#this was a good and valuable use of my afternoon

[aquamonstra]

"Mr. Data, what on earth are you wearing?"

"It is a copy of a costume piece from an old Earth cinematic masterpiece, Captain. I related strongly to one of the main characters, and found his mantra to be very affirming."

"I've already tried to get him to take it off, Captain, but he just handed me one too and said that I'm also Kenough."

"I have replicated copies of the garment for you and Commander Riker as well, Captain."

[jetii]

On Impulse

Pairing: Tech x fem!Reader

Words: 10,703

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! friends to lovers, kind of enemies to lovers? but in a goofy silly way, Tech's autism rizz, fluff, arguing as a form of flirting, smut, thigh riding, unprotected sex, fingering, semi-public sex, naked female clothed male

Summary: You've made it your personal mission to convince Tech that letting loose and taking risks for the sake of fun can be a good thing. During your day off on Coruscant, your efforts are unexpectedly rewarded.

A/N: There's no excuse for this I just love writing feral Tech. Also wow! 400 followers! Hello! Thanks for being here.

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Tech knows he can be a little... much.

It's not really his fault. The Kaminoans who designed him and his brothers didn't really think to account for things like social awareness, or tact, or "when not to talk." All they programmed him with was an insatiable thirst for information and a single-minded desire to be useful.

The others in the squad had been able to pick things up on the way, seeming to possess a natural sense for the sort of thing one says or does at any given time. Tech, though, just doesn't have that. He has a brain that's constantly running and processing data, and an all-consuming need to do something about it.

So he can't help it that his mouth tends to get away from him when he's excited. The information just comes pouring out.

His brothers call it a data dump.

The Kaminoans call it an unfortunate defect in his otherwise exceptional programming.

But you call it charming.

"And furthermore," Tech is ranting, following you as you walk through the halls of the Senate building, “the use of such a heavy gauge power coupling is inefficient and a waste of valuable resources which could be better spent in other areas. The new couplings are half the size, and can be manufactured on-planet instead of having to be shipped from across the galaxy."

"Not my fault if you were wrong, Tech," you toss over your shoulder at him, smirking as he splutters in offense.

"Wrong?!" he repeats, sounding aghast at the mere suggestion. "I don't think so."

You roll your eyes, but there's a fond smile on your lips. Tech is a genius, really, he is. But his ego is sometimes as big as his brain, and you love to wind him up a bit. 

He gets so flustered and huffy and cute when you do, and you can't resist. He's just too adorable not to tease a little. So you keep walking, even though you've long ago lost track of where you're actually going.

"I mean, I can admit when I'm wrong," you go on, slowing your pace just a bit. "It's a sign of a healthy psyche."

Tech scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest, and you bite back a laugh. He's wearing his full armor, minus his helmet, and it only adds to the ridiculousness of the moment. The two of you are quite the duo, sticking out like a pair of sore thumbs among the throngs of politicians and Senators going about their daily business.

You'd thought this outing would be something fun, an opportunity to get Tech out of the Marauder for a bit. You know that he gets antsy, and he loves nothing more than a good lecture or an impromptu lesson. 

Plus, it was your off day, and you wanted to spend some time with him, since you knew he was only planning to hole up in his bunk and work on fixing up some broken circuit board or another. Not the most thrilling way to spend an afternoon.

And you can't even count the number of times you've come back to the Marauder, only to find him elbow-deep in some project, surrounded by scrap parts and wires and tools and completely oblivious to the world.

That's fine, though, really. It's just who he is, and you know better than to interrupt, but you can't deny you like it better when his brain is occupied with you instead.

The way he lights up when he gets the chance to talk about whatever is on his mind is endearing, and you love listening to him speak. You'll take Tech the lecturer over Tech the hermit any day.

So, you'd come to the Senate to let him geek out. One of your friends was an assistant to a Senator, and you'd asked if you could give Tech a tour. It was more of a chance for Tech to give you a tour, actually, because you were clueless, and he knew exactly where to go and what to see. But he doesn't know that.

What had started out as your attempt at tricking Tech into a date has quickly turned into another argument, but that's nothing new between the two of you.

It's become your routine, something you've done since the first time you met. You and Tech bickering about this and that, teasing and mocking each other but with a light in your eyes and a smile on your faces. Sometimes it feels like it's the only way the two of you communicate.

You can't even remember now what the first fight had been about. But you know that he had said something blunt and off-hand, and you'd gotten offended and given him a piece of your mind. He'd argued back, and the two of you had gone back and forth until you had run out of steam.

It's what always happens.

But you had seen a glimmer of something in Tech's eyes that day, and when he'd started arguing back, there had been a spark there. It wasn't boredom, or apathy. It was excitement, passion, a fire in him that you had never seen in anyone else before.

He had liked it.

You had, too.

And that's when the real games had started.

It's not the same now. You've gotten used to each other, and you can tell when he's trying to rile you up. He does the same thing every time. He'll say something rude, or condescending, and you'll shoot him a dirty look and a sharp comment. Then, he'll say something even more rude and condescending, and then, finally, you'll lose your temper, and the two of you will bicker and banter until the both of you have worked through whatever is bothering you.

It's kind of like therapy.

Or foreplay.

Maybe a little of both.

And now, here the two of you are, doing it again. You're wandering the halls, not even paying attention to where you're going anymore. You're far too distracted by the way Tech's brow is furrowing in concentration as he thinks of how to prove himself right, and the way his nose is wrinkling in irritation at your constant teasing.

You're both enjoying this a little too much.

"I assure you, my psyche is perfectly healthy," Tech is saying as he follows behind you, and you grin at him over your shoulder.

"I don't know, Tech," you taunt. "I can't help but notice how much you love being right. That sounds like a classic case of an inflated ego to me."

He scoffs.

"My ego is perfectly sized, thank you," he tells you, his tone haughty. "It's not my fault that my intelligence is far superior to the vast majority of beings in the galaxy."

"Oh, and humble, too," you add, rolling your eyes. "My mistake."

He ignores your quip, still following you down the corridor, his steps slowing just a bit.

"Where are we going, anyway?" he asks, peering at you curiously. "This isn't the way back to the hangar."

You smirk, stopping in your tracks and turning to face him. Tech nearly runs into you, stopping short at the last moment, and the two of you stand only inches apart, your face turned up to his. He's almost a full foot taller than you, and the way he's staring down at you makes your heart beat a little faster. He's not smiling, not really, but you can see the amusement in his eyes.

"We're not going back to the hangar," you inform him, and his expression changes to one of confusion.

"Then where are we going?"

You don't answer. Instead, you grab him by the wrist, pulling him after you as you continue walking. "I have something else in mind."

He stumbles after you, tripping over his own feet in his hurry to keep up with your sudden change of pace.

"Where are we going?" he repeats, his tone slightly higher than usual. He sounds flustered, and you can't help the little laugh that slips past your lips.

"You'll see," is all you say.

He grumbles, but follows along nonetheless, allowing you to tug him after you.

"We don't have time for detours," he tries.

"We made a detour for power couplings, didn't we?" you counter. "What's the difference?"

"A power coupling is a necessary component of the Marauder's hyperdrive," he protests. "A 'detour' is merely a waste of time."

"But the ones we had were just fine," you argue, still pulling him along.

"Just fine is not good enough," he replies. "I will prove it to you. Once I have the new couplings installed, I will run a simulation, and you will see how much more efficiently the Marauder will perform. You will admit that I was correct."

You can't help but laugh at his self-assurance.

"If you say so," you tease.

"I do say so," he counters. "I am a man of science, and I always back up my claims with evidence. If I say something is fact, it is a fact."

You snicker again, and Tech glares down at you.

"You can be rather vexing," he says with a sigh of resignation.

"I try."

He rolls his eyes, but you catch the hint of a smile on his lips.

"I'm sure you do," he mutters, and you bite back a grin.

You love teasing Tech, but not just him. You like doing it to the others, too, especially when they least expect it. You have a reputation for being sweet and innocent and nice, but the truth is, you can be just as devious as the rest of them when you want to be.

You just choose your targets more carefully, and Tech is the perfect victim.

He's so serious, and so uptight, and so easy to get worked up. It's a challenge, keeping up with him and his constant rants and lectures, but you're nothing if not determined, and you have a lot of fun doing it.

But your favorite is the way Tech will get so frustrated and worked up, and then, once he's exhausted himself, and he knows that you're not going to change your mind, he'll start grumbling. And pouting.

And it's just the cutest thing in the world.

You don't mean to upset him, or anything, but the way he puffs up like an angry bird when you challenge him is just adorable, and you can't help yourself. You just can't stop.

And if the way he's looking at you is any indication, he can't stop, either.

"Oh, come on, Tech," you chuckle. "Lighten up a bit. Today is supposed to be fun. We're on Coruscant, there's nothing dangerous happening, and the weather is actually nice for a change. Just try and enjoy yourself a little."

"I am enjoying myself," he argues.

"By arguing with me?" you counter.

Tech looks down at you, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. He doesn't look as irritated anymore, and there's a twinkle in his eyes that tells you that he's having a good time. He's enjoying himself, despite his protests, and he knows that you're onto him.

"Yes. I enjoy our debates," he answers simply. He pauses, then adds, "Though I would hardly consider it a debate. It is a mere fact that the new couplings are better than the old ones."

You roll your eyes, and Tech's lips twitch at the gesture. There's a warmth that spreads through your chest when you see him like this, happy and relaxed. You like seeing him smile, and you like it even more when it's because of you.

"Sure, sure," you placate him. "Whatever you say, Tech."

"That is what I say," he confirms, and you can't help but laugh.

"Okay, well, whatever."

"I win, then?"

"Fine," you sigh, pretending to be put out. "You win."

He smiles, smug and self-satisfied. "Of course I do."

You snort, rolling your eyes again, and he just keeps grinning. He looks so proud of himself, and you can't help but feel a surge of affection for him. You like this side of Tech, the one that's playful and teasing and fun. It's a side that not many people get to see, and you can't help but feel lucky that you're the one he shows it to. 

You like this, the two of you together, alone, no one around to hear your conversations or watch the way you look at each other. There's something intimate about it, something that makes your stomach flutter and your heart beat a little faster. 

It's different, when it's just the two of you. The arguments and banter are still there, but there's something else, too, something warm and gentle and special. You want to drag this moment out as long as possible, and you intend to.

"So, where are we going, then?" he asks, and you bite your lip, trying to hide your smirk.

"Nowhere," you say, and he gives you a puzzled look. "Or, well, nowhere interesting."

"Then why did we take the detour?" he asks, and you can hear the curiosity in his voice. He's not annoyed or angry or irritated. He's genuinely interested in what you're doing, and why. It makes you smile.

"Because, Tech," you explain, "sometimes, it's the journey that's important, not the destination."

He cocks his head to the side, considering your words.

"But if the destination is not important, then why bother going at all?" he asks. "What is the point of the journey, if not the destination?"

You can't help but laugh again. He's so literal sometimes. You've tried explaining the concept of "just because" to him, but it's a hard concept for him to grasp. There is no rhyme or reason to some things, no logic or scientific explanation. Some things just are. They're fun, or beautiful, or special. And sometimes, that's reason enough to do them.

You tell him as much, and Tech rolls his eyes. He doesn't believe you. He can't understand why you'd do something for no reason at all. But you know that he's listening. He's still following along with you, and there's no indication that he wants to leave.

"So you just wanted to wander around the Senate?" he asks, and you nod. "Why?"

"I don't know," you admit. "I just wanted to. And I thought it might be nice to do something together. You and me."

He looks at you for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. There's a softness to his features, and his eyes are warm behind his goggles. It's a look that you've only ever seen him give you.

Sometimes when Tech looks at you, you feel like a bug under a microscope, like he's dissecting and cataloguing your every move. It's unnerving, and it makes your stomach twist with anxiety. But sometimes, like right now, he looks at you like he's seeing something new and wonderful, like you're a mystery he's trying to solve.

You don't mind it so much when he looks at you like that.

"It is...nice," he admits after a moment, his voice quiet. "Being together."

He says the words carefully, almost hesitantly, and you can see a slight flush creeping up his cheeks underneath his goggles.

You smile at him.

"It is, isn't it?"

You're still holding onto his wrist, and you slide your hand down to meet his, your fingers intertwining with his own. Tech doesn't pull away, and he doesn't seem surprised, or uncomfortable. He just lets it happen, and a soft, shy smile appears on his lips, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand.

"I—"

Whatever Tech was about to say is cut off by a shout from behind him. Both of you jump, and Tech whips around to face the source of the sound. He steps in front of you, instinctively shielding you with his body, his free hand going to the blaster on his hip. You can feel his muscles tensing, and his grip on your hand tightens.

You peer over his shoulder and see a Corrie Guard, one of Fox's men, coming down the hall toward the two of you. Your blood runs cold.

"Hey!" he shouts. "This is a restricted area."

Tech glances at you over his shoulder. "It is?"

"Oops," you mutter back. "Guess we better get out of here."

The two of you turn and bolt down the hall. You can hear the guard's boots pounding behind you, and Tech's fingers are still interlaced with yours. Laughter is bubbling up inside of you, a mix of adrenaline and nervous energy. Tech lets out an amused huff, and the two of you turn the corner.

You nearly slam into another group of troopers, and Tech pulls you out of the way, keeping a firm grip on your hand. You barrel past the guards, who shout in alarm as they see the first guard chasing the two of you. 

It's chaos, and the laughter spills out of you as Tech drags you through the maze of halls and corridors. The sound of your feet and the guards' boots echoes off the walls, and Tech is pulling you along behind him, not letting go. You can see the smile on his face, even as he turns and yells at you.

"Why are they chasing us?!"

"No idea!" you shout back, laughing.

"We should not be doing this!"

"Too late!"

The two of you sprint through the building, twisting and turning down hallways, the sound of the guards' footsteps following close behind.

"Tech! Over here!"

There's a door at the end of the hall, and it's unguarded. The two of you make a beeline for it, and you're both panting by the time you reach it. Tech slams his hand against the access panel, and the door slides open. He shoves you inside, and you have to duck under his arm before he follows close behind.

"Where are we?!" he asks, looking around.

You shrug, breathless, and he looks at you incredulously.

"We're in a closet," he says, and you can't help but giggle.

The room is dark, empty, and quiet. It’s also extremely cramped, and there's barely enough space for the two of you. The closet is clearly built for a maintenance droid, and the shelves are lined with cleaning supplies.

It's a tight fit, and you're pressed close together, chests heaving as you try to catch your breath. Tech is forced to bend down toward you to avoid hitting his head on the shelves above you, and his nose is practically touching yours.

"This is not an ideal hiding place," he complains. “It's not defensible. If they find us here, we'll be trapped."

"I know." You sigh, looking up at him. "I'm not an idiot."

"But you are the one who pulled me in here," he points out.

"Well, we had to get out of sight, didn't we?" you argue. "They were right behind us."

He shakes his head, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You are unbelievable."

"I'll take that as a compliment," you say, and you can hear his amused huff.

"You would," he murmurs, his tone dry.

"What are they gonna do?" you ask, looking up at him with a smirk. "Arrest us? For taking a shortcut?"

"I don't know why you're being so difficult about this," he grumbles. “We—mmph!”

Your free hand clasps over his mouth, silencing him. Tech's eyes widen behind his goggles, and he blinks at you in surprise. His other hand is still holding yours, and the two of you are standing so close together that you can feel the warmth of his body through his armor.

"Quiet," you hiss, and he gives you a look that is part exasperation, part amusement.

You keep your hand over his mouth, and the two of you stand there in the dark, the only sounds the hum of the ventilation system and the muffled footsteps of the guards outside. Your heart beats wildly in your chest as you stay as still as you can, and the feeling of Tech's lips beneath your palm is sending tingles down your spine.

You can feel his breath, warm and uneven, and you're suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of him that's touching you. Your fingers drag along the curve of his jaw, catching on the stubble there, and he shivers. It's barely noticeable, but you feel it, and you can't help the flush that creeps up your neck as you pull your hand away.

Tech's eyes are still wide, and his lips are parted, but he stays silent. He straightens, shifting a bit in the tight space, and you can feel his chest brush against yours. You can smell the leather of his armor, and the faint scent of grease and soap that lingers on his skin.

He's so close.

His leg is wedged between yours, and his body is radiating warmth. You're practically plastered to him, and every part of him that's touching you feels like it's burning. The hand that's holding yours is trembling, just a bit, and the closeness of the space, the heat, and the adrenaline from the chase are making your head spin. And you can't seem to stop staring at his mouth.

The voices in the hallway grow louder, and the two of you tense as you listen. They're right outside the door, and you suck in a sharp breath.

"Maybe they went the other way," someone is saying.

"They couldn't have gone far," another voice replies.

Tech's free hand comes up to rest on the shelf next to your head, bracing himself as he looms over you. His eyes are fixed on the door, and his brow is furrowed, a small frown on his face. You know he's probably running through a million different scenarios in his head, calculating the odds of each one, weighing the options and possible outcomes.

You know he's trying to figure out a way to get the two of you out of this, a plan, an escape route, something. Meanwhile, all you can seem to think about is how soft his lips look, and the way they had felt, warm and gentle against your hand.

"Let's just radio Fox and let him deal with it," a guard says. "I don't get paid enough to run around the Senate."

"We don't get paid at all," the other retorts.

"Exactly."

Tech adjusts his stance again, trying to get a better angle on the door. The motion presses his thigh harder between your legs, directly against your center. The touch sends a shock of arousal through you, and you have to bite your lip to keep from gasping aloud, praying he doesn't notice.

Of course, he does.

Tech snaps his head to look down at you, his eyes locking with yours, and you can see the surprise written all over his face. His lips part slightly, and his gaze flickers down to where your bodies are connected, then back up to your face.

You can see the moment realization dawns on him, and the way his pupils dilate behind his goggles is unmistakable.

"We'll search this side," someone is saying.

"They've gotta be around here somewhere."

You can barely hear them over the sound of your pulse pounding in your ears. You swallow thickly, and Tech's eyes dart to your throat, his lips parting a bit more. He looks a bit dazed, like he can't believe what just happened. Or maybe he can't believe the effect it's had on him.

You're having a hard time believing it yourself.

Tech is never one to be lost for words, or speechless, but now, he doesn't say a thing. His eyes are fixed on yours, and he's so close to you that you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes. He looks like he's about to say something, but then thinks better of it, his lips pressing together.

"Do you think they went upstairs?"

"Nah, it's too risky. They're probably still on this level."

Tech lets out a shaky sigh, his hand flexing against the shelf. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and his eyes flutter closed before he takes a deep breath, and then his leg is moving up against you again, and this time, it's deliberate.

A small, choked gasp slips past your lips, your hand squeezing his, and Tech's eyes fly open. 

You know you should say something, or do something, but you can't seem to form words, or even a coherent thought, really. All you can focus on is the way his leg is rubbing against you, sending sparks of pleasure through your entire body with every minuscule twitch.

Tech's breath hitches, and his grip on the shelf tightens. He's watching your reaction closely, his eyes roaming over your face. He's testing you, you realize, seeing what you'll do, how you'll react.

You don't move, and the pressure against your core increases, just a little, but it's enough. A whimper escapes you, and Tech's nostrils flare. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and you're pretty sure you're the color of a sun-ripe pomfruit.

"Tech," you whisper, your voice coming out husky and breathless.

He doesn't say a word, his eyes boring into yours, his leg still moving, ever so slightly, against you. The guards are arguing now, but neither of you are paying attention. There's nothing but the two of you and this tiny, dark closet, and the friction that's building between you.

"Tech," you breathe again, a little louder this time.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips again, and his eyes flutter shut as he lets out a shaky breath. He's enjoying this, you realize. He's getting off on it. And the thought makes a fresh wave of arousal rush through you.

Tech is not usually an impulsive person. He's meticulous and precise and methodical. Everything he does is calculated, planned. He's not spontaneous, and he doesn't do things without thinking them through first. But right now, he's acting on instinct, and he doesn't seem to care about the consequences.

And the thought is making you feel things that are definitely not appropriate for this particular situation.

Another insistent brush against your core, and you're done for.

"Fuck," you whimper, your hips rolling forward into the contact. Your free hand shoots out and grabs his shoulder, giving you leverage as you press yourself harder against his thigh.

Tech makes a strangled sound, somewhere between a moan and a whimper, and his fingers curl harder around the edge of the shelf above you. The metal groans and bends under his grip.

The two of you are lost in a haze of pleasure and desire, your bodies moving together, desperately seeking more friction, more pressure, more contact. Tech is panting now, his breath coming in harsh, uneven gasps, and the sound is like music to your ears. He's always so in control, so put-together, but now, he's completely undone.

You can't stop staring at him, drinking in the sight of him, and his eyes are locked on yours, too. You're close, so close, and Tech must be able to tell because he's grinding his leg against you faster. The hand that was holding yours has moved to your hip, and he's pulling you closer, tighter, helping you grind against him.

His goggles are fogging up, and he's got that look on his face, the one he always gets when he's working on something. But this time, it's not the Marauder's circuitry or a busted datapad, it's you, and the realization makes your blood burn hot.

The voices outside the door are still going, but they're faint and distant, moving farther away, the words nothing but a meaningless buzz in the back of your mind. All that matters right now is the way Tech's thigh is rubbing against you, and the heat pooling in your core.

"Tech—"

Your words are cut off by a whimper, his name coming out like a plea, and you can't help the way your hips are jerking, seeking more contact. Your fingers are digging into his shoulder, and he's practically shaking, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps.

"I can't—" he gasps. "I can't think like this."

"Don't," you choke out, your voice trembling. "Don't think. Just...just..."

You're not even sure what you're asking him for, but you don't need to say anything else. He knows.

The pressure against your center increases, his leg rubbing harder, faster, and you can't hold back anymore. Your climax washes over you like a tidal wave, and your knees nearly give out, only Tech's firm grip on your hip holding you upright.

You barely make a sound before he's crushing his lips against yours, swallowing your moans and whimpers, his own muffled grunts echoing in your ears.

You cling to him, riding out the aftershocks of your release, and his mouth is hot and insistent against yours, his tongue stroking against yours. He's warm and soft and sweet, and he tastes like caf and something else that is distinctly Tech. His kisses are hungry, and his hands are roaming, and you're not sure if you're dreaming or if this is actually happening.

Tech kissing you. Tech, who has barely even touched you before today, who has avoided any and all physical contact with you since the moment you met, who has never, ever, shown any kind of interest in you, is kissing you, his hands and mouth and tongue setting your nerves on fire.

And all because of an impulsive idea, an accident.

You should stop. You know you should stop, but you can't bring yourself to.

"Tech—" you breathe, and his mouth moves to your jaw, kissing and licking and biting at the sensitive skin there. You're practically melting under his touch, your fingers carding through his hair, tugging gently. "Tech, the guards—"

"I know.”

He sounds just as wrecked as you do, his voice raw and husky, and you can't believe this is happening.

"We—"

Your words are cut off by his mouth again, and you're panting and writhing against him. His hands are on your ass, and he lifts you, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. The shelves shake and rattle as he presses you against the wall, and the new position allows him to grind his codpiece against your heat, the feeling making you both groan into each other's mouths.

You've never wanted anything more than you want him right now, and the desperation in his kisses is telling you that he feels the same way.

"Tech," you whimper.

"I know," he breathes, his lips moving against yours.

The guards' voices are fading, growing quieter and more distant, but neither of you notice. You're both too lost in each other, in the feeling of finally, finally, giving in to the tension that's been building between you for weeks, months even.

"Tech—"

"I know," he says again, kissing you harder, deeper.

The guards' voices are gone, now, and the only sounds are the hum of the ventilation system, the creak of the shelves, and the wet, desperate noises of the two of you devouring each other.

"We have to—we can't—" you manage, and he pulls back, his mouth moving to your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses across your skin.

"I know," Tech breathes, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. "We can't. This is—"

His hips buck, and he presses himself harder against you, making you both moan.

"This is dangerous," he finishes, his mouth moving lower, to the sensitive spot just below your ear.

"It's wrong," you gasp, but your fingers are tangling in his hair, and you're tilting your head to give him better access. "We can't let anyone find out about this."

"No," he says, his teeth nipping at your throat. "No one can know. If the others found out, they'd never let us hear the end of it."

You shudder, and his hands are everywhere, roaming, grabbing, groping, and his lips are tracing patterns across your skin. You're not sure if he's trying to prove a point or not, but you can't stop the little gasps and moans that are falling from your mouth.

"What—what are we gonna tell them?" you ask, your voice breathless and shaky.

"I don't know," he groans, his hands sliding down to the backs of your thighs, squeezing hard. "I can't think."

You laugh, the sound coming out as a desperate, breathless thing. "Me either."

His mouth is on yours again, and he kisses you fiercely, hungrily, like he can't get enough. Your hands are in his hair, tugging and pulling and holding him to you, and his hips are bucking against yours, grinding his codpiece against you. It's not enough, and you need more, but you can't take it. You're too wound up, and the friction is delicious torture.

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you. His eyes are wild, his pupils blown wide, and he looks like he's going to come apart at the seams.

"Tech," you gasp. "Tech, please."

"Yes?" he asks, his voice rough and strained.

"I want you," you admit. "I want this. I want you, right now."

He groans, his fingers digging into your hips, and his forehead drops to yours.

"I want this, too," he breathes, his voice barely a whisper.

You're clinging to him, and his mouth is on yours, and it's all a blur, a mess of tongues and teeth and moans. You're clawing at his armor, and he's tugging at your clothes, and there's barely any space left between the two of you. It's a frenzy, a frenetic energy, and you're both chasing the same thing, the same end goal.

Tech's fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants, and he tugs, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. His hand is fumbling, clumsy, and you know he's not used to this. He's not used to the intimacy, or the desperation, or the lack of control. He's not used to being this wound up, and it's showing.

It's cute.

He's cute.

He's so fucking cute, and you have no idea what you're going to do with him.

You don't know where it comes from, or who started it, but suddenly, you're both laughing, a mixture of nerves and excitement and relief. You're smiling, and he's smiling, and you're just so happy, and so overwhelmed, and you're not sure if you've ever been this happy before.

Tech gives up on the clasp, and instead, he tugs off his glove with his teeth and shoves his hand down the front of your pants, his bare skin hot against your flesh. His fingers slide between your folds, and the moment they meet the wetness there, you're both moaning.

You can feel his fingers stroking you, rubbing at your clit, and your hips jerk, bucking against him.

"You feel incredible," he murmurs, and the sound of his voice, all breathless and awestruck, sends a shiver down your spine.

"You—ah, fuck," you gasp, unable to continue as his fingers swirl over your sensitive bundle of nerves.

He smirks, and he looks so goddamn smug, so satisfied, and you're pretty sure you've never been more turned on in your life.

"Tech," you whine, and he chuckles, a low, deep sound that sends a tremor through your body.

"Is this good?" he asks, his voice teasing, and you can't help but giggle.

"You know it is," you manage, and he grins.

"I do," he says. "I just wanted to hear you say it."

He's still smirking, and you roll your eyes, even as he slips a finger inside of you. You're panting, and your hands are scrabbling at his chest plate, trying to find purchase. He's got you pinned, and you're practically hanging from him, your thighs locked around his waist.

"Tech," you gasp, and his hand is working, pumping in and out of you.

"I can't believe how wet you are," he mutters. "I've barely even touched you."

"I'm not usually like this," you argue. "It's—mm, fuck—it's just you."

He moans, his forehead dropping against yours. "You have no idea what that does to me."

"Show me," you reply, and his grip on your hip tightens, his fingers flexing against your skin.

"I will," he promises. "I will."

You can feel his breath on your face, hot and uneven, and his mouth is so close, his lips brushing against yours.

"Just—fuck, Tech, just fuck me," you plead. "Please."

He lets out a ragged groan as he pulls his hand away, and you nearly sob at the loss. You can feel him fumbling with his belt, his other hand holding you up, and he's cursing, his fingers shaking.

"Why—why are these damn things so—ugh!"

He finally manages to undo his belt, and it hits the floor with a thud, the ridiculous amount of pouches and gadgets clattering to the ground. The sound makes you laugh, and he shoots you a glare.

"Stop that," he chides. "This is a serious matter."

"I'm sorry," you gasp, barely able to contain your mirth. "It's just—the sound!"

He rolls his eyes, but his lips are twitching, and his fingers are back on his codpiece, fumbling with the clasps.

"I will never understand why you need so much equipment," you tease, and he scoffs.

"The amount of equipment I carry has nothing to do with my ability to—"

"Just take it off, Tech," you groan. "I'm dying here."

He glares at you, but the effect is ruined by the flush that's creeping up his neck. You can't help but smile at the sight.

"I'm trying," he huffs, "but I can't do anything when you're distracting me."

"Sorry," you apologize, biting your lip.

Tech gives you a look, but his attention is already back on his codpiece, and his fingers are flying over the clasps. He's got a look of intense concentration on his face, and he's practically vibrating with impatience. You undo the buttons on your shirt, tugging it down and exposing your chest, and Tech's gaze flickers over to you, his lips parting as his eyes travel down your body.

"That is not helping," he mutters, and you laugh, leaning back and bracing yourself against the shelves.

"Maybe if you had less equipment, it would be easier to get out of it," you tease, and he lets out an irritated huff.

"If I had less equipment, I wouldn't be able to do half the things I do."

"True," you concede, a grin on your face. "And then I wouldn't be nearly as interested in you."

He looks up at you, his eyes wide, and the corner of his mouth turns up in a half-smile.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" he asks, his voice soft and teasing.

"Maybe," you say, biting your lip.

He doesn't say anything, just stares at you, and his expression is so earnest and sincere that it makes your heart flutter. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, letting out a huff of laughter.

"You are," he says, his voice quiet. "You're telling me that you're interested in me."

"Well, duh," you laugh. "Why else would I have dragged you along today?"

He doesn't say anything, but you can see the flush on his cheeks darken.

"You're such a dork," you tease.

"And you are the most infuriating, confusing, aggravating, and fascinating person I've ever met," he replies as his eyes open again, his gaze locking with yours.

"That's one hell of a compliment."

"It's a fact."

You're not sure what to make of the sincerity in his tone. You're not sure what to make of any of this. It's not exactly what you'd planned, but you can't help the thrill that's running through you.

"I have no idea what I'm going to do with you," Tech says, and the fondness in his voice makes your heart swell. 

He finally gets his codpiece undone, and it falls to the floor with a clang. You can't help but glance down at his groin, and you see his erection straining against his blacks.

"I have a few ideas," you murmur, and he lets out a strangled laugh.

"So do I."

Tech sets you down on the floor, and your legs are shaky, but he keeps you steady, his hands on your hips. His hands hook into the waistband of your pants, and you can feel his knuckles brushing against your skin as he tugs them down. It’s an agonizingly slow process, and the anticipation is making your blood pound in your veins.

"Force," he hisses as your underwear sticks to your skin, the fabric clinging to your slick folds.

"You did this to me," you say, your voice trembling. "It's your fault."

"I'm willing to take the blame," he replies, his eyes locked on your cunt.

He pulls your pants down, and you step out of them, your shirt still hanging open. You're bare before him, and he's still fully dressed, the plastoid armor covering almost every inch of his skin. You're about to ask him to take something else off when his hands are on you again, gripping your ass and lifting you up.

You let out a startled yelp as he pins you against the wall, his hands spreading your thighs and holding them apart. You can feel the hard line of his cock pressing against you, separated only by the thin fabric of his blacks, and you can't stop the moan that spills from your lips.

"I want you so much," he breathes, his hips thrusting, the friction making you cry out. "I want this, so much, and it's—"

"Tech," you gasp. "Don't stop."

"I want to take my time," he says. "I want to do this properly. I want to do this right, but I can't, not right now."

"Tech," you plead. "It's okay."

He lets out a frustrated groan, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass.

"This isn't—we shouldn't—"

"Tech," you gasp. "It's okay."

You grab his face, forcing him to look at you, and his eyes are wild, frantic.

"We can take our time later," you whisper. "We can take all the time in the world, but right now, I need you, okay? I need you, and we don't have time."

He shudders, and his cock twitches against your heat, making you moan.

"We can take this slow, later," you promise, and his eyes search yours, looking for any hint of uncertainty. He must not find any, because he nods, and the tension drains from his body.

"Okay," he says, his voice shaky. "Okay."

His hips rock, and you whimper as his clothed erection slides between your folds, the friction making you tremble. You're practically drenched, and you can feel the slickness dripping down your thighs, soaking the front of his blacks. He's not doing any better, his cock throbbing and straining against the fabric.

"Fuck," he hisses.

"Yes, that," you groan.

“You’re impossible," he growls, his hand moving to pull down his blacks. His cock springs free, and the sight of it, thick and heavy and dripping, makes your mouth water.

"And you're taking too long," you shoot back, your fingers curling around his length.

He's hard and silky soft, and his skin is feverishly hot, and the feeling of him, so hard and desperate, makes you moan. You drag your fingers along his shaft, tracing the vein, and his hips buck. He's panting, his eyes fixed on your hand as you pump his cock, and you can feel his muscles twitching and trembling.

"I'm not going to last," he gasps.

"Good," you reply, guiding his cock toward your entrance. "I don't want you to."

You can feel the head of his cock brushing against your slit, and you both moan. He's leaking, and his pre-cum is mixing with your arousal, slicking him up and easing the way. You can feel him sliding through your folds, teasing you, and it's driving you wild.

He pushes forward, his hips jerking, and you both moan as the head of his cock slips inside. You’re about to tell him to keep going when he slams into you, his entire length sheathing itself in your cunt in one swift thrust. 

The cry that falls from your lips is muffled by Tech’s mouth as he captures yours, swallowing the sound. He's so big, and the sudden intrusion is almost painful, but the pleasure is overwhelming, and you cling to him, fingers scrambling for purchase on his shoulders.

His hands are bruising your thighs, and his hips are stuttering, the rhythm uneven and sloppy. There’s not much room to move, but he manages, thrusting shallowly, grinding his hips against yours.

"I'm sorry," he pants, his words slurring. "I'm not—fuck, I can't—"

"It's fine," you gasp. "It's fine, just—ah, Tech!"

Your back arches as he hits that spot inside of you, and he groans, his forehead dropping against yours. His goggles are pressing against your face, and you can feel the cold metal against your heated skin.

"You feel amazing," he pants, his hips rolling.

"You—you're not bad yourself," you gasp, and he laughs, a low, husky sound.

"Not bad? That's the best you can do?"

"You're ruining the moment," you groan, and he scoffs.

"Apologies," he says, his tone mocking. "What can I do to make it up to you?"

You roll your hips, and Tech grunts, his grip on your thighs tightening.

"You can start by fucking me properly," you breathe.

"As you wish."

His thrusts pick up speed, his hands moving to grip your ass, lifting you up and down, helping you bounce on his cock. The shelf behind you rattles, the items stacked on it shifting and wobbling, and Tech lets out a breathless huff of laughter.

"You're—Force, you're a hazard," he gasps, and you laugh, the sound morphing into a moan as he grinds against you.

"I've always wanted to say this," you pant, your nails scraping across his scalp, "shut the hell up and fuck me, Tech."

He growls, his pace picking up, and the angle of his thrusts changes, and suddenly, he's hitting that spot inside you again. Your orgasm is building, and you're teetering on the edge, your body thrumming with pleasure.

Tech is panting, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps, and his forehead is resting against yours, his lips brushing against your skin.

"Touch yourself,” he orders, his voice rough and hoarse. "I want to feel you come."

You comply, your hand slipping between your bodies, your fingers finding your clit. Your eyes flutter shut as the first jolt of pleasure hits you, and Tech lets out a choked groan.

"Look at me," he pleads, and you open your eyes, gazing up at him.

He looks utterly wrecked, his cheeks flushed, his mouth hanging open, his brow furrowed in concentration. He's gorgeous, and you can't believe this is actually happening.

Tech is fucking you, in a closet, while a bunch of Corries are patrolling the halls outside. It's the craziest, most insane, and most arousing thing that has ever happened to you. There's no doubt in your mind that you're going to be sore for a week, but it's totally worth it.

"You're so beautiful," he pants, his words slurring together. "You're so perfect, so tight, and Force, the sounds you're making—"

He cuts himself off with a groan as he drives into you, and you cry out, the pleasure building. He's babbling now, and it's not even coherent, just a stream of nonsense and curse words and half-formed sentences. He's saying something about how good you feel, and how much he's wanted this, and how he never thought he'd have this chance, and it's all a jumbled mess, but it's the sweetest thing you've ever heard.

His rhythm is erratic, his hips jerking, and his face is twisted with desperation and need. He's getting close, you can tell, and you're right there with him, teetering on the edge.

"Tech," you hiss, your hand speeding up, your fingers rubbing furiously at your clit. "Oh, fuck, Tech—"

He slams into you, the tip of his cock hitting that spot deep inside, and you shatter. You come hard, clenching around his cock, and you barely have time to clap a hand over your mouth before your orgasm crashes over you. You're biting down on your palm, your teeth leaving deep indents, and the sound that escapes your lips is muffled and raw.

"Oh," Tech gasps, his eyes fluttering closed. "You're going to make me—"

He doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence. The tension inside of him snaps, and he thrusts into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt and grinding against you, forcing you to take every last inch of him. His cock twitches, and his whole body goes rigid as his orgasm hits him.

He doesn't make a sound as he comes, his lips parting and his mouth opening in a silent cry. His hips jerk, his movements stuttering and uneven, and you feel the bloom of warmth as he fills you, his release spilling out of you, dripping down his cock.

Finally, he slumps forward, his head dropping to rest on your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close, and he lets out a low, satisfied hum.

You can't stop the stupid grin that spreads across your face.

Tech is nuzzling at your neck, and you can feel him smiling, too, his lips pressed against your skin.

You're not sure how long the two of you stay like that, wrapped in each other's arms, breathing hard and basking in the afterglow. It feels like hours, but it's probably only a few minutes.

Tech pulls back, and you look up at him. He's gazing down at you, his expression soft and content. His goggles are crooked, and his hair is mussed, and his lips are swollen and red. You reach up, smoothing his hair down and straightening his goggles.

"Well," he starts, his tone dry despite his ragged breathing, "this has been a most enlightening day."

You burst out laughing, and he smirks, his nose bumping against yours.

"Nothing like a bit of field research to broaden the horizons," you tease.

"Indeed," he chuckles, his hand cupping your cheek.

You smile at him, and he smiles back, and the moment is so tender, so sweet, and you can't help but kiss him again. It's slow and lazy, and he sighs against your lips, his mouth warm and inviting. You could kiss him forever, and never get tired of it.

Finally, he pulls away, and you reluctantly let him go.

"I must admit," he says, his tone light, "that was far more satisfying than I'd imagined."

"Oh, you imagined it, did you?" you ask, and he smirks, a faint flush creeping across his cheeks.

"Perhaps once or twice," he confesses.

"Just once or twice?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Perhaps more," he amends, and the admission sends a thrill through you. “Though I had not anticipated anything quite so vigorous."

"I didn't know you had it in you," you tease. "I never would have guessed that you were such a deviant."

"Evidently you bring out a certain side of me," he replies. "One that I had not been aware of until today."

"Well, I'm happy to explore more sides of you, if you'd like," you murmur, and Tech hums.

"I would enjoy that.”

His lips brush against yours, and the kiss is soft and sweet, and your heart swells.

"But," he says, breaking the kiss and looking down at the floor.

You follow his gaze, and you both wince. Your pants are lying in a pile on the floor, along with your shirt, and Tech's codpiece and gloves. There are a few pieces of cleaning supplies strewn about, and your boots are on opposite ends of the closet. Tech's belt is laying on the ground, his pouches spilling out and his blasters resting haphazardly on the floor.

"We need to clean this up," he mutters.

"Yeah," you agree.

Neither of you move. You stay where you are, clinging to each other, and savoring the moment. It's not going to last forever, and you both know it. 

Once the two of you step out of this closet, things will change. Everything will change. But you can't find it in yourself to regret anything. Not the teasing, or the flirting, or the banter, or the argument, or the frantic, desperate sex. None of it.

And from the way Tech is looking at you, with a mixture of tenderness and awe and fondness, you know that he doesn't, either.

Eventually, though, Tech is the one to pull away. You both groan as he slides out of you, and the sound echoes through the tiny room. He sets you down gently, and your legs shake as you try to find your footing.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his eyes roaming over you, concern written all over his face.

"Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little…" you trail off as you glance down at yourself, taking in the sight of your bare thighs and the streaks of white that are slowly dribbling down them. "Uh, sticky."

"Yes," he agrees, his eyes glued to the mess between your legs. You watch his tongue flick out to lick his lips, and the hunger in his gaze is enough to make you blush.

"What?" you ask, and he blinks, seeming to snap out of his trance.

He flushes and looks away. "Nothing," he mutters, pulling his blacks up over his cock.

"Tech, come on," you say, a grin tugging at the corner of your mouth.

"I must admit the sight of you like this is rather... enticing," he says, his tone nonchalant. He's not looking at you, and he's pretending to straighten his armor, but you can see the pink flush on the back of his neck and the tips of his ears.

"Yeah?" you question, and his eyes flick up to meet yours.

"Yes," he murmurs, and the look he gives you makes your knees weak.

"Good to know,” you breathe. He raises an eyebrow at you, and you can't stop the grin that spreads across your face.

Tech shakes his head and picks up his belt, fastening it around his waist. He begins stuffing his pockets, and you watch him, amused. He's always so proper, so put together, and to see him like this, all riled up and horny, is an incredible sight.

"Are you just going to stand there?" he asks, eyeing you, and you grin.

"Maybe," you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

"I will leave you here."

"Sure, you will."

"I will," he insists, but the look in his eyes gives him away.

"Okay, okay," you chuckle. You grab a cloth and wipe off the worst of the mess, and Tech hands you your pants and underwear. You pull them on, wincing at the damp fabric, and Tech holds out your shirt.

"Thank you," you say, and he nods.

"Of course."

You take the shirt from him, and your fingers brush against his. His touch sends a shiver through you, and you can't resist the urge to lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek.

Tech stiffens, surprised by the gesture, but you see the corners of his lips quirk up in a smile.

"Now what was that for?" he asks, and you shrug.

"Do I need a reason?"

"I suppose not," he admits, a faint blush staining his cheeks.

You can't stop the smile that spreads across your face, and neither can he. You finish getting dressed, and the two of you straighten up as best you can. Tech smooths down his hair and adjusts his armor, and you wipe the smudges off his goggles with the cloth in his belt. He helps you button your shirt and tuck your hair back into place, and he looks like he's enjoying himself. 

You have a sneaking suspicion that he likes undressing you, and putting you back together again.

When he finishes, he presses a kiss to your forehead, and his lips linger on your skin.

"Thank you.”

"For what?" you ask, confused.

"For helping me see the value of a little spontaneity.” Tech gives you a small smile, and his eyes are warm. "I may have been...wrong, about today. It's been an illuminating experience, and I'm grateful for it."

The rush of affection you feel for him catches you off guard. He's such a dork, and he's so sincere, and the way he's looking at you makes your heart flutter.

You reach up and cup his face in your hands, pulling him down for a quick kiss. He lets out a startled sound, but he kisses you back, his lips gentle and warm.

"Who would've thought," you murmur as you pull away. "You have a healthy psyche after all."

Tech scoffs. "I told you—"

A shout echoes down the corridor, and the two of you freeze.

"They've gotta be around here somewhere," a voice calls.

"Shit," you whisper.

"Time to go," Tech replies, and the two of you burst into motion. You both dart to the door, and Tech cracks it open, peeking out.

"Ready?" he asks, and you nod, your cheeks still pink.

He pushes the door open, and you dash out. Tech's fingers curl around yours, and you follow him as he leads the way. Your feet slap against the floor, and your breath is coming in short, harsh gasps. Tech's hand is hot in yours, his grip firm, and his thumb rubs comforting circles into your palm.

You don't even bother trying to remember where you're going. You just follow him, trusting him to lead you to safety. You can hear the voices of the troopers echoing behind you, and their footsteps are growing louder.

"There!" a voice shouts, and Tech curses under his breath.

He tugs on your hand, pulling you around a corner. The two of you are sprinting now, and you're panting, and your heart is pounding. A bubble of laughter escapes your lips, and Tech shoots you a look, but the corners of his mouth are turned up in a smile.

"This is insane," he mutters, and you grin.

"It's fun," you correct.

"This is the last time I ever listen to one of your ideas.”

"We both know that's not true."

"Unbelievable," he sighs, shaking his head.

"I'm just saying," you argue, "we both enjoyed ourselves, didn't we?"

"Yes," he admits reluctantly. He suddenly pulls you to the left, ducking down a side corridor. "But next time, I choose the location."

"Next time, huh?"

"Yes, next time," he huffs.

Tech pulls you through another doorway, and the two of you race down a flight of stairs, then another, until you reach the ground floor. You can see the entrance up ahead, and you muster the last of your strength, putting everything you have into one final burst of speed.

The doors slide open, and the evening light streams in, bathing you both in its warm glow. Tech's fingers are still laced with yours, and he doesn't let go, not even as the two of you burst out of the building and onto the streets.

Tech tugs you to the right, and you follow, his hand warm and firm in yours. You can still hear the shouts of the Corries behind you, but they're getting fainter. You're both out of breath, and your hearts are racing, but the excitement is intoxicating.

Tech finally slows to a walk, and he glances over his shoulder, checking for any pursuers. He doesn't let go of your hand.

"That was certainly a memorable excursion," he remarks.

"Told you it would be fun," you grin.

"Yes, yes, you were right, and I was wrong," he concedes with a long-suffering sigh.

"Never gets old, hearing you say that."

"I can tell," he grumbles, but there's a smile playing on his lips.

The two of you continue on, your steps slow and leisurely, and the streets are quiet around you. It's later than you thought it would be, and there's no doubt the others are wondering where the two of you are. But you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when Tech is looking at you like that.

"So," you start, and Tech raises an eyebrow. "What do we do now?"

"Well," he replies, his voice taking on a thoughtful tone. "I suppose we should head back to the ship."

"Right. Of course." You try your best to keep the disappointment from your voice, but the way you deflate must give it away. Tech glances at you, his expression inscrutable, but there's a hint of a smirk on his lips.

"And then," he continues, his hand tightening around yours, "I'm going to need some help with the power couplings."

You blink and look up at him. His eyes are twinkling, and the corners of his mouth are turned up in a small smile.

"Oh, do you?" you ask, a smile tugging at the corner of your own mouth.

"Yes," he replies. He lets go of your hand and places his palm against your back, his thumb stroking your spine. "I'm afraid I need someone to help test them. Someone with a very discerning eye."

"I see," you murmur, biting your lip to keep from smiling. "I guess I could help."

He slows to a stop, and turns to face you. The evening sun is setting, and the light is catching in his dark brown eyes, making them glow golden. His hand is still on your back, and he pulls you closer, until the two of you are nearly touching.

His free hand tilts your chin up. "I'd appreciate it."

"And maybe after," you continue, a mischievous glint in your eye, "we could test the other parts of the ship."

"That's an excellent idea," Tech replies, and his fingers tighten in the fabric of your shirt. "We will need to make sure we are thorough. It wouldn't do to leave any part of the ship untested."

"No," you agree, a grin spreading across your face. "It would be irresponsible."

"Precisely."

Tech meets you halfway, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. Your hands find his neck, and he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you. You can't stop the sigh that escapes you, and he swallows it, his mouth slanting over yours.

He breaks the kiss, and he's smiling, his cheeks flushed. Your hand comes up to cup his cheek, and his eyes flutter shut, his head tilting into your touch.

"So," you start, your thumb stroking his skin, "shall we head back to the ship?"

"After you, darling," he replies, his voice low. He presses one more kiss to your lips, and then he's stepping back, offering his arm.

You reach out to take it, and then you pause, considering. Your fingers drift over his bicep, and you look up at him, your eyes sparkling.

"Race you," you say, and then you take off, your footsteps echoing down the street.

Tech stares after you for a moment, before he shakes his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Infuriating," he mutters, and he sets off after you. 

The two of you run, chasing each other through the streets of Coruscant, and the air is filled with your laughter. It's a beautiful night, and the city is alight with the glow of the sunset. There's a breeze blowing, and it rustles your hair, and the scent of flowers is in the air.

And there's a warm feeling in your chest, something bright and light and free, and you can't stop laughing.

It's impulsive, and foolish, and everything Tech would normally hate. But it's perfect, and as he chases after you, the smile on his face only widens.

Maybe there's something to be said for spontaneity, after all.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

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[augustinewrites]

based on this

your frowning face appears in the mirror as wriothesley fixes his hair for the third time that afternoon, admiring how the gel he’d borrowed from clorinde was surprisingly adept at slicking back his unruly hair. 

“we can’t be late,” you remind him, fiddling with the collar of your dress. “father despises tardiness…”

“awe, are you worried i’ll make a bad first impression?” he asks, finally turning to face you. “don’t worry, sweetheart. parents love me. well, maybe not my foster parents. but i’m always a hit with other people’s.”

the comment about his…colourful past  goes right over your head. you really are worried. “it’s not you i’m worried about. father can be…intense.”

“i work in a prison. it can’t get more intense than that,” he reminds you, grabbing the gift bag sitting by the door. “besides, once we pull out this bad boy, he’ll be so impressed that he’ll ask me to join you for lunch next week too.” 

of course, he had no actual idea if the wine navia had chosen was any good. though his wallet had come back significantly lighter, so that had to mean it was halfway decent. 

“wriothesley,” you say, still looking deeply concerned. “you do know that father is–”

“intense, babe. i know,” he sighs, cupping your face in his hands and placing a kiss between your furrowed brows. you try to wriggle out of his hold, but he doesn’t let you, gently keeping your focus on him. “don’t worry, alright? i’ll shake his hand, we’ll talk about safe topics like the weather and how great the aquabus is. i’ll even use my best table manners when the food comes.” 

his thumbs gently brush your cheeks as you sigh, shaking your head slightly. “i just really want you two to get along.” 

“i can be plenty charming when i need to be,” he says, only letting you go to pull the front door open. “besides, who wouldn’t want a duke as a son-in-law?”

______

business at café lutece is unusually empty today, wriothesley observes. all of the tables are reserved, but remain empty at the height of the lunch rush. 

you don’t seem to notice this, fingertips drumming the surface of the table 

“quit fidgeting,” wriothesley murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“i’m just nervous,” you mutter, knee beginning to bounce. wriothesley chuckles, stilling it with a firm hand. 

you look up at him, smiling as you place your hand over his. “thanks.”

the waiter comes back with the tea he’d ordered earlier, leaving a teapot and two small jars of sugar and milk. he’s in the middle of pouring you a cup when you suddenly sit up.

“father!”

“oh shit,” the duke mutters, quickly getting on his feet. he glances down at his outfit briefly, making sure his buttons are done up properly and his sleeves are rolled neatly before holding out his hand. “it’s nice to finally meet you–”

wriothesley’s open stance shifts into a protective one, immediately putting himself between you and the knave. 

“well, isn’t this sweet,” the harbinger says, clearly more amused than threatened. 

wriothesley looks back at you, incredulous. “your father is a fatui harbinger?!”

“all children of the house of the hearth refer to me as such,” she answers, gracefully pulling out and taking a seat across from him. “sit, your grace, and prove to me why you should continue to be allowed to court my child.”

_____

sitting face to face with the knave was equal parts exhilarating and nerve-inducing. exhilarating because she was the knave. skilled in combat and espionage and one of the highest ranking harbingers.

nerve-inducing because she was your father. and as much as he wanted to engage her in a battle of wits and fisticuffs, that was not something one did with their father-in-law. 

“i trust business at the fortress is going smoothly, your grace?”

wriothesley casts the harbinger a wary look over his teacup. “you can read about childe’s status in the report i had sent over last week.”

“well, you know better than most that information from inside sources is much more valuable.”

both their gazes drift to you, and you send him an apologetic look.

“oh, relax,” the woman across from him laughs. “i was simply making conversation. since i’m short of time, however, i will make the point of our visit quite brief.”

she leans forward, clasping your hand in hers across the tabletop as she fixes wriothesley with a paragliding glare.

“if you ever hurt my child, or she comes to any harm whilst in your care, there is not a corner of the ocean dark enough for you to hide.”

“father!” you gasp. “you said you wouldn't threaten him.”

it’s almost eerie, how easily the dark expression slips off her visage. “that wasn’t a threat. c'était une promesse.” 

[silassinclair]

Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Reader

CW// Possession, Obsession, Yandere Behavior, Jealousy, Suggestive Content, Gaslighting, Maddox has a housewife fetish (16+)

Masterlist

When Maddox first saw you hiding in your wardrobe after having killed your Father he was shocked to see such a pretty woman inside. He knew your Father had a daughter but he didn't know she'd be a fierce and beautiful young woman.

Maddox knew he had to have you. No way was he going to leave you in this bumfuck town in the middle of no where. You're too valuable.

He ties you up and takes you away from your hometown. You're his now so he's taking you with him wherever he goes. Having a pretty little accessory like you will give him bragging rights after all.

He takes you to saloons while he plays cards with his buddies. Has you sit still and look pretty on his lap while he drinks and plays. His friends say dirty things about you. Commenting on how submissive you are for Maddox. Maddox eats their comments up like a full course meal.

"You boys wish you had this fine piece of ass. But she's mine."

When you're at his temporary house he has you play housewife. You cook his food, clean his laundry, and most importantly you take him like a good girl and let him use you to pleasure himself.

"You like that yeah? You don't? Then shut your pretty little mouth n' take it anyway. Don't make me mad now."

But over the course of a few months and after spending more time with you he sees you less as an object to brag about and more as a companion. He sees you everyday so of course he develops feelings. Feelings he denies of course.

"You think cus' I'm being nice lately you can just skip doin' laundry? Well you've been a good girl this week so I'll let it slide... But you're doin' it tomorrow! No excuses!"

Maddox takes you to the saloon with him again as usual. This time the sexual comments his friends say make him see red. He draws his gun and shoots them all dead where they sit.

"I should have never let em' say that vulgar shit bout' you. Shoulda never let you in that shithole in the first fuckin' place. C'mon, we're goin' home."

Fucks you gently this time and prioritizes your pleasure over his. You're so cute mewling beneath him. Praises you instead of degrades you.

"You can take it princess, c'mon! Don't tell me to slowdown when I can feel how good you feel on me. Yeah that’s it, good girl. Doin’ so good for me… Ya’ feel divine~"

He slowly starts bringing you into town less often. When you ask why you can't come with him he simply says that you're safer at home.

A month goes by and you're tired of being holed up in his house. So you take the risk and leave while he's taking his afternoon nap.

Bad Choice….

"You thought you could leave me?! Baby I love ya', I really do but sometimes you're real fuckin' stupid."

Locks the doors, windows, and always has his eye on you. When he has to go out he keeps you tied to the bed by the ankle.

Every night he holds you close to him. He's a light sleeper, he'll feel if you move and try to escape him. If that happens he'll embrace you in a nearly bone crushing hug.

He’ll wrestle with you if you try and fight him, but he’ll never strike you. He’d never do that after seeing the abuse his Mother endured from her customers at the brothel.

Comes home one day with two golden rings. He wears one and forces the other onto your ring finger. It's a perfect fit.

"You're my wife now and I'm your husband. You'll address me as such, got it?"

No wedding, no priest, no judge, no documentation. He says you're his wife now and that's that.

"There's names engraved inside the rings.? That's just the name of the jeweler I got it from... Don't worry your pretty little head about it."

You two never get to settle down. You hop from one abandoned home to the other. After all he needs to always be on the run from the law. It's a stressful but exhilarating lifestyle. Danger lurks at every corner.

Loves calling you by his last name. Though your last name is still legally L/n; Maddox says that since you’re his wife you have his last name. After all you two are wearing the rings to prove it!

"Thank you for the meal Mrs. Graves, God you're perfect. Where have you been all my life?"

He adores your body. Doesn't matter what body type you have. Chub? He's kneading it with his hands while he praises you like the goddess you are. Insecure about how the outline of your ribcage is visible? He traces his fingers down to your tummy and then goes even lower... He can't keep his hands off.

Favorite thing to do is hug you from behind and just press your backside against him while you do chores. It feels so domestic and it makes him feel like he isn’t a wanted criminal for a moment.

Kisses? He loves to kiss you! His favorite spots are your ankles, tummy, and forehead. And your lips ofc!

Whenever you have to slip your stockings on he swats your hands away and does it. He’ll pull them up sensually and slowly, trailing kisses from your ankle up to your thigh as he does so.

“Your skin’s so soft princess, just wanna take a bite. You’ll let me right?”

He loves animals. His horse Jasper is his best friend. Jasper won't let anyone ride him except for you and Maddox. Anyone else gets thrown off and stomped on.

Since this is the 1800’s people don’t really bathe as often. But Maddox is different. He can’t stand having grime on him for too long after you called him stinky once. So now he bathes more often than most. And you bathe with him too. You have no choice in the matter.

“Mmm love it when you wash my hair sweetheart… Ya’ fingers feel like heaven..”

Maddox is a tough guy. He's taken bullets, stabs, you name it. He even survived a hanging once. If anything happens to you he'll fight God himself just to keep you safe. Even if it costs him his life.

"GET YA' MEATHOOKS OFF MY WIFE YOU FUCKIN' ANIMALS!"

Tells you he loves you everyday. And if you don't say it back? Well he'll just bug you until you say it. After your "marriage" he doesn't really punish you anymore. You’re his partner for life, you deserve the world.

Respects women. His Mother worked in a brothel so he witnessed how men mistreated women. He could never do that to you... Even though he did early in your relationship. But he'll never admit that! Bring it up and he'll call you crazy.

"Sweetheart I never harmed a hair on your head, quit talkin' nonsense."

Teaches you how to fire a gun just in case. Hopefully you'll never have to use the skill though.

Spoils you whenever he can. Maddox has a decent amount of money but it's still pretty tight. Buying you things isn't an option because being on the run means you need to have minimal baggage. So he treats you to dinners and cute little dates.

Overtime you get used to this life. You forget he ever even killed your old man.

Anyone is free to request anything! Don't be shy! I'm hyperfixiating on this oc so I'll happily write anything for him. As long as it isn't blatant NSFW :-)

[pedrospatch]

when i’m feeling alone, you remind me of home

Javier Peña x DEA Agent Female Reader

summary: Spending Christmas in Bogotá, Colombia isn’t ideal. Javier knows you’re missing home a little harder than usual, so he comes up with a plan to cheer you up.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. minor deviation from canon timeline (had to make it work), reader is an agent for the DEA, NO AGE SPECIED, NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION, reader understands and speaks spanish but no mention of her race or ethnicity, friends to lovers trope, reader celebrates christmas, reader has a good relationship with her family, minor smoking and alcohol consumption (both reader and javi), reader’s a bit rough around the edges sometimes. fluff, soft javi, he’s a bit of a grinch in the beginning though. switches in pov’s and tenses.

*ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS AT THE END.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: thank you to @hellishjoel for inviting me to join in on this fun project!

12 Days of Pedro Masterlist

Javier Peña doesn’t do Christmas.

He especially doesn’t do Christmas in Bogotá.

He doesn’t see the point even acknowledging it.

There are more important things on his mind.

Capturing Pablo Escobar.

Dismantling the dangerous Medellín Cartel.

Living long enough to tell the fucking tale.

Those were his priorities while in Colombia.

Not decking the halls with boughs of holly.

And yet, there he is, fighting with a string of bright and colorful lights, wishing these damn things would put themselves on the tree. “Puta madre,” Javi curses underneath his breath as he tries untangling them from around his waist. Somehow, he only makes it worse. He grumbles, “This is fucking ridiculous—it shouldn’t be this fucking hard throwing lights on a goddamn fucking tree—” He pauses, spins around to find where he’d gone wrong and then continues grouching to himself. “Can’t believe people do this fucking shit for fun. Stupidest thing I’ve ever—”

Javi manages to free himself and glances down at his watch to see he’s running out of time—it’s past five now, and unless Messina’s in one of those bad fucking moods of hers and decides to dump some last minute paperwork onto your desk, then you’re going to be walking through the front door soon.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling a deep and frustrated sigh.

He’d been an idiot to decline Connie’s offer to help him when she had dropped off the decorations for him earlier that afternoon.

“You sure you don’t need my help?” she had asked as she handed him the cardboard box overflowing with festive ornaments and tinsel. “I have a couple of more hours before I have to be at the clinic, you know. I can help you set it all up for her, make it all nice and pretty.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got it handled,” he’d replied. “I’m sure it won’t take me too long to put some—is this fucking fruit?” Confused, Javi shifted the box over to his hip, pulling out a string of dried oranges and red cranberries. “Um, what the hell is this for? This supposed to be a snack for me while I decorate?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a homemade garland.”

“It’s a homemade what now?”

“Garland, Javier. It goes on the tree.”

Amused, he’d raised an eyebrow at her.

“Fruit going back onto the tree? That’s ironic.”

Sighing, Connie rolled her eyes at him once more.

“Last chance. Do you want my help or not, Javi?”

“I appreciate it, but like I said, I’ve got it handled.”

She’d shrugged. “Alright, suit yourself, then.”

Little did he know how he’d regret his decision. It’s a bigger headache than he thought it would be, an incredible waste of valuable time he could’ve been using to hunt down new leads, do the job he came here to do and find Pablo Escobar. Then again, the more he thinks about it, the more Javi realizes this isn’t a waste of his time at all—not really.

Because he’s doing this for you.

Because he knows you love Christmas.

Because he knows you’ve been feeling homesick.

The season you normally adored was bringing you nothing but heartache this year. There is a void—a hole in your heart that only your family could fill.

“Messina denied my request for time off,” you had told him, taking a drag of his cigarette—you’re not much of a smoker, but he’d learned that tended to change on occasion when you were upset. “Said it isn’t fair to let me go home for Christmas. That I’m not the only one who wants to be with their family. And I get it. I do.” Sighing, you took a second drag and then handed the cigarette back to Javier; he’d put it between his lips, the taste of cherry flavored lip gloss that lingered on the filtered tip prompting a craving stronger than his craving for nicotine. “It was selfish of me to even think of taking time off. I just—I miss spending Christmas in my hometown, you know? Waking up to snow outside my window in the mornings. Building snowmen with my sister, hurling snowballs at my brother. I miss my mother and her cooking. I miss my father and how even at our age, he still insists on pretending to be Santa.”

Laughing, Javier leaned forward on his stool.

You’d asked him to meet you at your usual spot—a quiet lounge bar right around the corner from your apartment. When he walked in and saw the scotch in front of you on the table, he’d known something was wrong. You’re not much of a drinker, either.

“Does he eat the cookies and drink the milk too?”

You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest, a little grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. He tried not to let his gaze longer there too long—he’s just one man. There was only so much strength he could muster to keep fighting the temptation.

“Of course. He takes his role very, very seriously.”

Despite your smile, he’d noticed it right away.

The unmistakable sadness in your eyes.

You were tough as fucking nails.

In this line of work, you had no choice but to be.

But Javier knew your family was your weakness.

His weakness?

His weakness was sitting there in front of him with a crestfallen expression on her pretty face, tracing around the rim of her glass with her finger.

“It’s stupid, isn’t it?” Your voice had thickened, the emotions you’re used to bottling up threatening to boil over.

“Of course not,” he assured you. “There is nothing stupid about wanting to go back home to see your family. There’s nothing stupid about wanting to be with them for the holidays. I promise you that.”

You snorted. “Peña, we’re trying to bring down the most dangerous man in all of South America. Last thing I need to be doing right now is dreaming of a white Christmas. It’s fucking stupid, alright?”

Hesitantly, Javier lifted his hand and placed it over yours—it wasn’t the first time he’d ever held it, not the first time he had shown physical affection, but this was the most vulnerable he had ever seen you and he didn’t want to make things worse. Once he realized it was okay, he brushed the back of it with his thumb softly, soothingly.

“Yo hablaré con Messina, cariño.”

“No hay caso para eso, Javier.”

“Maybe I can convince her to let you go. She’s got me and she’s got Murphy. We’ll handle things here while you head home for a few days, spend a week with your family for Christmas. Doesn’t hurt to try, you know.” Javi squeezed your hand. Knowing just how fucking stubborn you could be, he insisted on it. “Por favor, cielo. Dejame ayudarte con esto. Yo solo quiero verte feliz. Dejame ayudarte.”

You drained the rest of your scotch and swallowed it along with the lump that had climbed it’s way up your throat. Setting the glass back down, you then pulled your hand out from under his and stood up.

“Forget it. I’m here because I have a job to do—we both have a job to do. I’ll get over it, Javier. Always do.”

Before he could say another word, you’d picked up your jacket and purse, making a quick dash for the exit before he could see the stubborn tear slipping out from the corner of your eye and down the side of your face. But he had seen it, and that’s exactly why he knew he had to do something for you.

About an hour later, Javi places a glittering star on top of the white spruce and then takes a couple of steps back, hands on his hips. Cocking his head to the side, he observes the tree and makes sure that he hasn’t left a single spot bare. He decides to add more gold tinsel until he feels oddly satisfied—and once he is, he pulls out his pocket knife, using it to open the small sized box he had brought with him; two different addresses were scribbled on the side of it in your mother’s handwriting, his apartment’s address the destination, her address the return.

“I wrapped it well,” she’d said over the phone. “It’s her most prized possession, so I really hope it gets to you in one piece or she’s going to kill us both.”

Javier slowly unwraps the object inside and feels a wave of complete and utter relief wash over him to see it made it through customs without breaking.

He squints, taking a better look at the ornament.

The little blonde ballerina is made of porcelain and holds a nutcracker soldier in her arms—the skirt of her dress is white lace embroidered with teeny red rosettes that perfectly match the blush painted on her cheeks and the color of the bow in her hair.

“It’s Clara,” your mother had explained to him.

“Who?” he’d asked, stupidly.

“Clara. You know, from The Nutcracker?”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” he’d fibbed. “Clara. Got it.”

He had no clue what she had been talking about—but if it’s special to you, then it’s special to him.

Carefully, Javi hangs it on tree just as he hears the front door open and then slam shut so hard that it causes the paper thin walls of your unit to rattle.

“Peña!” you shout loudly. “You fucking asshole!”

Lip rolling between his teeth, he stifles a laugh.

You must have seen his Wrangler parked outside.

Grinning, Javier steps out into the hallway to greet you. “Hola, hermosa. Bienvenida a casa.”

“So, let me get this straight,” you say, tossing your purse and unit keys onto a nearby table. “You offer to give me ride to and from work but then proceed to ditch me and leave work three hours early—you leave me with no other fucking choice but to call a cab to bring me home and when he drops me off, I see your fucking car outside of my apartment?”

Rubbing his chin, he hums, “Sounds about right.”

You approach him, your hands curled into fists.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Javier?”

Javi’s quick to hold up his own hands in defense.

He won’t put it past you to knock him out—he and Murphy have seen you bring down men twice your size before without a weapon. Neither of them can decide if it’s hot as hell or downright terrifying.

“Okay, put those away and let me explain,” he tells you, shaking his head. “I’m really sorry I did that to you, but I did it for a reason.”

You scoff, “Well, if that reason was to piss me off, I have some news for you—it fucking worked.”

“That wasn’t the reason. Not this time, anyway.”

Chuckling, Javier extends a hand, holding it out to you.

You peer at it. “What are you doing, Peña?”

“Ven conmigo, cielo. Tengo una sorpresa para ti.”

Suspiciously, you ask him, “What did you do?”

He laughs again. He knew it wouldn’t make it easy for him. “You do know how surprises work, right?”

You lift your chin. “I do and I don’t like surprises.”

“I know you don’t, but I think you’ll like this one.”

Javi continues to hold out his hand and waits.

He’s just as stubborn as you are, if not more.

“We can stand here all fucking night, corazón.”

Sighing in defeat, you place your hand in his, heart skipping a beat when he smiles and laces together your fingers with his own.

“Cierra tus ojos.”

“Javier, I don’t want—”

He quickly cuts you off. “Do you trust me?”

Of course. Hell, you trusted him with your life.

And not just because it’s a job requirement.

Huffing, you do as he says and close your eyes.

“Good.” Javier places his other hand on your waist and his fingers brush against the patch of smooth, soft skin peeking out from between the waistband of your jeans and the hem of your blouse. Ignoring his burning desire to feel more of you, he leads the way into the living room and positions you in front of the tree. Without dropping your hand, he moves to stand directly behind you, chest pressed lightly against your back.“Puedes abrir tus ojos, bonita.”

“Look Peña, I don’t know what you’re up to but—”

Your own startled gasp cuts you off mid sentence.

Squeezing your hand, he leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear and you can feel his grin as he whispers, “Sorpresa, preciosa. Tienes un arbol de Navidad. Qué tal te parece?”

You open your mouth to speak, then clamp it shut.

His surprise had left you speechless.

Pleased with himself, Javi nudges you towards the tree and then drops his hands down at his sides as he watches you gingerly touch the needles.

Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply, the delicious, woodsy smell of pine reminding you of your family and how you’d all pile into your father’s old pickup truck and head to the Christmas Tree Farm to find the perfect white spruce to take home. Your father took great care in the picking process—he wanted the tallest, fluffiest, most fragrant tree. “Need this place to smell like the farm!” he’d boom. You smile and can’t help but to think he’d approve of Javi—if not because of what he had done for you, then the choice in tree would be enough to win him over.

“Do you like it?” he asks, softly.

You open your eyes and whirl around. “Javi, I can’t believe you did this,” you say, breathlessly. Smiling brighter than the lights on the Christmas tree, you throw your arms around him. “I love it so much!”

He savors the embrace—and wonders if you know just how perfectly you fit right in his arms.

“There’s one more surprise,” Javier informs you as he spins you around to look at the tree once again. “Do you see it?”

“See what?” Peering at the tree, you frown. “What am I supposed to be looking for—wait a second, is that—is that Clara?” Your hand flies to your mouth and you look up at him in complete shock. “That’s the ornament my grandmother made for me when I was a baby! I’ve had her since my first Christmas. How did you—?”

“Santa no cuenta sus secretos.” Javi grins, pulling you closer against his side. “But if you must know, your mom sent it to me,” he confesses. “Actually, I have to be honest—this whole thing was her idea.”

Perplexed, you ask, “This was my mom’s idea?”

“I know you’ve been having a hard time being here during the holidays instead of with your family,” he says. “I called her up a couple of weeks ago, asked her what I could do for you. We started talking and came up with this.” He shrugs and touches a hand to the back of his neck, sheepishly. “I know it’s not the same as going home. But I thought it might be nice to bring a little piece of home here to you.”

Warmth blossoms inside of your chest as you turn to face him. You place a hand on his chest. “Javi?”

Nervously, his throat bobs. “Yeah?”

“Why did you do this for me?”

Javier lifts his hand and tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “I told you. I just want to see you happy.”

“But why?”

You know why.

But you need to hear him say it.

You need to hear it from his own mouth.

Javi’s hand moves to cup the side of your face. “Is it not obvious?” he murmurs as he grazes the silky soft skin over your cheekbone. “Tú bien sabes qué yo siento algo por ti, hermosa. Aunque no sientas igual.”

“How do you know I don’t feel the same for you?”

“Do you?” His thumb sweeps your bottom lip. “Do you feel the same for me?”

Your hand curls around his red plaid flannel.

“I shouldn’t,” you admit. “We’re work partners.”

He feigns offense. “Ouch. And here I was, thinking we were friends.” He now takes your chin between his index finger and his thumb. Licking his lips, his eyes meet yours. “Breaking my heart, baby.”

Your breath audibly catches. “We are friends—and it scares me to put our friendship on the line.”

“But?” he prompts as he tilts your head up toward his. His opposite hand finds your hip and pulls you closer to him.

“But when you do things like this—it’s hard for me not to fucking fall in love with you, Peña.” You drag your hand down his chest, your fingers relishing in the softness of his flannel. “It’s so fucking hard for me not to fall in love with somebody who feels like home.”

Javier’s chuckles softly.

“For the record, this wasn’t a ploy to get you to fall in love with me, corazón. But if it worked—” Javier pauses, dropping his hand from your face. “Then I guess it’s worth pulling this thing out.”

He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Javi, what the hell are you—?”

He grins, holding the mistletoe above your heads.

“Connie said this might come in handy.”

Your eyes flicker to his lips, then meet his gaze.

“Ven aqui, Peña.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull Javi in and crash your mouth against his. You brush his bottom lip with your tongue and he grants you the access you’re looking for. He tastes like spearmint and scotch, and something else too.

He tastes like yours.

And he feels like home.

diver credit to @saradika-graphics ❤️

Translations

Yo hablaré con Messina, cariño. - I’ll talk to Messina, darling.

No hay caso para eso, Javier. - There’s no point, Javier.

Dejame ayudarte con esto. Yo solo quiero verte feliz. - Let me help you with this. I just want to see you happy.

Ven conmigo, cielo. Tengo una sorpresa para ti. - Come with me, I have a surprise for you.

Cierra tus ojos. - Close your eyes.

Puedes abrir tus ojos, bonita. - You can open your eyes, pretty girl.

Sorpresa, preciosa. Tienes un arbol de Navidad. Qué tal te parch? - Surprise, precious girl. You have a Christmas tree. What do you think?

Santa no cuenta sus secretos. - Santa doesn’t tell his secrets.

Tú bien sabes qué yo siento algo por ti, hermosa. Aunque no sientes igual. - You know all too well I have feelings for you. Even if you don’t feel the same.

Ven aqui, Peña. - Come here, Peña.

[evilminji]

Gold can be exchanged for goods and services (o.o )

Pariah's Keep probably has a shit ton of Precious Goods from various places.

Danny is become King?

If Danny becomes King... then the Zone will somewhat obey him. The Crown and Ring could EASILY tell him where the next natural portal is, where it opens up, and for how long. How many there are. Could probably make a few.

Probably WAS supposed to be making them. Consciously. But, well, Coma(tm).

Would probably count as Kingly Duty to filter and collect. Clean Ecto goes out for souls that remain, a Gateway home for those that wish to LEAVE, so forth and so on.

Effectively, being The Grim Reaper. You don't CAUSE Death. You just guide the way home. If folks so choose.

And that's neat! Horrifying, but neat! And Danny can TOTALLY see how it would eventually drive him completely breakfast cereal fruity nuggets! LUCKILY, he's got a vaguely bro's/Mentor thing going with the ghost who has ALL OF POSSIBLE TIME flowing through HIS head! So Danny should be Gucci!

The headaches suck though.

But WHAT... to do with all this Gold and valuable Space Goods? Most of these aren't even recognized currency on earth! Like the Shells. You could buy a mansion with one of those... on the right planet. On Earth? Pretty paperweight. Hmmmm >.>

Wait.

WAIT!

<o> *points to top of head!* CROWN! It can? Predict and make PORTALS!

Portals lead any WHERE and any WHEN!

:O

Gold... can be exchanged for goods and services. He remembers, holding a gold brick, about to eat so, SO much pizza.

But WAIT! I hear you wondering! Surely, you mean? Within his past? The history and region of space he knows, right? Ha ha :) Nope! Cowards.

Danny is on the alien otter's planet, trading those sweet, sweet Shells for some snacks no human could eat and a shawl for his sister! He's hiding, badly, behind a food stall in the Martian market place. Hoping future hero J'onn Johnes doesn't notice him.

Lying to the Space Cops, bout where his untraceable Space Money came from, on an alien trading satellite. The Green Lantern's not buying it. Oh noooo >.> sudden Fright Knight. Looming Menacingly by the loading doooocks. Everyone's upset! Definitely not related to him! Better go check on that! :) *gets the heck out of dodge* (my king. Please stop using me as a distraction.) (No promises)

But! It's all fun and games? Until your human friends get sick. Like... REALLY sick.

And then you suddenly remember time and space mean nothing to you. One 15 minute flight that way, two doors, a quick flight of stairs, and a literal child's play place slide? You could be in the 32nd century.

That disease is AT BEST, an unpleasant afternoon, there.

Here, your friend could die.

You trade a student two Spanish dubloons. They have no idea what they are. Just like the look of them and know they're real metal. They walk into the pharmacy for you. Don't question your "social experiment paper" lie.

You're back in less then an hour.

The screaming argument about ethics and mortality lasts hours.

She still takes the medicine. Gets better. Won't talk to you for months. Because why does HER life matter more? Why bend the rules for HER? And you can't bring yourself to say what pulses as Truth from both Crown and Ring.

You could because she didn't Matter. Time... would not notice, nor change. She was in no way pivotal to the flow of history, must one more ant beneath its unrelenting march. Mattering only because those who love her CARE. Because one or two little things might change for the better.

But it takes the shine off of it, a little.

Being able to go to the FUTURE. Watch movies and see aliens and humans alike in the crowd. Read books and dance to songs from people who won't be born for hundreds of years. Eat snacks from the farthest reaches of the cosmos. Or the early BCs!

And that's BEFORE other time travelers clock him as That Shopping Guy. The one who keeps popping up... buying things. For what? Unknown. Probably dinner. Half the time it's food. Trinkets. Once it was a really, REALLY nice goat. (His aunt was THRILLED.)

It probably drives Bart crazy. Because NO ONE knows anything about the guy? Everyone just universally goes "oooh yeah! HIM! Yeah, he sure does Exsist(tm). Very... present and exsistant." Like that's not CRAZY! He has so many question. So Many! What is he even BUYING!? Why? Is there an order? Or is he winging it?!

*pulls out list* he needs ANSWERS!

@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight

[mediumgayitalian]

part two

———

Getting outrun for seven miles by an eight year old is a uniquely humbling experience. Compactly humiliating, coincidentally, is being outrun by an eight year old while dragging along a bouquet large enough that it cannot be adequately contained with two hands and must therefore be carried between two people.

Lee is having something of an afternoon.

“It starts in seven minutes!” shouts Will, at least twelve solid yards ahead of them and running backwards. He does not appear even to be sweating. “Hurry!”

“Could not be hurrying more if I tried,” Lee wheezes.

(It’s not that Lee isn’t a good runner. He is. It’s that Will is freakishly fast, because he has dimples when he smiles and has endeared himself to the dryads, who have been teaching him how to sprint like the hopped up little Energizer Bunny he is. Michael has been calling him Soda Boy for ages, on account of how he so closely resembles a can of pop that has been vigorously shaken, which he hates. Remembering it brings Lee some peace.)

“Let’s go let’s go let’s go!”

Clamping his mouth shut in a desperate attempt to preserve energy, Lee surges forward. Michael matches him, having to run significantly faster to keep up with his long legs. Their panting forms a discordant melody of despair. Poetic.

When they stumble through the door, chests heaving, Lee considers collapsing to the ground and weeping for joy. He will never run again. If a monster chases him, he will simply fight or accept his fate. He has reached his quota.

But, for perhaps the first time in his life, there is no time for dramatics. The lobby is devoid of the massive crowds it held earlier, shadows eerie in their absence, and only the final tail end of a line shuffles through the stage doors.

Despite his internal vow, Lee sprints forward to catch up with them.

“Hold it,” says a man in a venue volunteer! vest, holding up a hand. He glances at them, resting his gaze on Will’s messy hair, Michael’s scuffed shoes, Lee’s wrinkled shirt, and pausing for quite a while on the giant bouquet. The narrowed eyes and thinned lips are familiar. Lee stiffens.

“Go on in,” the man says to the middle aged couple in front of them, who’s crease-free jackets read ‘Dance Mom’ and ‘Prop Team Dad’ respectively. He shoos them inside, complimenting the honest-to-Apollo corsage in the woman’s hand, chortling along to the man’s joke. The laughter drops from his face the second the couple is guided through the doors, and the man turns back to the three of them.

“The show,” he says, nose upturned, “has begun. I can’t let anyone else in lest they cause any…disturbances.”

“The show starts on three minutes and forty-seven seconds!” Will protests, sticking his watch in the man’s face. Completely oblivious to his murderous look, he continues, “Forty-six seconds! Forty-five! Time’s-a-tickin’, let us in!”

The man bares his teeth in a smile. “Regrettably, you are too late. You’ll have to wait for the intermission.”

Will blinks at him. He looks at Lee, at the doors, then back at the man.

“But…we’re on time. And if we come back later, we’ll miss my sister’s dance!”

The man shrugs. “This will be a valuable lesson, then.” He purses his lips, glancing again at the bouquet. “Perhaps be more prepared, next time.”

Will turns back to Lee and Michael, crestfallen. He swipes quickly under his eyes, squeezing his thumb into fists, but the tears well up anyway. “We’re going to miss it?”

Michael snarls. In one quick move he shoves the massive bouquet entirely into Lee’s arms, yanks Will by the shoulders to stand behind him, and gets right in the man’s face.

“You listen here, you slimy ratbag, you had no fuckin’ trouble letting those last scragglers in so you better clean up your act quick before I —”

A loud crashing noise makes them all jump, interrupting him. Nearly crushing the flowers, Lee whips towards the source of the sound. One of the competition banners has been yanked down, metal frame collapsing on the tile floor. Fastening screws rattle to a slow stop beside it.

“What the —”

Another banner crashes to the floor. This time, the little hands that tore it down are a touch too slow to dart away, a blonde head not quick enough to duck behind a corner.

“Hey!” the man shouts. Shoving Michael aside, and moving quicker than Lee can think to stop him, he sprints towards the corner Will disappeared behind. “Get back here! You can’t do that!”

Lee curses, trying to manoeuvre the flowers to see and run at the same time. Michael runs ahead of him, on the man’s heels, chanting shit shit shit shit under his breath. Lee’s brain takes the initiative to alternate, chanting fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck every time he takes a breath.

They’re going to get kicked out for sure. Diana is going to kill them and it’s going to be justified, because Lee is going to have to live with the noble look he knows Cass will have on when she realises they’re not there to watch. The shakey, practiced smile she’ll slap over the disappointment in her dark eyes.

Shit shit shit shit indeed.

“Lee! Michael! Over here!” whispers a voice. Lee whirls around to face it — boy does he ever feel like a puppet on a stick right now — and, for the second time in as many minutes, feels his head pound at the disorienting frenzy of emotions that bubble up when he sees his baby brother’s face. Will stands half inside a doorway Lee hadn’t noticed on the way in, tucked in the shadow of a corner.

He is fast, holy shit.

“What the hell are you doing,” hisses Michael.

“Getting us inside! Hurry up!”

Lee doesn’t need further prompting, clock ticking in his brain. Gods, how long do they have left? Thirty seconds? Less?

“Most big theatres have sideline entrances,” Will explains after Michael helps shove the giant bouquet through the tiny door. He guides them, upright to their hunching, down a tight corridor. “They’re for performers to pop up in the audience without being seen. Mama and I race each other to find ‘em when she did shows.”

Lee had forgotten, for a moment, how much of his life Will has spent in and out of theatres, bars, stages. Naomi Solace has been growing more and more famous since…half of his life, at least. Lee remembers hearing about her four years ago, when she’d done a smaller show in Queens. A friend of his had gone.

Michael reaches out and tugs the mostly-undone ponytail he’d wrestled Will’s hair into that morning. “Good job, kid.”

He grins over his shoulder. “Thanks.”

They stumble into the darkened audience in the nick of time. The second Lee steps out of the cramped little corridor, dragging the stupid flowers (he is, in fact, regretting his choices at this point in time; when he has a free moment he will add this to the list of reasons he will be kicking his past self’s ass if the Hephaestus cabin successfully recreates DeLorean time machine) along with him, the stage lights come on. An announcer’s voice calls out, “Entry 109, Competitive Open Solo: Cass Hasapi.”

“Fuck,” Michael mutters. A quaint family of four gasps. He sneers at them. “Fuck, you see Diana?”

“No, is she maybe —”

“I think that’s her hair —”

“That person is way too tall, what are you —”

“I swear to the gods, I am going to kill you both,” whispers a beautifully familiar voice, and then Lee is being dragged. “Sit the hell down and shut the hell up. Will, baby, c’mere.”

Will climbs happily over the two empty seats, settling onto Diana’s lap and curling under her chin. He sticks his tongue out when Lee and Michael follow in behind him, struggling with the bouquet, muttering about favouritism.

“I’ve literally known you for six times longer than you’ve known him,” Michael mutters, sticking his tongue out right back. A grandmother with a severe bob whirls back and hushes him.

“Yeah, I’ve had all that time to get tired of your bullshit. Shut up.”

Before Michael can retort — Lee is sure he has an eloquent and devastating response, Lee has been helping him practice — soft piano drifts out from the speakers. A light turns on, pointed at the stage.

All four of them snap their mouths shut.

In the centre of the stage, Cass stands, poised. Her back is turned to the audience, arms extended above her and tilted to the right, as if reaching for the setting sun. Her hair, braided loosely back, brushes the edge of her thickly draping purple costume. Her knees are bent and locked and one bare foot sticks out like she’s trying to balance herself, like she’s mid fall.

A gravelly, male voice sings lowly along to the piano. How do you know which time might be the last? She moves along the dip of his voice, dragging her limbs through the rigid air. What I would give just to see you again? She moves with a swooping twist of her heels, twisting at the waist. Under the heat of the stage lights, her face contorts, forehead deeply wrinkled, mouth parted, breathing quickly. I’d walk to the depths of a world down below and demand to get back what some circumstance stole. She holds herself with such tension that Lee finds his own shoulders hiking up to his ears. Her chest moves rapidly, hands shaking, knees buckling. His breath goes stale in his lungs.

When the chorus starts, hard and heavy and sudden, I turned back one last time just to prove you were there, Cass hits the floor. He gasps with the rest of the audience, clutching the plush armrest, but it’s intentional, part of the dance. ‘Cause the last ray of sun made Eurydice cold. Collapsed on the floor, limbs bent, dress askew, she crawls, begging, towards the audience. Did she know? Did she know? Did she know? Did she know?

Cass does not move gracefully. She moves like a beached, gasping siren dragging herself back to the depths, like someone climbing out of a pit. Every movement looks heavy and painful. She looks at the audience and Lee is surging forward before he can stop himself, breath hitching, brain screaming: help her! help her! help her!

If I knew how it’d feel back then, I wouldn’t take another step.

Her body twists again, hair escaping her loose braid and sticking to her neck, her forehead. She claws at her throat like she’s suffocating, eyes accusing everyone watching like they’re holding her under. Each movement of her arms swell and sway on the beat, bare feet slapping the ground with every hit of the kettle drum. If you can see me it’s all in your head, but it feels real to me now, it felt real to me then.

Everything ends.

The piano fades out, the drums hit their last beat. All that’s left is the wretched guitar, taught like strings snapping, taught like the tense pull of her suspended muscles.

But I opened the door and went down the stairs; I turned back one last time to prove you were there.

As the last word fades, she drops. Not slowly, not evenly, but like whatever was holding her up crumbled to dust. Like she was shot. Her purple dress pools out around her like dark Hyacinth. She lays completely, entirely still.

The lights cut. The air in the audience goes heavy.

They come back on and no one says a word. Lee realises, as it drips onto his hands, that he is crying. Diana is, too, tear tracks too fresh to dry on her face, and Will is leaned forward so far he sways precariously. Michael’s hands are pressed harshly to his eyes.

Trancelike, Lee stands. All eyes snap, abruptly, towards him, but he ignores them. He looks straight across the rows of chairs and locks eyes with his sister, upright now, heaving, standing hesitant. She looks at him, and then beside him at Michael, and then at Will in Diana’s lap. They scramble quickly up next to him, and without any of them saying anything, they begin to cheer.

Cass’s face lights up.

With permission, much of the audience claps. No one stands as they do and as they continue hooting and hollering the claps fade quickly, replaced with stares and murmurs, but Cass still stands there, beaming, looking away and looking back like she can’t believe they’re there. That someone is there, that someone watched her, her, from beginning to end. A hand tugs on his sleeve.

“Can I sonic?” Will asks, raising his voice to be heard.

“Level four,” Lee allows.

He needs no further permission, grinning. He lets out a piercing whistle that makes everyone around them shout in alarm and Lee’s ears ring. But Cass laughs, loud and bright, so it’s worth it, and when Will looks at him in question he nods. The second whistle is definitely beyond a level four, but Lee doesn’t care. Cass looks the happiest he’s seen in a long time.

———

None of them care too much about staying for the other performances. But Cass has two more dances with her studio classes, spread out as they are, so Lee remains doomed to two hours of an aching ass and performances that come nowhere near Cass’s masterpiece. Will seems intrigued, though, by some of the pieces, so he grits his teeth and bares it. Besides, the rolled eyes he shares with Diana and Michael every time someone does something exceedingly cliche or tries and fails at depth (someone, often, being one of Cass’s teammates, shocker) makes it somewhat worth it.

By the time the judges call the last entry, though, Lee is ready to book it out of there.

The lights come back on and pop music plays through the speakers as dancers, in track suits over their costumes, congregate on the stage. Lee stands and stretches, letting Will stand on his shoulders and jump off into Michael’s arms to get some of his energy out. (And, also, ‘cause tossing a small child between them is fun. Diana jogs into the aisle so they can throw farther, but they all decide against it when a security guard glances over.)

After what feels like eight million years, the judges finally lumber over to the stage. The building voices hush as they climb the steps, standing in front of the gathered studios with cabled mics and stacks of foreboding envelopes.

“Welcome, dancers and families,” starts one judge.

She blabs on for several minutes about what an honour it was to judge and how wonderful everyone was. Blah, blah, blah. Lee spaces out about the time Diana’s eyes glaze over, and he looks instead to the gathered stage, observing. There are five different studios that he can see, each with about forty to fifty dancers. Mostly young women. They sit tangled together, legs on legs, arms around shoulders, feet tucked under thighs. Cass, he notices, sits on her own, at the very back of the stage. She sits straight-backed and proud, though. Chin lifted, braid resting over her shoulder.

Impossible to miss.

Two of her group dances win Diamond (Diana explains to them that this is Very Good. She thinks). Most others do not get this honour. Lee notices especially the older couple to their left looking quite sour. The glee he feels is indescribable.

“The winner for our open solo, for all age groups, was actually unanimous. It’s been a while since that happened!”

A girl near the front of the stage, who Lee recognises as the one to make a cruel joke about Cass’ mother, preens. Her solo was boring as hell. He’s not sure what she’s so smug about.

“With a score of 97.6, congratulations to Entry 109, Cass Hasapi!”

The four of them scream like lunatics.

They don’t even wait for scattered applause. Each one of them clambers up on the pristine chairs, covering them with scuff marks, and yell at the top of their lungs, jumping and cheering like chimps in a cage. Cass goes red, but she can’t hide her smile as she stands and accepts her award, grinning over at them. Michael holds up his camera and snaps a photo of her, pink-cheeked and wild-haired, glowing.

———

“Cass!”

Will sees her before the rest of them, sprinting towards the changeroom doors at top speeds and leaping up into her arms. She catches him easily, spinning them both around, pressing a thousand kisses to his hair and face.

“Hello, my darling! Hello hello hello!” Every word is punctuations with a kiss, or rather a press of her wide smile to anywhere she can reach. In seconds his cheeks are stained with her lipstick. “Oh, it has been weeks, darling boy, I missed you!”

Will clings to her sweater, face buried in the crook of her neck. She holds him just as tightly.

(Will has seen Cass more than Lee, in the past few months. He knows she’s made a few sudden trips to camp. But he also knows that she was the first one to welcome him into camp, the day his mother dropped him off, and when he was claimed she was the first to bring him home. She loves to tote him around, too, to have him trail after her for cabin inspections, holding the clipboard, or paint his nails when she’s bored. He misses her something fierce in the winters. She holds on tightly when she comes back home.)

Squeezing him one last time, she turns to the rest of them. Despite her wide smile, her mascara runs.

“You came,” she says, voice wobbling.

Michael clears his throat. “No shit.”

His voice wobbles, too.

“Come here, you goober.”

He’s the next to cling to her, inserting himself under her arm. She presses a kiss to his temple and he pinches her ribs, complaining, getting louder when she digs a knuckle into his hair. Diana jogs up and separates them, as she always does, flicking Michael on the forehead and pressing a kiss to her sister’s cheek.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers, squeezing her hand.

Cass’s tears spill over again. “Thank you.”

Lee clears his throat. He feels, suddenly, like a doofus, holding a bouquet of flowers the size of him, but Cass looks at them and grins again, chuckling.

“You sell your kidney for that or what?”

Lee snorts. “No, we exchanged Will. This is a clone.”

“Did not!”

Lee blows a raspberry. “Did too. Clone.”

“I’m not a clone! I’m me!”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Ya-huh!”

“Alright,” Cass interrupts, rolling her eyes fondly. She kisses the tip of Will’s nose again and sets him down, turning towards Lee, hands outstretched dramatically. “Hand me my dues.”

Because she is, at the core of her, a true daughter of Apollo, even though the amount of poise and grace that bleeds from her at any given time contradicts almost directly with the guy who beams Pocketful of Sunshine directly into their brains at five in the morning every single day without fail, she kneels with a flourish. Because Lee is, at the core of him, also a child of Apollo, he goes unquestioningly along with the bit, pulling out one of the flowers to knight her before resting the entire bouquet in her arms. She has to hold it with both hands.

“You guys are ridiculous,” she says, grinning.

“They are ridiculous,” Diana stresses. “Dumbasses were damn near late getting this for you. They already had flowers, mind you. They’re just dumb.”

Will holds up his hand with his watch. “I kept us from being late!”

Diana squishes his cheek. “Thank you, sweetpea. You’re already smarter than your brothers combined.”

“Stick out your tongue again and I’ll grab it, you little snitch,” Lee warns.

Will, darting to hide behind Diana, does not heed his warning. Because he’s a little shit. bc

The walk out of the building in a gaggle of movement. As other dancers and their families walk by, glowering at Cass’ flowers and at Cass in general, Lee makes a point to catch their eyes. To smirk. To let them know, without saying a word — you were wrong. Of course you were wrong. Look at how she’s better than your bitter ass without even trying.

It warms him inside, truly.

“I’m thinking,” Diana says, walking back to the car, “that we stop at Dairy Queen on the way home. On Michael’s dollar. Will, look real excited so Michael can’t say no.”

“I am excited,” Will says, turning to face him, “so that’s real easy.”

Michael sighs. He taps his foot on the pavement, glaring. He sighs again. “You’re getting s plain cone and that’s that. You understand me?”

Will takes that as code for ‘begin negotiating’. Diana joins him, the two of them chasing Michael to the car, yelling about Blizzards and sundaes. Cass falls into step next to Lee, adjusting the flowers.

“So,” she says, shooting him a small smile.

“So,” he intones.

“Diana told me you snuck the boys out of camp.”

“…Yes.”

“Organised the whole trip, basically.”

“It wasn’t hard. I just told Michael to pack his shit and he listened, for once. So.”

“Lee.” She waits for him to open the trunk, letting him stuff the ridiculous flowers inside before facing him, grabbing his hands and squeezing. “Thank you.”

“I don’t —”

He swallows past the lump in his throat. How can he say it? How can he tell her about being fourteen and older than half the unclaimed kids in Hermes, still reeling over camp as a whole, and the fear that had dissipated from his chest when she stood in front of camp and said, firmly, he’s ours? About the hours she spent listening to him ramble about Pokémon, learning the game for him, mailing him cards she finds around? About the letters she sends him every week without fail, even though she’s swamped with her own shit, because she remembers the night he cried, months and years of being weird and lonely and unlike anyone else he knew? How can he explain the bubbling in his chest, the ache for her, because of her?

“Of course, Cass.”

She opens her arms and he falls into them, forehead on her shoulder, arms tight around her waist. She grips around his back, pressing a kiss to his hair. His throat is dry, choking back the thickness of his tears.

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Lee.”

[wearebarca]

6. Captured // Alexia Putellas x Original character pt. 6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed somewhere too long. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself at critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

Word count: 4,3k

A/N: Hello, notify me if you'd like a little album of the pictures Rosalie takes. Spanish is from google translate so please be nice. French is my first language so all should be good on that part. Enjoy

“ You are telling me that tomorrow, Alexia Putellas is taking you on a date.” Lia Walti is a very calm and down to earth person, which is why Rosalie valued the woman’s advice and opinion. It had been a while since she had called her friend, the last time was her first week in Barcelona, but after her afternoon at the beach, Rosalie needed some of that calmness and a fresh set of eyes on the situation.

“ I mean, is it really a date? I basically forced her to spend the day with me. Besides, she could’ve just said that to confirm the time and not the fact that it’s a date. English is tricky as hell, you know.” Behind the Swiss, Rosalie could hear a loud laugh followed by a few sentences that made the player laugh. “ Is that Leah grumbling in the background?”

“ Yes, wait, she’s coming.” Shuffling could be heard as Leah Williamson appeared in the camera frame, next to Lia.

“ I said that of course, Alexia Putellas, twice Ballon d’Or winner, international football star, doesn’t know proper English. Of course Frenchy, that makes perfect sense.” Leah said, with a serious expression that soon faded once she saw her friend’s pout.

“ I didn’t ask for your opinion, Grumpy.”

“ It’s my pleasure to provide my valuable insight nonetheless.”

“ I just don’t know how to treat tomorrow, you know.” The two Arsenal players could see how this was affecting their friend, but they both knew that the French-Canadian was simply scared after what had happened in England. All she needed was that little push to dare let herself be comfortable with another again.

“Listen Liebling, tomorrow is nothing more than two people spending a day off together. Nothing more, nothing less. You simply enjoy the time you spend with her and the rest just comes naturally.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right.” Leah said, earning a small slap from the swiss. Rosalie took a deep breath. Her friends were right, this was no different from the supper they shared in Sevilla, but still, she could not help her anxiousness at the thought of spending the whole day with the captain.

“ Do you know what time she’s going to pick you up? Or are you meeting her somewhere?” Lia asked.

Rosalie froze. She had not realized that she had not discussed this with Alexia, nor did she get the blonde’s phone number before leaving the beach. “I don’t know, I didn’t take her phone number.” She all but whispered. A thud was heard in her phone speaker. She looked up only to see Leah’s head had made contact with their table. Lia was laughing.

“Can’t you just DM her?”

“What if she doesn’t answer her DM’s? She probably gets a hundred a day and doesn’t check them anymore. I don’t know, how am I…”

“Ok take a breath Frenchy, Grandma Bronze probably has her number.” Leah said, interrupting her friend that was clearly spiraling. Rosalie hadn’t thought about that. Otherwise, Ingrid probably had it too.

“Right, I should text her to see.”

“You do that Frenchy.” Leah said. “And don’t forget to tell us about your date, we’re invested now.”

“By the way, can you remind us of your marathon’s date so we can book our plane tickets.” Lia asked excitedly.

“ It’s the week after national camp.” The Canadian said checking her calendar where the dates were highlighted.

“ Are you still our photographer for camp and the Euros?” Leah asked.

“ I just confirmed it with the Lionesses management, yes! I can’t wait to see you guys, I’ve missed you.” Rosalie said excitedly.

“Are you flying with the Barcelona girls or leaving early to prepare?”

“ I’m flying with them, the marathon is three days after so I should be fine.”

“ We’ll meet you in Barcelona the day before the race. You should send us your address so we can book the closest hotel to your place.” Rosalie was about to answer when her phone started to vibrate. Upon a closer look, she realized that it wasn’t a number she recognized. She picked up the phone from the counter and opened her texts.

“ Hola Rosalia, Lucia gave me your number I hope it is ok:)”

Rosalie was silent, eyes fixed on her phone, offering the two Arsenal girls a perfect view of her wide eyes and forehead. There is only one person who called her Rosalia“ She texted you, didn't she?” Leah said matter of factly.

“ Mhm”

“ Answer her Frenchy, for fuck’s sake.” Leah said, exasperated by her friend’s behavior.

“ We’re gonna leave you to it Rosie.” Lia said, trying to calm down Leah who, even if she tried to deny it, was very much invested in the situation.

“ Merci les filles, I appreciate it a lot. Can’t wait to see you.”

“Go get her Frenchy.” Rosalie rolled her eyes then ended the call. And focused on the Spanish captain’s message.

“ Of course it’s ok :) I was wondering how you wanted things to work for tomorrow.”

“ I thought I could come pick you up around 10 if that’s ok with you, we could go get coffee and go to the market from there.”

“ Sounds good to me! I will send you my address.”

“ perfecto. See you tomorrow Rosalia.”

For the rest of the night, Rosalie spent her time deep cleaning her apartment. She wanted everything to be perfect for when Alexia would come. She picked her outfit, which consisted of flowy linen pants with a white tank top and a light sweater. After showering and making sure once again that her apartment looked presentable, she hopped in bed.

Unfortunately for the photographer, sleep did not come easy. An hour later, she was still tossing and turning, too apprehensive of tomorrow’s day to relax. After another half hour, she gave up and migrated to the couch with her laptop. If she was going to stay awake, she might as well make use of this time to get some work done.

A knock on the door woke the photographer up. It took a moment for Rosalie to realize that she actually never made it to her bed last night, and she had fallen asleep with her laptop opened by her side. Panic flooded her body as she jumped off the couch and ran to her bedroom to throw on the outfit she had chosen last night. Another knock followed by a small bark was heard and Rosalie all but ran to the door to unlock. She opened the door and bolted back in her room. “ I’m so sorry! I’m almost ready! Come in, make yourself home!”

She put her hair in a loose braid and grabbed the first cap she found in her closet and placed it on her head. Once satisfied with her appearance, she made her way to the living room, only to be met by a small excited ball of fluff. Alexia was still standing in the doorway, silently looking around the space. Rosalie picked up the small dog and made her way towards the footballer. “Allo! I’m sorry I seemed to have overslept.” she said with an apologetic smile.

Alexia broke out from her spell and smiled at the photographer. “Another late night working I see.” She said motioning towards the sofa where her computer and her pile of blankets from the night still laid.

“ Yeah, I couldn't sleep unfortunately.” A small smirk appeared on the captain’s features, but whatever she had been thinking about was eclipsed by Nala who had decided to give the smaller woman a deep face clean.

“Nala no!” Alexia said, reaching out to grab the little beast in order to make her stop her intensive licking.

“ Oh, it’s ok Ale I don’t mind.” She said, petting the small dog in her arms.

“ I hope you don’t mind me bringing her. We usually spend this type of day together, and she was very happy to know that we wouldn’t be alone today.”

“ I’m honoured to be allowed to spend the day with you guys.” She said laughing. “ I’m ready to head out if you are!”

They went down the stairs, Nala still in the photographer’s arms. Alexia’s car was parked right in front of her building. The footballer went ahead of her only to stop and open the door for the photographer. “ Merci! This is a nice car.”

“Si, we have a deal with the brand. It is fun to drive, more fun than your little car for sure.” She said with a teasing smile. Rosalie Let out a sound of indignation.

“Do not laugh at my car! It does the job very well!”

“ It’s so small, very cute.” Rosalie rolled her eyes which made Alexia laugh as she started the car and drove away. The drive was short and filled with laughter and fun banter, mainly about the photographer’s car.

“ I am only saying that you can’t carry a lot of stuff in this little car. It’s probably very uncomfortable.”

“It’s very spacious I’ll have you know!”

“It’s good for you I guess. Nina pequeña.”

“Hey! I’m average size!” The brunette said laughing as she turned around to look out the window. The streets looked familiar to the French-Canadian who realized that she had run here just before leaving for Sevilla.

“ I think I’ve run around here before.”

“This is my favorite part of the city. Only locals come here. The beach is nice and the little market is right next to it. It’s very calm.” She parked the car in a small street and got out to go around and opened the door for the photographer.as she stepped out of the car, she took a moment to really take in the blond. She was wearing a pair of light blue jeans, a loose shirt she had left halfway unbuttoned so her bralette showed. Her trusty white nike hat completed the look. She was gorgeous and Rosalie’s nervousness spiked a little at the sight.

Rosalie handed the blond Nala’s leash and they started walking towards the small shops that were lining up the street. It was a lot more lively then the last time she came here. Families were walking around and people were sitting outside the restaurants. The photographer turned to look at the footballer. Alexia smiled at her and beckoned her towards a small, rustic looking coffee shop.

“This is our first stop.” She opened the door and Rosalie was instantly met with the smell of freshly brewed espresso and baked pastries. A loud gasp was heard in the small shop which made the brunette jump a little. A small woman, who looked around her mothers age was currently making her way from behind the counter towards the duo.

“Alexia mija donde has estado! ¡Hace mucho que no te vemos!”

“Lo siento señora García, no he tenido mucho tiempo últimamente. » Alexia said, stepping forward, letting the tiny woman hug her fiercely. Rosalie stayed behind with a smile on her face as she witnessed the interaction. The woman and Alexia were chatting rapidly in Spanish, making it hard for the photographer to understand anything. She zoned out for a moment, taking in the space. This cafe reminded her of the one near the training center but, this one felt even more homy and intimate. The walls were full of art work which upon a closer look at the identification tag, were all made by local artists and available for purchase. The wall closest to the register was a floor to ceiling library with a multitude of books and board games available for the customers. A small children sized table in the far corner of the room was filled with coloring books and various types of crayons. The art work displayed around the area was very obviously made by children, and Rosalie laughed a little when she realized that they too, were available for purchase.

Strong hands grabbed her waist and turned her around.The photographer came face to face with the small older woman. Her smile was warm and her arms were already opened, ready to engulf the photographer in a bone crushing hug.

“¿Es esta la razón por la que has estado tan ocupada, querida?”

“No señora, ella es la razón por la que finalmente me tomo un día libre.” Alexia said with a fond smile. At her words, señora Perez grabbed Rosalie’s shoulders.

“gracias, ella necesita relajarse más” She told the photographer, who stayed silent, not being able to make the translation in her head due to the rapidity of their speech.

“Inglés, señora, Rosalia is still learning Spanish”

“Yes I am sorry. You take good care of Alexia. Gracias.” Rosalie smiled at that. Meanwhile, Alexia was watching the two interact. Señora Perez had dragged the Canadian towards a wall filled with pictures, no doubt to share the shop’s history with the brunette. This place was her pride and joy, she poured everything into making this place feel like home for her customers, which is why this was one of Alexia’s favourite places in all of Barcelona.

She made her way to the counter to order their drinks. Alexia had never brought anyone here, not even her sister. This was her little oasis in a city where everyone knew her name. Here, she was treated like a normal person, like a daughter even, not like the captain of FC Barcelona.

Her cups were placed in front of her by none other than Señor Perez. “ She must be important if you brought her here.” He said, leaning on the counter, watching his wife proudly showing the pictures she took of the world cup.

“Si, I feel good with her.”

“You keep this. It is rare.” Señor Perez was a man of very few words, which reminded Alexia of her own father. The man’s advice was all the more important to her. Her thoughts were interrupted by Rosalie’s return by her side.

“You really flew them to the world cup?” The brunette asked something close to admiration in her eyes. Alexia smiled at the fond memory.

“Yes I did, along with my mother and sister.” She said smiling. “They are big football fans. They deserved it, they helped me alot during my recovery.”

“Rosalia said she will come work in photos here sometime. She will get me match pictures for my wall.” The older woman said with a radiant smile, arm still hooked with the photographer’s.

“If you don’t mind me coming, that is.” The brunette said with a shy smile.

“Of course she does not mind. You come here like home. You show me ingles y me Spanish.” Señora Perez said in a tone that did not allow discussion. Alexia laughed at the woman and grabbed hers and Rosalie’s coffee.

“ Gracias María.” She said she let the smaller woman hug her. She turned to hug the photographer and whispered something in her ear that made the brunette blush furiously.

“You come back now, with pictures for my wall.” She said waving at the pair. Alexia held the door open for the French-Canadian. As soon as they stepped outside, Nala took off on the sidewalk seemingly knowing exactly what their next stop would be. They walked in the small street, side by side, sipping on their coffees while observing scenery around them.

“ How did you find this place?” The brunette finally asked.

“ When I ruptured my ACL, I got in a dark space. Even after I got the green light to walk again without the crutches, I did not want to leave home. My family started to get worried. They almost forced me to get out, go on walks. My sister told me that it was the perfect moment to really explore Barcelona, see beyond the training center and stadium.” The blond said, looking at her feet with a sad expression.

“I stumbled on this place during one of those walks. When I came in the shop was full of families and everyone seemed so friendly and happy that I decided to stay for a moment. I was scared I would get recognized but no one came to my table. I came back the week after, and the week after that as well. The third week, while I was ordering my coffee, Maria came around and asked her husband if “Senora Putellas wanted something to eat with her coffee.” That’s when I realized that they knew who I was, but simply did not treat me any different.” She said, smiling at the brunette.

“ At that moment, I truly needed that. I was still feeling like I was letting people down, or that I would never come back from this injury. It became part of my routine. Several times a week, I would go there to deal with my emails or simply to spend some time away from the football world. They always welcomed me with open arms. I invited them to my first game back. Antonio and Maria are both big Barça supporters, so I got them season tickets and to really thank them for everything they did, I paid for their trip for the World Cup.”

“ They seem like such warm, genuine people.”

“ They really are.” The blond chuckled. “ Maria seems to like you a lot. You’re gonna have to come back, otherwise she will not stop pestering me to bring you back.” The brunette laughed at that.

“ I promised her some pictures afterall.” the brunette said, already excited to see the nice couple again. The pair turned the corner and headed down a street that Rosalie recognized as the one leading to the beach. She could see that Nala was getting excited and pulling more intensely on the leash. “ You said that you found this place on one of your walks? You must live close then.”

“ Si, a few streets from her in fact. I’ll show you one day.” Alexia said, with a playful smile, which made the brunette blush slightly. They reached the beach soon after. There weren't many people around, only the odd couple walking with their dog or a few families having a picnic. Alexia pulled out a small ball out of her bag and took off Nala’s leash who barked happily at the sight of the small football her mom was holding.

Rosalie thought she would melt on the spot. The captain threw the ball and the small dog instantly took off. Rosalie sat in the sand with her coffee, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The air smelted of the sea and something sweet, like strawberries and coconut. The photographer opened her eyes and was met with shiny hazel ones.

“Your eyes are really beautiful.” Rosalie didn’t know what came over her. It was as if she could not control the words that came out of her mouth. The blond blushed furiously at the compliment. The photographer was about to apologise in fear of having been too forward but, she was interrupted by something resembling a little rat running towards them with the small football in its mouth.

“Nala! Seriously!” Alexia said, pulling out a small towel from her bag. “ She does this every time I’m distracted.” She said attempting to dry the small dog who was too excited to stay put.

“ Might as well let her play now that she’s already wet.” The photographer said laughing as she took the ball and threw it in the direction of the waves.

They stayed well after Nala exhausted herself running after her toy. She was now laying at Alexia’s feet, happily receiving pets from her mom.

“The only thing I miss about Canada is the nature really. Endless green forests with so many lakes.” Rosalie said with a nostalgic smile. “ It’s so beautiful, even during winter.”

“ I heard it gets very cold.” Alexia said with a grimace.

“ oh oui, where I’m from it gets as low as minus 30 degrees or more.”

“ I don’t like the cold.” Alexoa said, shivering just at the thought of such frigid conditions.

“ I bet you’d like skiing. You feel so free going down the mountain, like nothing can stop you.”

“ sounds dangerous to me. Although the after-ski sounds great.”

“ Yes! With hot chocolate and cheese-fondues and all the good stuff.” At the mention of food, a loud rumbling was heard coming from the photographer’s stomach. Alexia stood up and clipped Nala’s leash on her collar.

“ Let’s go to the market. We can find you something to eat there.” She said, holding out her hand for the photographer to grab.

The market was just a bit farther on the boardwalk, and was buzzing with merchants selling different types of products. It went from food like fresh vegetables to the latest catch of the day, as well as different artisanal items like handmade jewelry or little souvenir shops. Rosalie stopped in front of a display showing some bracelets harbouring the colours of their club. She decided she would get one and give it to Alexia at the end of the day. Unbeknownst to her, a few stands away, Alexia was currently picking out a similar gift, along with something that would calm the photographer’s hunger.

They arrived at Alexia’s car an hour later with bags filled with everything they needed to make Alexia’s paella. Rosalie was surprised to see that the footballer did not ask for her address or any directions to get back to her apartment.

Rosalie felt nervous at the thought of Alexia coming into her home. She’d always been skittish about inviting people in her space. It was her sanctuary and she had just started feeling home here, but seeing Alexia in her living room eyes scanning over the variety of cameras and pictures on display with Nala already making herself at home on her couch, Rosalie decided rather quickly that she did not mind having those two around.

“This is you and your uncle right?” Rosalie did not need to see on which picture Alexia had stopped. It surely was the one where she was on her uncle’s back after an important college football game. This was merely weeks before he had passed and it was one of the most precious memories she’d made. Sensing she had touched a sensitive subject, Alexia moved away from the picture and joined the French-Canadian in the kitchen area.

“ Now, I have heard that you are terrible at cooking, so you will do as I say, si?” Her tone was firm, yet playful as she was already taking control of the space. Rosalie felt a chill run down her spine at the blond’s words, but quickly shook it off. Or she thought so, because as soon as she turned around, the brunette felt hands at her waist, guiding them towards the cutting board and knife Alexia had set up for her.

“ Would you mind cutting these for me?” She asked, with her hands still lingering on the brunette’s hips. She was so close Rosalie could feel her breath tickling the hair at the base of her neck. She closed her eyes for a second, attempting to slow her breathing which had quickened at the captain’s touch.

“ Mhm,” Was all that she was able to answer.

“ Bueno, you can start with the onions and peppers.” she said, finally letting go of the photographer. During the whole preparation, Alexia made it incredibly hard for Rosalie to focus on not cutting off any of her digits. Everytime she would move around in the kitchen she would make sure to brush against the brunette or hold her by the waist when passing behind her. It was almost as if the Catalan woman was doing it on purpose. If only the Canadian would have turned around, she would have her suspicions confirmed by the smirk adorning the captain’s face every time she would notice the photographer’s breath hitch or the goosebumps that would form whenever she would utter more instructions close to her ear.

Rosalie was sure it was due to divine intervention if she was able to be of any use in the preparation of this meal. Her apartment was filled with the delicious smell of freshly made paella and Alexia looked satisfied with what they had cooked together. “ I think this is the closest it’s ever been to my mother’s” She said with a proud smile. “ All I needed was the right partner.”

The brunette smiled as she took out plates and made her way towards the living room when she had set up the coffee table. “ So what do you usually do while eating? Watch a movie, listen to music?”

“ I normally watch old games of our next opponents to study their plays better.” Alexia answered, bringing the dish to the table.

“ Even on your days off?” The blond gave an embarrassed smile as she pulled out her phone.

“ You did say you wanted to see what I do on my days off.” She said laughing. She pulled up on her phone the most recent Madrid CFF match she could find and casted it on Rosalie’s tv. They both ate while watching, occasionally discussing plays and weaknesses they could eventually use in the upcoming game. As the evening went on, both women slowly gravitated towards the center of the sof. Alexia ended up with her arm on the back of the couch, with the photographer practically nestled in the crook of her arm. It had been a long time since the captain had felt this relaxed in the presence of another person. She could feel the exhaustion slowly gaining on her, making her limbs and her eyelids heavy. The photographer shifted slightly, giving the perfect opportunity for the blond to finally warp her arm around the smaller woman’s frame.

“ Are you comfortable?” Alexia asked, turning her head slightly to watch the brunette melt in her arms.

“ Oui,” The answer came as a whisper. Alexia could see that the photographer was too, fighting against sleep. Still, she simply could not bring herself to leave, not when she felt this relaxed and at ease. She told herself that she would leave at the end of the game, so she could enjoy this peaceful moment a little while longer. Only her body had other plans, because just a few minutes later the footballer finally succumbed to the heavy pull of sleep

[grandline-fics]

Hi hi! I wanted for so long request for crocodile but I wasn’t sure at all if you wrote for him! Thankfully you made a fic with him so I have confirmation now ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

What about a fic with crocodile of course with a reader who’s smart but very dumb about love and don’t get all the hints he gave to her. Like he tries to seduce her and she’s too innocent stupid for take the hints? Like he takes her to diner and else and she still saw him as a good friend? Or partner of crime. Either at the end she falls for him or either crocodile falls in friendzone as you want, up to you 🙌

DESCRIPTION: You’re completely oblivious to the obvious

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Crocodile

WORDS: 954

A/N: Thank you so much for this request. I hope you like what I was finally able to come up with for this.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

Crocodile had no time for stupidity or anything that could be considered a case of his time and you were certainly worthy of his attention and notice. You were an individual who caught his eye the second you walked into the Cross Guild headquarters, introduced to him and Buggy by Mihawk as the newest recruit. He’d heard your name before, having gathered a stellar reputation on the Grand Line as a skilled individual but until now he’d never had the pleasure of putting the face to the name. You’d greeted him and the Clown respectfully enough but from the way you held yourself and stood so relaxed it was clear counted yourself as an equal with them and not a subordinate. Ordinarily that kind of attitude would have left him irked but given your reputation and knowing how valuable having someone of your skillset was he allowed it without any comment. 

Over time you secured your place with Cross Guild seamlessly and swiftly bolstered the entire operation’s reputation just as Mihawk knew you would, something he would smugly bring up during petty disagreements between himself and the other group founders. The more time you spent with him, the more Crocodile found himself certain that he needed to pursue romantically. You were shrewd, powerful, could match him easily with your wit and tastes. The only problem was that in his pursuit you had yet to catch his less than subtle hints. As smart as you were, in terms of romance you seemed utterly clueless. 

During the conversations you’d shared he’d come to know a lot about you and obviously he used that information to his advantage. The second he knew about something you liked, he was using his resources to acquire it all to gift you. Seeing your eyes light up when presented with the items no matter how big or small, even if it was something that had no immense cost to him was definitely the highlight of his day. You would always thank him and cherish the gift, still unaware of what you’d possibly done to deserve more kindness from the man. On the recent occasion you were presented with another amazing gift you looked up at him with a bright smile. “You really didn’t have to, on my next mission I’m going to get something better than this to make it up to you.”

“Not necessary.” Crocodile had insisted, the calm smirk still on his face as he watched you playfully scowl at him. This wasn’t the first time you’d had this exchange with him and as always he’d follow it up with an offer. “Have dinner with me tonight and we’ll consider the matter settled.” 

As always you smiled and accepted his offer, but like always you merely seemed to view it as a meal between friends and nothing more. However that afternoon your eyes were finally opened to the reality of the situation when you were showing Mihawk your newest gift. 

“Honestly the two of you are exhausting.” He sighed making you look at him in confusion. “Okay, you’re more confusing than he is. Honestly the man has more patience than I do to let you be this dense.”

“Did Buggy break a bottle of your favourite wine or something?” You asked dryly. “You’re less pleasant today.”

“Have you ever stopped to ask yourself why Crocodile gives you so many gifts, requests you join him to lavish places when he goes on his own missions, asks you to dinner, and talks to you everyday?” Mihawk asked, his intense golden eyes fixed on your face as he listed all Crocodile’s actions around you. Infuriatingly you merely laughed and shrugged your shoulders. 

“Because he’s nice.” You explained simply. “You know him, Mihawk, that’s just how he is. You founded this whole enterprise with him. He likes to give gifts and is friendly. What else is there to say?”

“Nice? Friendly?” Mihawk repeated, slowly blinking at how bad this was. “Want to know how many times I’ve spoken to Crocodile this month? Twice. You’re the only one who he treats this way because he likes you deeply.” 

You held back the urge to laugh as the revelation threw you off. Part of you wanted to dismiss Mihawk’s claim as ridiculous but now that it was pointed out to you, you thought over everything. Finally you saw it, just as Mihawk had said, Crocodile only treated you this way. Now you began to see why others gave you a strange look when you talked about him so positively and it also explained why the mention of the man brought a look of fear to their eyes. “Oh…”

That evening when Crocodile went to fetch you to take you to the restaurant he’d chosen for your meal he was surprised to see your appearance was different. You always looked amazing but this evening your features and body were even more emphasised. “What’s the occasion?” he asked smoothly as his gaze moved appreciatively over your form.

“Well I thought I’d finally make more of an effort for you.” You explained with a smile, looking at him with a deeper stare that Crocodile hadn’t seen before. “I thought this would be the best way to make it clear to others that we’re dining on a date and not just as friends. You don’t mind do you?”

“Not at all.” Crocodile’s signature smirk grew into a satisfied grin as he slipped his hand around your waist and began to walk with you out of headquarters for all the others to see. From his spot on the balcony Mihawk’s expression grew smug. This was most definitely another thing he was going to take credit for at any given opportunity. 

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TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa

[coffee-seedy]

Valentine's day

Genshin

Day 2: Dan Heng, Gepard, Jingyuan

a/n: istg seedy school is crazy for expelling her just because she's always sick, so im off tumblr for over one week to take care her problem. (Genshin valentine part 2 will be come soon-)

Dan heng

this man is too busy with his book to notice you, even though he is actually currently thinking about a valentine's gift for you. when he was in xianzhou luofu later he would go to scalegorge waterscape to look for something there, the last time he was there after fighting phantylia, he found a beautiful stone that could be used to make rings or necklaces.

so in the end he will go to xianzhou luofu again to pick up the stone, even though he doesn't want to set his foot down there he is forced to do it for you, and only you of course. while on the other hand, you trying to get his attention and are confused because this man has been daydreaming for a long time, what is he even thinking?

valentine's day was approaching and dan heng still hadn't found the stone he was looking for, despair overwhelmed him before finally finding the stone near one of vidyahara's eggs, it's not near but its a bit under the eggs. he had to be careful not to crack the egg or worse, break it and become a sunny side up egg.

slowly but surely he was able to remove the stone safely without the eggs breaking. finally, he took the stone back to the astral express so he could finally shape it into a ring, was he going to propose to you? still not sure, what is clear is that he wants this gift to be the most valuable of all, in other word yes he wants to propose to you.

because he can't make a ring, he commissions someone to do it for him and will pay a lot of credit, the person who made the ring for dan heng agreed and started giving a lot of examples of what the ring will look like. dan heng chose the shape for a long time and finally found the right shape that suits you, the person understood and started working on the project.

day after day passed until valentine finally came, dan heng had gotten the ring and didn't forget to put it in a safe place. while you were wrapping a book you found in belobog and also xianzhou luofu for dan heng. the two of you promised to meet at aurum alley in the afternoon, when you got together you immediately spent time walking around and eating. until finally at the end of the date, dan heng suddenly stopped in his tracks and started looking at you, you who saw him suddenly stop out of nowhere confused about what was happening.

slowly he began to kneel and took out the ring box… “[Name] you are the most precious person in my life, I am kneeling here wanting to ask you something… will you marry me?” you immediately fell silent, not knowing what to answer, tears slowly started to flow from your eyes, making dan heng panic and start to stand up to wipe your tears.

he might not get your answer yet, but he knows what your answer is…

Gepard Landau

captain of silvermane guards and noble from landau family, how lucky of you can get his heart. you and gepard have been dating for a long time, or more precisely three years, but your relationship is very special, even though he is always busy with work, of course he makes time to celebrate valentine's day with you.

this year is like the previous year, but what's different is that gepard is confused about what to buy you, even though you always say it doesn't need to be extravagant, he still insists on giving you the best.

he went to Serval to ask for suggestions for your valentine gift, “oh you gepard, buy them a plushie and a novel. try it, it will work!” he was a bit hesitant and suspicious... but this was his sister, of course her advice was always good, so he did it even though he didn't know what plushies and novels you liked.

when valentine's day arrived, the two of you made an appointment to meet in front of the belobog museum building in the afternoon. so you take the time to get ready and also decorate the valentine's chocolate that you made, when you arrive in front of the Belobog Museum, you don't find Gepard anywhere, maybe he's on his way here.

and of course you were right, you saw him running towards you in his formal clothes and not his silvermane guard armor. it's very strange to see him dressed formally at a simple date like this, but this is what you like about him. he looks out of breath from running out of nowhere so you give him time to normalize his breathing.

when his breathing was stabilise, you first sat near the museum fountain, there you took out chocolate from your bag and gave it to him. "Happy Valentine's Day Gepard," you said to the man and handed him the chocolate, gepard was only silent for a moment before accepting the chocolate from you. when it was gepard's turn to give the gift, he realized... he had left his gift at home.

wow gepard, you are embarrassing yourself in front of your future wife.

Jing Yuan (ft. Yanqing)

The dozing general always has a trick up his sleeve they say, as his wife the facts are true. you don't know what your husband has planned or surprises he makes for Valentine's every year, but that's what you like about your husband in general.

today is valentine's day, and your husband chose to take a day off just for yourself, and yanqing out of nowhere took a day off too... how strange. they both never take a day off on the same day, but you don't care and still spend your time with your little family. the only strange thing is that yanqing is a bit clingier than usual but you don't really mind.

at afternoon, yanqing invites you to go out for a walk, of course, as a good mother to him, you agree without thinking twice. you didn't forget to tell jing yuan that you and yanqing would be out until evening and he just agreed, usually he would grab your waist and tell you to stay.

You didn't really care and left. about walking until eight in the evening, because Yanqing pulled you to the food stalls in Aurum Alley and also to the sword shop. All these activities drain a lot of your energy, so when you two get home, yanqing immediately falls asleep leaving you in the kitchen to store the food you brought. when on the way to your bedroom you see lots of rose petals on the floor leading to your room, when you open the door to your room you find your husband sitting on the bed with only his bathrobe, and what's worse, the top part is wide open shows quite a tempting sight for anyone who sees it.

oh, so this is what the dozing general is planning.

a/n: this should be come out last week, but ye-

[fatkish]

I was wondering if I could get Tenya with a friend reader that has verbally and physically abusive parents (and if it could end with him helping reader leave, that would be great!)? Thank you for considering!

Tenya Iida x Reader Drabble

Your parents weren’t the best. They are physically and verbally abusive towards you. You have a mutant quirk that gives you dragonfly wings, pointed ears compound eyes similar to that of an insect and a lizard like tail. You’re able to breath fire and are impervious to flames. But your parents aren’t mutants so they think certain aspects of your appearance are ugly, even though you’re covered in iridescent, shiny (f/c) scales.

You are a student of class 1A and are in seat 21 and are ranked 7/21 academically. Quirk-wise, you’re ranked 10/21 for your overall quirk performance in Aizawa quirk apprehension test. You were transferred to UA due to your parents insistence, your teachers at your previous school knew about your parents treatment of you and tried to help you but they failed. When they sent over your student transcripts, they alerted UA about it secretly, needless to say, UA accepted you after seeing how well you used your quirk and the fact that you were among the recommended students.

It was a weekend day when you unintentionally met Iida. You and Iida had become friends over the early school year and became study buddies. You had been out getting groceries after studying at the library and were running late getting home that afternoon when you ran across Iida. Being the responsible young man that he is, he insisted he help you with your errands and to avoid suspicion, you agreed to let him help.

You both had finished your shopping and were headed towards your house. You tried to insist that you didn’t need any help bringing everything in but he persisted. So you unlocked your front door and let the two of you in. You both walked into the kitchen and you began to put the groceries away with Iida’s help. You had been putting the vegetables away when your mother walked in and eyed Iida.

“(Y/n), who is this? I don’t recall saying you could bring anyone over.” Your mother chided in a sugary sweet tone that you knew meant you were in trouble.

“Ah! Hello, my name is Tenya Iida and I humbly apologize for entering your house unexpectedly, I merely wanted to assist my friend (y/n) with their chores since we happened to meet at the store. Please accept my most sincere apologies” Iida deeply bowed as he spoke to your mother.

Unknown to Iida, your mother was the worse of your parents and would never pass up a chance to ridicule you. Knowing that nothing good could come from this interaction, you kept your head down as your mother invited Tenya to stay for dinner. As your mother talked to Iida in the living room, you were stuck in the kitchen making dinner, which consisted of chicken Katsu curry, sesame spinach salad and miso soup. For dessert you made Sakura rice cakes and Sakura mochi.

It was 5:00 pm when your dad got home and you had just finished making dinner when you mom walked in with Iida and your father. After greeting your father, Tenya and your parents sit down for dinner while you serve everyone. Iida can somewhat sense the tension but he doesn’t know what the reason for it is. As you sit down and you all begin to eat your mother begins to talk.

“So Iida dear, I hear you go to school at UA, how is it?”

“Well, the teachers are among Japan’s finest and we learn very valuable lessons from them.”

“You seem like a very smart and accomplished young man”

“Why thank you Mrs. (l/n)

“It’s too bad our (y/n) can’t be more like you. I mean, they can cook well at least, but that’s not enough to get them anywhere. I just fear for their future ya know, with the way they look, it’s not like anyone is going to be attracted to them. Our little (y/n) will be alone for their entire life”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t believe it’s right for you to say such things about (y/n), they’re incredibly smart and talented and are one of the top students in our class. I don’t think there’s any need to fear for their future”

Iida tried to reason and defend you but your mother persisted with her cruel words. You tried to get Iida to stop but he continued to defend you. After a few more harsh words left your mother’s lips, Iida had had enough.

“I think it’s time I went home, thank you for your hospitality. It is late and I should be heading home.” You had walked Iida to your door and that was when you both heard your mother call you a freak. You hung your head as you said goodbye to Iida. As he left you went back inside and closed the front door only to be smacked across the face by your mother.

Your mother began to berate you and scold you for inviting a ‘friend’ over. She continued to hit you as you just let her hit you, knowing that fighting back would only make it worse. It was when she used her heat quirk to burn you that the front door opened and Iida pushed your mother back. He quickly had you gather your things as he called the police on your mother for abuse.

When the police came and arrested your mother, Iida offered for you to come and stay with him and his family. You tried to deny his offer but he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He brought you to his house, which was huge by the way, and explained to his mother what had happened and that you needed a place to stay. When his mother heard what your mother did to you she told you to stay as long as you needed.

His family was so kind and you got to meet his older brother Tensei. His family welcomed you and treated you nicely and it made you realize how much better things could be. Eventually Iida’s family became your found family and you loved having dinner with them. Your parents had lost custody of you and the Iida’s happily adopted you and you officially became part of the family.

[thebluestbluewords]

remedial goodness

is a never ending font of potentially disastrous lesson plans.

here’s one way it could go:

“Welcome!” Fairy Godmother says brightly. “Good afternoon, class.” 

Silence. 

“I said, good afternoon, class!” 

Stony silence. Noncompliant silence, even. 

They’re villains, not heroes. They’re not going to beg for approval. 

Finally, she clues in to the fact that they’re not going to respond to her perky overture. A little late, but the potential for learning is boundless at Auradon Prep. Or so the flyers that Carlos has been collecting say. 

Fairy Godmother claps her hands together, like they’re a bunch of babies, and they need a visual cue as well as the verbal ones they’ve been ignoring. “Ah, here in Auradon it is polite to respond when one is being greeted! You say, ‘Good afternoon, Fairy Godmother.’” 

She nods into the resulting silence, like she’s imparting valuable knowledge and then agreeing on their behalf, not talking to herself like every other teacher who’s started right in on the lecture regardless of how many delinquent princes and princesses are blatantly not listening. 

Or maybe Mal’s just projecting, and she’s been the only one ignoring her teachers all day. 

Whatever. It amounts to the same thing, which is that Auradon teachers are a bunch of pompous try-hards. And teenagers here are the same as teenagers back home, which is to say, they’re all terrible people in their own special, unique, beautiful ways. 

“Good afternoon, Fairy Godmother!” Evie chirps after a moment. 

“Oh. Thank you, Genevieve.” Fairy Godmother says, in a small sort of voice. The sort that’s a precursor to the guilt trip, where the adults sit you down and tell you how much they care about your future and how they want you to do your wickedest work for them, because if they don’t see your worst, how will they ever be able to trust you with eviler tasks in the future? “We’ll work on it.” 

Evie flashes her a smile. “It’s just Evie, actually. Genevieve is what my mom calls me.”

Fairy Godmother winks at them.  Like she’s their friend. 

Disgusting. 

“Alright, just Evie. A lady is never just anything, you know. When Cinderella called me up on that fateful night, all covered in ashes, she was still a princess. She just didn’t know it yet.”

“Of course, Fairy Godmother.” Evie says sweetly. 

“Never undervalue yourself, girls. After all, here at Auradon Prep, we made goodness even better!” 

She beams. 

Mal chances a look at the boys. Jay is spinning a pencil around his fingers like it’s a knife, and Carlos is staring directly ahead at Fairy Godmother, face completely blank. 

Evie’s pocket mirror is already out on the desk. 

Yeah, they’re gonna have a great class period. 

Fairy Godmother lets her words hang for a moment, and then claps her hands again. “Er. We’re here today to teach you about goodness, so you can start on the path to a better life here in Auradon!” 

“Better living through pastel uniforms,” Mal snarks under her breath to Evie. 

FG’s head shoots up. “What was that, dearest?” 

Fairy hearing. Right. 

“I said, I can’t wait to start learning. I’m just so excited to hear all about the goodness lessons that you have set up for us!” Mal says, pushing all the false cheer she can manage into her voice. It’s a lot. She’s had plenty of practice skirting the line between lying and just manipulating the truth, and her tone of voice doesn’t count as lying. It’s the actual words that matter. “I just love learning!” 

“Oh, that’s very sweet of you, dear one.  Now, I have some textbooks I’ve placed just up here for you. If you would each take one of these, we’re going to start with a little quiz, and then if we have time left over, we’ll jump right in at chapter one!” 

Mal– 

Mal should pay attention. She has a textbook in front of her, passed along by Evie, who got up to grab the whole stack of them to pass out, because she’s a teacher’s pet even in princess-land. She’s got a pencil in her hand, because she’s not stupid, and after a whole day of this shit she’s picked up on the idea that she’s supposed to sit quietly and pretend to take notes in class, 

She’s even got paper in front of her, but every time she puts the pencil to the paper, she just– 

Her brain skitters away from the shape of it. 

She wants the wand. 

She needs it. 

The wand is their ticket out, and now that she’s seen the accursed thing in person, her fingers  are itching just thinking about it. Her mother’s spellbook is one thing, but the wand–

Mal flexes her fingers around the slim weight of her pencil, which is too thin, too sharp, not magical, not heavy and buzzing with the weight of the power inside it. She needs that wand. She’s never needed anything as much as she needs the wand, and her whole body feels strange and fizzy with the feeling. 

The spellbook is fine. It’s  magic too, but it’s old. Worn out. Her mother’s captivity under the barrier has drained the magic out of it, and besides that, Mal’s young. She needs the power of the wand, not a moldy old book. Wands are the tool of the modern magic user. She can practically taste the magic, the buzzing, humming warmth of last night flowing through her again, a little bit sharp, making her mouth water like the canned pineapple they’d saved back home until they could heat it up on their purloined bunsen burner until the syrup went sticky-sweet and the fruit burst hot and sharp on their tongues. 

Fairy Godmother’s magic tastes special. Like nothing Mal’s ever had before. 

She needs it. 

Somebody stomps on her foot. 

Shit. Okay. Magic cravings later, class now. She’s got this shit. 

“I said, does anyone know what to do if you find a bottle of poison!” Fairy Godmother says, with the tone of somebody who’s been repeating herself for a while. She sounds a lot like the younger teachers at Dragon Hall, the minor villains who teach things like mis-spelling and wicked grammar. Sort of impatient, and on the verge of shouting at them about it. 

Just like home. 

Mal scans the board, and immediately identifies the answer Fairy Godmother is fishing for. She doesn’t– 

She doesn’t even want to know what her crew has been doing while she’s been zoned out. 

“C, turn it over to the proper authorities.” Mal says, without raising her hand.  It’s not like they don’t understand the laws governing Auradon, it’s more that the laws are always boring and usually archaic too, and it’s way more fun to ignore them. Being truly evil isn’t about not understanding how to be good, it’s about understanding, and choosing the wrong path on purpose. 

“Correct,” Fairy Godmother says, beaming at Mal. She can’t risk a look at the boy’s desk, not while FG is looking right at her, but if answering one stupid question gets her this kind of praise, Mal cannot fucking imagine what they’ve been doing while she’s been spaced out. Stabbing each other with pencils again, probably. They’re going to get an infection from it, and she’s going to laugh at them both. “Very good, dear. You have quite a bit of promise. Now, in this day and age it’s not very likely that folks will leave their poisons out in the open anymore, not with the advent of digital media. Ignorance is the poison of the mind, after all. If you see someone spreading misinformation on the internet, what should you do to help stop the problem?” 

“Kill them.” Evie chirps. “Cut the problem off at the source, right?” 

Fairy Godmother’s sappy-sweet smile slides right back off her face. “Oh. No, dear. We don’t kill people.” 

“Oh,” Evie echoes, saccharine-sweet, just like Fairy Godmother. “I see. I just think it would be best if we stop the problem right away. Before the information reaches anybody else.”

“And you can. Look, here.” She taps the board, which ripples into a screen. There’s a royal media post pulled up, from an account called RoyalAuradonAcademyUnofficial, which reads– 

‘The sky is green,” Evie reads aloud. “The sun is purple, and the enchanted lake is made of strawberry jell-o.” 

“On royal media, there is a button just here–” she taps the board. “For reporting misinformation. That’s what we do to stop it from spreading. We tell an adult.”

Fairy Godmother beams out at them, confident in the perfection of her lesson plan. Surely, this will teach the awful villain kids how to behave responsibly. Surely, they won’t take this opportunity as inspiration to, oh, set up royal media accounts dedicated to posting an automated feed of bullshit information to anybody unlucky enough to accept their buddy request. 

It’s like she’s never met a teenager before. 

Jay raises a fist. “What’s a jell-o?” 

“Ah–” 

“It’s ground cow’s foot. You can suspend hot dogs inside it,” Evie says helpfully. “I’ve never heard of strawberry jello before, though. It’s probably an Auradon thing.” 

“You’re an Auradon thing.” 

“I don’t think I’d look very pretty suspended in jell-o, actually. My hair wouldn’t set properly. Although I suppose if the whole lake is made of it, maybe it’s a magical thing, and I should be open-minded about giving it a try.” Evie finishes, beaming. “That’s what goodness is about, I think. Staying open minded.” 

“Ah, dear ones–” 

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: before the nightingale sings

---------

for my batdad blood blossom au, the one where Vlad poisoned Danny with blood blossom extract and Danny ran away from him and ended up tumbling into the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman :). A quick oneshot telling the tale of the tragic deaths of the Fentons

TW: Major Character Death Warning

-------

Not all deaths are created equal.

That is a valuable lesson in life to learn. One that Danny learns when he is eleven years old, standing in the pit of his parents’ creation; the culmination of their life’s work. The portal to the other side, the realm of the dead. To the infinite. 

He learns that when he’s eleven years old, in a hazmat suit that sags on him, and boots that clunk when he walks because the only ones that fit are his mom’s, and even those are too big. In gloves that he has to clench his fists in because otherwise they fall off. In goggles that slide down his nose even when he’s tightened them the farthest they can go. 

He learns that when he’s eleven years old, choking on giggles that harmonize with the laughter of his friends’ who stand at the mouth of the tunnel. Sam’s holding a polaroid in her hand. They’re just being kids. 

They’re not laughing when Danny’s hand hits the safety lock — the one with faulty wiring, the only one in the tunnel. The only one he could possibly hit. They’re not laughing when the portal buzzes to life, and the lights inside switch on row by row as the generator begins to rumble and hum. 

They’re not laughing when Danny dies. They’re screaming. They’re not screaming when he comes back.

Not all deaths are created equal.  

Some are poetic, beautiful. The satisfying close of a book as it comes to an end, of the hardback thumping soft against the pages like the sound of a door closing. A train run its course.

Some are violent; unsatisfying; unfair. The unexpected shattering of an egg as it rolls off the countertop when nobody is looking, the unmistakable crack as it falls to the floor. It is abrupt and messy. 

But most are just… unremarkable. Unintentional. Clumsy. 

Danny’s family dies one night in late January. He is thirteen years old, barely a month away from fourteen. It is unforeseen. It is preventable. It happens. 

It happens like this: 

Their water heater breaks one Monday in January. It’s old, sitting in the garage, and has dealt with nearly sixteen years of Fenton-grade chaos and shenanigans. Of parents tossing scraps and junk into the garage as brief storage to come back to later. Of illegal tune-ups on their vehicles that result in something exploding. Of little children running around and knocking things over, playing with poles and sticks they find on the ground, on the shelves. Of being lived and used.  

Something had to give. 

Jack Fenton notices it immediately when he comes upstairs that very afternoon — his children at school, his wife downstairs — to grab something from the garage. The very same scrap and used material they store like squirrels to use later. 

He stops what he’s doing to fix it.  

It wasn’t supposed to be permanent. 

Despite what many believe, Jack Fenton is not the idiot people make him out to be. He knows what he’s good at, he knows what he’s not. He knows he can be passionate and obsessive and single-minded about things. He knows that he is a scientist, an inventor; an engineer. 

He knows that he is not a plumber. That fixing water heaters is not something he knows how to do, not safely. And he loves his family. What he does is only meant to be temporary — a fix meant to only last a few days until they can call someone in who can fix it for them. 

So Jack Fenton futzes with the water heater, gives it a temporary stitch to last a short while, and reminds himself to call a plumber later that day to come in and fix it. He turns and leaves the garage with the part he came for —  a sheet of metal for his wife to melt down — and disappears back downstairs. 

He does not make that call; it slips from his mind. 

It is not his fault. 

One day passes, then two, then suddenly it is Thursday. The water heater has still not been fixed, the water heater has been forgotten. It is nobody’s fault.  

Danny asks his parents at breakfast if he can stay over at Tucker’s house for the night. Just one night. They’re going to study for their math test and then play video games until midnight, but he only tells his parents that first half. 

He’s been doing well in school. Really well — better than he has in a while. There’s been a delightful lull in ghost appearances for the last few weeks. The living don’t know why, but Danny does. The Winter Truce always calms the dead down for a while, something about how the Zone cleanses itself twice a mortal year and that fresh wave of ecto clears out the old and brings in the new. 

This year Danny got to participate. He’s feeling the effects of it too, and he’s been sleeping consistently well for the first time since the accident. 

It’ll never happen again. 

His parents agree under the condition that he doesn’t stay up late, and Danny harmlessly lies through his teeth and agrees. He goes and throws overnight clothes into his school backpack, and when he leaves for school with Jazz his parents are already departed into the lab. 

The last conversation he has with his sister is in her car on the drive to school. Inane, mindless conversation to fill the air and pass the time. Jazz comments on how relaxed he’s been lately; Danny tells her about the Winter Truce. She listens in rapt attention. 

She tells him that she’s glad to see him so well-rested. She thinks her little brother’s been growing up too fast these days. She thinks he’s been too tense. Too caught up with the spinning of the world around him that he forgets about himself sometimes. 

When they reach school, before Danny can get out of the car, Jazz looks to her little brother and says; “I love you.” 

Her little brother’s cheeks turn an embarrassed shade of red. He makes a scrunched up, grossed-out face, but can’t hide the smile pulling across it. “Don’t be a sap, Jazz. I’ll see you later.” He tells her, yanking his hood up over his head. She hears the bashful, ‘love you too’ before he walks away. 

That is the last conversation she ever has with her brother. 

Thursday is unremarkable, passing by in its normality as it always does. There’s one, maybe two ghost sightings; shades lurking around in curious infancy that are easily spooked away by the presence of a greater being. Danny doesn’t even have to go ghost. 

Thursday evening is even less so. Danny goes to Tucker’s house — Sam has a prior arrangement with her slam poetry club — and the two of them study for an hour before they toss their textbooks aside and reach for the game console. 

Danny sleeps in Tucker’s room with one of the extra blankets on his bed, curled across the room in one of the bean bag chairs. It shouldn’t be comfortable, but to Danny it is. He sleeps throughout the night, the portal shut down by his parents before they’d gone to bed. 

Early Friday morning, before the sun has even risen yet, before it’s even so much as a concept to grace the horizon, the water heater breaks again. It was supposed to be fixed. 

Carbon monoxide is a silent killer. Odorless and scentless, it kills within minutes. It fills the house like a shadow casting over the ground, creeping into the rooms. 

Danny’s family die in their sleep; painless and unaware. 

It’s not Jack Fenton’s fault. He didn’t mean to.  

Nobody wakes up with their alarms. 

Danny wakes up to Tucker Foley’s alarm on Friday morning, and he turns his head intangible and shoves it into the beanbag chair like an ostrich hiding its head in the sand. Tucker gets up before him, and throws a pillow at him as he reaches for the alarm. 

There’s laughter, messing around. The both of them get dressed, and Danny has breakfast with the Foleys that morning. He takes the bus to school with Tucker, and they meet Sam by their lockers. 

To him, everything is as normal as it should be. There are no ghosts for him to fight right now, school is as school does, and he’s on top of all his schoolwork. 

He does not see Jazz at all that morning, he doesn’t notice. Their schedules are so different, their routes on different paths, that it’s not uncommon for Danny to not see Jazz until he gets home some days. That’s if there’s no ghost attacks. 

At lunch, he gets approached by her friends. Worried creases between their brows, they ask him if he’s seen Jazz. She hasn’t shown up to any of her classes. She’s not answering their texts. It’s unprecedented of her; unheard of. 

Danny doesn’t admit to the concern that swells in his gut when they tell him this. He shrugs at them, and says he hasn’t seen her either. But it was probably nothing to worry about; she might just be sick and sleeping it off. 

He offers to text her and let them know if he gets a response, and that seems to ease her friends enough that they shuffle away in uncertainty. He keeps his word, and does exactly that. He pulls out his phone and opens her contact, and shoots her a message.

‘Where are you?’ 

He doesn’t get a response back, Danny is left on sent. He puts his phone in his pocket, and with a sense of unease creeping in the back of his mind, goes on with his day. He gets no response by the time the final bell rings; and he tries not to be worried. 

The house is quiet when he opens the door. Unusually quiet. He drops his backpack to the floor, it lands with a hearty thunk, and begins to take off his jacket. “Mom! Dad!” He yells. He hangs it up, and slips his shoes from his feet. “Jazz skipped school today!”

A laughable untruth that would get his sister all riled up normally; she should be able to hear him from the front door if she was in her room. The house just stays dead silent. 

He can’t even hear the usual banging and crashing from the lab. His unease returns. He reaches for the intercom that leads directly down to the basement, and presses the button to turn it on. A burst of static, and then he speaks;

“Mom? Dad?” 

Danny lets go, and waits for a response. He gets none back. That never happens, not when the house is this quiet. Not when he knows they should’ve heard him. 

Something sickly and fearful borns in the pit of his stomach, and begins to snake upward. He heads for the lab. The cool metal of the door is familiar in the grooves of his hand, and he doesn’t even need to think about the code as he punches it in;  he simply lets muscle memory guide him. It’s been the same since he was little. 

The door hisses as the pressure is released, and he swings the door open. He takes the stairs down two at a time. Something is wrong. His parents aren’t answering him. His feet pound against the metal. 

“Mom? Dad?” He calls again, more worried, more frantic. More scared. His voice echoes down the stairwell, and he reaches the bottom before it’s fully faded. The lab is empty. The portal is still shut down. 

It was four in the afternoon, they should still be down here. 

Danny races back upstairs, fear-raised nausea coiling in his throat. “This isn’t funny you guys!” He yells when he reaches the top, shoving open the door with more force than necessary. His head swims, his voice cracked. 

He checks the garage, the car is still there. 

“Mom!? Dad!” His voice bellows out throughout the first floor, loud enough that it bounces back at him and rings against his ears. He’s never raised his voice this much — mom would scold him if she heard him. But she doesn’t show up. “Jazmine!” 

Finally, he goes upstairs, and he can’t tell if what he’s feeling is anger or terror. Something is very, very wrong. 

He swings the door of his parents’ rooms open first, and there they are, with the lights still off and the curtains still drawn. As if they hadn’t left their bed all day. Some of Danny’s fear lifts from his shoulders just by the sight of them, but he’s still trembling. Something is still wrong — the room smells… off. Not good, not bad. Just… off. 

He swallows dryly, his throat still thick, and steps into the room. “Mom, dad?” They do not stir. “Didn’t you guys hear me yelling?” 

There is only room static. Danny’s heart shrivels in his chest with a tenfold return of terror, he feels ill. He remembers, just now, that they’re not heavy sleepers, and his dad should be snoring like a freight house. 

Danny reaches their bedside in seconds, hand outstretching for the covers, “Momma? Dad?”

Not all deaths are created equal. 

But many of them are accidental. Unmeditated. Shocking.

Danny Fenton finds his family dead in his childhood home. He runs to his neighbors in hysterics, inconsolable, in tears. Nine-one-one is called, but there is nothing that can be done. They were dead for hours by the time Daniel Fenton returned home. 

He sits on the front steps of the neighbor’s house beside FentonWorks, his jeans slowly becoming wet from the snow that was unable to be scraped off, and watches the paramedics cart out his family beneath white sheets. There are police cars blocking off the street, yellow tape blocking off his house, red-blue lights lighting up the block, an ambulance on the scene. He is wrapped in a shock blanket, and he is missing his jacket and his shoes. His tears are freezing onto his face, he can’t feel the chill. 

Not all deaths are created equal

But all of them are unforgettable. 

[sunny44]

Old vs new

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x daughter

Warnings: none, just fluff

Summary: When Lewis is bored in his house and decide to do a instagram live with his daughter.

This is a request

It was a sunny afternoon and I was bored in the house, my wife was with her sister and I was at our house with my daughter who was doing something in her room and then I had the idea of doing an Instagram live witch is something I usually don’t do but since the fans lives Ava I thought it was a good ideia.

I called Ava saying to meet me in my trophies room and when I press the button to start the live, Ava entered the room and she sit in my lap and we immediately created a buzz as fans tuned in to witness our live.

"Hey everyone, I've got a very special lady here with me today," I said to the phone and Ava smiled and waved at everyone. "As you guys already now this is my daughter Ava. And she’s already in go kart to be the next Hamilton.”

Mia giggled, her eyes lighting up as she playfully jabbed, "Yeah, Dad, you're not as fast as you used to be. You're like, ancient in F1 years!"

The comment sparked laughter from Lewis and his audience. "Ancient, huh?" he responded, feigning shock. "Well, I might not be as young as I was when I started, but I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve!"

Ava’s eyes twinkled mischievously. "Oh, I've seen your tricks, Dad. I've also seen your old races on TV. Vintage stuff!"

The banter continued as they reminisced about Lewis's early days in racing. He recounted stories of his breakthrough races, while Mia giggled at the outdated racing gear he used to wear. "Hey, don't laugh too hard! Those suits were cutting-edge back then," Lewis protested, feigning offense.

Mia, her voice dripping with mock seriousness, quipped, "Yeah, sure they were, Dad. Just like those ancient cell phones you used!"

The playful teasing exchanged between father and daughter endeared them to their audience even more. Amidst the jokes, Lewis shared the valuable lessons he learned from his journey – the hard work, dedication, and resilience that drove him to become a champion.

"You know, Ava" Lewis began with a thoughtful expression, "racing isn't just about speed and trophies. It's about determination and pushing yourself beyond your limits. That's something you'll need to remember when you're the next Hamilton in F1."

Mia's eyes gleamed as she leaned closer to the camera. "Oh, I'll remember, Dad. And when I'm on that track, I'll make sure to remind everyone that the Hamilton legacy continues!"

Their connection was a beautiful blend of admiration and camaraderie. As the conversation flowed, Lewis turned the tables on Ava. "You know what, Ava? I think it's time for a challenge. How about we have a karting race this weekend? Old vs new!"

Ava's face lit up, excitement radiating from her. "You're on, Dad! Just remember, I've been practicing!"

As the live session drew to a close, Lewis shared his pride in his daughter's aspirations. "I'm not just her father, but also her biggest fan. If she chooses to step into the world of racing, I'll be there every step of the way."

The Instagram Live ended with promises of the upcoming karting showdown and a grateful farewell to the fans. Lewis and Ava had not only shared their love for racing but had given the world a glimpse into the genuine bond they shared – a bond that would undoubtedly continue to flourish as the next generation of the Hamilton legacy began to unfold.

[evermourning]

𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 - han jisung

pairing: han jisung x reader, lovertober entry viii

genre: fluff, comfort, non!idol au

wc: 8.9k

warnings: brother's best friend!han, language, mentions of alcohol, reader is OBLIVIOUS and jisung is WHIPPED, making out, gets very suggestive, getting caught, starts really fucking slow.

a/n: daylight. lover's final track. what a fitting way to end lovertober. thank you all so much for the immense support i received with this series...can't wait to see you for my next one!

p.s., i'm sorry about the length (i got carried away </3) and the delay (i have been so so so busy), please enjoy!

you'd known han jisung for a very, very long time.

you were ten years old. it was a sunny september afternoon, and you were sitting on the brick stairs of your childhood home, watching with annoyance as your stupid brother and his stupid friends played football in the front yard.

your brother minho, ever the athlete, was the quarterback, of course. he was yelling terms that were so foreign they sounded like another language as the scrimmage commenced. you were bored out of your mind.

that is, until one of his friends sat down beside you.

"hi. you're min's little sibling, right?" he asked. his knees were covered with scrapes and cuts, a bandage places hastily over his left one. he had fluffy black hair and two dark eyes you could get lost in if you looked for too long. he gave you an awkwardly adorable smile.

you nodded skeptically. minho's friends were usually up to no good.

"yeah. why?" you asked, and he giggled. it was cute.

"i always see you hanging around whenever i come over, so i just wanted to know. why do you sit on the step watching if you never play?" he asked, genuinely wanting to learn more about you.

"my mom wants us to get our exercise in, so she basically kicks us outta the house until it's dinnertime." you explained quietly. a little "oh" formed on the boy's lips. "what's your name, by the way?"

"jisung." he said playfully, extending a hand out to shake yours. "and you're yn, right? minho's always talking about you." as if he'd been listening in, minho appeared behind him in an instant.

"jisung, we're down a player. you can't just be chatting up yn like that." he rolled his eyes. after jisung muttered a string of insults beneath his breath, minho crouched down to your level. "if he starts nagging you again, come get me, okay? i'm your big brother. i've got to be looking out for you."

"he wasn't nagging me, though?" you said, confused. "we were just talking." minho sighed.

"okay...but i'm gonna keep an eye on him. i don't care if he's my best friend. he hurts you and he dies. violently."

being friends with lee minho meant ground rules were established. they were short and to the point, usually things about privacy and things people say and whatnot, but there was one main one, one he enforced the most.

yn is off limits. no exceptions.

to minho, the idea of any of his friends dating one of his family members was just so weird. he didn't really want any of them to hurt you and have to cut off a valuable friendship. so, he made it very clear to them that they frankly did not have a chance with you.

jisung was sure he did, though.

he knew his feelings for you were so wrong, and that minho would most likely gut him if he ever told him, so he bottled them up. for years and years. fighting urges to kiss you silly when he saw your outfit for prom, when he saw you in a swimsuit, anything. once he went away to college, however, he hoped that his feelings would simply melt away and he could move on from you.

how terribly wrong he was.

fast-forward to a decade later, he was now standing outside your front door, inhaling deeply. he knocked once or twice before minho excitedly opened the door.

"hey, jisung." he stepped aside so jisung could enter, smiling widely. "how's college going?"

your final years of high school were peaceful, yet lonely. minho and his friends had ventured off to different universities, leaving you to fend for yourself. jisung, namely going to some fine arts school where he was pursuing a career in music production.

jisung caught minho up on how life was going, expressing his dismay about being dumped as he slipped into the kitchen to grab a drink.

"i didn't think you'd be drinking this early, ji." minho teased. jisung laughed, taking a swig before offering it up to him. when minho shook his head, jisung chugged the rest of it with a chuckle. "oh, by the way, i've got something to tell you. don't be weird, but yn's coming home too. i think they'll be home...in an hour or so?"

jisung choked on his drink. so much for not being weird.

"there's no way." he muttered, resulting in minho raising an eyebrow. "i haven't seen yn in what- two years? three years? how...are they?"

minho smiled, almost slyly, checking his phone.

"you're about to see."

the front door opened, and you came in frantically, your face lighting up as you saw your older brother. you rushed over to him to give him a tight hug. when you turned your head slightly to see jisung, your face lighting up into a dazzling smile, jisung swore actual butterflies were flying around in his stomach.

you had gotten fucking hot.

somewhere along the line, you'd had some glow-up that turned you into something akin to a fallen angel. (actually, you'd always been gorgeous to jisung, he'd just noticed it more now).

"as i live and breathe, han jisung!" you beamed, hugging him tightly. jisung swore his cheeks were blooming red. you smelled like lavender and chamomile and he wanted to wake up and smell that every single day of his goddamn life. "you're so different, oh my gosh. you look amazing."

your jaw was honestly dropped at his transformation. he was lean, yet muscular, his body toned and tan. his hair was curly, a chocolatey brown color that complimented his eyes and skin tone so well. and when he looked at you, smiling, god...

"tell me all about it!" jisung said a bit too eagerly, leading you to the sofa to sit down with you. "how is university? have you made a lot of friends? what are you studying?"

his question made you remember a necessity.

"wait! thank you so much for reminding me, ji. i've gotta text my boyfriend and tell him i've gotten here safe." you smiled cheekily.

jisung saw red.

"i didn't realize...you were in a relationship." he said with gritted teeth. you nodded, a bit confused as to why the mood suddenly changed to something much tenser.

"yeah, um, it's not a super serious one, we've really only been together for like five months tops, but he's sweet." you said awkwardly. something about how jisung was staring so intently at you made you feel like you had to explain yourself.

"what's he like?" jisung asked indignantly. "uh, y'know, just in case i meet him...so i can...get along with him better."

he was not slick. how the hell did you not pick up on it?

he didn't know, because he breathed a raggedly sigh of relief as you laughed and began vividly describing your boyfriend, eliciting a grimace from jisung. god, this guy sounded fucking annoying.

"let's see...he's absolutely my type. he's adorable, kind, funny, caring, and hella talented. he's a great singer." jisung was a greater singer too. probably even better than this guy. he would crush him in karaoke. "but i wish he could play the guitar...that would make him so much more desirable to me."

jisung had a guitar in his trunk he was fighting demons not to go grab. it was the way your boyfriend sounded like a carbon copy of him that had him fuming. for fuck's sake, he was right here!

it was unfair, in jisung's eyes. once you'd admitted that your boyfriend had a very short temper and could be very controlling, he'd whipped his head around so his eyes could meet minho's. minho simply shook his head.

knock it off, he was saying.

how the fuck was this absolute douchebag able to date you but jisung wasn't? it was so fucking rigged.

your boyfriend wasn't even that handsome, either. he looked like any average twenty-something year-old guy. if anything, he had absolutely fucking nothing on jisung. jisung was the hottest guy he knew. a solid twelve out of ten. this guy was a four or less on a good day.

he reassured himself, remembering he had so many fucking weeks with you, without your boyfriend. his only problem, however, was not you or that guy you were fawning over. it was lee fucking minho.

twelve years and not a single ground rule changed. jisung was still not allowed to make any advances on you. therefore, he had to get better at being sneaky.

his first (and only) attempt to get you to break up with your boyfriend was on a wednesday. it was rainy, diminishing the possible activities you could do, so you opted to watch a movie with minho, jisung, and one of their other friends, chan.

it was some horror movie you couldn't stand one bit, jumpscares at every turn. you were flinching and hiding your face in jisung's shoulder. he wrapped a strong, comforting arm around you, to which minho gave him a look.

"hey, i got you. it's just a movie." he murmured softly into your ear. you giggled.

"ji, stop it. you're so cuddly, i have a boyfriend." you whispered, not to interrupt the movie. the words stabbed him in the throat.

"i know." he said quietly, drawing his hands back slightly. "but he's not here right now. you don't need to talk about him. you were talking just yesterday about how you were worried he didn't care for you. why are you still with him?"

"well...my friends are his friends...and we have so many memories that i'd hate to lose..." it was excuse after excuse. god. this guy had really fucked with you bad. maybe if your boyfriend ended things with you, you could learn to truly love someone, namely a super sexy and talented guy named han jisung.

"that's no reason to still be dating him. you could always try and end things on good terms and then-"

"jisung, enough." your voice was firm, implying this was the final time this conversation would be held. so much for trying. eh. he'd never been much of a negotiator in the first place, anyways. now, he just had to hope and pray and pray and pray for some amazing miracle.

four days later, it happened.

minho called jisung over to hang out. the day was rooted into his mind. they were laying on the sofa, one of the cats on minho and another in between jisung's legs, scrolling through social media. you were off in your room, on the phone with your boyfriend. the walls weren't super thin, so he couldn't really hear your conversation.

until the volume raised. louder and louder until you were full on yelling and jisung could hear every single sentence. every single word. every single vowel and consonant that left your lips. you were furious.

judging by the bits and pieces he was straining to hear as he acted disinterested, your boyfriend was pissed that being back in your hometown with all of your brother's friends meant that you were fucking them behind his back or something. you were on your last straw with his controlling attitude and you lost it.

"i'm so sick of you! we're done. don't fucking text me or call me." you snapped, hanging up and flinging your phone (jisung knew this because it made a loud crash, tumbling to the floor).

minho stood up awkwardly.

"i'm gonna, um, go check on them." jisung stumbled to his feet, scaring off the cats.

"i'll come with you, min. yn's close with me, too." minho wanted to say something, it was so obvious. but his mouth remained shut as they walked towards your room.

you were laying on your bed, crying. your eyes were red and the mountain of crumpled tissues upon your nightstand progressively grew and grew.

"honey," minho began, his voice soft. he only ever referred to you that way, gentle and caring. this, jisung knew all too well, was the very reason minho was so protective of you. minho had loved and cherished you since the day you were born, fighting off the monsters in the dark just to see you smile. it wasn't that minho wouldn't be able to forgive anyone who hurt you, he'd never be able to forgive himself.

and that in itself was his biggest fear. jisung was minho's closest friend and confidant. minho trusted jisung with his life. however, this also meant that accidentally hurting you would be seen as the greatest betrayal of his life.

you flopped over, staring at minho with red-rimmed eyes. he sighed, a sweet smile upon his seemingly cold features. you really brought out the best in him.

"i'm sorry about what happened. do you need me and ji to get you anything? something to eat or drink, a blanket, more tissues...or if you want to talk, i'll stay and listen." he sat down on the bed, and you sat up to scoot over and lean into minho, fitting with him like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

"is it raining outside? i wanna look at the stars. me and him used to do that and i want solace." you mumbled as minho rubbed your back. he turned to jisung, thinking for a split second.

"i'm going to start making you some dinner. a good meal will get your mind off of this. the hill outside is perfect for stargazing. jisung can go with you. come back when you're feeling hungry, okay?"

you nodded. jisung's heart skipped a beat. this would be his first time alone with you all break! a win was still a win, regardless of whether or not the situation was ideal.

and now, here he was, laying in the cool grass alongside you. you were moping.

"there are clouds everywhere! it's not worth it. of course the universe fucks with me on a day like today." you whined. jisung gave you a hug, cursing himself when you flinched. was he coming off too strong?

you were right, though. a thick layer of clouds completely covered the stars, painting the sky a drab dark gray. the only thing that could be seen was the bright reflection of the moon, shaped into a mere crescent.

you clung to him, creating a damp spot on his shirt with your tears. he wrapped his arms around you, letting you cry into his shoulder.

"it fucking sucks, ji. i'll never get to go on all the dates i planned with him. i-" your voice broke. he patted your back. "i had a list. a list of all the things i was gonna do with him. now who can i do them with?"

"you can do them with me!" he interjected, a bit too frantic for his own liking. when you looked at him weird, he had to come up with some quick excuse he'd pray you'd believe blindly. "not in any romantic sort of way, but if you want to do them, i'm right here. we have all the time in the world."

you really didn't.

you gave him a tired smile before hugging him tighter.

"you really would? that's so sweet. you're such a gentleman, jisung."

that night, he died and came back to life. and so, the most important mission of his life began.

mission: make yn fall in love with me and do it all without minho finding out was officially a go.

he was snapped out of his daze when minho opened the door to the back porch, signaling that dinner was ready. like the perfect brother he was, he'd cooked up three plates of your favorite meal. your eyes lit up at the plates neatly made and you finished it almost instantly. minho and jisung watched you as you slid the fork between your lips for two very different reasons.

the way minho looked at you was almost motherly, like he wanted to hide you under his wing and keep you safe, to protect you every step of the way. his heart was absolutely shattered seeing you so beaten up over your now ex-boyfriend. he should've known, he told himself again and again as he sliced the vegetables, he should've known that guy was bad news. he wanted to wrap you in a bone-crushing hug and spill words of remorse and sorrow from his heart-shaped lips, to apologize for not being there for you.

jisung wanted to kiss you until you were a flustered mess beneath him. he wanted to run his fingers through your hair and caress your soft cheeks. he would have to shake these thoughts off for his next week, a week filled with definitely-not-dates with you.

monday

you stared at yourself in the mirror, spinning a bit to see all of the angles of your outfit. you'd just recently bought this top and you were a little unsure about it.

ending things with your boyfriend had completely thrown off your schedule for your break. and here you were now, getting ready to go to an aquarium with someone you hadn't seen in years. a knock sounded on your door. it was soft, as if the echo was a question.

"come in," you said, a tinge of unsureness upon your tongue. the door slid open to reveal jisung, wearing a cute crewneck and baggy jeans. he began smiling widely once he saw your outfit.

"you look stunning. i- i don't even have any words to describe you, you look so lovely. like the first warm day of spring." you felt your cheeks heat up at his words. for somebody so energetic and funny, he certainly was eloquent. it was as if he had some magical control over words and syllables, combining and separating them until he'd made the perfect match.

"thank you so much, ji! you look amazing too." his outfit was simple yet stylish, the color palette blending incredibly with yours. jisung never went out of his way to put this much effort into an outfit. was there any reason? (spoiler alert: there was)

his cheeks flushed pink at your words, and he outstretched one hand for you to take.

"shall we go?"

you'd never really noticed his hands before. you'd never really needed to in the first place. but they were soft, as opposed to the small callous on his index finger, probably from writing lyrics and schoolwork all the time. his hands weren't huge, but they were larger than minho's. his nails were painted expertly and delicately in hues of navy blue.

"i didn't realize you still painted your nails." you murmured, and he looked up, laughing sheepishly. "i remember being so jealous that i could never paint mine like you did. that's why i always asked you to do mine for me."

"practice makes perfect, i'm afraid. but you can ask me anytime, and i'd drop whatever i'm doing to help you. just say the word and i'll be there in the blink of an eye." his declaration seemed a bit off for just helping you with your nails, but everybody expressed emotions differently, so you shrugged it off.

his hand was still outstretched, never once faltering, as if he knew at some point, no matter the journey, you'd take it. and you did.

the aquarium was somewhere you'd always wanted to go with your boyfriend. it held such nostalgia and beauty that you'd been dreaming of the day you could go there with someone you'd enjoy it with. you were happy it was the first idea on your bucket list, something to get your mind off of the miserable day before.

you honestly still couldn't believe you were doing this with han jisung himself, anyways. he was your brother's best friend, and he was way too cool for you. he'd seen you as a little sister his entire life. this idea of his was out of the care and concern of his heart in the utmost platonic way possible.

jisung, on the other hand, was trying not to trip over his own two feet as he held your hand, seeing the awe in your eyes. he squeezed your hand with excitement, hoping his hand wasn't sweaty or anything. oh god...what if it was? he told you he needed to "readjust" his hand before profusely wiping it on his jeans until he was certain it was drier than the gobi desert.

the aquarium was absolutely beautiful, in shades of blues and greens. all sorts of aquatic creatures reside behind walls of glass, swimming around without a care in the world. it was divine. you walked around with jisung, hand in hand, pointing out various sea creatures. he seemed especially taken by the sharks, excitedly swiveling his head between you and the tank whenever they swam by.

eventually, you made your way to a room in the back of the aquarium, a large rounded glass tank in front of you. the lights had been dimmed to a midnight blue, letting the pale moon jellies show themselves. they languidly floated around, a dazzling sight. they were like clouds of the sea.

a wooden bench with a black leather cushion was positioned next to one of the tanks, and you and jisung sat down to rest your feet, weary from all the standing. he was looking through his camera roll at the photos he took.

you smiled at the little things he does. you'd been noticing them much more recently. the way his lips stretched into a crooked grin when he saw something he liked, the way he pouted if a picture came out bad or too blurry. it was endearing.

but it was also odd. the last time you'd been able to identify such minuscule details about jisung was when you were fourteen years old and had the fattest crush on him known to man.

you pined over him for a good seven months, making all sorts of excuses to hang out with minho and his group of friends. most of the time, his answer was a solid no. but sometimes, when he'd sigh and say "yes, but be good", you'd try and have all sorts of conversations with him. you loved his enthusiasm and interest as you spoke, as if he was hanging onto every word.

eventually, you came to the conclusion that he saw only ever you as minho's annoying kid sibling and was only being nice to humor you. you'd laid in bed, crying into your pillow, face warm from guilt and humiliation. from that day forward, you were always wary of men. you were scared that they wouldn't like you if you were too forward.

it was incredibly foolish, you realized. you'd based this claim off of absolutely nothing at all. you'd assumed jisung didn't like you. but there was no way he did, you were a hyper and silly kid and he was a teenager focusing on sports and whatever guys did.

"hey," he said, snapping you out of your walk down memory lane. a small smile graced his pretty face. "wanna take a picture with me and the jellyfish? we can make them into matching polaroids. i know you wanted to take polaroids with your boyfriend as a like- a couple idea, so we could be killing two birds with one stone?"

it was a great idea. you scooted closer to him, and he leaned in. jisung wrapped an arm around your waist, and you softly gasped at his gentle contact.

"say cheese!" he smiled brightly and you did along with him. you didn't think you'd be smiling like this the day after ending a months-long relationship. and yet, it felt like some enormous weight was lifted off your heart. you felt...free. and happy. really happy that you were experiencing this with han jisung, out of anyone.

you were so caught up in this inexplicable feeling of joy you didn't notice the pretty pink colour on jisung's round cheeks, or how he was staring at you the entire time.

tuesday

"have you seriously never been to a drive-in movie? not once in your life?" jisung asked in shock, from where he was leaning against your doorframe. he held your list in his hand, scanning it up and down. "they're holding one tonight. guess what they're playing?"

you thought to yourself.

"hmm...some cheesy-ass movie from the 80s?" you guessed, eliciting a chuckle from jisung's lips. you'd spent the entirety of your time "sleeping" and thinking about them. he'd been plaguing your mind all day- not that you minded, though.

"close enough. they're playing grease. that's from...1978, i think?"

you sighed, getting up to run a hairbrush through your messy hair. you couldn't go out looking like shit. that would be horrid.

"is it really?" at his nod, you giggled. "damn. i thought it was the 80s. i can't really make that assumption, though. i've never seen it in my life."

the way jisung's jaw dropped to the floor was so comical it was almost cartoonlike.

"what the actual hell. you've never seen grease?" his expression was stony, and for a second you were scared you offended him. then, you remembered it was jisung, who was rarely ever serious. "get your things and get in my car. we're going right now. you cannot go another second without seeing grease."

so here you were, in the passenger seat of jisung's sleek black convertible. he was driving well, focused on the road. at one point, his hand absentmindedly drifted over to rest upon your thigh. you felt your cheeks begin to heat up. when jisung became aware of the placement of his hand, he retracted his hand in a flash, apologizing profusely. his face was beet red. it was adorable. you grabbed his hand and put it back on your thigh, much to his astonishment.

"it's okay. i don't mind." you murmured softly. "you're not hurting anyone with your hand there. and the physical contact feels nice. the warmth of your palm on my freezing leg is enough for me. makes me feel human."

jisung absolutely melted at your soft words. now this, this funny feeling in his stomach which only surfaced around you, that he yearned for day after day while he was away at university, was exactly what he craved.

if he really did succeed in making you fall for him, how would it go? he'd done some digging, and your university was only a half an hour or so away from his. he could imagine it now, so vividly it was almost a film playing in his brain on repeat. he could text you sweet messages like "good luck!" or "how was your day?" and if he felt like it, he could come see you.

he would be the best boyfriend ever. way better than that dickhead guy.

he pulled into the drive-in theater, where an assorted group of cars where already there. various people had already settled in and were watching the beginning of the movie. few families were there, but most of them were people on dates.

"do you want to get out of the car? i have a picnic blanket my roommate from university lent to me that i'll gladly lay out on the grass, if that's what makes you comfortable." jisung suggested, pulling out a patterned grey blanket from the back seat. "i'm okay with whatever you want."

"let's sit on the grass. we're on a hilly area, so we'll still have a good vantage point. and besides, from up here, you can sing your heart out."

"we can sing our hearts out." he corrected. "don't think you're getting out of this one easy, hun. be happy i'm not forcing you to learn the entire 'greased lightning' dance."

you'd always liked funny guys.

the movie began, the plot exactly how you imagined it. however, it was actually really good, with fun choreography and surprisingly good songs. jisung knew every word, an imaginary microphone magically appearing in his hand the minute he heard the first few beats of a song.

it was so fun. he'd pass the "microphone" to you, staring at you in awe when your lips parted and you began singing the melody, soft and sheepish from embarrassment. your voice was heavenly. like the song of a siren, the way you hit every note with talent and poise and then proceeded to giggle it off saying "you weren't as good as him" was absolutely insane.

at some point, you had become so incredibly engrossed in the movie. rizzo was walking through the school, singing her heart out and it was so powerful you didn't even notice the wide expanse of goosebumps covering your body.

"oh my goodness, you're shivering." jisung noticed with urgency, and you peeled your eyes away from the screen. now that your focus was no longer on the movie, you felt the chill begin to overtake you. you snuggled into jisung, trying to capitalize on the heat leaving his body.

"you're right, i didn't even notice..." you gasped slightly, your teeth chattering. jisung pulled off his coat and gave it to you.

"here, put that on." he said, getting up to grab something else from his car. what was he hiding in there?

"won't you be cold without your coat, ji?" you asked with concern. he was wearing grey sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt that wasn't made of any warm material in the slightest. he grinned, pulling out a fluffier blanket and wrapping it around the both of you.

"not anymore." he moved in closer until you felt your body against his. it was almost therapeutic. your head fell onto his shoulder, eliciting a tiny gasp from jisung's adorable lips.

the drive home was anything but silent as you excitedly rambled about the movie, explaining your favorite parts to a quietly satisfied jisung. he loved listening to you talk about things that made you happy. the way your hands moved to match your words with fluidity, the way your voice became higher with some foreign excitement. it was just like how you were when you were little.

"what are you smiling about?" you teased, noticing his adorably rosy cheeks in the pale moonlight.

"i'm sorry...i just absolutely adore listening to you talk about things you're passionate about. it's so endearing." he admitted, immediately focusing his eyesight towards the road ahead as to not see a reaction he'd be disappointed by.

if he'd just looked with his periphery, he would've noticed the flustered mess you'd become with a single response.

that night, you laid in bed, thinking long and hard about your relationship. these endeavors with jisung were exactly what you'd wished for time after time with your ex, only for him to fall short.

wait.

now that you were spending time with him again, you'd come to a conclusion. han jisung and your ex-boyfriend were uncomfortably similar, with their clothing and hair styles, their mannerisms, and their personalities. it didn't give you uncomfortable flashbacks in the slightest. in fact, you came to a massive conclusion.

you'd never gotten over jisung.

that was why you'd dated someone so similar. and you were still just as hopelessly in love with him as you were when you were a teenager.

oh shit.

saturday

you were in too deep.

every single date with jisung, you fell more and more in love with him. with his smile, his laugh, his gorgeous eyes, his caring nature, every single thing about him.

with every touch he placed on your skin, light as a feather, you felt yourself tread further and further past the point of no return. you couldn't stand it. you were running out of opportunities to confess.

what if you never saw him again after this? the next time you'd see him would probably be his graduation, and by then he might be in a relationship with someone. not a good one, because you'd come to the conclusion that nobody loved jisung like you did. even when you felt like you didn't, some core part of you kept that.

you loved passionately, most of the time confidentially. you kept your crushes to yourself. but if you had determined that you quite literally could not live without him, now that you'd grown so accustomed to seeing him every day.

you were in your sleep clothes, an oversized hoodie that was a hand-me-down from minho and flannel pajama pants when minho knocked on your door.

"good morning." he said softly, smiling at you. he held dori in his arms. "i made us breakfast. care to join me?" you loved weekends when you were with your brother.

your parents were always busy, so you'd really been raised by minho. he worked as a dance teacher outside of his studies, working late nights at the studio just to provide for the two of you. you loved your brother, to the moon and back.

you sat at the table, eating breakfast, contentedly listening to him talk about how his students were progressing nicely. you were so busy trying to get a piece of a scrambled egg onto your fork you almost didn't hear him pop the big question.

"so, um...jisung has been coming over a lot recently. care to enlighten me as to why?" he asked, almost nervously. "he's my best friend, yet he's coming over for you, and you're hanging out with him what- every night? i'm not mad at you or anything. i just wanna know the truth."

you sighed. you were much too embarrassed to admit you had any sort of feelings for jisung. it wouldn't hurt if you didn't lie...rather...skirted around the central idea, would it?

"he's been helping me cope with my breakup. i love you and i know i can tell you literally anything, but there's just something different about telling your story to a friend. you already know it, min."

minho probably did not believe your sob story one bit. however, if he didn't, he clearly didn't show it, because his lips parted to release a soft "ohhh."

"i get it. thanks for being honest." his words sent a pang directly to your heart. you hated lying to your brother. but, you were going over to jisung's house tonight and you had to make sure there was no suspicion on minho's part.

after a strenuous hour of getting ready, you were finally prepared. you took a deep breath, knocking on jisung's door. his family home was in your neighborhood, luckily, so you could just walk.

he opened the door, his eyes warmed at the sight of you.

"you've done it this time. you're the most gorgeous person i know. there's no competition. i know you're just in casual clothes, but damn." his mouth was agape, and he looked you up and down. you laughed at his words, trying to avoid the fact that your face was burning from his simple compliments. "i'm rambling, oh my god. let's go inside."

he stepped aside so you could enter. you'd always loved his house. his parents were very fond of interior design, so it was so architecturally beautiful it made you smile. the couches, walls, paintings, and doors were all color coordinated. once jisung led you through the door to his room, your lips stretched into an even wider grin.

it was so...him. rock band posters were plastered everywhere, and it was organized and minimalistic. he had a computer and some producer supplies, and in the corner of the room sat a gorgeous acoustic guitar.

"wow, it's so beautiful!" you said in awe, running a hand down the smooth wood. "i've always wanted to learn how to play. can you play some songs for me?"

he nodded, pulling the guitar off its stand.

"let me tune it real quick, and then we're good to go. any song recommendations?" he asked as he began tuning the instrument. his fingers moved swiftly, expertly. he bit his lip in concentration. "sad songs? love songs?"

"a love song would be nice. you can choose one." you responded, coming over to sit beside him. he thought for a bit, before beginning to strum a lovely chord progression. the song was on the tip of your tongue, and once he started singing, you were in for it.

i found a love, for me...darling just dive right in, and follow my lead

it was perfect. of course it fucking was. you felt your stomach flip with delight, playing into some hopeless fantasy that he was singing it for you. that he was playing the guitar so beautifully, trying to convey a message.

i found a girl, beautiful and sweet...oh, i never knew you were the someone waiting for me

you inched closer. his eyes were focused on yours, and he sang with a smile, never missing a beat.

'cause we were just kids when we fell in love, not knowing what it was

was he singing it to you? was he telling you to your face that he loved you, or were you just delusional?

but darling just kiss me slow, your heart is all i own, and in your eyes, you're holding mine

you couldn't do it anymore. he had to know. you couldn't hide it anymore.

"jisung, stop." you said shakily, and he obliged.

"what is it?" he asked, concerned. had he done something wrong? he would admit, he was carried away with his serenade because all of his feelings were so fucking real, but if he was making you uncomfortable, he'd stop instantly.

better now than never.

"um, this is gonna sound really weird, and you have every right to say no or tell me to get out..." you were rambling, and jisung was silent with an unreadable expression. "i have, like, really strong feelings for you. and it didn't just happen. i loved you when i was little and i love you now, i just stuffed these thoughts away to the back of my mind. if you think about it, my ex was just a cheap copy of you."

jisung wasn't talking. he was just staring at you with his jaw dropped.

oh shit. you fucked everything up. over a decade of friendship. ruined.

"it's okay, i'll just go, i'm so sorry...it's obvious you don't like me back." you said, humiliated. as you went to leave, you felt jisung's hand wrap around your wrist.

"did you just say i don't like you back?" jisung murmured in disbelief, shaking his head. "oh my god. you are so fucking oblivious."

you cocked your head.

"what?"

he led you to sit on the bed next to him, his skin flush against yours.

"how have you not realized i've been head over heels in love with you since we were in grade school?" he sighed. "i never pursued you because min doesn't let any of his friends date you. but i thought of you every day while i was at university. i dreamed of you when my brain was too tired to think. i dated here and there but i was a horrible, horrible boyfriend because i never wanted them. i wanted you. but you never noticed me pining over you. does that make sense?"

you nodded, fighting the tears of joy threatening to fall from your eyes. you reached a gentle hand towards jisung's, and he enveloped your hand in his, holding it tightly.

"can i...kiss you?" he asked softly, waiting for your permission. you nodded, your heart racing as he leaned in. his thumb brushed against your cheek as his lips met yours in a gentle kiss ten years overdue.

it was sweet, laced with a quiet passion that grew as he kissed you again and again. it was so lovely, almost as if fireworks were shooting off in the distance.

when he finally pulled away, his hand rested on your hip and he was breathing a little heavier, staring at you with a twinkle in his molten chocolate eyes.

"will you grant me the immeasurable honor of being mine? no lies and no miscommunication this time. i promise." he held out his pinkie, and you giggled as you curled yours around his.

"you've got yourself a promise, ji." you replied, bursting with delight.

a realization dawned on jisung. he hadn't even brought minho into the equation.

"one problem. minho wouldn't be happy with me if he found out about this. he's told his friends and i it for years- you're off-limits. but now...i just broke his rule. we're gonna have to sneak around behind his back..."

you patted your boyfriend's shoulder. god, it felt divine being able to say that.

"it's okay. he won't catch us." you laughed softly, giving jisung a hug, solidifying your love in stone.

thursday

you'd almost been dating jisung for two weeks! this was an achievement for you, because every single day you were with him felt like you were drifting away on a fluffy cloud of ecstasy. he made you unfathomably happy.

so far, hiding your relationship from minho was going surprisingly well. to try and throw him off of your trail, the three of you started going out more when minho didn't have work. you'd also convinced jisung to prioritize minho's texts and hangouts for the time being.

it was a lot easier said than done, though. minho was observant and cautious, picking up on any unusual signs and forcing you to come up with lies on the spot. he'd look skeptical, but not push the question, thankfully. however, some gut feeling told you he'd find out any day now.

how would he find out? you asked yourself. would he see you two in public from a distance? would a friend inform him? would he find out accidentally? it was a scary thought.

one night, you were laying on your bed, reading some book your mother had recommended to you. it was an amazing book, filled with intrigue and plot twists that left you reeling and begging for more. in between your legs, resting his head on your chest, was jisung.

you'd learned from him being your boyfriend that he was a total sucker for physical touch. like a koala, he was always clinging to you by any means possible.

"baby..." he whined, flipping over to rest his chin on your tummy. "what's in that book that could possibly be more important than me?"

"someone just got murdered, ji. they're trying to figure it out." you replied ignorantly, eliciting a whine from jisung. you giggled, reaching a hand down to entangle your fingers in his dark curls. he sighed dreamily as you massaged his scalp.

"boring, boring, boring." he muttered, grabbing your book out of your hands and placing it neatly onto the nightstand. "shit. how should i save your page?"

"there's a bookmark in the book! use it! han jisung, if you doggy-ear that page, i will fuck you up." you laughed loudly.

thankfully, tonight you had zero worries about minho catching you and jisung. he was working out with chan and then he had an hour and a half teaching private lessons for one of his students. he wouldn't be home until at least 8:45pm, and since it was like 6:30 you could probably sneak jisung out by 8:20pm and get a twenty-five minute grace period to make it look like nobody had been over. life was good.

all of a sudden, jisung gave you a devilish grin, and positioned himself so he could easily climb on top of you.

"ji, what are you doing?" you asked with a chuckle, reaching up to caress his soft face.

"givin' you lots of kisses, duh." he leaned down to brush his soft lips against yours, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. the kiss grew more and more heated in a blink of an eye. it happened so fast. one second he was giving you gentle kisses, like the touch of a fairy, and the next his tongue was in your mouth dancing with yours.

he pulled away after a very long makeout session, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his raw, swollen ones. he licked them with a smile, and shifted a bit so he could lean down and press wet, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, shoulders, and collarbone. you almost groaned at the sensation, but covered your mouth with one hand. jisung giggled at this.

"you don't need to hide those pretty noises, babe. nobody can hear us. we're alone." he snickered, before resuming his work kissing and sucking on your neck until your skin was littered with baby bruises the color of cherries. thankfully, jisung wasn't an idiot, so he only left marks in places you could easily cover with concealer or hide with your shirt.

to him, you were ethereal in this position, pressed into your bed. lips raw and parted in an "o" shape, hair splayed out in a halo around you, your chest heaving.

"you look debauched in the loveliest way possible, gorgeous." he grinned, his fingers now reaching down to the buttons of your shirt. "don't you feel embarrassed at all? i'm literally going down on you on your childhood bed."

you laughed breathily.

"shut up and kiss me again."

your response was cut short. you would have said something more, something almost provocative, if your door didn't open abruptly.

"hi, honey. i'm home early. my student was sick, so i'm gonna get started on dinner-" the scene was almost comical. you and jisung both turned your heads in slow motion to see minho standing there, a grocery bag in his hand and shock upon his face. "jisung. get the fuck off of them or i'll snap your neck."

jisung shot upright, cheeks beet red as he helped you up. minho noticed the marks on your skin instantly. he looked furious. you'd never seen your brother this way, ever.

"we have been friends for what- fourteen years? and what has been the recurring thing i have told you, time and time again?" minho hissed. jisung hung his head in shame.

"you said yn is off limits." he murmured. he slowly lifted his head to meet minho's eyes, searching for the tiniest speck of sympathy, but there was none there. "look- i can explain."

"what is there to explain, jisung?" minho snapped. "'oh, i always want what i can't have, so i'm gonna defile my best friend's sibling behind his back.'"

"min, that's not what happened." you tried. no luck. "i confessed to him first. if anything, it was me. not him. don't take this out on him just because you won't take it out on me."

"don't even say anything. i don't want to hear a single word out of you. everything i do is to protect you! i've looked out for you our entire lives. i...i love you immensely and endlessly, yn. that much is true. but i can't allow this. i wouldn't want to lose jisung because of something you did or something he did to you. and i wouldn't want to lose you because you're so hurt by someone like him." minho's voice broke. he was done. he sighed, and stormed off.

you turned to stare at jisung.

"i, um, think you should go." you murmured, wrapping your arms around him and kissing his cheek. his toned arms made their way around your waist, and he hugged you tightly.

"okay. text or call me if you need anything. let's figure this out tomorrow."

you were with jisung. you loved him so much. but what was the cost of loving him?

friday

minho wouldn't speak to you.

he left for chan's before you woke up, sending you a brief text telling you where he was. you opened the fridge to see a plate stowed aside for you, a sticky note with your name on it on top. huh. even though he was mad, he still went out of his way to make breakfast for you.

you knew you were in the wrong. it wasn't okay of you to sneak around behind minho's back, but if he was too petty to talk to you, then it'd be hopeless.

after eating, you called jisung. he picked up on the first ring, like he always did whenever you called.

"minho won't text me back. he's leaving me on read. god, he's petty when he's mad." his voice sounded a bit gravelly, meaning he'd probably just woken up. you hoped your call didn't serve as an alarm for him.

"i feel bad, ji." you murmured, flopping down onto the couch. the cats sensed your discomfort and padded over to you, rubbing against your legs and purring to try and get you to relax. "i know he would've been mad either way, but do you think he would've been less of a dickhead if we'd just been up front about it?"

"i guess. i'm embarrassed i suggested we keep it a secret. but what's past is past. now, we've got to figure something out. i love you, but he's my best friend of fourteen years. and i love him, but i've been madly in love with you since i was a kid. i don't want to lose either of you."

you smiled fondly at his sweet words. sometimes, he always knew the right thing to say to put you at ease.

"when he gets home, i'm going to talk to him. i'll text you how it goes." as you were saying this, the front door opened and he stood there, looking at you with a cold expression. you wanted to cry. "speak of the devil, he just got home. i love you, bye." you hung up, feeling absolutely powerless. but you weren't defeated yet. you still had your words.

"min," you began. "now that we've blown off some steam since last night, can we talk? jisung and i care so much about you, and neither of us want to lose you."

you followed him to his room, where you sat down on the bed beside him. he was not too enthusiastic.

"well, you shouldn't have jeopardized that by fucking my best friend." minho replied solemnly. you were infuriated.

"i haven't fucked him at all, min. don't jump to conclusions. besides, we haven't even been dating for two weeks. see, the reason we were hanging out so much is because he was helping me with a this sort of- bucket list that i had, of date ideas. and i didn't get the chance to do them with my ex, so i did them with him." you explained. minho was listening, thankfully. "and then, i realized i had feelings deep down for him i'd been harboring since i was younger. and i couldn't keep them in anymore, so i told him. and he told me he'd been in love with me since i met him."

minho nodded, his eyes still untrustworthy.

"okay. how much do you love him?" he asked.

"i love him so much it hurts to see this happening. you're his best friend and he's suffering without you. he was texting me, complaining all night. and no, i know what you're going to ask. i don't love him more than you. romantic love and familial love are on two very different ends of the spectrum."

minho was silent for a moment, reaching out to take your hand.

"i'm sorry for acting this way. i'm sorry for punishing you with silence. i've watched you grow up from a little kid with big round cheeks to the successful, loving person you are today. when you broke up with your last boyfriend, it took everything in me not to go fucking kill the guy for breaking your heart. but this, this is different. jisung is my best friend. i love him so much, and i don't know what i'd do with myself if he ever hurt you. if anybody i cared about hurt you." you gave your brother a tight hug, and he wrapped you in his arms.

"i understand. but we both know jisung isn't that kind of person."

"and you," minho whispered, and you barely caught it. "will you promise not to break his heart? i'll...i'll think about getting behind this if you do."

"i promise. i swear on my life."

that night, you lay in the grass once more with jisung, staring up at the stars. his arm was wrapped tightly around you as you pointed out various constellations with a jubilant look upon your face. god, you were adorable. he rolled you over slightly so he could press a loving kiss to your lips.

the sky was clear, the clouds pushed away to reveal an angelic array of twinkling lights, set against an ebony blackdrop.

"you can see the stars tonight." you whispered gleefully. jisung laughed.

"you can, can't you? they're really beautiful. just like you said. just being here with you brings me eternal solace." he brought your hand to his lips and softly kissed each of your knuckles. "i love you, to the moon and to saturn."

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@evermourning, ©2023. all rights reserved.

[matcha-dango]

Return of the Spring

Yan!Itto x F!Reader [NSFW]

CW : yandere themes / smut / noncon / porn with plot / breeding kink / size kink / childhood friends to lovers / dom character x sub reader

Word Count : 5513

For thousands of years, humans warned their children about Onis and how dangerous they were. As soon as they could walk, their parents taught them not to leave the village alone, not to go into the nearby forest without an armed adult and most importantly, to never talk to one if they ever saw an Oni in the distance. Unfortunately, with the passage of time, people forgot what Onis looked like and each generation changed a detail here and there. 

Ironically enough, this was how you befriended a young and energetic Oni, who madly fell in love with you at first glance. 

From time to time, you remember fondly how you two met, when you were kids and kept hanging out in secret. You always wondered if things would have been different, if you knew from the start that Itto was the “dangerous predator” everyone warned you about. It was only when you noticed his little red horn that you understood who you were being so close to and panic filled your chest, but you grew quite confused when Itto apologised for being, himself ? If he was so bad, why did he do that ? You figured out that maybe Onis weren’t that bad and that they could be friends with humans, just like the two of you. 

Nearly a decade passed ever since and you remained good friends, in secret of course. You became the grown up who was responsible for groups of kids when going a bit further past the village, to gather herbs, berries and such. One day, as you went out together, you noticed bits of Sakura Bloom gathered in the air, a magical view letting you know spring was back once more. But also a reminder that you had to herd the group back home earlier than usual. 

Back within sight of the village, you noticed some villagers putting up stronger barricades, a more depressing spring view. You knew of stories of your ancestors’ piers abducted by Onis, you wouldn’t doubt the elders. But was it all that necessary ? Couldn’t peace be finally made ? You decided to talk to the village chief as soon as you delivered your basket. 

“Good afternoon mam. I hope you have been well.”

“I have indeed, thank you for asking, my child. But I feel that you have a reason for your visit though, other than small chit chat.”

“Pardon me for my ignorance, but I have something very important to discuss.”

“What could possibly be so important, that you would come here directly, instead of preparing your house for the night ?”

“Well, I was wondering if there was any reason why we had to do all of this and-”

“And make peace with the demons ? My child, you do not understand.You must be out of your mind, go rest.”

“No, I am serious. I am sure that we can coexist and even live together. It is not impossible and there must be valuable benefits for both sides if we all cooperated. We don’t have to do this every year instead of enjoying the seasonal changes.”

“It seems that your parents failed to educate you my child, I will not blame you for your unconscious behaviour. For others, spring is a beautiful thing that brings life and joy to those stopping for an instant to admire the sky and trees. But not for us. As soon as snow starts melting and shows the green grass underneath it, as soon as flowers start to bloom, we need to set up spikes and barricades, we need to arm our men. I can see doubt and incomprehension in your eyes, you think we act like war happens every spring. But it does, my child.”

You didn’t want to lie to the village chief, but you didn’t want to be rude either. You believed your parents raised you well, you’ve only been told off several times during childhood for running around or other childlike harmless acts. Why would she accuse your family of such irresponsibility ? 

“You see, our village has been lucky these past decades. We didn’t lose anyone in those years and it has been only thanks to all of our security measures. The same cannot be said about the other villages, you were there last year, when I announced the loss of three young women who were your age. They left their village to gather Sakura Blooms to make Sakura Mochi but they never came back. We do not live in the city, where we can eat anything at any time. This is the only way.”

“I understand. Thank you for your time and wise words. Please allow me to take my leave.”

“You go, my child. Never forget that we are not meant to be together, ever.”

Leaving with a heavy heart, you couldn’t help but feel guilty towards the three girls, who you actually met last year for the local summer festival. You always told yourself that if Onis were truly the ones to take them, those three weren’t eaten or killed. Though you didn’t really want to know what else could happen to them if it’s not those two possibilities. Chances are, it wasn’t even Onis but ill-willed humans. 

It was getting dark already, you had to quickly get back home before you would get scolded for lateness. The village looked grim, even under the beautiful red and orange sky. Tints of a familiar red, reminding you of your friend. At that point, there was no way you could reveal your friendship to anyone ever. Was it also the case for him ? Maybe Onis too had been warning their kind to never approach human dwellings during this season ? You should ask him that next time. 

Thankfully, spring wasn’t all depression and desolation. You loved seasonal changes for the delicious new meals that you could eat only then and there. Usually, Unagi Chazuke would be eaten just the way it was, but plums being now ripe, you always added pickled plum to the dish. This year also, your parents told you they ordered a small bag of Sakura Blooms, so you could make sweets and snacks just like in the city. You simply couldn’t wait for the package to be delivered. Hopefully tomorrow ! 

After eating dinner, you washed yourself and decided to read a recipe book, in case you were missing needed ingredients. It would be such a bummer if you got everything ready but one crucial detail. Maybe you could make Sakura Taiyaki and share them with your friends and family, and Itto… Right as you were about to start missing him, you heard the sound of small rocks hitting your window. Two exactly, which was the code you and Itto had, when he wanted you to know he left you a message close to your house. 

Excitedly, you responded to his signal by shutting the lights of your room twice and pretended to go to sleep. You had to wait until your family was asleep before you could sneak out and retrieve whatever Itto left for you. You didn’t think you could chat with him this time though, no way you could leave the village with all the protection they set up for the night. 

Soon enough, silence filled the house, making your heart beat louder and louder with each second passing. Once you felt you had the right timing, you quietly got up and went out of your room to reach the door. You should have thought about that one, it was locked and barricaded, just like all windows of the ground floor. Your only option was to leave through your window. 

You climbed the stairs back up, as discreetly as you could manage. Back to step one, you had to think of a way to flee without breaking your bones. After mentally debating for minutes, you decided to jump out to catch the sturdy branches of the tree in front of your window and then climb down to safety. You kind of had no choice, if you didn’t want to risk someone else finding Itto’s message. 

Under your window, you placed several pillows, covers and your bed so that you wouldn’t hit the ground when you would leap back inside. You were agile enough to make it, if not… You would need to think of your best excuse for being outside at this hour. Anything was good, as long as no one knew about Itto. 

You prepared yourself to jump, one swing back and forth and you did it. Everything went well and your feet touched the ground. This tree was such a life saver, literally. You quickly ran towards the usual spot behind your house and found a folded piece of paper. You opened it and read its words. 

‘hope you been doing good !! its been a while since we last hang out, wanna come out tomorrow ? promise ill be careful ! ill wait for you at the usual super duper secret spot, at our usual super duper secret time !!!!’

You couldn't help but giggle at his message, it was very cute and very much Itto-like. Of course, you knew and remembered everything. You actually had various secret meeting places : secret, super secret and super duper secret were all different ! Same went for time, you two discussed them and decided on a few in accordance with the village activities schedule, so no one would be suspicious of you wanting to suddenly leave. 

You hurriedly went back to the tree and safely jumped on your mattress. The adrenaline in your veins did a really good job. You were so excited for tomorrow, you prayed for the Sakura Blooms to arrive before you had to leave the village. 

Morning birds woke you up with their beautiful melodies. You sluggishly sat up, before remembering your plans for today. Getting an immediate boost of energy, you got downstairs to check for any package and there it was, on the table. You eagerly opened it and it was indeed a bag full of freshly gathered Sakura Blooms. You took out the piece of paper with ingredients needed for a semi-dozen of Sakura Taiyaki and started baking the delicious snack. 

As planned, you volunteered to go venture into the forest with a group of youngsters. You hid the still piping hot sweets in your basket under a piece of fabric, if anyone were to ask you’d say it was in case anyone got hungry during the short trip. If they didn’t believe you, they would think you had a crush on someone from the team. No one would ever suspect you of being friendly acquainted with an Oni anyway. 

You chatted with the group while walking on the clear path and reached the area where you were supposed to find mushrooms. Slowly, you detached yourself from the rest and as soon as no one was paying attention, you quietly ran off to the super duper secret place. 

As you got closer and further down the forbidden parts of the woods, you could make out a very tall figure, with white and reddish hair. Surely, it had to be Itto. And as you approached the person, you could actually hear loud and cheerful chattering. Yep, no mistake, it was 100% your one and oni friend. 

“Hey I’m here !” 

Your bright voice got his attention and the happiest he was when he saw your smiley face. 

“I’m so glad you got here ! And it smells good too !! Did you make something ?”

“I sure did ! We received some Sakura Blooms so I baked us Sakura Taiyaki, you remember when we talked about it and how delicious it must be ??”

“You’re amazing ! Can we eat them now ?!”

“Sure ! Let’s sit around here and eat while chatting, it’s been such a while !”

As soon as you revealed the insides of your basked, Itto grabbed one Taiyaki and bit into it like a starved man. It was so good he had to let you know with his most dramatic reaction, including fake tears and theatrical gestures, which always made you chuckle. Nonetheless, you knew he was sincere in his praise, which made you feel proud of yourself. 

You two kept chatting, catching up and just talking about everything and anything, without any care. However, it made you feel almost heartbroken that you would have to leave and go back to the group sooner or later. No one made you feel so understood and appreciated the way Itto did. Almost as if you weren’t as human as everybody else. 

“Hey, you look kinda sad… You ok there ?”

You could see the genuine worry in Itto’s eyes, which made you smile in return. 

“Well, if I said yes you would know I’m lying anyways, so I’ll just say it. I wish I didn’t have to meet up with you in secret, I wish I didn’t have to hide it from everyone else. I’m sure you would get along very well with my friends…”

“I see… Don’t be sad though, I think I have a plan !”

“A plan ? What kind of plan ?”

“Just trust me ! Can you do that for me ?”

Itto’s eyes were shining with excitement and determination, how could you not say yes ? He never harmed you in any way and always made sure to be careful so you never got in trouble. 

“Sure, I’ll trust you.”

The second you finished your sentence, you felt yourself being lifted in the air and rested on his shoulder. You never realised how strong Itto was but this almost convinced you were as light as your basket. By the time you processed everything Itto started running not towards your village but the complete opposite direction and it made you panic. 

“W-wait ! Where are you going ?”

“Don’t worry ! I’m going to introduce you to my clan and I’m sure they’ll all love you !”

Hearing his words had the opposite effect Itto wanted. Now you were panicked and confused. He was supposed to be your friend, so surely they wouldn’t try to devour you, right ?

“...but wouldn’t it be dangerous ?

“Huh ? Why ?”

Itto sounded puzzled which made you the more puzzled out of the two. Was he acting ignorant on purpose ? What the hell was going on… 

“Aren’t they going to want to eat me ? Are you serious ?”

“Huh ?? No ?! Wait.” 

Your words made him instantly stop in his tracks. After a few silent seconds, he loudly gasped in realisation. 

“So that’s why you guys been avoiding us like crazy ! We don’t eat humans though, well, not anymore at least haha !”

“What do you mean anymore ?”

“Uh… like, for the past few centuries ? Something like that, before I was actually born !” 

“Oh…”

His explanation had to be trustworthy, Itto never lied to you once and he kind of sounded like the guy who couldn’t lie to save his own life, if you had to be honest. You felt deep shame but also hope. You were determined to explain everything to the village elders and let them know that peace was actually an option and could be a reality if only both sides could talk to each other and clear up all misunderstandings. 

“Itto, I’m sorry for doubting you and your kin this whole time…”

“No worries ! I’ve heard of all the stories from the past so I understand why humans would still remember, it’s not like we told them about our dietary changes hahaha !”

You smiled to yourself, so thankful for your wonderful friend, who then resumed his rapid pace to his home. He has always had been the most supportive for you and you were always thinking of doing something in return. You were filled with determination more than ever, you knew you could change history and it was certainly far from being a small deed. Everyone would be finally free ! 

While you were lost in your thoughts and plans, Itto kept running and running until he saw his own village. When he got close enough he had to slow down, he looked up for the first time and noticed the sun already hid behind the trees and the sky was adorning beautiful ardent colours. Winter might have been over but the days were still in the process of getting longer with each day. 

“We’re almost there baby ! See ? That’s my house on the right !”

Baby ? That was quite unusual, he never called you that before… But oh well, he was so excited he probably misspoke or something, plus you were growing curious about how the Onis lived, compared to fairy tales. You were trying to prop yourself to get a glimpse, Itto’s grip still keeping you in place on his shoulder. 

“Can’t really see like that, you know haha ?”

“Oh shit sorry my bad ! Don’t worry, once we get inside you’ll have plenty of time to look around haha !”

Itto couldn’t contain his excitement, finally he was able to bring you to his own home and introduce you to everyone. Knowing you, he was sure you would have no trouble making friends either. Heart buzzing with trepidation, he marched towards the main gate of his village, which appeared larger and larger with each step towards. Onis were bigger than humans, of course they would require bigger housings. He had no doubts you would get used to the differences pretty quickly. 

It was only when Itto stepped past the entrance that you could see what it actually looked like, as well as the intrigued faces of his kin. What felt strange to you was that they were exactly that, intrigued. Not puzzled, confused, horrified or predatory. Admittedly, they didn’t appear like they wanted to devour you but they…had a strange look. Maybe they actually had not seen humans before, outside of books or pictures ? 

Suddenly, Itto grabbed you with both hands and carefully placed you on the ground, with the biggest smile you have ever had seen on his cute face. It was the first time he brought you over, while most kids had that experience much earlier.

“So this is your house huh ? It is much bigger than the ones in our village, everything around here is bigger haha”

“Wanna come inside ?! I’m sooo happy you’re finally here at home !”

“Of course ! I’m so happy too ! Never thought this dream of mine could come true one day…”

Awfully excitedly yet gentlemanly, Itto ran to the door and almost broke it with the sheer force he opened it for you. You giggled and went inside, eyes wandering from wall to wall. Interestingly enough, outside like inside, Oni homes didn’t seem to differ that much from regular humans homes in Inazuma. Although, they did have features appreciated by the Onis, such as anti-bean artillery. Or maybe that was just Itto’s house. You cringed on the inside, remembering that one time you almost killed your friend with a dorayaki. 

“So uh…do you like it around ?”

Itto’s shy question made you turn towards him and you saw a blush creeping on his face. He was so nervous he couldn’t look up. You could tease him but, he might actually cry so maybe not this time. 

“Yea ! It actually kinda looks like home, I didn’t think it would be so similar. Though, it kinda makes sense ?”

“I’m so glad you like it ! Are you hungry by any chance ? I’d love to make you food to celebrate the occasion !”

How could you say no ? His grinning face was too cute to refuse and, if you were being real, if you weren’t going to be eaten, was it that bad to be here when you were both adults ? You weren’t a kid anymore, you could make your own decisions. 

“Alright, I’ll be your guest but ! I’ll help you with the cooking, I don’t want to be sitting around doing nothing while you do all the work buddy.”

“Sure, cooking together is super nice too !”

You also planned to make sure he wouldn’t cut a finger off due to overexcitement… Apparently, knives were also bigger than the ones you were used to, so the both of you had to be careful. 

After chatting and debating, you two decided to make some Yakisoba Oni style with Tofu Soup on the side. For dessert, you brewed tea and had some Oni made candies, with new flavours like Sakura Bloom, which instantly became your favourite. Now that the situation was different, you could take some back home and let everyone taste them, maybe even make them yourself. There was no more need to order Sakura Bloom from the city. 

 “Can I take the remaining ones for my village ? I’d like to have the village elders taste them and explain to them what happened.”

“Sure ! But those might go bad by the time you see them again haha ! Alright, let’s set the bed up. Sorry I didn’t prepare it, I had no idea you’d be coming over…”

“It’s ok, I had no idea either. Oh, but I didn’t bring any of my stuff… could I maybe…?”

“No worries ! The Greatest Oni has everything covered !”

Itto rushed to a drawer and took out a small box, which contained human sized toothbrush with toothpaste, both which seemed rather familiar, but all toothbrushes looked the same anyway. 

“As for clothes, you can borrow my stuff if you don’t mind, of course. If it’s too much, I can always ask the granny next door !”

“Thank you, I don’t want to bother you but I want to bother others even less so your shirt will be enough haha”

Sometimes, unplanned sleepovers were the best and you were set on making it the most memorable. Although, it should be the first of many memories, now that there were no danger or threats. 

You took a bath and got changed while Itto was bathing too, although you didn’t need to ask any questions about him feeling happy, considering the speed of his washing time. Nonetheless, he came out squeaky clean and even more excited than he had been all day long. 

“Should we turn the lights off and chat in the dark ? I’ve always wanted to do that but my parents didn’t let me sleep out and by the time I didn’t need to ask for their permission, we grew out of sleepovers…”

Itto’s last wish was to make you sad in any capacity. If anything, he wanted to make you the happiest and now was the best time to start being the reason why you smile. 

“Anything for you, My Lady.”

Good thing he had some pants or he would have 100% dropped the towel while making a dramatic reverence. 

“Come over quickly then !”

Itto dashed to your side and jumped on the bed, making your body bounce up with the impact. Oni beds had thicker and bouncier mattresses, noted. 

Hours passed and eventually you passed out, excitement had run out and exhaustion claimed your body. Before it got to his turn, Itto fondly watched you sleep, as he still couldn’t believe it was real. The only way to know was to wake up the next morning and he would be sure that it wasn’t a dream of sorts. 

Morning birds sang spring tunes and sunlight came through the spaces between curtains. Itto woke up as usual and as soon as he turned his head around, he remembered everything that happened and got immediately filled to the brim with joy. He managed to contain his emotions so he could watch your peaceful face for longer. 

To his biggest disappointment, you ended up waking up a couple of minutes later. After the initial shock, you too remembered the escapade and pieced everything together. It really felt different to wake up like this. But it was unfortunately time to go, if you didn’t want your whole village to take up their arms and storm through the forest. 

“How was sleep ? I think I’ve had my best night in a while haha”

“I dreamed of you last night, no joke ! Imagine my surprise when I woke up with you in my bed… I thought I was still dreaming !”

“Haha I don’t remember my dreams, all I can remember is that we were together and no one else was telling me to go home… But sadly, I think I have to or my family will be too worried.”

“It’s ok, you can stay for longer, we have food and everything you need. As for your family, I can send them a message telling them that you’re fine and all !”

“Uh yea but… I don’t think I can stay though…”

You slowly sat up on the bed and started stretching your limbs, closing your eyes in the meantime. You really had an amazing night of sleep, that mattress must be the reason. Maybe there was a human bed sized one, you would love to have one at home. You opened your eyes and that was when you noticed Itto hadn’t answered you back. You looked up to him worriedly. He must be sad at the idea of you leaving so soon. 

Or so you thought. 

Itto wasn’t happy but he wasn’t sad either. What he felt was an ache in his chest and he knew what he had to do, if he wanted to stop the growing pain. Surely you would understand, right ? 

Itto’s lips crashed against yours, a hand of his behind your head holding you still. You tried to push him away but he was too strong, so you had to wait for the kiss to end before you could speak to him about your boundaries. 

After what felt like minutes, Itto broke the kiss and locked eyes with you while catching breath. There was your moment. 

“Itto… I really like you a lot, but…-”

‘you’re my dearest friend and that’s the only way I see you.’ was supposed to follow but Itto didn’t let you finish. His lips devoured yours once more and this time he pushed you down with his body, trapping you between his own much bigger frame and the bed you had slept on. 

Although your efforts to push him away were quite fruitless, Itto caught your wrists with his hand and pinned them above your head. The realisation of what he was doing and what you were wearing made his blood rush down to his growing member. His Oni genes blessed him with better smell than humans and he definitely could smell how his scent was now mixed with yours on the shirt he lent you for the night. 

In his rut, Itto accidentally bit your lip but as soon as he was about to apologise for hurting you, he got much harder because of the little noise you made and the taste of your blood in his mouth. He really tried to be gentle with you but he couldn’t fight back against his instincts. His whole body had been screaming at him to fuck you senseless and make your belly go round with his offsprings. 

He loved you too much to let you go, he knew you would never return. He lied to you when he said Onis stopped eating humans, some clans still did. Two girls were caught last year and were offered to be shared with his village, although they refused the offer. Another girl, on the other hand, didn’t end up in the stomachs of neighbouring Onis. She was actually still there in his village, kept as a wife. Which was exactly what he planned to do with you. 

His head full of domestic fantasies, Itto’s other hand travelled all over your body, which turned out to be much smaller compared to his size. He never had the chance to look or touch you so directly, he had no idea he would be so turned on by this discovery either. 

Itto quickly grabbed his signature thick white and purple ropes and tied your wrists together to have both his hands free to explore your body with more ease ; all the while he kept kissing you over and over, with breaks long enough to breathe a bit but too short to say anything in between. 

Itto grabbed your thighs and parted them with seemingly no effort, even though you did all you could to keep them closed to no avail. He settled himself between your legs and pushed them a bit higher up to your chest. A concern suddenly got to his mind, so his lips parted with yours. While catching his breath, Itto thought hard about one thing : to keep or to remove the shirt that was now glued to your sweaty skin. His pondering gaze was stuck to your heaving chest, he couldn’t see you shake your head, tears in your eyes. 

After a few seconds, Itto steadied his breathing and made the decision. He grabbed your top and tore it open, buttons flying all over the place but kept it on you ; he wanted you to wear it while making you his, as a romantic gesture. 

The sight of your jiggling breasts made his cock impossibly hard and unbeknownst to him, his hips started rutting against your still clothed core. You assumed that his shirt was so long you didn’t need any bottoms, so you only wore your panties you washed before sleep. Having pants would have changed nothing in your case. You still felt how hard he was, but most importantly, how huge he was. You should have known, if everything about Onis was bigger, of course their cocks would be much larger than human ones as well.

Your clothed heat felt so, so good that Itto felt his impending orgasm. But he gathered all of his willpower to not cum on the spot, rather he wanted to fill your pussy to the brim with his seed and not waste a single drop. He could paint your skin white another time.  

He somehow managed to stop his hips before tearing your underwear to shreds and admiring how wet you became. Seeing your clit throb with need made his member throb in reaction. Itto smeared his precum with his tip all over your pussy, while slicking himself up. 

Before he could move again, you opened your mouth to beg him to stop and reconsider. Unfortunately, Itto’s mind was so dizzy with his love for you that he couldn’t even imagine your denial. The only thing he had in his mind was making you moan and cum around his cock, milking him dry in the process. Which was why he cupped your cheek in a loving and tender manner, while pushing his tip inside. 

Everything hurt, he was just too big. He penetrated you slowly but surely, until he could feel your cervix. Tears fell down your face but Itto kissed them all away. He didn’t like seeing you in pain, so he stilled himself inside of you. You felt his hand slide down your belly and reached between your folds, aiming for your clit. Itto repositioned his hand so his thumb would be giving it languid circles, which made you tighten around him with each stroke. 

When your cries turned into moans, Itto slowly pulled back up to the tip and pushed back inside with more ease than the first time, which he happily took as a sign that your pussy was ready for him. He then gripped your thighs harder and his thrusts turned animalistic. 

Each thrust was so deep and hard, it was so much more intense than anything you felt before. Itto was so big he made your pussy stretch around him without any more space left, he could reach all your pleasure spots at once when his tip was kissing your cervix. All of that was happening at a maddening pace. Your mind was clouded with pleasure and all you could think about was Itto and how good he was making you feel. So good that you felt the coil in your stomach explode, making you clench tighter than ever.

Needless to say, Itto was getting drunk on the feeling of your throbbing pussy around his cock. The fact that he was the one who could pleasure you like this filled him with happiness and pride, as well as a hint of possessiveness. The last bit made his thrust go even harder, he was sure you wouldn’t be able to walk properly for weeks. Not that you would even need to, in fact. Soon, you would become his sweet and delightful wife and mother of his children and not of some bastard, how beautiful you would be ! 

Such thoughts of you quickly sent him over the edge. In your haze, you felt his load flowing inside of your pussy, yet that was only one round. Itto wanted to make sure you would make his own dream come true, he had to make sure you were overflowing with his cum. Fortunately for him, his cock was still as hard as a rock and ready to fuck load after load into you. 

“Baby, I love you so much ! Let’s keep making memories together !”