Apples of the Earth: A Technoblade x Reader (ON HIATUS)

Chapter 24: Lavender

Y'all are gonna love this chapter.

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"Fundy! Where are you, you little rascal?", Wilbur called out, strolling casually down the hallway with an irremovable smile on his face. He could hear the little footfalls of his son as he dashed through the hallways in escape. Fundy could run, hide, try whatever he wanted to; it was all futile, it was all pointless. Will could've caught up to the little fox-boy easily, but he enjoyed the fun of the chase, and couldn't help trying to give his boy hope of outrunning his father.

Wilbur had just turned the corner when he saw the tangerine fur of his son's tail and a door close behind it at the end of the corridor. The wide smile fell to a taunting smirk. Where else would the fox run to other than his den?
Wilbur whistled to himself as he strode down the hallway towards his son's bedroom. The prince teasingly knocked on the door, the sound of rushed breathing becoming muffled as the sound of knuckle hitting wood echoed on either side of the door.

Fundy was hidden from his father in a place he was certain he wouldn't be discovered, hands over his mouth to prevent his breathing from being audible. He tensed as the door clicked open and the hinges creaked. Fundy's ears twitched with each of Wilbur's footsteps as he searched the bedroom. Fundy peered through a crack in his cover to see his dad peer under his bed and under the covers. He froze when his father began approaching the wardrobe he was inside. He closed his eyes as the doors opened.

It was a tense minute of ruffling clothes and clinking hangars as Wilbur searched the closet. Other than the author hidden deep in the closet avoiding their gender crisis, Wilbur found no one in the closet. He closed the doors with a sigh, about to give up the search when he suddenly got an idea. He dramatically sighed while approaching the bedroom door, purposely speaking louder when he said "It seems Fundy isn't in here. I guess I'll have to eat all the fresh berry tarts in the kitchen without him."

Fundy gasped and swung the wardrobe doors open, peering out from the top of the wardrobe where shoes and boxes were stored. "I want tarts!", the boy cried, leaping into his father's awaiting arms. "How did you manage to get up there?", Wilbur asked as Fundy's earthy brown eyes shone in excitement. "I hopped up! And I climbed on the door."
"What a talented son I have.", Wilbur praised, looking ahead at the door he had left slightly ajar down the hallway, having successfully carried Fundy back down the corridors without rousing suspicion. Fundy seemed too busy imagining the warm crust and sweet berry jam of tarts, that he didn't notice Wilbur wasn't taking him to the kitchen, but instead to the room he had ran from:

the dreaded washroom.

"Bath time!"
"Nooooooooo!"

"Come on Fundy, baths aren't that bad.", Wilbur attempted to sooth his son, but his efforts proved fruitless as Fundy began squirming around in his hold, like he had earlier before making his daring escape. Unfortunately, Wilbur had already got into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. No matter how well the four year old boy could jump, his little bean paws had never been very good at opening doors. Once he was soaked in the evil bubbly water, Fundy was doomed.

Fundy was placed by the sink, where he sat sulking while his dad checked the bathwater was still warming. Upon seeing slim tendrils of steam rising from the surface of the water, Wilbur concluded it was fine. He turned to Fundy and placed him within the tub, where he remained standing with his cheeks puffed and arms crossed. "What scented soap do you want, bubs? There's apple, berries, lavender?"
"Lavender's too girly. It smells like grandma.", Fundy whined, still sulking.
"You like spending time with grandma though."
"But I don't wanna smell like grandma."

Seeing Fundy was still sad, Wilbur decided a little bit of bribery wouldn't do any harm. 
"You know, I wasn't lying about fresh tarts. If you behave during your bath, I'll take you down to the kitchen and we can have some tarts. Not too many though, we can't have you full of sugar when it's time for bed.", Wilbur added when his son began cheering and splashing the water. "Now, which soap?"
"... Lavender."

"Don't be embarrassed, bubs. Lavender is a very nice smell, it doesn't matter if it's a flower." Seeing as Fundy had his chin tucked into his chest, Will knew he was still embarrassed. "Let me tell you a secret, Fundy. You know your cool uncle Technoblade?"
"Yeah?"
"He uses chamomile soap. That's a flower too, and a tea. He's still cool, isn't he?"
Fundy didn't respond, but did look visibly happier.

Will began rubbing the soap into Fundy's hair, creating a sudsy bunch of bubbles. Fundy's damp orange fur shone like waxed copper as Will rinsed the soap out a little while later. The tips of his ears and tail looked creamy white, like they had been dipped into liquified pearls. Both Fundy and Wilbur smelt like lavender; Fundy had hopped up and rubbed his soapy hands in his father's hair. Will couldn't be annoyed after how much his son and he laughed. 

Wilbur scooped his son up from under his armpits and deposited him on the rug next to him. With a fluffy towel in hand, he began rubbing his son's hair dry, drying his ears gently afterwards since he didn't want to irritate them. He dried off the rest of him, including his tail so he wouldn't shake it dry like he had several times prior, before putting in the effort to dry his own hair. He wrapped his son securely in the towel and hoisted him into his arms. Then he opened the door with his elbow and exited the bathroom.

Fundy rushed him along while dressing him into his blue pyjamas, eager for tarts. As promised, Wilbur took his son to the kitchen where they both had a few tarts before heading to bed, Wilbur falling asleep at the foot of his son's bed.

Supposedly.

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Hope you enjoyed a Dadbur and little Fundy chapter! This is probably my favourite book to write.