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aurorablue22 · 3 years

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Reunited - Sirius Black x Reader

Summary/(A/N): After 14 years, Harry’s Godmother is finally reunited with her husband. I made this sort of specific to whatever my own mind came up with; (Y/N) is Harry’s Godmother, and has of course known the Marauders since their school days. She’s known Harry since the events of POA, and she took him in. Harry and (Y/N) have lived together for the past two years, and although Harry has met and seen Sirius, the most that (Y/N) has received is letters. Finally, in OOTP, they’re reunited.

Warnings: None really, maybe a lil’ kissing scene <3

“Good morning my dear!” you said as you walked into the kitchen, where Harry was cracking an egg over the frying pan.

“Mornin’ (Y/N).” he smiled, and you walked over to him.

“Y’know Harry, you don’t have to make breakfast for us. Even after all this time I feel bad-”

“(Y/N), I’m fine, I promise. Besides, I already made you tea.” he nodded towards the counter, and you gave a pouty smile as you picked up the mug. “Sweet boy.” you cooed, and ruffled his hair.

You and your godson were enjoying whatever Harry had whipped up, and talking about the strange dream he had last night, when an owl tapped on the window. You took a swig from your tea mug and lifted the latch, letting the dusty creature inside. It gave a polite hoot, and you bowed your head in return.

You unfastened the letter from the owl’s foot while Harry filled a bowl with water and a plate with bacon scraps.

“Oh, it’s from Rem!” you hastily tore the envelope, and slipped the parchment through the folds. Sprawled across the yellowed paper was half-messy, half-loopy writing, which you’d grown quite familiar with.

“What’s he up to?” Harry asks nonchalantly.

Your eyes quickly moved from left to right, scanning over the message. Your brain hung onto specific words; Order, Phoenix, Army, The Dark Lord... and Padfoot.

You took a breath in as you read your husband’s name, and Harry peeked over your shoulder, raising his eyebrows. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, my dear..” you shook your hand, handing him the message. “It’s just..”

Harry immediately understood. “Well, that’s a good thing, right? You do want to see him... right?”

You whipped around, your updo falling loose. “Of course I want to see him! I just... I just don’t know.. “ you sighed, and sat back at the kitchen table. Your brain floated back to what Remus had written; how the Order was reassembling, and he was extending the invite to you, just like he had in the 70s.

Not only that, but he had scribbled something along the lines of “Padfoot will be joining us as well. I do hope you’re willing to see him.”

Of course you did! But it was complicated to explain to others. You were nervous. The most communication you’d had with Sirius over the past two years was letters. Most of his were on scraps of newspaper, so you always made sure to pack extra parchment into your envelopes.

Within the past few weeks, his message arrived a lot cleaner and appeared less rushed, which you appreciated. Each time an owl arrived, your heart soared. But in those letters, you couldn’t reveal anything about your lives, in case they fell into the wrong hands. That being said, the most you two could say to each other was “I love you”.

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It was just after 7 o’clock, when Remus and a girl with purple hair had come to pick up you and Harry. She introduced herself as ‘Tonks”. Of course, you hadn’t realized at the time she was your cousin in law.

You both waved them off, Remus assuring them you’d catch up soon. You gave your Godson a kiss on the cheek.

“Be good,” you pointed your finger at him “Listen to Tonks”.

“I will, I will!” he teased.

When they’d both left, you and Remus sat on the tiny loveseat in comfortable silence.

“I wanted to check up on you,” he stated, and you looked up to reach his gaze. Oh, Remus. Your best friend. “I realize when I sent my letter it must’ve been a bit of a shock to you.” he placed his hand over yours.

“Oh yes, well, I think I might’ve frightened Harry more than anything. I’m not sure if he’s used to how dramatic I am yet.” you two laughed, Remus teasing you that it took him a long time to get used to it too.

Your laughter died down, and Remus spoke again. “He’s very excited to see you, (Y/N). In fact, he’s been fixing up his hair all day.”

You couldn’t even laugh. That was such a Sirius thing to do.

Your eyes glossed over at the thought, which Remus noticed immediately. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to see him Rem.” you cut him off, and you saw relief wash over his features. “I’m just a little nervous.”

It took a few minutes, but after a warm hug and Remus’s signature pep talks, you were ready to go. Never letting go of his hand, the two of you apparated to 12 Grimmauld Place.

Always a gentleman, Remus opened the front door for you, and you were greeted by the distant chatter at the end of the hall. Although you couldn’t see any faces, you recognized the voice of your Godson and his friends, along with that of Mad-Eye and Mrs. Weasley, to be followed by-

him.

It was that glorious laugh you’d waited 14 years to hear, the sound bounced around your head and you began to feel faint. Remus patted your shoulder, and you turned your head to look at him.

He nodded towards the end of the corridor, smiling. You took a deep breath, staring down the long hallway ahead of you. You brushed the stray hair out of your face and clenched your fists. As you began walking, you could hear Remus following close behind.

Your footsteps were booming across the corridor, your pace picking up with every step. Your breathing heightened and your heart was in your throat. You pushed open the door in front of you, and it slammed against the wall. The sound alerted the entire room, and you scanned over everyone’s faces. You finally landed on those eyes, his eyes, still as grey and dreamy as you’d left them.

“(Y/N)!” he shouted, getting up from his seat, looking anything but composed.

“Sirius” you breathed, tears already forming. The two of you ran towards each other, and finally, after 14 long years, you found yourself in his embrace once more.

It was tight and strong, he held you protectively yet with extreme caution. You sobbed into his chest, knowing that there weren’t enough words in the English language to describe how you felt at the moment.

Much to your surprise, and those in the room, Sirius began to cry as well. Not as much as you, but tears fell from his eyes as though he was only a boy. You held onto him, not wanting to let go, your hands digging into his jacket, and your face buried in his chest.

The world fizzled out around you, and you didn’t even notice how people were reacting to the scene. Remus leaned against the doorframe, wiping away a few tears himself; he felt so grateful he could see his best friends together once more.

Although they would deny it later on, Harry and Hermione hid their emotions behind Ron, the both of them on the verge of an entire breakdown. This was followed by Mrs. Weasley, who was sniffing loudly as her husband passed her a handkerchief.

Sirius was the first to pull away, and he cupped your face with his hands. He had a certain look on his face, as though he’d fallen in love all over again. He wiped away your tears with his thumb, and looked into your eyes.

Your knees might’ve given out at that very moment if he wasn’t there to steady you. “Even more beautiful then when I left you.” he spoke, barely over a whisper, his voice sending those familiar tingles down your spine.

You couldn’t even form words, you were so lost in his features. You only smiled, which he returned. “Why don’t we go into the other room, hmm?” he wrapped an arm around your waist, leading you out of the dining room. You could barely hear Ginny burst into loud sobs behind you, and how Mrs. Weasley followed suit.

He walked you down the hall, and you never took your eyes off each other, only breaking the gaze when he opened the door to the living room.

You two sat on the dusty couch in the dimly lit room, and he took your hands in his. You realized then and there how much you’d missed his loving gaze; at this point he was practically drooling at the sigh of you.

He wrapped his arms around you once more, his head resting atop yours. “I’ve missed you so much my love, so very much.”

You only gripped him harder, breathing in the smell of cigarette smoke and his old cologne. Your eyes pricked yet again; it was the cologne you used to spray on his pillow when he was first imprisoned.

“Sirius..” you said his name as though it were your only prayer. He hummed in response, lifting your face to meet his. You leaned in closer to him, your faces not even an inch apart. You closed the gap, your lips finally meeting his. You took in a breath through your nose, and butterflies began swarming in your stomach.

You parted your lips, which Sirius took as an invite, and his tongue slipped into your mouth. Your hands found their way into his hair, and his around your waist. You felt your cheeks getting wet, and you realized it was from Sirius. A few tears had spilled from his eyes, but he didn’t let up from the kiss.

It was full of passion and love, sprinkled with a bit of lust. He laid you gently on the couch, his body hovering over yours, and you finally broke apart. He gave a few gentle pecks down your neck, and returned to eye level with you.

“Oh darling..” you spoke, trying to contain the emotions that were sure to spill out of you. Both of you were at a loss for words, simply staring at each other, taking in everything you’d missed out on. You smiled lovingly at him, and the corners of his mustache quirked as he did the same. You giggled, fiddling with his locks.

“You grew a beard.” you stated, still admiring the sight before you.

“Do you not like it?” he asked, more so a rhetorical question than anything.

“I find it very sexy.” you reassured him.

He chuckled a bit, never taking his eyes off you. “Oh my dear,” he stroked the side of your face, and he brought you to sit back up. “I haven’t a clue how I managed without you.”

A certain emotion flashed over his eyes, and he fought off a grimace, trying to outrun the hell that lived within him. You placed a hand on his cheek, your wedding band giving a bit of a cold sting to his face.

He gently took your hand and brought it into view; his eyes crystallized once he saw the ring he’d given you so many years ago. “You kept it..” his tone was unsure, as though he was confused as to why you did.

“Of course I did Siri, I love you.” your heart ached for him; he must’ve thought you’d moved on before he’d seen Remus again. You remembered the conversation you had with Remus a few months ago, where he opened up about seeing Sirius again. They’d been writing every couple of months, and Remus had to constantly reassure him that you were still available; that you’d never given up on your husband.

“I’ll always love you.” you furrowed your brow in an attempt to conceal yet another sob.

“And I, you. My sweet girl.” Sirius placed a kiss on your knuckles, then moved back to your lips. “I love you more than you’ll ever know.” he mumbled into the kiss, and you felt yourself melt in his embrace, knowing that you and your husband were finally reunited.

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Hi my lovelies!! I hope you enjoyed reading this just as much as I loved writing it! Let me know if I should follow up on this “Reunited” fic, because I’m really looking forward to adding more. That would include something romantic and/or something smutty, I’m honestly up for anything bahaha. Please send in your requests, whether it be for this fic or really anyone in Harry Potter. And don’t be afraid of giving feedback, I’d love to know what you think! <3

~Aurora

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darling-cas · 3 years

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Hoax (an original story)

I amaze myself sometimes.

My therapist says I need to go back to things that bring me joy, says I need to find happiest in life again. During one specific session, I was asked to name a time when I was truly at peace, a time I felt moments of pure joy outside of my partner and friends. The first thing that came to mind was a time years ago, when I would post stories here, on this website, for you all to see.

This surprised me honestly, because if you knew me personally (*cough* hi @ilikebigbooks-and-icannotlie *cough*) you would know the amount of stress and pressure I put myself under when it came to writing We Are Young, Whatever It Takes, etc, etc, etc. But despite all the negative emotions, the moments that always stand out to me is sitting on my laptop after I clicked post, watching all the love and adoration pure in from each and every one of you.

I say this monthly but, I really do want to get back into writing. Thanks to my therapist and business major partner, I’ve been dipping my toes into editing for others as a side job. But I want to make my way back to writing my own stories and sharing them with even the smallest corner of the world. This story, Hoax, I wrote actually one year ago, when I first started therapy and after a hard heartbreak. It helped me feel like myself again and lifted me out of the darkness.

I hope, for even the smallest number of you, it does the same. I hope you can feel the same magic that I felt when I wrote it. Take this as a thank you for, years ago, bringing me such joy and happiness.

Until next time...

Cas.

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The air was midsummer sweet.

It was an Indian summer of blue sky dreams and late evening tears, with the weather shifting moods in the blink of an eye. Grey clouds would eclipse the setting sun with their mighty fists, soaking up the colour of the earth like ink drenching a cotton ball.

And with the continuous alternating weather came the busty smell of sunblock and wet grass. Summer scents combined with the salty air and pungent fish that cling to Jake’s senses from the moment he started his journey along the coastal towns.

His mountain travels started just mere days ago. The task of hiking the grand peak was something he was finally going to cross off his bucket list. Dipping into his savings and requesting a week or two off work was a small price to pay when it came to the tranquility and beauty laid bare before him.

Born and raised on the outskirts of the city, there hadn't been much nature for him to appreciate and admire growing up. But from the moment Jake entered the first small, close-knit fishing town, all he could seem to do was appreciate and stare in outright awe.

The land laid undisturbed all around; the mountains, the trees, the ocean, they had all planted their roots, dug in their heels, and refused to surrender. Cities had been conquered, the vast expansion of country fields and towering summits were placed in chains, forced to give themselves to man. But here, on the coast of fishing villages, it seems as if Land and Man came to an agreement, a compromise, an understanding, to live in peace as one.

Roads of all kinds swerved, twisted, curled up and down along the coast, between the trees. Houses of unnaturally charming bright blues, yellows, oranges, and greens sat gracefully against the mountain rocks, climbing up the forest-speckled cliffs. Homes and buildings of sea-weathered colour rested on the broken shoreline. Boats bobbed in the water, their docks reaching out towards the horizon like fingers longing to reach and touch a disappearing lover.

In the coastal towns, driving along the sunset stained ocean, Jake swore he would never see true beauty again.

Even now, when the sky wept tears of sorrow, its beauty never vanished.

The weather came on suddenly, as he passed the welcoming sign for Higdon's Harbour. The roads became slick, a ghostly fog settled in, and the colours were muted a few shades darker by the clouds above. Rivers trickled down the mountain side, disappearing into shallow ditches. Waves started to leap and jump to catch the increasing wind. All while the sky cried on and on.

Jake drove on through the town. Classic rock thumped softly in the background and raindrops tapped on the roof of the car. He had planned not to stop for the night until the next town over. He had driven through several rain storms since the start of his trip, and this was nothing.

But the cracks in the sky's broken heart continued to grow with exceptional pain. Tears of despair quickly turned to tears of anger. The beating on the car became more aggressive as the wind wailed daunting threats and the ocean frantically waved its arms.

It became too much, too quick. Jake was used to driving through bad weather, but not seaside storms. Not gusting winds and sideways rain. Plus, he decided, he was already making good time. So when the flashing green neon sign reading Beaumont Motel came into view, he didn’t hesitate to pull off the road, into the parking lot, and turn off his car.

A bell jingled above as Jake pushed open the door. He stepped into the warmth of the lobby, drenched through his clothes and soaking the carpet under his feet.

“Turned nasty out there real quick, didn’t it?”

Jake threw off his hood, shaking out his damp, blonde hair as he caught sight of an older woman with long grey hair smiling at him from behind a wooden desk.

She pulled her beige cardigan closer around her, brown eyes crinkling in the corners. “Looking for a room, hun?”

“If you happen to have one available,” Jake replied, walking towards the desk and setting down his backpack. Judging by the lack of cars in the parking lot, he was more than confident there were plenty of empty rooms. Still, he glanced at the woman’s name tag and flashed her a smile. “Vera.”

“Oh, hun,” Vera chuckled. Her fingers tapped away on the computer that looked too new to be in the small, tacky, lobby with flower-patterned wallpaper. A lobby that was decorated with simply a small sitting area off to the side, a dusty fireplace warming the room, a dark wooden desk, rouge carpet, and outdated lighting fixtures. “I think I have one or two available. For how long will we be seeing your handsome face around?”

“Only a night,” Jake said. “I’m just passing through.”

“Storm pushed you off the road, huh?” Vera turned around and grabbed a key off one of the hooks on the wall. “It should only last the night. Nightly storms are common for us during this time of year. Here you go, hun.”

“Thank you!” Jake took the key before picking up his bag once more, throwing it over his shoulder.

“If you’re looking to warm up a bit, Kay & Elle, the pub next door, is open for a few more hours,” Vera informed him, fixing her wool cardigan on her shoulders. “A lot of the locals inhabit the place, but we’re friendly folks here. I’m sure they’ll keep you entertained for a bit.”

“Thank you for the suggestion!” Jake pulled his hood back over his head. “Have a good night, Vera.”

She waved him off with a dazzling smile. “Enjoy your short time at Higdon’s Harbour.”

Rain beat down around Jake as the lobby door closed behind him. The sticky air promised an onslaught of thunder and lightning, but it had yet to develop. With a glance at the metal key in his hand, Jake made out a marked 9 engraved at the top. His toes were cold as he quickly made it to the door and inserted the key before pushing the door open and stepping into the musty smelling room.

It was just as drab as the lobby. The double-bed was dressed in off-white coverings. Cream walls, dark carpet, and tacky seaside pictures. Along with two side tables by the bed, a small TV on top of a mini fridge, and a bathroom door on the far wall.

It wasn’t the nicest looking room he’d ever stayed in, but he would also be lying if he said he hadn’t stayed in worse before.

With a tired and uncomfortable sigh, Jake tossed his bag onto the bed, peeled off his wet coat, and padded off into the bathroom.

He never really thought of going to the pub Vera had mentioned. His only plans that evening consisted of taking a scalding shower before crawling into bed. Maybe watching some TV or reading the book at the bottom of his bag to spice up the night.

Yet, once the two former items on his agenda were checked off, an uneasiness fell over him. Neither the TV nor his book could hold his attention. The bedsheets itched his legs. His heart thumped in his chest, just fast enough to be noticeable. He couldn’t sit still.

Lightning flashed outside and Jake’s head whipped in the direction of the window. The pub came into view; the two porch lights twinkled in the dark and laughter sounded in time to the pounding storm. It shimmered in the lightning’s afterglow, the rain creating a silver mist of magic around the stone building.

Jake tossed off the sheets and threw on some clothes and his damp jacket. The pull in the pit of his stomach pushed him towards the front door without Jake even really realizing what he was doing. But he chalked it up to boredom and the anxiety of being knocked off his schedule.

He left the warmth of his room behind, almost crashing into a figure as he gently closed his door. An apology was on the tip of his tip tongue when a feeling of nausea washed over him. He felt dizzy, stomach turning. But it was gone between one blink and the next, along with the person. Jake got a glimpse of red hair out of the corner of his eye followed by bells and laughter as the door to room 8 snapped closed.

The thunderous weather started to overload Jake's senses and the urge to get to the pub was greater. With his head down, the figure fading from his memory, Jake made his way across the parking lot.

A drink or two would kill some time, he thought to himself. At least it would help settle the uneasiness and put him to sleep.

The mist around the pub seemed to glow as Jake drew closer, but he was too busy keeping the rain out of his eyes to pay much mind to it. Warmth shot up his arm as he pushed the door open, a jingle filling the room.

The smell of liquor and smoke tainted with the slight scent of sweat greeted Jake as he stepped over the threshold of Kay & Elle. The low rumble of a banjo filled the space, bouncing off the wooden rafters, mixing with the low mumbles and chuckles of the clusters of people scattered around the room. It wasn’t a full house, but crowded enough given the storm outside.

With his footsteps sounding off the wood floors, Jake made his way to the dark-oak bar. He received a few stares and nods of acknowledgment as he walked by men and women alike, sitting at tables and standing by pool tables. As he walked past, he took in the stone walls, the empty stage in the back, the shimmering yellow lights, and the photos of fishermen, smiling ladies, and vast landscapes littered throughout the walls.

He took off his jacket, his heart having settled from the moment he entered the pub. Jake wasn’t a man who believed in faith, but in his bones, deep in his marrow, he knew this was where he was meant to be, for whatever reason.

“Well ain’t you a fresh face,” the elder man behind the bar remarked as Jake sat in one of the barstools, just a few seats down from a hunched over figure nursing a glass of whiskey.

Jake placed his wet jaket on the chair beside him as he chuckled. “Hard to be a stranger in this town.”

“Small-town life, my boy. Everyone knows everyone.” The man threw a towel over his shoulder, his dark hair pulled back in a low pony-tail, causing the wrinkles on his slim, tan face to be on full display. His green eyes sparkled in welcome and his smile pulled at the faded scar on his left cheek. “Passing through?”

The dim lights jumped and danced off the many bottles lining the wall behind the bar. A muted glow hugged the bar, the music changing to the beat of a fiddle.

“I am, but the storm took me off the road for the night,” Jake explained.

“You staying at the Beaumont?”

Jake nodded. “The woman, Vera, recommended I stop by for a drink.”

The words tasted bitter, full of half-truths and false tales. But Jake wasn’t sure why, just as he wasn’t sure how to explain his need to be sitting in the pub at that particular moment.

“That woman,” the elder man chuckled with a shake of his head. “She sends more business this way than any billboard ad ever could. Well, have a drink while you’re here…"

“Jake.”

The music skipped a beat as the fiddle played a harsh note. The air turned bitter and cold. Jake’s limbs urged him to run, screamed that he made a mistake, scolded him for giving his name so willingly. But it was a reflex; the word leaving his lips before he understood what was happening. An impulse came over him, the same one that pulled him to obey the man's demand and order a drink.

No one seemed to notice the odd behaviour, aside from the hunched over figure a few seats down. His depthless brown eyes flashed to Jake, grey hair falling across his pale, sweaty forehead. There was a look of pain and madness in those eyes. Jake opened his mouth to say something when a draft of beer appeared in front of him. And suddenly he couldn’t remember why his limbs felt tense or why there was a cold sweat on the back on his neck.

“Nice to meet ya, Jake,” the bartender smiled with a gleam in his bottle-green eyes. “Name’s Murphy.”

“Likewise,” Jake raised his drink before bringing the glass to his lips, downing half of it in a few gulps.

The hunched man tipped back the last of his whiskey, slamming the glass hard on the bartop.

“Murphy,” he spoke in a husky voice, like the sound of asphalt and gravel.

A flash of irritation, with just a hint of sadness, came over Murphy's face. He didn’t say a word as he quickly prepared another glass, sliding it gently in front of the stranger.

“Take it easy, Harold. That’s your third now.”

Harold grunted, shooting back half the glass without a word.

Murphy sighed, every other emotion but worry washing from his face for the smallest moment, before he turned back to Jake with a smile on his lips.

“So, where were you headed before the rain knocked you off track?”

After another smaller sip of beer, Jake explained his mountain travel plans and his desire to reach the great peak that waited for him at the end.

“Good on ya. Do it all now while you’re still young and can move about,” Murphy said with a chuckle. “This a solo trip? Or are you with someone special? Perhaps they’re waiting for you back in your room?”

“No,” Jake chuckled, ignoring the grunt of clear annoyance from the man a few seats down from him. “Just me.”

A glimmer appeared in the old man's eye. “So no one speical then? No sweetheart waiting for ya?”

Glass rattled as Harold slammed his empty drink back down on the bar.

Jake cast a sideways glance at the stranger. Restlessness rushed through him as he slowly sat up straighter. Tension gripped his limbs as Harold turned to look at him. Those unnaturally dark eyes shined with intensity. They held so much knowledge, so much pain, so much fury that Jake couldn’t look away.

“Don’t waste your time with such things, boy,” Harold grumbled, voice rough and firm. His brows were pulled together so tight they were touching, as the bar cast his face in shadows of back and grey. “Love is pointless.”

He said the word love with such hatred, Jake felt as if the stone structure surrounding them would cave in and collapse.

Murphy, for his part, looked just as on edge. It was a fact that did little to calm Jake's sudden nervousness.

“Harold,” he sighed. “Let’s take a moment-”

“There is one thing that is certain when it comes to love,” Harold continued, eyes gazing unblinkingly at Jake. “It is nothing but pain. Love is made up of pain and heartbreak and bitter ends. It is a useless and pointless part of the whole damn human existence.”

A hush fell over the bar, as if even the other guests could sense the mood Harold had brought about. The upbeat tone of the fiddle suddenly switched to a soulless wail. . A shiver ran up Jake’s spine and he begged his body to turn away, to dismiss the man and be done with it. But he couldn’t. His unmerciful gaze pulled him in and suddenly Jake was drowning in the scent of liquor and smoke and dead leaves and depthless seas.

“You fight so hard." Harold gripped his glass, and a crack started to appear. “You fight with all you have and give yourself completely and it's no good. It doesn’t matter. Nothing you do is good enough. Love is about fighting a losing battle and in the end, only one person suffers the consequences. And it's usually the one who fought the hardest.”

“Harold.”

Murphy’s voice was firm, loud, booming over the music as Jake jumped back in his seat. He didn’t realize how intently he’d been listening to Harold. How he was hanging on to every word like it was air. Or how, while talking to the terrifying man, for the first time since entering the town, Higdon’s Harbour glowed with colour.

An angry, remorseless, pulsating red colour.

Harold held Jake's gaze for a moment longer, intense eyes cast in complete shadow, before turning back to the bar.

“Thanks for the advice,” Jake found himself saying, voice shaking more than he'd like to admit. He didn’t mean to speak, the words simply rushed out of him with an aftertaste of smoke.

Clearing his throat, Jake downed the last of his beer before pushing the glass towards Murphy for a refill.

A hush fell around them for just a few moments, the tension already starting to subside. Jake felt his shoulders drop as he slowly sipped his beer and Murphy slid Harold a glass of water. After some small talk with the old bartender, Jake felt himself able to breathe once more. His body started to relax, the fog lifting from his head. He was breaking the surface and forgetting all about the darkness of the ocean and the murdered limbs of the trees on the forest floor.

While on his third drink, Murphy started to get busy with the other parties of the bar. Tables started to ask for refills, and drenched couples walked through the door, the wind roaring behind them. He drifted more and more between the bar and the tables. And it was about that time that Jake decided he would soon be calling it a night.

“You shouldn’t have stopped, boy.”

Ice crawled up Jake’s spine at the sound of that sandpaper voice. Murphy was off to some seemingly remote corner of the bar. Jake couldn’t help but notice that every new body who walked in stayed far away from the bar, from him, and from Harold.

Jake gripped the tall draft in his hand, foam and condensation running through his numb fingers.

He turned to face Harold, those black soulless eyes dragging him into the abyss. He was in a freefall, too much rushed through him all at once. A thumping started at his left temple and his heart dropped to his stomach as he fell and fell and fell from the bowels of the sky through the open arms of the corpse-like trees.

“You shouldn’t have stopped,” Harold spat, teeth clenched and head hung low. “You should get out of this cursed town before they get you too. They know you’re here. They knew you’d be here before you knew you’d be here. They got to the rest of this damned town. They got her. Get out before they get you too, boy.”

Fear rooted Jake in place. Fear for what, he couldn’t tell. But in the back of his mind, in the depth of his soul, he knew Harold was right. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t have stopped. Yet, the thought of leaving caused his heart to clench and spots to form behind his eyes. Without his control, he found his lips forming the words -

“Who are they?”

The lights flickered with the time of the thunder clashing outside. The fiddle faded out and the haunting strings of a violin floated through the room, accompanied by a soulful woman's wail.

He knew he shouldn’t have asked. He shouldn’t provoke this man. He should just pay his tab, get up, and leave. But it was unexplainable, much like the whole night had been. He simply couldn’t help himself.

Harold completely turned to Jake. The harsh lines on his face caught the glow of the dim lights. His eyes burned with unattainable wisdom and passion. Jake's heart started to race, limbs locking into place as he noticed the music slowed. Along with, somehow, every other body and soul in the bar. A haze filled the room, a mist blurring and engulfing everything that was not Jake and was not Harold. Even the storm seemed to hush, with only the woman's cry continuing on.

“Let me tell you a story, son.” Harold’s voice turned mystical, the words floating in the air between the two. “Cause I’ve lost my friends, my family, this whole damn town, and yet no one will believe me. They think I’m a nut-case, a man full of grief. But I ain’t, you hear? And maybe you’ll believe me. Maybe you won’t. But they took my wife-”

“Your wife is missing?”

Jake’s pulse jumped as Harold leaned in close, his blood-shot eyes burning crimson red. “For years now. Cause they took her.”

“They?” Jake repeated, feeling physically ill.

Harold nodded. “The fairies.”

He should have laughed. He should have backed off. His mind should have been yelling at him that the man was senile, crazy, insane. He should have bid him goodbye, called over Murphy, and been done with this place, this man. This man who was staring at him with all the earnestness in the world.

Fairies.

The word danced around in his head, bells and whistles suddenly joining in with the escalating violin. Suddenly, the whole town made all the sense in the world and yet, none at all.

“Fairies?” Jake spoke slow and steady. “They’re just folklore. A myth.”

Even as he said it, the words turned to dust on his tongue. He wanted to wash the taste out with his beer, but found he genuinely couldn’t move.

“The Harbour Fairies,” Harold whispered. “Nasty creatures. And if you believe they’re just a myth, you’re as foolish as the rest of them. If you believe there isn’t more to this world, that we’re the only beings here, you’re blin. These aren’t just some little buggers who pick your berries and sprinkle dust. They are savage, mischievous demons.”

Jake started to shake his head, mostly to clear the fog that had started to form. “I don’t-”

“We here grew up wearing our clothes inside out and carrying bread in our pockets to stop the little people from leading us astray,” Harold spoke with more urgency than Jake had heard all night, “But little good it did. Everyone was blinded by what was right in front of them. These creatures play tricks. Oh, they love tricks. And not the fun kind. No, the kind that leads you over a cliff or dead at the bottom of the sea. They are unpredictable forces of nature who lead you in the woods, and suddenly you're never heard of again.”

“And they got your wife.”

“They stole her,” Harold spat the words into the air. His gaze flicked towards the red-head who walked past them, beer in hand, before he spoke again. “They took her from me. Everyone here believes she ran away, but I know. I caught them you see, I saw it with my own two eyes. One day she was in the garden, the next…”

… she walked into the woods, never to be seen again. Jake knew because he saw it himself. He watched it play out in Harold’s aged eyes. And suddenly he was inserted into a story that was not his. He didn’t feel right; too tight in his skin, eyes unable to properly focus on the greys, blacks, and whites of the world. But he still watched.

A grass-stained seven year old boy cradled the arm of a pretty girl with messy blonde hair. They sat in a treehouse, feet dangling over the edge, kicking at the clouds. The girl had tear-tracks running down her cheeks and dead flowers stuck in her hair. She was biting her lip, nodding as the boy spoke.

“I told you not to make your papa mad,” he whispered sternly.

“I didn’t mean to,” her lips trembled, gaze moving to anything but the boy before her. “It wasn’t my fault.”

The boy shook his head as he ran his hand over the forming bruise. “You gotta be more careful Cathy. What if something were to happen to ya?”

“Then let's get out of this town, Harry,” a seventeen-year old girl twirled in the headlights of an old pick-up truck. The waves crashed against the shore in the distance, the sun tenderly kissing the horizon goodbye. The girl’s blonde, messy braids whipped around her shoulder, dress bunched at her ankles. She stood before a brown haired boy, grass-stains on his jeans, leaning against the red truck. “Let’s pack up and leave after graduation next week.”

“And go where, Cathy?” The boy shook his head. “I have a job lined up on the boat and you have-”

“Nothing! I have nothing!” She threw her hands in the air. “I ain’t got nothing lined up. Just my next shift at the diner. I want to go to school, you know I do. But papa-”

“Don’t worry about your father,” the boy grabbed at the girls skirts, pulling her so close their hips touched. “I told you, I’ll protect you from your papa.”

The girl bit her lips, forest green eyes glancing over the boy's shoulder. Her face was tender but the look of caution never left. As if she wanted to believe the boy holding her but her heart refused to pay heed. “Promise?”

“I do.”

Applause thundered across the crowd, the waves beating against the rocky cliffs. The man lifted the woman's veil, tucking a piece of messy blonde hair behind her ear before gripping the back of her neck. He leaned in and placed a kiss on his lips. Whistles and wails filled the air, a screaming violin starting to play as the newly-weds walked down the aisle.

She held on her husband’s arm like a life-line, biting her lip as her father clapped the bride-groom on the shoulder. Her eyes darted around the crowd, the same look of caution from five years ago still masked her face.

It was a look that never left her face, a look that was forever present in the back on her eyes. It was the only thought Jake found he was able to form; the look of a woman who was scared. The look of a woman who was holding a secret.

And maybe she was, for that look stayed with her for all the years to come, Jake noticed. He watched Harold's and Catherine’s life play out before him, just as Harold described. The twenty plus years together. The moments of tender love, the moments of bitter fights. The squealing laughter and howling sobs. The funerals and the weddings, The slamming bottles and doors leading to nights together and alone. It wasn’t the best marriage, but what marriage is, Harold said.

They never had kids, their life centred around just the two of them, their fading love and the growing tension. Every second leading up to that moment, in a garden of muted yellows, reds, and oranges.

Flowers in her messy hair, a near fifty year old Catherine knelt before a bed of dirt. Sunglasses covered her eyes, dirt stained her knees, finger nails, and cheeks. She was silent as she worked.

A door slammed in the distance. “Catherine!”

The tension became electricity in the air. Catherine’s head snapped up as footsteps made their way to the backyard.

Jake noticed it at the exact moment she did. The wind switched directions, bells jingled off the tree tops, mystical laughter floated out from the forest on the other side of the garden.

Catherine turned slowly. The flower fell out of her hair. She tossed the sunglasses onto the ground and her bruised, deep green eyes glowed against the muted world. She walked towards the tree line, footfalls light. Laughter bubbled past her own lips and, between one step and the next, she was gone.

“... the forest swallowed her up and I knew they got to her.”

Jack was back in the bar. Everything rested as it had, and he himself wasn’t even sure if what he had just witnessed was real. Surely not, but the description and details felt real, tangible. As if, for a moment, he truly stood in Harold's memories.

“The forest was the only way out,” Harold’s eyes were wide, urgent, and the brightest things in the whole bar. “It was either through the house or the forest. And she’d been acting out for years. Always in the garden, out on her own. They got her, it's the only answer. But,” a pause, eyes shifting. “I know where she is.”

Jake swallowed, throat dry as sandpaper. “You do?”

“An island just a few miles out in sea. A rocky cliff, that's where they stay,” Harold nodded, talking more to himself than Jake. “She's there, with them. I’m taking my boat out tomorrow morning. I’m going to get her and-”

“Harold.”

Murphy’s voice was enough to make Jake jump back. He never noticed how close he had been leaning towards the old man. Just as he never realized how tightly he was holding his warm, untouched third glass of beer. He pulled his hand back, wiping it on his jeans as the pulsing in his left temple grew stronger.

As he looked around the pub, Jake took in all the faces looking his way. Eyes bounced between him and Harold, whispers and murmurs accompanying the flute and violin pair. It was only when Murphy loudly, purposely, cleared his throat that the inhabitants of the bar started to look as if they weren’t listening.

“Harold,” Murphy spoke softly, placing a hand on Harold’s tense shoulder. “I think it's time to head home, friend.”

There was a fight in Harold’s eyes, Jake could see it. That bloodshot, haunting, soulless gaze held a fire and life to them, ignited by the hatred for creatures that couldn’t exist. But the moment Murphy spoke, the moment Harold looked around the pub and saw all the eyes on him, the fire vashined. It was as quick as releasing a breath, there one minute and gone the next.

Harold held Jake’s gaze. There was still so much left unsaid, unanswered, and Jake found he didn’t want him to go. His mind and soul craved to know more about fairies and their secret world.

A laughter echoed off the rafters, and Jake realized for the first time that night how terrified and exposed he truly was.

“Tomorrow morning,” Harold grunted as he stood, the invitation loud and clear. Jake didn’t understand why Harold was inviting him along but it somehow made all the sense in the world.

With no other parting words, with not so much as a glance at any other living soul in the pub, Harold walked out. Back hunched as he disappeared over the threshold, rain and wind howling as they swallowed him whole.

A hush carried on throughout the pub for a few heartbeats. Until the flute faded back into the plucking of a guitar. Someone cheered, laughter followed, and soon the lively atmosphere of the bar was back once more. As if the haunted man with an implausible story wasn’t present a few moments before.

“Is it true?” Jake found himself asking, tongue sliding across his chapped lips. He turned in his chair, facing Murphy, who now stood behind the bar. He hoped his shaking hand wasn't noticeable as he raised his beer to his lips. “About those… about the fairies.”

The word tasted like strawberries and metal on his lips.

Murphy glanced up for the glass he was cleaning, scar strained across his cheek as he pursed his lips. “They’re urban folktales. Myths passed down through all the generations of the Harbour.”

“And his wife?”

Murphy paused. He let out a sign, placed the glass under the bar before turning to Jake. Worry and concern shinned in his eyes.

“She left him,” he explained softly, mindful of the ears around. “Packed up and left, just like that.”

“Just like that?” Jake raised an eyebrow at Murphy’s hesitation.

“There were… rumours about cheating and drunken fights but…” Murphy took a breath, crossing his arms on the bartop as he leaned in close. “Look, Harry's a good guy, difficult but good. Our families know each other well. And Cathy… well she had a hard life with her father. She wasn’t all there before she left and Harold took it hard. He still won't get help and has himself convinced the Harbour Fairies are behind it. Says he’s seen things with his own eyes that explains it.”

Jake swallowed, leg bouncing restlessly. “He’s going out tomorrow morning-”

“Yeah,” Murphy nodded solemnly. “We’ve tried to stop him, talk sense. But he won’t listen. And he’s at the age and point now where we've given up - what can ya do.”

A lot. Jake glanced around the pub, taking in the numerous people laughing, chatting, drinking. He didn’t know these people, he shouldn’t judge, but they could be doing something to help that man. He may be talking crazy but… was he?

The more Jake studied the bar, the more it felt like a fog was lifting. The pieces were falling into place. The math was suddenly starting to make sense. And Jake refused to acknowledge the answers that were before him.

“Where is she then?” Jake asked, breathing through his nose to calm his racing heart. “His wife. Catherine.”

“No one knows,” Murphy admitted. “She got out of this town, that's for sure. And no one has heard from her since.”

“No one checks in?” Jake couldn’t hide the disbelief from his voice. “No one’s tried to find out where she is or what happened.”

Murphy watched Jake for an uncomfortable moment. His eyes looked him over, mouth twisting as if to say something. But then his lips shut, he blinked, and he shrugged before pointing to the still full glass in front of Jake. “You want another?”

Jake's breath caught in his throat. Claws bit into his spine. His skin felt too tight as a breeze brushed the back of his neck, red flashing in his vision. The room was too small and too big all at once. He didn’t know why he was feeling such a way or what had brought it on. But his gut knew it was because of this town.

And he knew he wanted to get out.

The door to the pub shut as a couple walked out, but the noise still rattled against Jake’s bones as he shook his head.

“No,” he stood up, hand shaking as he pulled out some bills and tossed them on the bar. “I think I’ll call it a night actually.”

Murphy picked up the money, either not noticing the odd behaviour or choosing to ignore it as he smiled. “Well, Mr. Jake, I hope you enjoy the rest of your short stay. Maybe someday we’ll get to see you passing through the Harbour again.”

“Who knows,” Jake gave a nervous chuckle, “It seems anything is possible.”

He left the pub in shambles. The smell of ashes and fowl fish followed Jake as he made his way to the door. Tables were knocked off centre, chairs were tipped over. The banjo played too loud and slightly off key. Men and women alike stumbled over one another, drinks spilled onto the floor. Even Murphy’s slicked back pony was a mess, falling into his dark, sweat covered face.

The illusion was breaking, the corners being pulled back to show something ugly and monstrous. Something those who inhabited Higdon’s Harbour refused to acknowledge.

Jake stepped over the threshold, blood pounding through his veins. He welcomed the rain beating down on his face, the wind biting through his damp jacket and nipping at his icy skin. The door to Kay & Elle closed with a thunderous bang. The banjo and hysterical laughter was replaced by sorrowful wind and wailing rain.

He stood there for a moment, face turned towards the sky as he tried to will air into his lungs.

He needed to get out of this town.

Whatever force pulled Jake towards the pub earlier was controlled by a demon. He didn’t know what purpose it served him, to hear about Harold and the fairies… fairies that shouldn’t, didn’t, couldn’t exist…

Someone squealed and giggled across the parking lot. With a jump, heart in his throat, Jake started to make his way back to the safety of his room.

And he was almost there, just a mere few steps away, when his body suddenly felt as if it were stretched too thin. Nausea overcame him and his head spun. The rain pierced his skin like devilish needles and the wind sang a woman's lullaby in his ear. He could hear his blood pounding in his ears, thunder crashing as someone bumped into his shoulder.

It was an innocent tap, the woman clearly too captivated by the lady on her arm to notice him. But it did all the damage in the world.

“Oh!” She gasped, the sound like a thousand bells. She grabbed his arm, full-lips pulled back in an apologetic smile as all the air vanished from Jake's chest. “I’m sorry.”

He couldn't breath, the pulsing in his left temple was suddenly magnified by ten. The warmth of her hand on his arm spread through his whole body. He no longer felt the wind and rain beating against him, he was too allured by her auburn curls, high-cheekbones, and hazel eyes that glistened like moss coated in morning dew.

She was the most hauntingly beautiful creature he had ever beheld. And every part of his being begged him to run.

“Are you okay, Jake?” Her partner spoke up. They were holding one another so close, arms locked tight, it was as if they were one. Gravity pulled them together; where one moved the other followed. A simple stranger such as himself could not doubt their adoration and love.

Jake ripped his gaze away from the red-headed woman and looked at her partner. He took in her slim face, the dirty dress, and messy blonde hair pinned back with a flower.

It was then that Jake noticed that both women were completely dry.

It was then that Jake realized they knew his name.

It was then that his eyes met the blonde’s green ones, and he saw it all.

“I told you not to make your papa mad,” a seven year old boy with grass stains on his knees told the six year old girl with a bruised arm.

“I didn’t mean to,” she trembled, and Jake realized she wasn’t avoiding the boys gaze. She was looking at someone else. She was looking at the young auburn haired creature standing a few feet away, invisible to the boy and eyes tense with worry. “It wasn't my fault.”

Be more careful, the boy told her at the exact moment the creature met the girl's gaze and said, I know. I’ll protect you.

“I told you,” said a seventeen year old boy as he gripped a sixteenth year old's skirts. “I’ll protect you from your papa.”

You know he can’t, Cathy, The auburn creature said, standing over the boy's shoulder as she held the girl’s green-eyed gaze. I’ll protect you from them both.

The blonde trembled. “Promise?”

With all the power of the forest and the sea. I promise.

She was there, always there. She did all she could to keep her promise. But it seemed even she was limited in her abilities.

Jake watched Harold and Catherine's life play out once more. As the twenty plus years faded together, the moments of tender love vanished. The fights were more frequent, more aggressive than Harold let on. He stumbled home in the dark more than once, eyes bloodshot and words slurred. There were many years of fights and screams. Fists were thrown and bones were broken. And the red-head was there through it all, helping as best as she could. She cared for Cathy, tried to protect her, but it wasn’t enough.

Run away with me, Cathy. It's the only way.

And run she did.

It wasn’t a laugh that called Catherine to the forest that day in the garden as Harold’s raging voice bellowed off the walls of the house. No, it was not a laugh at all, but her name, spoken in bells and chimes, love and warmth.

Catherine stepped over the threshold of the forest, laughter on her lips, as she jumped into the arms of the beautiful red-headed fairy.

She didn’t leave, wasn’t taken. She willingly left her delusional old life for one of magic and wonder and respect.

Jake stumbled back a step, shaking off the hand of the creature before him. His head was spinning, his stomach turned and his vision blurred as he truly saw the two ladies before him. As he noticed the glow around them, the electricity that danced in their wake.

This town, these people… how could anyone let a woman suffer as Catherine did and not do anything? How could they not see what was right in front of them?

And these creatures, the fairies, Harold painted them as the demons and yet, this fairy was Catherine’s saving grace, her lover, her protector...

They shared a look, the two lovers, before turning back to him. They didn’t say another word as the fairy smiled at Jake, white teeth flashing, and blew him a kiss. They turned to leave, Catherine giving him a wink over her shoulder, before disappearing into their hotel room. Right next door to his.

Jake stumbled as fast as he could to his room, slamming the door behind him as he tried to catch his breath and will his mind to understand what the hell was going on.

It took him a few moments to realize, for the first time all night, he was completely dry.

----------

Light had yet to transform the morning sky when Jake sped out of the Beaumont Motel parking lot. The rain had stopped and the winds were whisked away. Grey clouds lingered in the sky, suffocating the rising sun on the horizon.

What was once a piece of art to Jake was now the ugliest thing he had ever seen.

The mountain reached its claws to the sky, holding all the trees and buildings in the palm of its hand. The roads swerved in and out of its fingers, weather-worn homes running up the forest-speckled hills, trying to escape. The ocean leaped for joy as it played with the rocky cliffs, trying to capture and destroy anything it could reach. The boats bobbed in the water, begging to be let free, while the docks pointed their fingers to the open sea, luring in any desperate and lonely souls to the corrupt town.

The ocean was painted an angry blue against the grey light. The white-capped waves pounded against anything in their way. What Jake once thought was a place of harmony, he realized now, was an illusion.

The image had been shattered, broken beyond repair.

The land had won after all, he realized now. It had conquered Higdon’s Harbour and all within it. There was no agreement, no compromise to live in peace. For nothing could truly defeat nature.

The land cackled against the last remains of the raging storm winds. For it knew the game it was playing; it knew who truly ruled the town. And it was not man.

Jake made it out before the first kitchen light flickered on. Before the inhabitants of Higdon’s Harbour woke and started about their delusional lives. His heart pounded in his chest the whole way, hands shaking as they gripped his steering wheel. Even when he passed the city line, his body refused to relax. Not as the sound of chimes echoed on and on and on in his head.

By the time Jake remembered Harold, he was long gone. And he was too far out to turn back. Too far out to hear the news, or see the headline of the Higdon’s Harbour newspaper that morning. And to hear the otherworldly laugh that accompanied it.

Man Crashes Boat Off Rocky Cliffs In Desperate Search Of His Wife.

#oringinal character #original writing #original story #fairies #tog #acotar #fanfiction #tog fanfic #tog fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #cas writing #personal

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h3rmitsunited-art · 3 years

Photo

The Inconvenience Store

By chopwood (that’s me!)

Read On Ao3

Todd works the night shift at his boring job at the KwikMart. During the night shift, he can expect to see the regulars, drunks, half-drunks, cold homeless people, and truckers, but tonight, he runs into a different crowd; a strange injured man claiming that he’s “not psychic” and the group of intimidating military men that are on the hunt for him. Todd gives him some help and conversation.

Trigger warning for mentions of blood/injury/needles.

"...and 2.35 is your change," Todd said as he placed the wrinkled bills and coins in the hand of the tired looking man at the counter. The man nodded and grumbled some sort of acknowledgement before snatching his plastic bag from Todd’s hand and walking out the door.

Todd sighed and glanced up at the clock for the hundredth time in the past hour. Despite feeling like it’d been a long time since the last time he looked at the clock, it had only been two minutes. He had a theory that time just moved slower in this store, that it was on one of those like ghost lines or built on top of some alien testing facility because his shifts always seemed to last an eternity. He'd finished cleaning and restocking an hour ago, and there were still four hours to go, so he did as he usually did, and grabbed his notebook from under the counter and continued drafting up random song ideas and doodling on the pages. He sat quietly on his stool behind the register working in his notebook for awhile when there was a sudden thud at the door. Todd flinched and looked up to see a wild-eyed man standing in the store, looking back toward the parking lot nervously.

"Uh-" Todd started. It was definitely not the strangest person he'd seen working the night shift, not even close to the strangest. This area tended to get a lot of weirdos, but he knew from experience that it was the panicked ones that caused the most problems, and this guy seemed like he was going to cause some problems. He rushed past the register, mumbling nervously and looking frantically around the store. Todd made a mental note of his appearance as he walked past, a habit that he’d formed due to the number of police reports he’s had to make on other people that come into the store causing issues. The man’s face was a splotchy dirty mess and his hair stuck out wildly in matted clumps. Todd could see red stains on his hands as he walked past... and he desperately hoped this guy wasn't some murderer here for a slushee after killing a bunch of people. He seemed to suddenly realize Todd's presence behind the counter, and his eyes lit up, darting between the dark parking lot and Todd. He quickly rounded the corner, and before Todd could react, he ducked around the back of the stool and curled up by Todd's feet. Todd jumped up in surprise and confusion.

"No. No, no, no. You gotta get out of here, man. You can't be behind the counter!" Todd groaned internally. He was really hoping for a quiet night to just work on some songs, and not have to deal with some insane dude trying to… well, do something… didn’t seem like he was trying to rob him, but… this definitely wasn’t the typical KwikMart customer behavior. The man made no efforts to follow Todd’s instructions, and just shook his head, eyes wide, and brought his finger to his lips.

"I'm not here. Please. I just... Don't tell them I'm here." Todd immediately noticed the British accent, just as much out of place in the area as his strange appearance, as well as the unmasked terror in the man’s eyes. Todd was distracted from the man by blinding headlights that pulled up in the parking lot. A loud engine shut off outside and Todd could sort of make out the shape of a large black van that had parked outside. He looked back down at the man, who was staring up at him, desperate and pleading, shaking his head, and pressing himself in closer to the counter like he was trying to disappear.

“I’m not getting involved, dude. Come on, you really need to go.”

"Please,” the man said, his eyes shining with tears of desperation. “Please, you don't have to get involved. Just don’t tell them I’m here. I promise. Nothing more than that. Just... you know, let me hide back here... oh! Better yet, do you have like a back room or something, or like a large box, or maybe a trap door that leads to some hidden cellar?" He started picking at the edges of the tiles on the floor like he was expecting the floor to pop up. Todd rolled his eyes and turned back to the black van outside. No one had gotten out yet, but he could see the shadows of movement through the windshield. He glanced at the silent alarm under the counter, reaching out towards it.

"Don’t,” the man said, seeming to realize his intentions, a warning tone to his voice. “The police can't help. I know how that sounds, but they'll just make it worse. Please." The man laid a hand on Todd's pant leg, tugging it slightly. Todd rolled his eyes and sighed. He turned around. He'd left a large empty cardboard box on the counter behind him, from when he'd finished restocking the chips, intending to take it out to the dumpster later. He, as casually and nonchalantly as he could, picked it up and laid it over the man, hopefully covering him from anyone who walked past or looked over the counter. He heard a muffled thank you from under the box and he started to make a show of cleaning the counter off. Just totally normal, not suspicious, night shift clerk activities. The sound of the van door slamming shut made his heart jump, and he struggled to keep his hands from shaking as he wiped the cardboard dust off the back counter. The front door creaked as it opened and the bell jingled.

Just breathe, Todd.

He turned to see three men file in one after the other, clad in black body armor, all with very stiff postures. They didn't acknowledge Todd as they walked in. The man in the front cocked his head to the right, and the man behind him started down the aisles, and then he cocked it to the left, and the third man walked quickly towards the refrigerators and aisles behind where the register counter was. Todd could hear him open one of the refrigerators, and he glanced back to see him taking out some water bottles. Todd watched them cautiously, trying to keep his heart under control. The first man arrived at the counter, finally seeming to register that a human person was standing behind the counter. Todd shifted nervously under his intense stare.

"Had any... strange customers tonight,"-he looked down at Todd's nametag and then back up at his face- "Todd?" Todd glanced around at the other man still circling the aisles in front of him. He looked back to the one at the counter and furrowed his brows, making a show of thinking intently, and then shrugged.

"Can you be more specific? Most of the people that come here at night, I’d say are all somewhat strange... Drunks, druggies, prostitutes, homeless people…etcetera etcetera…” Todd felt like he was talking way too fast... or too slow... or too much. He felt the strange man's presence, through the thin barrier of the cardboard box next to his leg, weighing heavily on his entire body, like it was emitting some sort of heightened gravity field. The man in black, leaning over the counter, didn't seem to like his answer. He glared at Todd, clenching his jaw, before reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a folded paper. He unfolded it, smoothing it out on the counter and pushed it towards Todd. It was a bit grainy and blurred, looking a bit like one of those pictures the paparazzi would take of celebrities in their backyards using those huge zoom lenses, but Todd could tell it was supposed to be the man he had hiding under the box next to him. He looked just as scared in the picture, a little bit cleaner and more put together, wearing the same bright yellow jacket and standing in some doorway.

"We’re looking for this guy. You seen anyone like him come around here?" Todd leaned in closer to the picture, squinting at it slightly. His mind was racing, thoughts just telling him, don’t get involved. Just tell them. It’s not your problem. Just say it. He’s under the box. Take him. You don’t need to deal with this shit. Todd clenched his jaw and slowly shook his head.

"I don’t think so. Doesn’t really seem familiar. Why? Is he dangerous or something?" Idiot. What the hell are you thinking? Why didn’t you just tell them? Why are you lying to these guys? Todd swallowed thickly, glancing down at the holster on the man in front of him, and then back up, hoping the man didn’t notice.

"Extremely. If you see him, don't engage, don't talk to him. Just call us immediately." The man folded the picture and shoved it back into his pocket just as one of the other men joined behind him. He sat a bunch of water bottles on the counter, which Todd nervously started to ring up. Todd heard footsteps next to him as the third man walked past the open end of the counter. Todd could see him eyeing the cardboard box, and felt his entire body clenching. He forced himself to focus on the water bottles, hoping he wasn’t being extremely obvious with how nervous he was.

“That’s $15.67 for the waters,” Todd said, tightly.

The man pulled a wallet out of his pocket, revealing a military ID, and grabbed a twenty and a business card out of it and handed them both to Todd. The business card was blank apart from a phone number.

“Keep the change and call us if you think of anything.” Todd nodded, finished up the transaction and bagging the water bottles.

The third man finally came around the counter, shaking his head at the other two. Todd felt his muscles relax just slightly. The one that brought up the water bottles grabbed the bag without looking at Todd.

"Have a nice night." The three men didn't respond. They turned, walking back out to their van, the doors slamming shut loud enough that it made Todd jump slightly. He heard the cardboard start to shuffle on the floor, and Todd tapped it with his foot, and brought and hand up to his mouth pretending to cough. "They're still out there."

Todd tried to busy himself with cleaning the counter and checking over the register, keeping the van in his peripheral. It was almost five minutes before the van finally pulled away and the sound of the roaring engine faded back to silence. Todd let out a deep shaky breath. He reached down and pulled the box off the man on the floor. The man flinched back at first before realizing it was still Todd, and then he relaxed, leaning back into counter behind him, sighing in relief. He shut his eyes and wrapped an arm around his stomach. After a moment, he opened his eyes again, leaning forward and readjusting his position, wincing slightly. He looked up at Todd, giving him a tight smile.

“Sorry about that. Thanks for not… you know…” He tugged his jacket tighter around his chest, wincing again. Todd caught a glimpse of a dark red patch on the white fabric of his shirt as he adjusted his jacket. He shifted again, and flinched, hissing in pain.

“You’re hurt," Todd said with a frown. He wasn't sure if he should care, or if this is what he should be caring about right now, as opposed to the intimidating, gun-toting, body-armor-wearing men that were searching for this reportedly extremely dangerous man… though he doesn't exactly look dangerous, and Todd knows how to clean a wound... so... he supposed the rest is a problem for later, at least once he was sure this man wasn’t going to die in the next couple minutes hiding behind his counter. At Todd’s remark, the man’s expression shifted. He looked surprised, like he'd expected to be quickly shoved out the door, and definitely not expecting the notes of concern in Todd's voice. He tried to shrug, but the movement pulled on whatever wound he was hiding and he hissed again. Todd raised an eyebrow and sighed, grabbing the first aid kit from under the counter. He shoved his stool out of the way and knelt down next to the man on the floor. He was watching him quietly, his arm covering up his stomach where Todd had seen the patch of blood.

"I’m alright. You’ve done enough, honestly. I just need to go and-" Todd held up his hand, cutting off his sentence.

"I’m just guessing by the fact you weren’t interested in getting the cops involved that you’re also not going to be making your way to the hospital after leaving here, so would you just let me see? It would be a shame if I just lied to those guys and you go and bleed out after you leave here." The man pressed his lips together, looking away from Todd.

"They weren't lying. About me." Todd frowned, shaking his head.

"Lying about what?"

"That I'm a danger. To you, to anyone. I get people killed. You shouldn't..." He sighed, resigned. "I shouldn't have come in here." He dropped his face into his hands and shook his head. "I'm sorry. Shit. I’m really sorry,” he mumbled into his hands. “You're being all nice and everything, and now you're involved, and I don't..." He couldn't see, but Todd was pretty sure by the way his breathing changed and the soft shake of his shoulder, that the man was crying. Bleeding wounds, Todd could handle, but crying... he really wasn’t equipped with the right stuff to deal with that. He rested a hand on the man’s shoulder, patting it twice.

"Um... hey. Look, it's fine. I mean, it’s not like…fine, but like, I don't know... look, it's gonna be alright, man, just, you don’t need to like… cry…” Todd looked around as though there would be something or somebody that could help him deal with whatever this situation was. He spotted the drink machines behind him, and looked back at the man who still had his head in his hands. “You want like a slushee or something?" He heard the man sniffle a little. He shook his head. Todd's legs started to cramp from the way he was squatting, so he sat down, crossing his legs. He noticed the man peek out between his fingers at the movement. "I'm Todd, by the way. You have a name?" The man looked up now, his eyes rimmed red, and dropped his hands into his lap.

"It's, uh… it’s Dirk? Dirk. My name is Dirk. Dirk Gently.” The repetition made Todd a bit more suspicious, but Dirk seemed like he was relaxing a little more, so he waved it off for now.

“Nice to meet you, Dirk.” Dirk gave him a small smile, nodding.

“Same to you, Todd.”

"Who were those guys anyways?" Todd eyed the security monitor on the register, the parking lot was still empty. The adrenaline was draining out of his muscles and he was suddenly feeling a lot more tired than he had ten minutes ago. Dirk eyed him carefully at the question.

"It's a long story." Todd shrugged and glanced around the store.

"Not like I have anything better to do…" He raised an eyebrow. Dirk smiled, but it fell off his face quickly, and he let out a heavy sigh and shook his head.

"No. I should really go. You’re already in danger just by hiding me, and knowing more would just make things worse.”

“I mean they’ll probably already assume I know something if they found out what I lied to them anyways, so I’d say it’d just give me a chance to prepare in case they do come after me, right?” Dirk frowned, but he seemed like he was considering it.

“That’s not… I mean…”

"They're government something, right? Military?" Dirk looked up at him, surprised. Todd shrugged. "I saw one of their IDs.” Dirk pressed his lips together and sighed.

"They're CIA."

"CIA? Like ‘CIA’ CIA?" Dirk raised an eyebrow as in to say, 'yes, Todd, that is what I just said, pay attention.' Todd disregarded this expression and continued his incredulous interrogation. "What does the CIA want with you? And why'd they say you're dangerous?"

"I am dangerous, and as I said before it’s a long story. And complicated. And dangerous.” Todd rolled his eyes again.

“Come on, why don’t you just let me check what’s going on with all that,” he said pointing at the blood stains, "and you can explain why you just risked my life coming in here. It's the least you can do." That seemed to break the last barrier on Dirk’s resolve and he shook his head one more time before speaking.

"Fine. But just because I’m pretty sure I have lost a fair amount of blood and I really don’t have the energy right now to argue.” Dirk’s fingers tightened around his jacket, as Todd leaned forward. Todd gave him a gentle look and Dirk let out a breath, and then slowly shifted the left half of his jacket to the side. Todd could now see the dark patch of wet blood soaked into his white button-down. The shirt clung to his skin around a long, but, hopefully, shallow scratch that ran across Dirk’s side. Dirk licked across his lips nervously.

“You’re going to need to take the jacket and the shirt off, so I can get that cleaned up enough to see what the damage is.” Dirk clenching his jaw, but nodded. He winced as he shifted to take the jacket off, and Todd leaned forward more to help him get the sleeves over his shoulders. Dirk looked surprised again at his concern, but accepted the help, and Todd sat the dirty, yellow jacket aside after a minute of maneuvering to get it off.

Dirk started to unbutton the shirt when the door jingled. They both froze, and Todd's eyes shot to the security monitor. There were still no cars in the parking lot. No sign of the black van. Todd gave Dirk a look that said ‘stay here’, and slowly stood up from the floor to immediately see a tired looking man with a scraggly beard standing in front of the chip display a few feet away. He looked over, seeming slightly confused and surprised to see Todd standing behind the counter that had been empty when he walked in, but then shook his head, and started to wander back through the aisles. Todd sighed.

"It's just some guy. It's not them," he whispered down at his feet. He could see Dirk relax in his peripheral vision. The man finished grabbing his items, shoved a crinkled five dollar bill at Todd, took his change and left. Once he was out of sight on the security monitor, Todd returned to sit by Dirk on the floor. "You okay?" Dirk nodded, but Todd could see his expression was tense, and knew he was lying. Dirk untucked his shirt from his pants and started fumbling with the buttons again.

“So, the CIA…” Todd started, trying to prompt the conversation that had gotten cut off. Dirk nodded absently, his concentration entirely taken by his fingers slipping and shaking as he struggled to unbutton his shirt. Todd sighed, leaning forward and gently batting his hands away. Dirk huffed, but allowed Todd to step in. "Dirk?"

“What?”

“You were going to tell me what the hell is going on?” Todd reminded him, as he made it halfway down Dirk’s shirt. The buttons near the bottom were smudged with dried blood. Todd could see matching stains covering Dirk's hands, and felt his stomach tighten.

“Right,” Dirk started. “The CIA…” He paused, trying to figure out where to start. “So, I’m… like… a thing. Like a special sort of like… person, sort of thing? I don't know really how to explain it, and I don’t even understand why I can do what I do, but things just sort of happen to me when they're supposed to happen, and it lets me do things that seem sort of… impossible, I guess?”

“What do you mean impossible?” Todd glanced up as he finished unbuttoning Dirk’s shirt before he started working on carefully peeling the fabric from his skin and wound without hurting him too much.

“Maybe more… improbable, or… incredibly unlikely, or supernaturally coincidental. Not like impossible like… being able to fly or something crazy like that. I’m not like Superb-man.” Todd paused, trying to take in what Dirk was trying to say, getting caught up only on the last thing.

“Superman?”

“No, not him either,” Dirk answered, flippantly. “Anyways, the CIA, they had this division, Blackwing, that sort of collected people that had these special things like me… but not really like me exactly. Different sorts of things. They thought they could use… our things to help them with… whatever they wanted to use them for, I guess.” Dirk paused, hissing as Todd worked on peeling the fabric off the dried edges of the wound. Todd’s face scrunched up apologetically. Dirk took a breath and continued, his voice tighter. “They wanted me to figure out how to control what I could do, so they put me through all these stupid tests and experiments, but they could never get anything they tried to work, and I just couldn’t control it, no matter how much they pushed me. They kept us there, for years, locked up. I mean, it was just... awful. So, a few of the other subjects and I made an escape and I’ve been on the run ever since.”

“Control what exactly? What is the… thing? What do you do?” Todd looked up at him, moving his hands to his lap for a moment, which gave Dirk a reprieve from the pain from the peeling as he thought about his answer to Todd’s question.

“I’m a holistic detective… or at least that’s what I call it. Blackwing thought that I was psychic, which I guess to other people it might seem that way, but I’m not really… psychic. I don’t have any special powers or magic or whatever. The universe sort of just sets things up for me to end up where I’m supposed to be, to know what I need to know, to meet who I need to meet, so that I can… help people. Ever since I can remember, I’ve just gotten these… hunches. Signs and signals from the universe I never really truly understand, but nobody else knows about, and it always sort of leads me to the answer to what I’m supposed to solve.”

“That sounds like… nothing. You are just… where you’re supposed to be all the time, and you solve things? I mean you could just say that about anyone. That you're just where you're supposed to be all the time because if you weren't where you were supposed to be then you wouldn't be there, right?" Dirk huffed, slightly frustrated that Todd wasn’t just immediately understanding what he was trying to say.

“It’s not… nothing, Todd. And it’s… well it’s hard to explain. I mean when Blackwing first brought me in, it was because I was in the news in my town for finding thirty lost pets in one month. Five of them had been lost for over six years… and I hadn’t even been looking for any of them. I just… ended up coming across them where they were because of random, but not random things that happened to me. Coincidences and happenstances that seemed unconnected at first, but actually were all connected. It got me into a lot of trouble though. My mother was always so upset with me because of how much I wandered off and got into things I wasn't supposed to… which I think was part of why she let them take me.” Todd frowned, finishing getting the last of Dirk’s shirt peeled off of his skin, and helped get the shirt over Dirk’s shoulders like he had with his jacket. He sat the bloody shirt behind his back, and took a moment to glance back up at the security monitor. Still nothing in the parking lot. Dirk was quiet as he watched Todd pull some of the supplies out of the first aid kit. Todd picked out a packet of pain medication and offered it to Dirk.

“Here, these should help a little with the pain.” Dirk nodded and took the packet from him. Todd handed him a water bottle from under the counter, and thought about what Dirk had said while Dirk took the pills. “Wait, your mother… how old were you when you went into Blackwing?” Todd asked, feeling the uncomfortable tightening in his stomach again.

“Seven. I was seven when they took me in,” Dirk answered quietly.

“Shit,” Todd said, his voice hushed, shaking his head in disbelief. Dirk nodded, letting out a heavy sigh. Todd shifted closer, so that his leg pressed up against the side of Dirk’s thigh. It was tight behind the counter, and Todd realized this was probably the closest he had been to another person in a long time. He bit down the strange emotions that crept up in the wake of that thought, and forced himself to focus. Dirk had started talking again.

“- was there for eight years before I escaped. I’ve been out, all over the place, trying to make some sort of a life for myself, not really succeeding, but then six months ago, they show up, trashing the apartment I’d been staying in, and nearly grabbing me in the process. I managed to get far enough away that they hadn’t gotten that close until this past week. I really thought I wasn’t going to get away tonight…especially after this…” he said, motioning towards the gash in his side.

Dirk was still wearing an undershirt, just as blood soaked as his button-down had been, but tighter. It seemed like it’d be more of a challenge to pull off over his head without stretching the wound too much. Todd frowned.

“It’s going to be a bit tricky to get this off, but I’ve got some scissors. Do you mind if I just cut it off?” Dirk opened his mouth and then closed it again, seeming a bit uncomfortable. He reached down and tugged up the bottom of the undershirt, folding it up over the top of his chest so the wound was more exposed now. He looked up at Todd and raised an eyebrow.

“Does that work? I just… I’d prefer to leave at least something on…” he said, his voice slightly shaky. Dirk’s expression was open and vulnerable, as he spoke. He smirked and added, “At least until we get to know each other a little better.” Todd smiled back and nodded, working the edge of the shirt up a little further. Dirk seemed relieved. Todd started cleaning off the dried blood coating Dirk’s stomach. The reality of their closeness was crashing down on him again. He could hear the Dirk’s soft intake of breath as he pressed the cold wipe against his skin, and swallowed thickly.

“Sorry, it’s cold,” he said quietly. Dirk shook his head.

“No, it’s… it’s fine. Just wasn’t expecting it.” Todd glanced up for a second to find Dirk was watching him curiously. Todd swallowed again and cleared his throat, looking back at Dirk’s injured side.

“So, did they do this to you?” Todd asked. He finished cleaning the blood from his skin and started working on cleaning out the wound. Dirk shook his head.

“Uh, no. That was… well, I mean sort of… indirectly, I guess, but I mean, everything is connected, so then yes, this was absolutely their fault…because if they weren’t-”

“Dirk.” Todd said, pulling him out of his rambling.

“Right, no. I was trying to get over a fence with some of those… like pointed tops on them and slipped a bit and it scratched me up pretty good. Didn’t make it over the fence, but I discovered shortly after, while I was running the perimeter of the fence, that there were actually a couple of very vicious and hungry looking dogs behind the fence that probably would have taken some chunks out of me, so I suppose this was the preferable outcome…” Todd raised an eyebrow at him. Dirk shrugged. “Not really preferable to not being injured at all, but preferable to the whole… dog mauling bit.” Dirk pressed his lips together, looking down at Todd’s fingers working deftly on cleaning the wound. “Is it bad? It feels bad.” Todd shook his head, putting his most reassuring expression on.

“It’s not that deep, which is good. As long as that fence post wasn’t rusty, and you’re up to date on your tetanus shots… it should be okay. I’ll need to give you a couple stitches so it heals properly though.” Dirk frowned, his eyes widening.

“Stitches? Are you sure that’s necessary?” Todd nodded, looking through the first aid kit. Dirk pressed his lips together. “It’ll probably be alright with just like… a bandage or something. You don’t have to get the-” Todd pulled out the needles and suture thread from the first aid kit and Dirk stopped talking, starting to shift away. Todd looked over at him, concerned, and frowned.

“You okay?” Dirk was still eyeing the needle in his hand. Todd lowered it back down. “Honestly, they’re not that bad. I’m not like a nurse, but I used to work in a sketchy club and I got really good at giving stitches. Not bragging, but people said that they could barely even feel it.” Dirk sighed. “Though I’m pretty sure most of them were on some sort of drugs at the time…” Dirk frowned deeper.

“Todd!” Todd shrugged.

“I mean they’re going to hurt, but it’s better than dying from an infection from having a gaping open wound in your side, right?” Dirk rolled his eyes.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Todd nodded confidently. Dirk sighed.

“Alright… I guess. Do your thing then…” Todd gave him a small smile.

“Okay. You’re going to need to lay down, though. I can’t really get to you when you’re sitting like that.” Todd grabbed the yellow jacket from behind him as Dirk started to shift into a laying position on the ground. He scrunched it into a ball and shoved it under Dirk’s head.

“Thanks,” he said and smiled. “Is this okay?”

Dirk was laid out, his feet stretching to the other end of the counter, his stomach exposed, his wound open and still oozing blood. He looked up at Todd nervously, his hands fidgeting at his sides. Todd nodded quietly and scooted forward. His leg pressed against Dirk’s arm and he could feel his hand moving near his ankle. Todd wiped over the wound again, making sure it was clean and then held the suture needle over Dirk’s stomach. He felt Dirk’s hand turn and wrap around his leg, gripping him tightly, and he turned to see Dirk had squeezed his eyes closed, his muscles tense.

“Relax. Just breathe, Dirk.” Dirk gave him a tight nod, but kept his eyes closed. Todd started working carefully, softly apologizing at Dirk’s hiss of pain as the needle went in. Without thinking, he started humming a song quietly, and continued, quickly and gently stitching up the wound. Dirk was tense, his jaw clenched and hand tight on Todd’s leg, but he was quiet. Todd finished the stitches, clipping the end of the thread and wiping off the excess blood that had oozed out while he had been working, and carefully applied some ointment over it before grabbing a large bandage from the first aid kit and patting Dirk on the arm. “Stitches are all done. Just going to put a bandage on you and then you’ll be all set.” Dirk relaxed slightly, letting out a heavy breath.

“Oh, thank goodness,” he said shakily.

“You okay?” Dirk’s eyes opened slowly and he nodded, looking over at Todd.

“That definitely did not feel good at all… but your song helped.” He smiled. “What was it?” Todd laid the bandage over the wound and started taping it across his side.

“It was one I wrote. From my old band. Music helps me concentrate.”

“It was nice.”

“Thanks,” Todd said, not sure what else to say to that. Dirk was still looking over at him intently, and Todd was starting to feel like he was an animal in the zoo or something, unused to the constant eyes on him. He cleared his throat as he finished smoothing over the tape. “There. You’re all set.” Dirk glanced down with a strained smile.

“Thank you, Todd. For this… and you know.. before. Honestly. Thank you.” Todd nodded. Dirk sat up carefully, wincing at bit. He pointed at the bloody shirt on the floor behind Todd. “Could you hand me my shirt?” Todd turned and grabbed it, but hesitated before handing it back.

“This thing is covered in blood, you really wanna put this back on?” Dirk shrugged, reaching for it.

“Not really… but it’s not like I have any other options right now. I unfortunately didn’t have time to pack my whole closet with me.”

That weird feeling was coming up in Todd’s stomach again. You don’t care. This is just... some guy. Some weird guy you just randomly decided to stitch up on the floor behind the register and lie to the CIA for... just because... Todd groaned and shook his head, pulling the bloody shirt away from Dirk’s reach and tossing it into the trash can under the counter. Dirk squawked in protest. Todd quickly pulled off his work vest and started to unbutton his flannel shirt.

“Todd! That was my sh- what are you doing?” Todd shook his head, resigned and confused as to why he was currently doing what he was doing, but he was doing it, and he wasn’t going to explain to Dirk or to himself or anyone why. He finished unbuttoning and pulled the flannel off. He still had a black t-shirt on underneath and held out the flannel to Dirk without saying anything. Dirk frowned at it. “Todd, you don’t need to give me your shirt. I can wear the other one, it’s alright. You’ve done more than enough.”

“Dirk, just-” He pushed the shirt towards him again. Dirk huffed at him, grabbing it out of his hand like he was doing Todd a favor. He started pulling it over his arm as Todd put his work vest back on. Dirk started struggling to get it on over his other arm, but was trying not to be obvious about it. Todd sighed, leaning forward, and reaching to grab the end of the sleeve, so Dirk could get his arm in. Dirk huffed again, rolling his eyes, but pushed his arm through. Todd looked down at the bloody undershirt still bunched up on Dirk’s chest and frowned. “You should really take that thing off. It’s pretty gross.” Dirk wiped a hand over the fabric and tugged it back down over his stomach.

“It’s not that bad.” His hand came away smudged with blood and he narrowed his eyes. “Maybe it is a little gross.” Todd turned around, opening a drawer and grabbing out a pair of scissors, and turned back raising his eyebrows at Dirk, who nodded. Todd grabbed the front of the undershirt and started cutting up through the fabric, slowed by how dull the scissors were.

“Sorry, they’re kind of old scissors…” Todd adjusted his grip, squeezing hard as the blades twisted in the fabric. “Maybe I should grab one of our box cutters.” Dirk laughed briefly before gasping, going suddenly quiet. Todd looked up at him to see him looking up at the counter, and turned to see a woman standing at the register, looking bored and a bit irritated. She held up a pack of beer.

“If you’re done trying to undress each other, would ya ring me up? I need a pack of cigarettes too.” Todd dropped the scissors, standing quickly and wiping his hands on his pants frantically.

“Uh, yes, sorry.” He quickly looked to the security monitor, just one car parked at the front. No big scary vans. The store seemed to be empty other than the somewhat scantily clad woman. He grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the locked display behind him and finished dealing with her order. She smirked at Todd and looked down at Dirk before heading out the door and driving away. Todd turned back around and Dirk was buttoning up his borrowed shirt. Todd took one more look around before sitting back down on the floor.

“I should go,” Dirk said without looking up. Todd frowned.

“What? What if those guys are out there? Where are you even going to go?” Dirk shrugged. He finished buttoning the shirt and dropped his hands in his lap.

“Wherever I’m supposed to go. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter,” Dirk said with a huff. “I’ve put you in enough danger.” Dirk started to push himself off the floor, but Todd pressed a hand on his leg, keeping him from getting up.

“Stop, just… Dirk, listen. Why don’t you come back to my apartment? When I’m done with my shift. You can take a shower and sleep and take a minute to figure out where you’re going to go next when it’s not… 3am.” Dirk frowned.

“No… wait, what? Why? Why would you… why would you do that?” Todd shrugged.

“I don’t know. It just… seems like you need a break?” That answer seemed to make Dirk more upset and he pushed Todd’s hand away.

“That's not... You're working with them, aren't you? You're trying to get me to stay here, to leave with you...” His eyes grew wider. Todd backed up, and shook his head.

“What? No. Why would I be with them?” Dirk shrugged, waving his arms in front of him.

“I don’t know?! You could be pretending to help me to get me to let my guard down, trying to get me to trust you or something?" Dirk pushed back into the counter more, trying to get further from Todd.

"You realize that doesn't make any sense, right? Why would I hide you from other the Blackwing guys, help patch you up, and stay working here another couple hours to trick you to trust me, so that I can then take you to Blackwing?" Dirk frowned. He seemed to understand that it wasn't really logical, but he still stayed pressed up in the corner, wrapping an arm around his stomach.

"I’m not… I can take care of myself, okay?” Todd shrugged and shook his head.

“Okay. I’m not trying to say you can’t. And I swear, I’m not with those guys. I’m just… I’m just some nothing cashier trying to help. No ulterior motives.” Todd was surprised how genuine the words came to him. Dirk seemed to relax a little more.

“People don’t… they don't just do that. Put themselves at risk to help weird bloody guys.” Todd shrugged. Dirk narrowed his eyes at him. “You promise you’re not working for Blackwing?” Todd cocked his head to the side.

“Yes. I promise.” Dirk pressed his lips together. He held up his hand, popping up his pinky.

“Pinky promise?” Todd huffed a laugh through his nose and rolled his eyes. Dirk’s expression stayed serious. Todd wrapped his pinky around Dirk’s.

“Pinky promise. I’m not working for Blackwing.” Dirk sighed and nodded.

“Good…” He smiled, sheepishly. “Sorry, it’s been… well, you know… trauma and being imprisoned and chased and all that… trust issues.” Todd nodded and smiled back.

“It’s fine.” Todd leaned back against the cabinet behind him and sighed. He looked over at Dirk and frowned. “So, if you have that whole holistic, be where you’re supposed to be thing, how come you can’t use it to keep away from those guys? Shouldn’t it like lead you to safety?”

“You’d think so, but it’s not usually an… in my favor sort of thing. As you could probably tell by the hole in my side.”

“And the CIA gun guys chasing you?”

“Yeah, and that.” Dirk yawned, he shifted so he was sitting along the back cabinets too where he could see the security monitor. His leg brushed up against Todd’s, and, once again, Todd was aware of how close he was. “What was your band’s name?” It took Todd a second to catch up. He glanced over and Dirk was looking at him intently again.

“Uh, it was called Mexican Funeral.” Dirk cocked his head.

“Mexican Funeral?” Todd smiled and quirked an eyebrow up, nodding.

“Yeah. I don’t really remember how we came up with the name. It was written on a napkin one night after my friends and I had gone out and gotten just completely wasted. We’d been talking about starting up a band, and then it was just there. We were…pretty good.”

“What happened?” Todd sighed.

“I fucked everything up.” Todd folded his legs to his chest, resting his arms on his knees. He shook his head. “I’m not… I’m kind of… like a huge asshole.” Dirk laughed, and Todd shot him a sharp look.

“Sorry, but you literally gave me the shirt off of your back tonight. That doesn’t really seem like something a ‘huge asshole’ would do.” Todd rolled his eyes, frustrated.

“Yeah, well, I’d hope that I’m not as much of an asshole that I was back then. I’ve tried to be…better… I guess? Stuff with my sister, with my family really messed me up.” Dirk didn’t say anything. He leaned closer, and Todd felt the press of his arm against his own, and helped. “I just… I don’t know, I’d hope that if they ever wanted to see me again, they could see that I’ve gotten better, but I’m just… I’m a broke cashier living in a shitty studio apartment with nobody and nothing.”

“Well, you’re at least doing better than me. You’re not the one that nearly impaled their intestines on a fence a few hours ago.” Todd laughed.

“I guess that’s true.” He heard Dirk yawn again, and the press of his arm on Todd’s side grew heavier, and he felt Dirk’s head drop onto his shoulder. “Dirk? You okay?” Dirk nodded into his neck, his hair tickling over his skin.

“Mmm? Yeah. Just tired,” he said quietly. “Todd?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you… could you hum that song from earlier?” His voice was so quiet that he could barely make out what he’d said, even with his mouth only a few inches from his ear. Todd nodded.

“Yeah, why not…” Todd started softly humming the song again. He kept humming even when he heard Dirk start snoring on his shoulder. After a while, Dirk’s hands started wandering, wrapping around Todd’s arm, hugging it to his chest. Todd sighed, the tired resignation just letting all this happen, and kept his eyes on the security monitor.

The rest of Todd's shift dragged on. There were still two hours until the next shift would come to relieve him. The first hour after Dirk passed out, clinging to his arm, he stayed on the floor, trying to shift around to keep his entire lower half from falling asleep. Dirk shifted after an hour, releasing his arm, and leaning into the corner of the counter, so Todd stood up, stretching out his sore muscles. He wandered around the store checking that everything was stocked and cleaned, but had the urge to get back behind the counter as quick as he could. He took a few minutes to clean up the first aid kit and wipe up any signs of the bloody mess that Dirk has left on the floor, and wrapped the trash and the bloody shirt he'd thrown away earlier in a couple plastic bags, and tucked it into his backpack. He was probably being a bit paranoid, but leaving bloody DNA evidence around was probably not the best idea.

At that thought, he turned back towards the sleeping man, taking the opportunity to take a closer look at him, now that he was asleep and quiet. He looked dirty and exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes, but also strangely well-kempt for someone on the run. There were smudges of some dark greasy substance across his neck and face, and some sticking in clumps of his reddish brown hair, and dirt powdered across his scalp and down his forehead, but he was clean shaven, hair, while dirty and a mess, looked like it had been nicely styled at some point, and the clothes he had been wearing were... not typical fugitive attire to say the least. A bright yellow leather jacket? Button down shirt? Nice brown leather shoes? He didn’t really seem like he knew what blending in means. He seemed a lot more inconspicuous wearing Todd’s flannel shirt. Todd picked up Dirk’s leather jacket from where it was still balled up on the floor and laid it over Dirk’s chest.

They made it through the last thirty minutes of Todd’s shift unscathed. He had a couple customers come in, nobody paying any attention to the soft sound of snores from behind the register, and Dirk didn't appear to shift at the sounds at all, continuing to sleep soundly on the cold tile floor. Todd sat on his stool checking and rechecking the security monitors for any sign of that big black van.

Finally, it was fifteen minutes before his shift was ending and the morning clerks would be showing up soon. Todd stretched up from his stool and tapped Dirk on the shoulder. Dirk groaned, squeezing his eyes tighter.

"Dirk." He groaned again and pulled his jacket over his head. Todd sighed. "Dirk, you need to wake up. My shift’s almost up. I’m going to need to hide you in the backroom or something. I don't want the other clerks to see you in case those guys come back and talk to them." Dirk mumbled something from under the jacket. Todd rolled his eyes. "What?" Dirk mumbled again and Todd yanked the jacket off his face and Dirk yelped, glaring at him. Todd raised an eyebrow.

"Goodness, no need for the violence… why don’t I just go out the front door?” Todd pressed his lips together tightly.

“You’re coming back to my apartment, remember? I parked behind the store, so it’ll be easier to get you out without being seen from the back.” Dirk huffed.

“Todd, I told you, I don’t want to put you in anymore danger.”

"It's fine. Just a couple hours, you can rest up, and then you can go." Todd ignored Dirk's continued protests, grabbing Dirk’s arm, and carefully helping him up from the floor. Dirk groaned, struggling to stand up, clutching his jacket to his chest, resigning to allow Todd to guide him away from the register. He hunched down, trying to keep out of view of the windows, and followed Todd through the door by the refrigerators that read 'Employees Only'. Todd led him back to a small supply closet with a mop bucket and cleaning supplies that smelled musty and wet, and waved him in. Dirk frowned and stared at him blankly. "Seriously?”

"The next shift is coming in like five to ten minutes. They clock in over there,"- he pointed at a grungy looking timeclock next to a shelf of time cards on the wall- "and they will see you if you're just hanging out back here. If they see you, and your friends come back in asking questions, then they will absolutely tell those guys. Because they're horrible. And they hate me, and everyone. And they'd probably laugh if I got shot by a bunch of crazy military agents of death." Dirk sighed and frowned, glaring in the tiny smelly closet.

"Can I at least use the toilet first?" Todd pointed across the small back room at a door marked 'employee bathroom'.

"I need to get back out there, but when you're done. In the closet. Got it?" Dirk nodded. Todd started to walk back to the door, but Dirk grabbed his arm and pulled him into a hug. Todd stiffened at first, confused by the sudden embrace, but then relaxed, wrapping his arms around him too. "Dirk?"

“Thank you, Todd.” Todd stroked over his back. Dirk shoved his head against Todd's shoulder, squeezing him tighter around his back.

“It’s alright," Todd said, still unsure of what was happening. Dirk's behavior had him getting a bit nervous, but there wasn't really time to deal with it. The day shift could be here any minute.

“I mean it. Just… thank you, okay? You’re not an asshole.” Dirk released the hug and wandered over to the bathroom. Todd frowned, watching the door close, and then returned to the front of the store.

He heard the toilet flush after a few minutes and the soft thud of a door closing and he was able to relax, just slightly, as he waited the last couple minutes. He watched the security monitors for any movements, and his eyes caught on the corner of the screen, causing his stomach to drop.

There in bright red. RECORDING.

Oh, fuck. Of course. If anyone sees that footage from last night.…

He saw the car of the day shift ladies pull past the back camera, disappearing into the blind spot behind the store, and his heart raced. He quickly scrolled through the security monitor menu, trying to remember the password for the saved recording folder. His boss had a horrible memory and he knew he had it written down around here somewhere. Todd heard the chime of the backdoor sensor and the sounds of laughing as the day shift ladies walked inside. He dug frantically through the drawers behind the register, finally finding the post it note with the password he was looking for. He entered it into the password pop up, and quickly deleted the file for the past 24 hours of recorded footage. He switched back over to the monitor screen just as the two ladies walked out, ignoring Todd, and shoving behind the counter. Usually, he'd be more bothered by their behavior, but he really just wanted to get out as quickly as possible. He rushed to count his drawer and close out, grabbed his backpack, and started heading to the back.

“Todd!” One of the ladies called out to him before he could reach the employee door. He stopped, turning back around, wondering what he had missed.

“Yeah?”

“Did the Pepsi guy drop off the deliveries last night?” Todd felt his muscles relax. He shook his head.

“Uh, no. They didn’t bring them.” She rolled her eyes, and turned back to the other clerk, apparently finished with Todd, and he took the opportunity rush through the door. He clocked out and ran to the supply closet and pulled the door open.

"Dirk, we-" He stopped, his voice cutting off as he saw inside the small room.

It was empty.

There was no Dirk.

Todd looked around, peering around the back shelves, but saw no sign that Dirk had been in there. He shut the door and rushed over to the bathroom. The door was already open, lights off, and, again, no Dirk. He felt like his stomach dropped down to the floor.

“Dirk?” He said in a hushed shout. There was nowhere else in the back that he could have gone. He hadn’t come through the front. Todd clenched his jaw, walking hesitantly toward the back door, not wanting to confirm his looming suspicions.

He walked out into the back alley, seeing his car, his coworkers car, the dumpster… and no sign of Dirk. Todd’s breath started to race and he shook his head.

“Dammit, Dirk.” He looked into the windows of both of the cars, and peeked inside the dumpster, but he already knew Dirk wasn’t going to be in any of them.

After a couple of minutes, desperately looking around, he finally gave in, accepting that Dirk had left. That strange hug, thanking Todd, he'd been saying good-bye, and Todd knew it, but hadn't wanted to, so he ignored it, and now, Todd wouldn’t ever know where he went or how he was or if he makes it away from those Blackwing guys. All he'd have is the blood covered shirt he had wrapped in plastic bags in his backpack and that card with the Blackwing guy’s phone number.

He let out a sigh that turned into a yawn and got into his car. It had been a long night.

He hoped that he’d catch a glimpse of bright yellow as he was driving back to his apartment, but other than the random school bus, there was no sign of that jacket. Not that day, not the next or the next...

A few days later, his boss called him, yelling about the missing security footage from his shift, and ranting about last chances and him not working out, and once again, he was unemployed.

Fortunately, Todd had seen some job posting about a bellboy position at a hotel downtown, so who knows… maybe that’ll be a little more exciting than being a cashier at the KwikMart… Only time will tell.

#dghda #Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency #dirk gently #Todd Brotzman #brotzly

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eggtoasties · 3 years

Text

socks of fate

Pairing: Sugawara Koushi/Reader

Rating: G

Summary: Maybe the red string of fate is actually cute patterned socks.

Word Count: 1.8k

AO3 Link: Here

__________________________________________________

Sugawara burrowed further into his jacket against the cold chill of early spring. He walked faster towards the café and relaxed his shoulders once he opened the door and basked in the warm heat. Looking around the coffee shop—light wood with brass fixtures, floor to ceiling windows admitting bright afternoon rays, and an abundance of greenery—he found Daichi and Asahi at a table against the side of the wall.

Catching their attention, Sugawara waved and headed towards them. It had been a while since they had all seen each other—busy with work and adult lives—but, they always made an effort to meet up at least once a month to catch up.

Home-bound, he walked towards his childhood friends. He came up to the table and Daichi and Asahi stood up in response. Asahi spun him around in a bear hug, engulfing Sugawara’s smaller frame. Sugawara pat Asahi’s back and teasingly felt up his biceps through his shirt.

“Still working out, man? You look good,” Sugawara said with a teasing wink which made Asahi blush and stammer.

“Don’t fluster our little man baby,” Daichi said faux-sternly, lightly slapping the back of Sugawara’s head. “It’s good to see you Suga; it feels like it’s been ages.”

Sugawara pulled Daichi into a bone crushing hug, slightly lifting Daichi onto his tiptoes making him chuckle.

“We just got here a few minutes ago, let’s all order,” Asahi said excitedly. “I tried their iced dirty chai with caramel and sweet cream a while back and it was incredible. Daichi blinked at him—he had forgotten Asahi’s sweet tooth. Both feeling bad for the barista, Sugawara and Daichi nodded indulgently to their friend.

The trio went up to the counter and headed back to their table with their drinks. Although it had been a few weeks since Sugawara had talked to his two friends, they fell into easy conversation as if no time had passed between them. They caught up on work, family, friends, random tidbits of gossip, and chattered about nothing in particular.

While absentmindedly listening to Daichi lament about one of his coworkers and Asahi’s gentle consolations, Sugawara looked at his friends seated across from him. It had been years and years since high school. Gone was the round curve of their jaws and the rosy glow of adolescence. Although they were sitting, Sugawara noted the air of confidence that seemed to emanate from the cut of Asahi’s strong shoulders and the pull of authority that orbited around Daichi.

“Hello,” Daichi questioned, waving a hand in front of Sugawara’s face, “are you even listening to me?” he pouted. “I was saying how Hitoshi-san is definitely stealing my lunches and you were too busy spacing out,” he finished with a huff. “Or were you just thinking of Asahi’s arms?” Daichi said, laughing at Asahi’s embarrassment.

Asahi self-consciously crossed his arms over his broad chest and looked away from his snickering friends only to still as something caught his eye. Daichi quieted as he looked past Sugawara as well. Sugawara’s placating trailed off when he realized he had lost their attention and started to turn backwards in his chair.

She was walking towards their table, hips swaying and hands fiddling with the lid of an iced drink. Sugawara turned back, rolling his eyes at their idiocy. He had forgotten that they regressed five years when someone pretty caught their eyes. Trying to start conversation again, he took a plastic knife and tapped it against the side of his cup in mock seriousness. “Gentlemen, if you would be so kind to bring your attention back to me—”

She had walked a little past their table, giving Sugawara what he thought was a dismissive glance—starting with his face and ending at his feet. Rude, he thought to himself, when she suddenly stopped, ice and coffee slushing against the side of the plastic cup, and spun to face Sugawara.

She looked intensely at his honey eyes and he felt his cheeks reddening. From his periphery he saw Daichi tense up and Asahi jump a little at the incoming confrontation. Sugawara smiled nervously and wondered what he possibly could have done to be in the middle of her warpath and immediately tried to apologize.

“Your socks!” she said brightly.

The boys froze in confusion and Sugawara felt the heat rise to his ears. Daichi and Asahi peeked under the table and didn’t even try to hold their laughter in. Sugawara had worn open toed sandals that day. Socks and sandals are a look he constantly insisted to his judgmental friends—birks, he argued, are also comfortable. But, at that moment, he was regretting not going for a more weather appropriate boot. One that would cover the pastel yellow chickens dancing across his ankles. With easter egg hats and baby bunnies. It was a gift from his mom—what monster would deny their mother, Sugawara was internally monologuing.

“A-ah, yeah they were a gift—” he choked out.

“We’re twins!” she shouted gleefully. Setting her drink on their table and reaching down to her boot, she unzipped the side zipper and started one legged hopping in attempts to pull the shoe off. Finally freeing her foot she presented her sock to the table.

They were clearly from the same brand, but instead of the easter motif, her yellow chickens were gathered around a Christmas tree and leaving milk and cookies out for chicken Santa.

Adorable, Sugawara thought.

She wriggled her foot at them before moving to put her boot back on. Teetering a little to the side, about to lose her balance, she let out a little squeak, windmilling her arms to remain upright.

Shooting up from their seats, the boys leapt up to try and catch her, but Sugawara was the first to place one steadying hand to her lower back and another on her shoulder. He ignored the little smirks Daichi and Asahi sent his way as they sat back down.

“Oh my god, thank you,” she said breathlessly. “That would have been so embarrassing,” she muttered to herself. Zipping her boot up and straightening, she looked at the trio and flushed. “Well, thanks for letting me expose my feet to you guys,” she joked while picking her drink back up.

“Thanks again,” she said to Sugawara and walked towards her friends who had been watching and were currently laughing and pointing good naturedly at her.

Dazed, Sugawara looked back towards Daichi and Asahi. Daichi looked incredibly amused and Asahi had placed his elbows on the table, hands cupping his cheeks, looking doe-eyed at Sugawara.

Ignoring them, Sugawara crossed his legs and took a sip of his drink.

“So…” Sugawara drawled, twirling his straw. “Lunch thief?” he said weakly, preparing himself for the onslaught of teasing.

As their drinks slowly emptied and seconds and thirds were bought, Sugawara couldn’t help but sneak glances at her. Her back was towards him, but he could see the way she talked animatedly with her hands and nodded vigorously at her friends. He saw the way she threw her head back in laughter and heard it ring across the café.

As the trio’s conversations were dwindling to an end and the sun was lower in the sky, Asahi and Daichi ganged up on Sugawara.

“God, just ask for her number,” Daichi grinned.

“You kept looking at her—I’m pretty sure all her friends noticed too,” Asahi supplied. He dodged as Sugawara’s hand came to swipe at him and Asahi laughed at his friend’s embarrassment.

“C’mon Suga,” Daichi said, “worst case scenario she says no.”

“But who’d ever say no to our Suga baby,” Asahi crooned, exaggeratedly batting his eyelashes.

Huffing, Sugawara complained, “Worst case scenario is that she says no,” crossing his arms as they laughed.

Before they could continue making fun at him, Sugawara delivered swift kicks to Daichi and Asahi’s shins, making them both bang their knees under the table and scowl at him. Running a nervous hand through his hair and trying to look nonchalant, he glared meaningfully at his friends as she started to walk towards him. He tried not to stare while he pretended to make conversation with a disgruntled Daichi and a pouting Asahi, but he tracked her coming closer and closer from the corner of his eye.

“So,” she started, hands in her back pockets swaying slightly on the balls of her feet.

“And that’s why you need to cut down on salt—” he looked at her and felt his pulse in his throat. “Hi,” Sugawara squeaked, sending a kick specifically at Daichi.

“So,” she said again, “I was wondering if we maybe had more in common than just our superior taste in socks,” ending her sentence at a slightly higher pitch. She twirled a strand of hair around her index finger watching Sugawara’s reaction. “Would you wanna get a coffee sometime?” she asked, eyes crinkling down at him. “But if not, totally fine,” she said quickly, “you don’t have to feel obligated because of our, uh, sock solidarity,” she laughed.

Sugawara’s brain stopped and he swore he could feel his heart in his mouth. He felt a surge of relief that he didn’t have to ask her out, and stared at the way her hair fell around her shoulders. He had the urge to run the tips of his fingers across the ends to see if it felt as soft as it looked. Feeling a sharp pain in his shin, he jumped in his chair and shook himself from his stupor. Feeling the blood rush to his cheeks as he realized he had been staring in silence, he nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes, I’d love to get coffee,” he said quickly, elated at the way she brightened at his response. “H-here,” he fumbled with his phone as he passed it to her. Punching her number in with a grin, she gave his phone back.

“Thanks,” he said softly, staring at the contact information on his screen. “How’s next week Saturday? Twelve-ish?” Sugawara said eagerly, unable to keep the smile from his face.

“Sounds good to me,” she said humming to herself. Looking to her right where her friends were unabashedly watching, she laughed. “Text me!” she said, walking away, “see you soon, chicken!” waving at his table.

Waving back at her in a stupor, Sugawara felt as if his brain had left his body. He hardly heard Asahi’s whoops of encouragement or Daichi’s gentle teasing—he felt his pulse reverberate in his skull. He looked down at his feet and grinned.

As she left the café with one last wave, Sugawara beamed at the two in front of him and shot up from his seat. “Yes!” he shouted, pumping his fists in the air.

Daichi and Asahi leaned into each other and snickered. “Suga, you didn’t do anything,” Daichi said.

In response, Sugawara put his hands behind his head, and stared into the rafters.

“Look at the stupid grin on his face,” Asahi giggled.

Sugawara grinned impossibly harder.

#sugawara kōshi #sugawara koushi #sugawara x you #sugawara x reader #sugawara koshi #sugawara koshi x reader #sugawara koshi fluff #sugawara koshi imagine #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader

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wordynerdygurl · 4 years

Text

Seven Minutes in Heaven

Author’s Note: Well hello my friends! Since hitting 1000 Followers in July (WHAT?! STILL UNBELIEVABLE!!!) I’ve been working on the requests sent in by my amazing troop of readers! This is another one of those stories which I’m pleased to share. As always, help my unending need for validation but re-blogging or liking the story! Also, you can send asks, make your own request, follow me, or be added to my tag-list! Last, @sammy-jo1977 is my beta... and my ride or die home girl! Thanks lady! Pairing: Loki x Female Reader, appearances from most of the Avengers

Summary/ Request: @queenofmischief asked for a story where “Loki and you guys are friends growing up and you realize you like him and try to hide it but somehow at a party or something or another, maybe Seven Minutes in Heaven is involved, it comes out and really hot smut ensues?”

I used some of the ideas you gave me, dear reader, but made it a little more mature, so I sincerely hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Lots of 80′s references... music, movies, clothes, etc. References of smut, heavy petting and kissing

ENJOY!

"But, like, I really don't want to go." Your cellphone, pinned between your ear and shoulder, pushed your earring into the tender flesh behind your lobe. It probably didn't help that the jewelry in question was a pair of huge hoops, fluorescent in color and hard plastic.

You heard Wanda sigh, "Yea… I know. It's just, we all are… and you know it'll be worse if you don't show up."

"I really hate it." Using a sing-song voice didn't change the feelings behind your words. Going up to the main floor of The Avengers Tower for a theme party was not a thrilling idea.

"I know you do-", pulling open the door between your room and hers, you palmed your phone, frowning at your friend, "-But you look great!"

"Radical… or wicked… or tubular would be more 80's appropriate." Still, her compliment made you smile. It really was a great outfit, totally encapsulating the MTV generation's vibe, complete with hot lime colored leg warmers.

Your cropped REO Speedwagon t-shirt was cut off at the neck, dripping low enough to expose one whole shoulder, and a wide stripe of the magenta colored tank top underneath. Having tucked the camisole into your acid washed denim micro miniskirt, you finished the ensemble with a pair of black pumps, and the obligatory scrunchie of cheap yellow satin. It pulled your hair into a low, side ponytail.

For makeup you'd painted your eye-shadow on, bright turquoise with pink under your brows. Lipstick in a shimmery rosy hue brought extra attention to your lips. And you stored your cell phone, lip gloss and keys in your iridescent fanny pack.

Wanda couldn't help giggling at the sight of you and your collection of clashing colors. For her look tonight she'd dawned a pair of skin tight leggings, an over-sized button down shirt with a stretchy black belt that was about four inches wide. Ballet flats, teased out hair and stark makeup had Wanda looking like a video vixen. It was impressive.

"See, you went sexy… and I went silly." Pouting now, you flopped onto your bed, "Can I just not?"

Sitting down next to you, patting your knee, "You don’t look silly, but you do look like you could be a hair band groupie! That’s sexy!” Shrugging your shoulders, unconvinced, Wanda added, “Besides, tonight… It may be fun. And, worse case? You get blitzed like a teenager on prom night."

"No… that's not the worst case. Worst case? He's there."

Sighing, Wanda shook her head, "He does still rub you the wrong way, huh? And, yes, he may be there… but-" standing, taking you with her, "-it would be a shame to waste all your wicked cool work!"

Hearing her use the dated vernacular made you grin. She was right. Tonight could be a blast, if you were able to get out of your head. Jumping off the bed, unsettling one of those fashionable leg warmers, you hugged your friend tightly. You could do this. You wouldn't be alone. And if Loki was there, he'd just have to get over it. You weren't going to pay him any attention.

---

"Mr. Loki… can we please go? We're already stupid late."

Bending to straighten his red suspenders, Loki smirked at himself, "Greed is good."

Sighing, exasperated and edging into anger, Peter pulled open the front door, "I don't know what that means, but you look… greasy."

"Like I could steal your company in a corporate take over? Maybe steal your woman too", Loki questioned, excited at the idea.

Crossing his arms over the red puffy vest he had bought specifically for tonight, Peter grunted, "Uh… I… I guess. I meant more like one of the assholes in Wolf of Wall Street."

God, you had better be there tonight. Loki was putting a lot of hope on Stark’s little shindig and he wanted to make sure that all of the little details were absolutely perfect, giving him every advantage. Standing now, slicking back his long dark hair, "That, my young spider friend, is exactly what I am going for… Evil 80′s CEO."

"Great."

Loki heard the frustration in the young man’s voice. Someday he would understand, Loki thought, turning to the youthful Avenger beside him, "You certainly make a dashing Marty McFly, Peter. Truly."

"Aw! Really, Mr. Loki? Ya mean it?" That made the Spider Boy preen, popping his collar, and standing a little straighter.

"I do! Now-" flashing a rakish smile to his reflection as he passed, "-let's get upstairs and see how everyone else is doing!"

---

Everyone else was ready to party. The last mission, a particularly difficult one, involved Hydra agents banging it out against our heroes along the rough terrain of the polar ice cap. Draining the physical and emotional resources of everyone, including you and Loki, Tony had planned a little party to kick off a period of rest and relaxation.

As soon as the elevator opened you knew it was going to be an insane night. Everything was brightly lit. Paper streamers were strung up haphazardly along the walls and ceiling. Big plastic buckets of chips and cheese curls were put out on the counter along with a huge punch bowl that reeked of rum and sugary fruit juice. On the floor in the kitchenette was a garbage can, freezing, full of ice, only the keg tap visible. A stack of red plastic cups was at the ready.

Someone had ordered pizza. Well, dozens of pizzas. The boxes were piled along the table already crammed with pretzel bags and Doritos.

Steve was being instructed on the basics of Beer Pong and, you decided, definitely being hustled by Sam. Bucky looked on with curiosity, quietly sneaking closer to the chips and dip, hoping no one would notice. Rhodey was watching them both through the reflective lenses of his aviator shades, doing a great job of looking like a Top Gun cadet, including the tight jeans and broken-in bomber jacket. Grinning as he drank down a bottle of beer, Rhodes shouted, "Hey Stank! Is all of this really necessary?"

"Don't come for me Rhodey!" Wearing a pair of neon leopard spotted knit pants, a green polo shirt and white sneakers, Tony was clutching a glass bowl filled with little slips of paper to his chest. No one had managed to figure out what they were or why he held them. Drinking two beers from his plastic, can holding helmet, Tony would answer only with a slightly slurred, "It's my trashy 80′s party and I do what I want!"

And Tony had thought of everything. Sounding like a mixed tape pulled from the radio, the tunes didn't let up! Ratt, Foreigner, Cindi Lauper, Madonna and Tom Petty all took turns blasting through the room. So many hits from the past pumped through the sound system, getting people on their feet and keeping them there. You were swinging and swaying along, having a blast, but when Bon Jovi hit the group of Intergalactic Warriors went wild.

Clint, rocking a mullet wig and a vest with no shirt, jumped onto a table making the motions of an air guitar champion. Singing into a beer bottle like it was his microphone, "Whoooooaaaa we're halfway there…"

Guffawing, you hid behind your Bud Light filled cup, already red cheeked from the non-stop laughing and alcohol in your system. At some point you had given up Wanda to Vision in a varsity jacket, doing his best jerk-off jock impression, and not quite pulling it off. It wasn't his fault that he was too polite to put people down in the way of Eighties movie bad guys. Alone, feeling flushed, but happy, you needed a break and some quiet. Flinging yourself onto the soft sofa, watching the frat house style antics unfold all around, you couldn’t help laughing. Tony always found a way to knock the group out of their post mission funk. Sometimes that meant week long Caribbean vacations and sometimes that meant dressing up in retro attire and scream singing with a cold beer in your hands. Either way, it seemed to bring everyone closer together, and the pictures were certainly worth framing. The couch dipped as someone joined you. Swiveling, not quite drunk but not quite sober, you couldn’t help the groan that left you. “Oh. It’s you.”

Not exactly the response Loki wanted, he was just grateful that you spoke to him at all. Lately you seemed to flee any room he entered, a hurt and heavy sigh escaping you before you'd make your exit, never looking back. Loki couldn't understand why.

After all, it had been two months since that night. The one where he'd stumbled on you, glowing blue in the light of the television set, alone and in the darkness. You asked him to join you, he had accepted.

The movie was called "Say Anything" and Loki had to admit, as far as romance on film went, this story was very moving. But that was an unexpected bonus to being so near to you. Before the credits rolled, you had burrowed against him, snuggled under his arm with your head on his chest.

Stroking your hair, Loki pressed a kiss to your forehead, thoughtlessly, naturally. Pushing away, looking up at him through hooded lashes, "You… you kissed me?"

Words failed the silver tongued devil, something he still pondered all these weeks later, so a nod was all you got for a response. Kneeling, your sleep shirt riding over your thighs, Loki watched your small hand rising to cup his cheek. Feeling your lips against his own was the beginning of the best night of his life.

And then, nothing. It was like a switch had been thrown and no matter how many ways he tried to reach out for you, Loki wasn't able to connect. Not like that night.

So, he was going against his nature tonight. Joining the group, drinking a bit of his brother's mead, wearing a dated but pristine business suit. All done in the vain hope that something would shift in his favor.

He had already lost too many nights to memories of you. Soft, full skin under his broad palms. The tiny moan you exhaled when Loki’s tongue met your own. How your wet, willing body accepted him, without question or stipulation. And in the afterglow, when your head rested in the crook of his neck and your cherry cola scented breath circled him, you let Loki hold you close.

But he buried it all. Tonight he was the embodiment of all things slick. Nothing could stick to him; not when he had a goal in mind and this much gel in his hair. Loki Odinson would be taking you home tonight, come hell or high water. Wolfish, Loki’s grin was wicked, “Yes. Your dream has come true.” Sitting back, he crossed his designer suit covered knee at the ankle, exposing socks with little golfers on them. He let his right arm rest along the back of the sofa, not around you… not yet, but inching closer. “What is that cologne you’re wearing?” “Don’t you like it? I’m told Drakkar Noir was quite the scent of the 80′s. I did my research.” Twisting, you looked him over, impressed despite yourself. The suit was totally of its time. Black, pinstriped and you were sure the jacket that came with it was draped somewhere safe. His shirt was shiny but soft and bright, blinding white. Suspenders of red matched the tie that draped down the center of his chest. With his hair combed straight back and held in place with some kind of product, Loki looked like he was capable of eating a six course lunch at Sardi’s, complete with dirty martinis, then jetting back to the office in time to defraud a corporate spending account. The kind of executive that blackmails a co-worker with pictures of a mistress. The kind of douche bag that tries to take over a rec center to build a mall. In short, an avarice little asshole. So, why was it so hot? “It’s… overpowering.”, boy, was that an understatement. Loki’s whole aesthetic was overpowering right now. And, was he moving closer? His bent knee brushed against your own as he leaned near enough to be heard at a whisper, “You look adorable, you know that?” Scrunching into the corner of the couch, eyeing him suspiciously, “Oh? Really?” “Really.”, his hand brushed over your exposed shoulder, making you jump at his touch.

Uh uh. No way. You would not be so easy to seduce this time around. Even if those wide hands sent goosebumps growing all over your body, Loki would not charm his way into your panties again. Not like last time.

It had been spontaneous. Genuine, at least for you. And in the moment, it felt like Loki had given you a little piece of himself, a tenderness that no one else ever saw in the far flung Frost Giant.

Maybe that's why Clint's words hurt so much. He had told you so casually, holding up a spoonful of Cheerios, "Loki said his last girl was a drag. Basic bitch? Is that what the kids say?"

Thinking about it now made your heart hurt. You had given yourself to someone who thought you were beneath him. Loki couldn't want you. You would never be good enough.

But that night haunted you. His soulful kisses that stole your breath. The drag of Loki’s hands over the swell of your bottom as you straddled his hips. His solid chest under your own hands, dark head curved against the couch cushion, but those burning eyes never leaving your face. “I thought you said I was plain. Simple. Boring.”

Leveling his own words back at him made Loki straighten in his seat. How could you think that? Unbalanced, stammering, “Uh… I… I’d never…” “Never expected me to find out? I believe that. And, let me tell you this-” Pushing yourself up with the help of the couch’s arm, you rose on unsteady legs, “-I’m not nearly drunk enough to fall into your arms again.” Spinning away, you made a dash towards the people in the kitchen, without looking back. Watching you go, Loki could do nothing but stare after your retreating form, flummoxed.

“That was… painful.”

He knew that voice well enough, frustrated, confused and unfit for company, “Go away, Tony.”

“I don’t think I will. In fact-” sitting down in your empty spot, patting Loki’s knee, “-I’m going to make myself comfortable. Now, tell Uncle Tony all about it.”

Rolling his eyes, unable to find you in the crowd, Loki risked a sideways glance at his replacement companion. Was he really going to indulge in this? Tell his almost friend about you… about your one night together? Loki raked his hands through the pomade in his hair, growling low, “If you breathe a word of it Tony, I’ll-” Lowering his wrap around sunglasses, peering at Loki, Tony smiled, “Your secret is safe with me.” ---

Thinking less and less about Loki as the night went on should have been a relief but it seemed like the scent of him followed you everywhere. Unable to get free of him, you busied yourself with drinks, dancing, and munching like you were a kid again. Anything to keep your mind from wandering.

It's not like the party was boring. Not at all! There was plenty to distract you and you let it. Natasha made you her partner for beer pong and somehow you successfully won against Rhodey and Sam.

Next, Wanda needed you, which is how you wound up sitting on the bathroom sink listening to her go on about Vision in that wistful, loving way that made your own heart ache. Being a little drunk, you had to fight the urge to cry because you were lonely and hurting. “I saw you talking to Loki… what was that about?” She was reapplying ruby red lipstick, studying herself in the mirror, not looking directly at you.

Wanda's voice cut through your self doubt spiral though, something you were thankful for, and with a casual tone you countered, “He was trying to get something started, I think.” Eyebrows lifting, Wanda’s interested piqued, “Really? Loki was hitting on you?” “Yea… I mean, I think so. Was coming on awfully strong too. But… he’s been a jerk, right?”

Wanda cleaned up her eye make-up taking a minute, after washing her hands she looked at you, “I mean, he is here.” “So?” “So, you know he’s not really a joiner. More of a lone wolf. In fact, I think this may be the first of these little parties he’s come to. Maybe he’s changed… grown a bit? And, honestly, you never asked him about-”

Hopping off the counter, cutting her off, more than a little huffy at her good sense, “No, I didn’t and I don’t plan to. Loki thinks I’m a bore? Too basic for him? Fine. I have better things to do with my time.” Laying her hand on your shoulder, Wanda stopped you, eyeing you in the mirror once more, “I know his words hurt… but you’re going to have to clear the air eventually. Especially if we’re all going to work together.”

Shrugging, you offered your friend a small smile. There was truth in her sentiment, even if your slightly drunken brain rebelled against hearing it, “Yea, you're right… plus-” looking around the small washroom, just to make sure no one could hear the pair of you, “- he looks really hot tonight!”

Giggling, Wanda hugged you close, “I didn’t want to say anything, but… yea he does!” The pair of you were still laughing together, standing at the back of the crowd as Tony turned down the music, announcing, “Gather round children, Uncle Tony needs your attention!” There were a few groans, mostly from the beer pong table, as apparently Bucky was unhappy about forfeiting his winning match. Everyone else, in all their high haired glory, were congregating near their host, curious and more than a little drunk.

“Tony, what the hell, man? You killed the tunes!”, Clint shouted, spilling Bud Light foam as he joined the tightening circle. “Patience, my drunk friend. You all remember this?” From the table nearby, Tony picked up his glass bowl, triumphant, “Our Destiny!”

Pepper, sighing with a smile, “So dramatic!” Shaking the bowl in her direction Tony smirked, “Ok smarty, then you pick first. Go on… Pick!” There were oohs and ahhs from the assembled Avengers. Rolling her eyes, Pepper reached in, grabbing the first slip her fingers found. Pulling it free, she grinned, eyeing Tony, “It says ‘Loki’...” Hearing his name, Loki snapped his head up, surprise registering on his face, “Excuse me?” Holding it up for his examination, Pepper waved the slip under the regal nose of the junior Odinson, “See… your name.” “Yes, but why?”

Butting in, Tony snatched the scrap from the hand of his lovely fiance, practically dancing with glee. Turning to Loki, “Now you, Gordon Gecko, pull a slip.” Aware of all eyes locked on him, Loki reached into the jar, digging around a little more than necessary. Finally satisfied, the thin paper pinched between his fingers, Loki opened the folded note. When his fierce gaze met yours, you knew without a doubt. It was your name he had grabbed. Throwing a thick arm across Loki’s broad shoulders, Tony hugged him close, “Well? What’s it say?” It all made sense in that moment. The tacky costumes, flat beer and endless music. A drunken moment of clarity had descended. Tony, waving his arms, eating up the crowd’s reactions, heads turning to gauge your response. Swallowing hard, your hearing failing you, you just faked a smile. You and Loki were going into the closet for Seven Minutes in Heaven. Only there was no way you were going to do that. Not after what he’d said. Not after your one night together, right? But you felt a gentle hand pushing your forward, into the center of your circle of friends and for some reason, your feet followed.

Refusing didn't enter your mind. With everyone ogling you and Loki, making a scene would only cause more speculation, something you weren't keen to do. Instead, you stepped next to Tony, outwardly eager to play along.

You just shouldn't have dared to look at your proposed make out partner. Laser focused, Loki’s lusty look hadn’t wavered. No, the light in those thundering blue eyes was carnal, darker than you had ever seen, matching your own. Against your better judgement, you wanted Loki, too.

Whatever Tony was saying was a blur, merely sounds, because you were utterly stunned by the nearness of Loki. The roaring laughs of the rest of the group were drowned out by your pounding heart. A door opened to a dim room, the pantry maybe? You didn’t know and in that moment you didn’t really care.

With a small smile, Loki ducked into the cupboard, lacing his fingers with yours, offering a bit of his strength. Dragging you inside, your body pinned between a shelf of snacks and the hard body of your frenemy, a whimper of want passed your lips. Loki still smelled so good and now he was so close. “Have fun you two!”, Tony’s words were accompanied by the door shutting you and Loki inside, in the dark. Surrounded by silence, Loki’s sharp pants were the only sound louder than your racing pulse, which was saying something. Afraid to move, afraid of spooking you, Loki struggled to search your stare in the low light. He had already experienced your angry dismissal of his attention tonight. It wasn't something he wanted to relive, not when you were so close with sweet and speedy breath, your chest brushing against his own at each exhale.

Lifting a hand, grazing over your uncovered shoulder, Loki's touch was electric. You moved towards it, towards him, needing more of his energy. Craving it.

Bold in the dark, you grabbed at Loki’s suspenders, tugging him closer. Rising on your toes, covering some of the distance between your mouth and his, you pressed a hot kiss to those soft, pink lips. Under your fluttering fingers Loki shivered, "Darling-"

"Shut up. I… I don't care."

"But I never…"

"I told you. I don't care. Now kiss me like you mean it, because we only have about six more minutes!"

Not needing any more encouragement, Loki found the flare of your hips in the shadows, molding your curves to the rigid planes of his body. Desperate, needy, you felt his tongue move against your own. Want, plain and simple, led your own fingers to the collar of Loki’s starched shirt and the tangle of his raven hair. Fisting it, tugging against those luscious locks, you couldn’t seem to get close enough to the tall God sharing your cupboard. Whining, his name on your lips, you drew Loki tight enough that the press of your breasts was edging towards pain. Demanding, true to your word, with every pass of Loki’s magical mouth over your own the last few weeks were forgotten. Hungry for more, Loki roughly squeezed the flesh of your ass, grinding you against his wool blend covered crotch. Stuttering, his arousal was so stiff, for a minute Loki worried about making a mess. But that feeling was replaced with unbridled ecstasy when your lips found the tender skin below his ear.

A nip, enough to make Loki hiss, was soon soothed by your sucking on the same spot. Resting your butt on the nearest shelf, you didn’t have to stand on tip-toe to reach the soft, sweet sections of Loki where you longed to lavish attention. He took advantage of your new position by sliding a free hand along the swell of your separated thighs. “I just need to feel you, dove. I need to know that you want me as much as I want you.” It was a husky whisper, directly into your ear, and it sent an arc of icy fire to your core. When his long fingers skimmed over the silky slick of your panties you moaned in unison, bucking into Loki’s touch, lost in the moment. Stepping between your legs, Loki took one of your hands into each of his own, pinning you wide open against the boxes of cereal and granola bars that lined the pantry walls. Devouring you slowly, Loki kissed along the column of muscles at your throat, across the exposed line of your clavicle. You could do little more than take his delicious torment as more and more of your sweat dappled skin was serviced by his silver tongue. “Yes… Loki…”, tumbling out of you, just like the night when you first came together, you crooned his name in delight. Breathless, boneless and broken with need. CLICK! The sound made you both freeze. Snapping swiftly, Loki’s head swung towards the door where the bright light and noisy crowd of the party was intruding into your private pantry. “WHOA, WHOA, WHOA! What do we have here?” Swinging into the tight space, Tony’s shrewd look took in the scene in seconds, “What were you two doing in here? It was a very quiet seven minutes!” Straightening to standing, Loki stood, blocking you from sight as you readjusted your clothes. Smoothing down his tangled strands, sarcasm dripping, “Talking. Very quietly.” When he was sure you were decent, Loki offered you his hand, and blinking you stepped back into the wild and raucous party still in full swing. Tony, flashing a knowing grin your way, nodded, “I hope you didn’t smush the chips! We still need those!” Giggling, you locked onto Loki’s arm, letting him lead you towards the keg and away from the shouted questions of your friends. You knew there was no mystery about what happened in those seven minutes. Hair mused, makeup smudged, lips swollen and shirts twisted, the pair of you were walking neon signs for getting to third base.

Silently Loki poured you a beer, taking a small glass of Asgardian mead for himself, before raising his glass your way. Returning his gesture, you downed the frothy ale fast, feeling a little parched after your spit swapping time in the hall closet. Boring into you, his eyes followed each of your movements, searching for a sign of your feelings. Dropping your empty cup on the counter, you turned and jumped onto the marble ledge, feet dangling. “Loki?” Placing his own glass down gently, Loki took his position between your bent knees, looking down at your darling face, “Yes?” “Did you say those things? That I was… boring? Basic?” Shaking his dark waves no, Loki bit into his bottom lip, “Never. What I said was, my last girl, ages ago, was those things… but my new lady-” tracing along your jaw, tipping your chin his way, “-she is everything I could ever want.”

“Am I… am I your new lady, then?” With a fierce flicker of fire in his eyes, Loki nodded yes this time, “Absolutely.” Leaning into him, arms around his neck, you tugged him down to meet your waiting lips. “Good. Good to know. Because I think I’m going to watch a movie tonight.” “Really? I recall really enjoying the last one.” “Hmm… me too.” Sliding off the counter, ducking under Loki’s long arms, you turned back to face him, “My room… say, an hour?”

Snapping his suspenders, smirking, “I’ll be there.” Watching you skip away made Loki’s pulse pound in anticipation. Pouring himself another glass of clear liquor, he chuckled, amazed at the change seven minutes had created.

“You’re welcome.” “Ah! Yes, many thanks Tony.”

Leaning against the counter, Tony knocked into Loki’s shoulder, “You’re cute together, Rock of Ages, but don’t make me regret helping you tonight! Treat her right.”

“Of course. I... truly, thank you.”, sincerity seeped from Loki at the favor from Tony. “No worries! No worries!” Waving away any additional gratitude, Tony looked over the group of half cocked, and totally cocked heroes before him, “Of course the real bitch was getting Pepper to pull your name from the bowl…”

My Marvelous Minxes tag-list: @queenofmischief @vodka-and-some-sass @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @lots-of-loki @thefallenbibliophilequote @iamverity @iluvsumbucky @unadulteratedwizardlove @wolfsmom1 @procrastinatinglikeabitch @mizfit2 @shxdowofdarkness @nonsensicalobsessions @ahintofkiwistrawberry @jessiejunebug @rorybutnotgilmore @crystalizedcaramel @lokislittlecorner @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81 @caffiend-queen @thenatalie @sammy-jo1977 @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @is-it-madness @jenjen8675309 @alexakeyloveloki @poetic-fiasco

#loki x reader #loki x you #hot loki #loki smut #loki love #1000followers #mcu smut #mcu fanfiction #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #80's #80's loki #80's mcu

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adam-memeleri · 3 years

Text

Imperfections

it may not be foreign affairs anymore, but its still ayna day in my heart 😔❤️. thanks @gay-dinosaur-banana-milk-carton for the prompt again, i threw in some angst this time cuz i like pain :) kinky

no idea when anything takes place, but im aiming for during the fake relationship i think ?? who knows tbh

tagging -@bubblelaureno @lookingforsomethingcuzimbored @swimmingshoebakerydreamer @alccaddsccup @cardinalnuggets

if you do or do not wanna be tagged

Masterlists shameless self promotion lmao

T Rating (uhhhh i think hurt/comfort? primarily? idk man)

Ayna x MC (Kennedy, they/them)

~2k words unedited but thats nothing new now is it?

Ayna’s fingers fasten a necklace clasp behind her neck, every movement careful and precise as she readies herself. They move to her hair, fixing it for the nth time, just to assure it’s perfect.

It has to be perfect, all of it. Every hair, every pore, every fine detail - it’s all been carefully thought through for weeks now, for this one specific date.

Valentine’s Day.

The end all be all, at least this year. She’s never given it much thought before, but she’s never really had a reason to. Until this year. Until this crazy, wild, borderline disastrous year. Until the day Kennedy stumbled into her class, all smiles and longing looks.

Until she spent days looking forward to coffee house meetups, until short texts could make her whole day, until every class was an excuse to share a small smile. And, unfortunately, until those meetups were forced to end, until those texts stopped coming, until class was just a reminder that even smiles were dangerous.

But not today. She had a plan today, a foolproof, perfect plan. No planned meetups, no trackable texts, nothing too out in the open. And she’d be damned if it failed.

She turns from the hanging mirror, shrugging on a jacket and tugging on a nice pair of shoes before straightening. Her reflection stares back at her, carefully done makeup and slightly askew glasses. She quickly adjusts them, tucking back one last strand of hair.

With one last glimpse at herself, she grabs the bouquet of roses she picked out earlier in the day, bright red petals resting on her table. And with that she leaves, exiting her building and venturing onto Vancross campus.

She eventually steps out onto one of the many winding paths leading through the school’s grounds, carefully making her way to the expansive library settled in one corner of campus. It’s familiar warmth shines through the windows, yellow lights on even in the darkening night for cramming and over enthusiastic students.

Ayna’s fingers tighten over the door’s handle, tugging it open as a small, excited grin overtakes her lips. She steps inside, flowers poised in her hands regardless of how cheesy they may be, and scans for

They’re with her. Sitting with her, talking with her, laughing with her. They’ve been doing everything with her, and today’s no different. Today’s not special, not exempt, not reserved for Ayna.

Huddled close at a table, books spread before the pair as they whisper, heads so close. Arms touching, smiles wide, chairs so close. They’re so close, that’s all Ayna can think about as she simply stands there, all her previous excitement evaporating from her body.

And they don’t even notice her. Kennedy’s gaze doesn’t flicker in her direction in the way it always does. Their cheeks don’t flush when they’re caught like they always do in the lecture hall. Their hands don’t fidget with barely contained nerves, atop the table, a pen twirling between anxious fingers.

Their gaze is glued to Evelyn’s features, their cheeks dust in a blush from her words, their hands are relaxed as they lean against her shoulder. They don’t even notice Ayna.

She turns on her heel, quickly rushing out the library’s front doors and into the dusk settled around campus. Her heels clack with some strange anger, some swirling in the pit of her gut as her fist clenches, crushing the bouquet she spent so long picking out.

And all for naught. This is all for naught, that’s the worst part. The outfit, the shoes, the hair and makeup - all for absolutely nothing.

She stalks to a trash can resting beside the pavement, glaring down at it with pale knuckles and a furrow in her brow. She breaks, like a glass hitting concrete. She breaks, stuffing the ridiculous flowers into the bin over and over again, until she’s just needlessly exerting herself, needlessly scratching herself on discarded thorns.

Little nicks on her skin, tiny imperfections to ruin it all. A visual of her failings, a marking to remind her of this disastrous night. A brand forged without fire, one that’ll remain in the morning, even after she’s washed off the rest of tonight. Even when the mascara and curls and jacket are discarded in the next few hours, the cuts will stay, at least for a few days.

She breaks once more, from the trash bin as an angry and hurt tear slips down her cheek. A crumpled fist hurriedly wipes it away, before she’s stamping down the paved path once more, shoulders tight and expression pinched.

“Hey! Ayna!” a voice rings behind her, out of breath as quick footsteps draw closer and closer. “Hey,” a hand softly grasps her sleeve, a smiling face slipping into her line of sight.

“Hey,” she mumbles back, her gaze trained on the pavement beneath her feet, feet that haven’t once halted.

Kennedy slows by her side, falling into step with her easily. “Tatum said he saw you come into the library then leave, what’s up?”

Ayna’s shoulders lift in a halfhearted shrug, slumping with an exhale. “Nothing.”

“You sure? You seem kinda… distant.”

“I’m fine.”

“Well, okay,” Kennedy relents, head swiveling as they search for something to occupy her attention. “Um, happy Valentine’s!” Their hands clap together excitedly, expression alight with a beaming smile. “I wanted to call you or something earlier, but Winston was hovering over me all day and I don’t know… You’re usually busy this time of night and I didn’t want to bother you.”

Ayna shrugs again, her hands fisted in her pockets. “I’m not busy.”

“Really? Then let’s do something!”

Her gaze snaps up, shock sparking throughout her mind. “What?” she blanks, stopping in her tracks to further scrutinise Kennedy.

“Yeah!” Kennedy’s grin is brilliant, even in the low light, before they glance about the quad. Their hands slip into Ayna’s, fingers tangling with hers, before they’re tugging her along, away from the light posts and travelled paths.

She’s led past the bushes, to a secluded bench, empty branches hanging above it, stretching from a large tree. A soft breeze stirs them, whistling through the leafless wood.

“Okay,” Kennedy starts, sucking in a deep breath. “So I know this is super late, and I don’t really know how to go about this, but…” they meet her eyes, hope glimmering within, “would you, Ayna Seth, do me the honour of being my Valentine?”

She blinks. Not a single other muscle moves, her breath halts in her lungs, her brain malfunctions entirely, and the only thing she can do is blink. Again. And again.

“...Ayna?” Kennedy squeezes her hands where they still rest in theirs.

“You really… Really?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ve been trying to find a good time for ages, so I figured… Are you bleeding?”

“What?”

“You’re bleeding! Your hands!” they grip her forearm, tugging her down to the bench, where they carefully cradle her hands in their lap. Their fingers hover over her skin, not sure what to do as they send uneasy glances up to Ayna’s eyes.

She inspects the scratches now, all of them shallow and mostly painless. “It’s just a few cuts,” she mumbles, Kennedy’s panicked gaze quieting her.

“What happened?” they whisper, as if worried the volume of their voice could inflict further damage.

“I, um -” Ayna steals her hands back, folding them in her lap to hide them. “The flowers,” she worries her bottom lip between her teeth, “They had thorns.”

“You should be more careful.”

“Okay,” she nods, still biting her lip.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“You’ve been wanting to ask me out?” They speak at the same time, concern brimming in Kennedy’s eyes and disbelief in Ayna’s.

A grin quirks Kennedy’s lips as they settle against the bench, arm draped over the back. “I asked first.”

“Barely,” Ayna chuckles lighty.

“Still got there first.”

Ayna shakes her head in exasperation, a fond smile lifting her lips. Before it all falls away, replaced by a crease between her brows. “I, um,” she shifts in her seat awkwardly, struggling for the words. “I don’t think I’m as comfortable with the fake relationship as I thought I was…”

“Okay,” Kennedy answers quickly, easily.

“What?” she balks, jaw working for words. “Are you sure?” is all she manages.

“Of course,” they chime, just as quickly, as easily. “If you’re jealous or uncomfortable, I’ll do whatever I can to put a stop to it.”

Ayna’s jaw snaps shut, a frown curving her mouth, “I’m not jealous.”

“Oh really?” Kennedy’s voice hums, a teasing lilt to it.

“I’m not,” Ayna’s frown deepens.

“Okay…” they hum again, leaning closer as their voice lowers. “So you’d have no problem with me, say, asking out Evelyn for real?” Their eyebrow raises, head cocking to the side. “Or what about Blaine? Maybe Zaira…?” they tap their chin thoughtfully.

Ayna starts, “Don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” her voice tapers off, replaced by the bouncing of her leg and the picking of a nail.

“You’re jealous?” Kennedy supplies with an amused smile.

Ayna deflates, sighing heavily, “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Being… jealous,” she almost spits the word, distaste heavy on her tongue and sloshing in her stomach.

Kennedy shifts closer, their body warm against Ayna’s in the cool night air. “Don’t be. It’s normal, it’s fine,” they take her hand, their palm covering tiny cuts, tiny imperfections with warmth and comfort. “I’d get jealous if you were walking around with someone too.”

“You’re not weirded out by it?”

“No, it’s normal,” They squeeze Ayna’s hand, thumb brushing lightly on her skin. “It’s human. You’re human.”

“I still don’t like it,” she scowls, eliciting a nudge and smirk from Kennedy.

“That’s fine, too,” they reassure, a more serious expression taking over. “So what happened with the thorns?”

“I got you roses,” Ayna’s cheeks flush dark, “Even though I know it’s lame, and then I kinda, uh, threw them out.”

A wide grin breaks across Kennedy’s face as they sidle up against Ayna, throwing their arm over her shoulder. “One:” they count off on the hand resting over her shoulder, “that’s adorable, and two: why’d you toss them?”

She doesn’t move beneath their arm, sitting stiff and rigid, her voice the same, “I got jealous and ruined them. I wanted tonight to be perfect, it was supposed to be perfect, and I ruined it.”

“Stop that. You didn’t ruin anything,” Kennedy scolds. “I told you, jealousy’s human. And I tend to like the things about you that make you human. It’d be weird if my Valentine was a robot,” they tease, nudging Ayna until she joins them in smiling.

She finally faces them fully, her own eyebrow jutting upwards, “I never said I’d be your Valentine.”

“You didn’t, did you?” Their arm retracts, leg folding on the bench as their body rotates towards hers. Their palms clasp in their lap as they lean forward, a smirk on their lips. “So what’ll it be, Ayna? Be my Valentine? My perfectly imperfect Valentine?”

She chuckles, shaking her head as she finally relaxes, the teasing familiar. “That doesn’t make any sense,” she smiles softly, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind her ear, unbothered by it.

“It does if you turn off the robot brain,” Kennedy lightly taps Ayna on the nose, laughing when her face scrunches.

“The robot brain is a part of the Valentine’s package.”

Kennedy squints, eyes roving over Ayna’s features. The askew glasses, the smudged lipstick, the flyaway hairs. “Are the roses also a part of it?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Then I’m all in,” they grin, just as infectious and brilliant as always. “So? Valentines?” they prod, wiggling their eyebrows playfully.

Ayna smiles softly back, scratched hands rising to cup Kennedy’s cheeks and close the already shrinking distance between them. “Valentines,” she murmurs against their lips, a whispered promise. Before they meet, light and soft and full of the light that’s held beyond the bushes.

#tbh this is probably a *bit* ooc but i just wanted angst so whatever #ayna seth #ayna x mc #playchoices #choices fanfic #i think i had something else to say but i forgot so just imagine a thumbs up with a really awkward smile instead :)

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gojology · 3 years

Text

Teddybears and Shitty Cards.

back to homepage pairing : yuuji x gender neutral reader warnings : minor cursing, fluff wordcount : 1529 a/n : i hope i did u yuuji stans justice .. probably not but this is rlly good for my characterization :) also i thought that gojo wasn’t as well loved as megumi/yuuji/nanami etc but holy shit i thought wrong. my megumi and nanami fics got little to no attraction, or maybe i write them horribly, idk. is gojo satoru the best husbando in jjk? (the answer is yes.) also uh.. i didnt proof read this ████████████████ 100% Complete. Enjoy your game.

“Itadori!” you yell, panting, cupping your hands together around your mouth to amplify your voice. He had asked you prior to meet with you for Valentines in this particular park, most likely because it was Valentines day. You had to admit, his selection in nice places was clearly defined. The views from the hill you and him sat upon was spectacular, you could see the city in it’s whole. This was amplified with the setting of the sun, a hazy beautiful orangey-yellow gradient was all the eye could see from up here. It was definitely worth the walk up the steep hill, and you took a much needed seat and breather on the painted wooden bench, pulling out your water bottle you take a long swig, wiping the sweat off your brow as you did so. You took a quick sneak peek at Yuuji, who was humming a tune, earbuds in. Shielding your eyes with your hand, you leaned closer into his shoulder. His thumbs were fumbling with something, which you now realized was a Nintendo Switch. “Watcha playing?” you ask, breathing in his scent. Remnants of candy and baked goods filled your nose. Yuuji didn’t say anything back, instead continuing to hum and mumble a few lyrics, lost in his own world. It was only until you impatiently tapped at his broad shoulders to pay attention to you. He jolted up, looking left and right before finally realizing you were sitting next to him. Taking a deep breath in, he cheerfully smiled before taking one of his earbuds out. “Hey! You came early~ are you excited to see me?” he questioned, setting his Nintendo Switch into his backpack before picking up what seemed to be a bag right next to him. “Of course! Why wouldn’t I be, baby?” you reply back, grinning, deciding to pay no mind towards this bag. Yuuji was quite popular, especially revolving sports or something along the lines of that. Many famous coaches had said that he possessed super-human strength, and he had been showered in contracts with sport teams not long after those few words. In return, this caused Yuuji to be insanely busy with many interviews and pelted with multiple adult-y stuff to do, which had hurt you exceptionally. It greatly hindered the relationship between you two. Weekly visits turned into monthly, and you couldn’t bare to see him drown in all his work. He was a busy guy, but yet always so carefree, and you didn’t want that carefree childish aspect of him to disappear. After all, that was something you loved about Yuuji. He looked up at you with a reassuring beam, and you felt yourself melt under those warm eyes. “Aww, that makes me happy, (Y/N). Scratch that, you make me happy!” facing you, he gave you a quick peck on your cheek. Your heart bursts, it had been too long since you felt that specific thing, and you give him a gentle kiss back, running a hand through his fluffy hair. “I missed you. It’s been too long since I’ve talked to you, lovebug. Schedule is jampacked. But I met some nice friends along the way, and my coach is super nice!” he rambled on, fumbling with the handles of this mysterious bag. “Oh? How so?” trying to make conversation, you want to appear as interested as he talked about his coach, but you were focused on his outfit and how he looked in general. He had gotten way more stronger, you noted. He was much more scrawnier when you two first started dating, and you wondered how his cuddles might feel like. Something that didn’t change though, was his horrible fashion sense. Wearing a turquoise t-shirt with a lemon yellow jacket over it, you almost winced. Yuuji dressed like a 6th grader who had their mom pick out clothes for them. “...And he annoys the absolute shit out of his co-worker, Utahime. It’s funny! I also met this guy named Nanami and I have no idea how my coach and Nanami are friends. Nanami always looks like he’s on the verge of murdering him whenever he opens his mouth to speak! Oh and also me and my coach made Valentine cards together and I worked really hard on it and I just know you’ll like it! Also-” “Alright, alright. That’s a mouthful.” you sang sarcastically, Yuuji awkwardly laughed and rubbed his hand against the back of his neck, looking at you like you had caught him stealing a cookie out of a jar at 12 AM. “Sorry. I get carried away a lot.” he says, peering into the bottomless pit inside the bag. You couldn’t quite see what was inside of it. “No, no. I think it’s cute, Yuuji-san! I didn’t forget how you acted in the span of 1 month, why would I be dating you if I thought you were annoying?” hoping this’ll knock some sense into him, you closely examine his body language for any changes, hoping that went through his mind. You had to make sure, the guy was dumb when it came to social cues. “Ohh, really?” he looked up, pointer finger on his chin, a confused expression covering his features. “I didn’t know, I’ll act more annoying for you then!” Smacking your forehead, you studied your shoes, too giggly to look at him eye-to-eye. “That’s not what I meant, idiot.” “...What did you mean then?” Yuuji quizzed, tilting his head to the side. You really couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, you’d think that all sport players would be brutes and be masculine and perhaps... Not stupid? But here you were. “No bother.” waving your hand as a dismissal of the conversation, you instead lean towards the bag he was holding, fluttering your eyelashes. “What’s this?” “It’s a surprise~” he responded, obviously giddy. You felt yourself soften once more, how could someone be so cute just answering a question? “Hey, come on!” tugging on his arm, you try to yank the bag away, curiosity killing you. His grasp was firm, and he laughed as you did so, it felt good to hear him laugh like that again. “Okay, okay! Fine. Here, go at it.” handing you the bag, you practically ripped the handles off, ecstatic to see what could possibly be waiting to be discovered. Inside was an incredibly large teddy bear, soft. The color was almost exactly the same shade of Yuuji’s, and you squeal, hugging the plush. “Awww! This is so cute! I woulda never believed you’re smart enough to get a good gift for me!” you joked, he caught the sarcasm this time, giving you a confident grin. He liked the compliments. “It’s supposed to be me.” placing a hand onto his chest dramatically. “I don’t know if you realized though.” Scoffing, you put the teddybear to the side. “Of course I’d realize! I’m not dumb, Yuuji-san!” “Why not? We could be dumb together! Also, there’s something extra at the very bottom that I think you’d like.” Blinking, you realized that you had completely forgotten about the bag between your legs. Looking back down and rummaging for what possibly could be there, you pull out a card. On the front, there’s a tacky lopsided heart, made with glitter glue. It seems there are also many failed attempts of starting this large heart at the sides of it. At the top, there’s a large, “Happy Valentines Day!” in red marker that was also uneven. Underneath the heart? A stick figure drawing of you and Yuuji, which was also... Pretty horrible. Stifling a giggle, you open the card, eyes scanning the left for anything, you turn to face the right as soon as you deem it clear. That’s where the writing is. Dear Y/N, I love you very much and I know I do not spend that much time with you anymore but you still make me very happy. My coach was very nice and gave me Valentines day off because he felt bad. I had to run to the nearest drugstore to get you this teddybear, but me and Mr. Coach decorated this together! He says he’s a very good drawer and I agree. I think the drawing is very detailed. He also helped me with the heart (we picked out the color together) and we had a lot of fun decorating. He says my handwriting looks really bad (is that true?) can you please help me fix it later? :( With a lot of love, Your Boyfriend and Gojo Satoru (his cool coach that helped him write this, thank me later. I have no idea how you handle this guy, but God is he such an amazing kid.) Looking back up from the card, you look at Yuuji, who is looking at you back, squeamish. Without another thought, you kiss him, soft and light ones on his forehead, his cheeks, his lips, everywhere on his face. When you finally pull away, both of you are staring at each other fondly. “Yes, I’ll help you fix your handwriting, dummy.” Yuuji gave you a toothy smile that he only saved for the special ones in his life.

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thewritewolf · 3 years

Text

After the End Chapter 13: Flower Shop

Marinette and Chat Noir talk about the future

First | Previous | Next | Last

@marichatmay

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

It was too chilly to be standing out on the balcony alone at this time of year, and especially with how late it was. The nearly-winter air only grew more biting when the sun sank below the horizon and if you closed your eyes you could almost smell the frost on the wind.

Thankfully, Marinette was not alone.

Between her jacket, sewn by her own hand to be as warm as it was fashionable, and being tucked snuggly against Chat Noir, the cold barely even crossed her mind. It was much closer than either of them would have been comfortable with just a couple months ago, but the nights they’d spent in each other’s company had slowly but surely shifted things between them. For now, neither of them wanted to examine those changed feelings too closely.

Instead, Marinette wanted answers to a different set of questions entirely.

“What are your plans for the future?”

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

The yellow tape with the words in all capital letters ‘CONDEMNED’ disintegrated into black ash along with the rest of the door. Chat Noir pulled back his hand, glanced around at the empty side street, and drifted inside noiselessly.

Finding this place had taken some ingenuity on his part - Marinette may have gotten his brain jogging, but there were a lot of options in the city. In the end, though, all he needed to do was find the ones that had been abandoned since at least the fall of Hawkmoth.

Taking a deep breath of the dusty, stale air that carried a hint of rot to it, Chat Noir knew that this place fit that description to a t.

Chat Noir blended into the shadows and began to search through the wreckage.

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

“I don’t know,” Chat said with a shrug. “Right now, I’m just focusing on my hero duties. There’s still a mystery that needs solving.”

“I mean, yeah, but don’t you have a life outside of this?” She ran a finger along the edge of his mask for a moment. “You’ve got to have a plan once everything on that side of it is resolved, right?”

“What’s your plan then?” He leaned on the balcony rail and looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Simple - I’m going to build a new fashion empire. After the Agreste brand imploded, there is space for something new to flourish.”

“You’re welcome for that.” Chat shook his head, staring off into the distance. “With everything that came to light after Hawkmoth got unmasked, it looks like they had it coming.”

A wave of anger washed over Marinette. She put a hand on her hip and jabbed a finger at Chat. “Listen. There was only one bad Agreste and I’m grateful for how you and Ladybug took him down, but the rest…”

She let go of Chat’s chin as the anger abated. All she was left with was a cold pit in her stomach, old doubts resurfacing as the memories of the days and weeks following the unmasking replayed in her mind. Was there anything else she could have done? Would Adrien still be in Paris, safe and happy with them, if she had done better?

“They were victims like everyone else.”

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

Even with his gentle footfalls, debris still crunched under his feet. Something about it tickled at the back of his mind. The devastation around him seemed almost… familiar.

Destruction was something of a specialty of his, after all. He’d seen cataclysm get used on countless objects and substances over the course of his years being Chat Noir. But it didn’t look like anything that the miraculous had done - there wasn’t enough ash and black decay for that. Then it suddenly hit him as he lifted a piece of wood that looked like it had vibrated apart.

His miraculous hadn’t inflicted this damage - this was the doing of the butterfly. Specifically, a sonic-based akuma back in January. That one was rough, with large swaths of the city getting screamed apart. But the miraculous cure had put everything back to normal, same as it always did.

So why hadn’t this place?

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

“There’s plenty of options for you!”

“You don’t know that much about me, Marinette,” Chat replied with a sad smile. “How can you possibly know what would make a good fit for me?”

“I don’t need to know what your face looks like to know something that fits your personality.” She snorted. “Well, except for modeling, but what would you model? Leather? Cat ears?”

“Yeah. Me, a model? Ridiculous.”

“Don’t worry, there’s lots of other stuff for you.” She took a theatrical few steps back, made a square with her fingers that she surrounded him with, and closed one eye. “How about… Chat Noir the circus clown!”

Chat laughed. “Oh, so you’re saying you always secretly liked my pun, huh? Then I’ve got a few more for you…”

“Oh right, you’ve got to actually be funny to be a clown.” She stuck her tongue out playfully to take the bite out of her words. “My bad.”

“Clown’s out then - what else you got?”

“Teacher? You’ve got a good head on your shoulders.”

“Eh, maybe. I like kids but I’ve never been much of an authority figure.” He whispered to her conspiratorially. “Don’t tell Ladybug, but I’m actually a big rebel. Sometimes I stay up a whole hour past my bed time.”

“Wow, next you’ll tell me you don’t even look both ways before crossing the street.”

“Of course I do, I’m an anarchist, not stupid.”

“Which brings me to my next Chat career - counsellor. Like helping people work through their problems?”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah…” she tapped his nose, making him blink. “I can tell those eyes have seen a lot. And yet, you’ve come through it. Maybe you can use what you’ve learned to help people?”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Anything else?”

“Well… and this one is a bit out there, but… How about opening a flower shop? You’ve always been such a romantic and- Chat? Are you okay?”

He had suddenly gone very stiff, his eyes widening as he took in a sharp breath. It seemed to pass quickly, suddenly replaced with a manic energy as his hand darted for his baton.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go! I just had an idea!”

“Wait, Chat-!”

But it was too late. He’d leapt off the balcony and gone running off into the night.

Marinette was left to wonder - did he really have an idea, or had she made him uncomfortable? Did thinking of the future really upset him so much?

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

Whoever had been here before must have left in a hurry and never come back, Chat Noir thought as he passed rows of decayed flower beds. Little was left of the beautiful plants except for gnarled twigs and rotten petals. It wasn’t what he was here for, but it did give him some hope that maybe, just maybe, the Gentlemen had forgotten something here.

If they had ever been here in the first place, that is.

Chat Noir stepped into the backroom of the former flowershop. The rubble that might have given a civilian difficulties yielded to super human strength and the slightest touch of Cataclysm. There, he found a small filing cabinet marked with the store’s name - Boutonnière Noir.

While he was grabbing what few files remained, intending to pour over them back at the mansion, the gleam of something metallic caught his eye at the bottom of the cabinet. Reaching in, he pulled out a badge that just barely fit in the palm of his hand. It had no words, but he knew in his heart that it was the symbol of the Gentlemen - a man with a top hat, a fanged smile, and a finger held up like a hush.

After one last look over the husk of the Boutonnière Noir, Chat Noir left with his spoils.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Chat Noir #Marichat #MarichatMay2021 #ml fanfiction #my writing #After the End

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elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years

Text

August Contest Submission #20: Love Delivered

Words: ca. 1,200 Setting: mAU Lemon: No CW: none

Did Elsa have any idea what she was doing? No, of course not. She was completely out of her element. Her heart was pounding and she desperately wanted to turn heel and head back out the way she had come in. She didn’t though, and tightly clasped her hands behind her back as she ventured forward. She had already been at the flower shop for half an hour. Nothing was standing out.

She paused in front of a flower with long, pink petals. She stole a glance at the name card: geraniums. Maybe she would enjoy these? For fuck’s sake, Elsa, you should have paid attention when she rattled off her favorite flowers. Why didn’t you?

Elsa snorted at herself. You know why; it’s the same reason you’re here to buy these damn things. Get a grip; her favorite was a spring flower with…yellow petals? No no, that can’t be right; yellow is one of her least favorite colors…

“Can I help you find something, miss?” Elsa jumped and swirled around to see an apron-clad young man standing behind her. A crooked tag on his apron told her his name was Kristoff and that he was a “flower expert.” Though she didn’t much feel like talking to anyone at the moment, Elsa sighed and admitted defeat to herself.

“I’m looking for a specific flower for my s-friend. But for the life of me, I cannot remember what it’s called. I‘m positive it’s a spring flower with… purple petals?” Elsa said as she made vague hand gestures. Kristoff’s lips twitched and Elsa could see the laughter in his eyes which brought her irritation to a new level. She breathed a sigh of relief when he nodded, gestured for her to follow, and headed off in a different direction.

“What about these?” Elsa looked at the flower that Kristoff was pointing to. It had long, purple petals cupped protectively around an orange stem. The card said: crocuses. Although the name sounded familiar, Elsa knew that these weren’t the right ones.

“Mmm, no. I recall the petals being wider than that.” They moved down a few displays.

“What about pansies?” Elsa eyed these new flowers that could have been what she was looking for, except there were too few petals on the stem and the purple hue was too light of a shade. So, she shook her head.

“No; too light, not enough petals.” Kristoff hummed and stroked his scruffy jaw. His eyes lit up and he snapped his fingers.

“Primrose.” Elsa just stared at him with a blank expression. Once again, there was laughter held back as he led her over to a bouquet of flowers that were just what Elsa was searching for. She rushed over with a grin on her face.

“Yes, yes! Thank you so much! I’m quite surprised you were able to decipher what flower I was vaguely describing,” she commented. Kristoff chuckled.

“Of course; we aren’t called flower experts just for the heck of it. How many would you like?”

“A dozen, please. And the nicest vase you have.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Elsa couldn’t believe she was actually going through with this. She readjusted the collar of her shirt for the fifteenth time as she slowly walked up the pathway. Her hair was free from any restraints and rested on her shoulders; a heavy contrast to the dark blue fabric of her suit jacket.

This was definitely the cheesiest thing she had ever done. The tapping noise of her heels against the pavement echoed in her head. This had better be worth it. Finally, she was at the bottom of the few stairs that led to the door of the house before her. She took several deep breaths before climbing them.

It took her a few more minutes to work up the courage to knock. She raised her hand, but before her knuckles made contact with the door, it opened. Her sister leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms over her chest. Though Anna’s expression was nothing short of annoyed, Elsa could hear the sharp intake of breath as she glanced over Elsa’s outfit.

“What do you want?” Anna asked quietly. Anna was wearing a robe and it was quite obvious that she wasn’t wearing anything beneath it. Anna cleared her throat and Elsa’s grip on the flowers in her hands tightened, reminding her of them. She suddenly thrust her arm out and it collided with Anna’s side, causing the younger woman to wince in pain.

“Oh, Anna! I’m so sorry!” Elsa said and made a move toward her sister but was stopped when Anna held up her hand. Her eyes fell on the flowers that Elsa held and her jaw dropped.

“Those are…” Elsa beamed and carefully held her hand out to Anna, tapping the flowers against her hand.

“Primrose flowers.”

“Are those for me?” Anna asked in a small voice. Elsa swallowed and nodded. Anna gently took them from her. Elsa slid the box of exotic chocolates from beneath her arm and handed them to Anna as well.

“Favorite flowers, favorite chocolate, favorite suit, and an apology from your favorite person. Or, well, I hope I’m still your favorite person,” Elsa said. Anna looked up at her with her jaw set.

“Well that depends, doesn’t it? What are you sorry for?” Anna’s direct tone only increased Elsa’s nervousness and fueled the fire that was building inside of her.

“I’m sorry that I’ve been preoccupied these last few weeks; working late, missing meals, not returning calls. I’m sorry that I put work before you,” Elsa paused to take a deep breath.

“Most importantly, I’m sorry for missing our anniversary. There isn’t really an excuse. I was just focused on earning more money so we could move out of this dump and I took it too far.” Silence fell except for the chirping of crickets and other insects that usually make their presence known in the dusk. Elsa shifted her weight uneasily.

“I’ve got a reservation at Finelli’s, if you’d be willing to join me for dinner.” Anna hummed and, instead of answering, she turned around and walked into the house. Elsa wasn’t sure if she should follow or not and opted for the latter, hoping Anna would return. She did just a few minutes later wearing a short, slitted black dress that had Elsa’s jaw on the ground.

Anna closed and locked the door. She faced Elsa with her hands on her hips. She took a moment to revel in the stunned face of her sister. She hooked her arm through Elsa’s, shaking her gently.

“Let’s go,” she said, tugging on Elsa’s arm. Elsa’s feet finally decided to move and they began to walk back to her car.

“So… am I forgiven?” she asked while opening the door for Anna, who took her sweet time sliding in so that Elsa got an idea of just how short the dress was.

“It depends,” Anna replied as Elsa shut the door. Before she could step away and walk around the car, Anna grabbed her tie and pulled until their lips met in a passionate kiss. When they finally parted, Elsa’s face was flushed and her breath was coming out in short pants.

“On what?” Elsa managed to breathe out. Anna smiled and licked her lips; there was a mischievous glint in her teal eyes.

“Dessert.”

#elsanna #submission #august 2021 contest #prompt: flowers

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kodie-ffxiv · 3 years

Text

#3 Scale

~Some random Allagan Ruins~

"So does this happen often?" The Little Seeker asked as she glanced about the small room, and then back to her husband.

Kodie at the same time of her question, was attempting to pry open the sealed door, however even with his enhanced gauntlets, there was no give. Not even the ten most strongest Roes could even get this opened. With that he stood back a bit shrugging.

"Yeah it happens, once or twice. Normally something else would trigger like gas, or whatever other traps that could kill us in a timely manner." He replied matter of factly.

M'teshi's eyebrows furrowed, she had just started adventuring with him. Most of the jobs with him were simple escort missions, protecting small caravans. Treasure hunting in ancient allagan ruins was new to her, it was scary but at the same time thrilling. She was beginning to understand why her husband enjoyed this line of work, why he seemed to be addicted to it. But of course, she wasn't excited about the current situation, especially knowing their time may be limited. "So uhhh, how do we get out of here?"

"Well, normally if we're short on time, I'll blast my way out. Explosives at the entrance, find a safe area, and boom. Buuuuut considering how small the room is, and also the amount of ceruleum is within these ruins, we'll probably cause a large explosion that will be felt several malms away."

"Oh...just several malms, great...yeah let's not try that here." Tesh spoke as her foot tapped on the floor, looking around the room again. "There has to be a way out of here."

The Midlander nodded as he reached into his inner jacket pocket, to grab his full metal face mask, slipping it on. Immediately the eyelets began to glow red as he began to scan the area. "Yup...found it." He pointed towards the panel that was several fulms above us.

Teshi looked upwards towards the direction he pointed, her eyes moving back as the height was even too tall for him. "You can't reach that!"

"Yup..and I also didn't bring Ari because she's charging up. Sooo I'm gonna boost ya up there, and you're gonna have to pry it open and cut the right wires." Kodie replied as he approached the part of the wall where the panel was.

The little Seeker's golden eyes widen once again. "Ummm are you sure I should do this? I mean if I cut the wrong wire...wouldn't that set something off? Like trigger that explosion you mentioned?" Asking as she hesitantly approached him, looking up towards the panel, showing a little bit of the nerves that had continued to linger.

"It'll probably trigger something, if not an explosion, probably alerting some Allagan Drones to attack us in here. Either way, I got faith in ya."

With out any further words, the Midlander removed his masked, , reached over, picking up the little Seeker with ease, causing her to let out an "eep!". She began to climb up him until her barefeet were on his shoulders, and his hands were securely around her ankles, just above her anklets. Looking down at him for a moment, she playfully narrowed her eyes at him, "Don't try anything funny.." her tone sounding somewhat serious, but it was a tone that Kodie was all too familiar with.

Looking up at her, he would give her a smirk. "You mean like the last time we were hiding out tracking those bandits?"

The response caused her cheeks to warm up, remembering that specific job. "Th..that didn't count, we were there for at least two days...a..and we were bored!!" She shook her head as her eyes moved away from him, grabbing her dagger. Her tail keeping her stead, in all honestly she didn't even need Kodie's hands to keep her still. After prying open the panel, she would find several sets of wires. "Okay soooo there's several colored wires here!"

The Midlander kept his glances upward, though in his position he was unable to see the wires. "Tell me the colors."

"Blue, green, yellow, and red. Two of each."

"Two of each? Alright, well first of make sure you only grab the two red wires, mess with the others could trigger something. You got to make sure each wire is cut separately, but with in a few seconds from each other...before you cut the first wire, let me know you're there."

Teshi nodded and moved slowly as instructed, going to the first wire, he quickly paused and tensed up as he finger almost tapped a near by blue wire, letting out a sigh she reached further inside until she was was able to grasp the first red wire, reaching in with her knife. "Okay I'm there.."

"Alright, give yourself a few moment, think about how you'll get the other wire. We only got one chance at this."

"Ummm..a..are you sure I should be doing this? What if I mess this up, and get us into trouble."

"You won't, Goddess...I believe in you."

The little Seeker closed her eyes and tried to calm herself down, letting out a deep sigh, her eyes reopened as she began to plot her approach to get both wires within the time limit. She could feel her heart beating fast, but knew she has to do this otherwise they'd be stuck here for who knows how long. With that she took a deep breath, squeezing the red quick with one hand and sliced to with the dagger hand. Tesh quickly reached towards the other red wire, trying not to touch the others, and with in a few moments, she cut the other.

With that, the room began to glow red, which caused her eyes to perk up, her eyes widen again with extreme worry she did something wrong as she carefully pulled her hands out of the wall. "Wha..?"

Then suddenly, the exit door began to open up, and the lights returned to it's usual normal self. Kodie turned towards the direction of the door, getting ready for any trouble, but found nothing. "Ha!! You did it!!"

The little Seeker felt a big relief, but then suddenly she felt herself being pulled to the ground, letting out another "EEP!" as she fell down, only to be caught by her husbands arms. His dark red eyes met with her golden ones, beaming proudly at her. "Never doubted you for a second."

She couldn't help but smile as her free hand reached over to caress her lover's cheek. She had her doubts about herself, but always knew no matter what, he had faith in her, that's what drove her to become an Adventurer, to handle things on her own, with out having to run and hide behind others. She sighed again as he hand settled down, telling him to set her down would be pointless, so might as well enjoy being carried around for awhile. "Let's get out of here before we set off another trap."

@mteshi-ffxiv

#FFXIVwrite2021 #Tesh and Kodee

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mirakumiruku · 4 years

Text

Night Life

bout time i posted something. hopefully it’s worth the wait! maybe i’ll make sequels with other babes if the interest is good...

Dabi/Touya x Reader Contains: Quirkless AU, Stripper!Dabi, drinking, multiple orgasms, unsafe sex WC: 4.7k Taglist: @nereida19

The red light district was intimidating to say the least. The first time you dared to venture into the streets brimming with debauchery, you were overwhelmed by the flashing neon lights, the bass-blasted music, the stench of alcohol lingering on people’s breath and cheap perfume wafting from the clubs.

You only made your journey to this den of earthly desires for one reason, a dancer you had heard your coworkers whispering about when they thought no one was listening. An intimidating man covered in piercings and haphazardly stitched leather, he always had the entire crowd hanging off his every move.

Needless to say, you were intrigued.

You picked up on the name of the club, Smokescreen. It didn’t take too much digging to find the address and hours of operation, it was deep in the city and while it was open for drinks starting at 9pm, the shows didn’t start until midnight.

You didn’t know when the dancer was going to go on, so you figured you may as well turn up for the first show and wait until you saw the man your coworkers had chatted about.

The lineup was interesting to say the least, but you could tell that each dancer had their fans, based on the walk they would do around the edge of the stage by the end of each of their sets, picking up the various bills for 100, 500, 1,000 yen. An energetic man with a mop of electric purple hair; a duo of a shy, muscular blond and a bubbly young woman with her hair in twin buns; a man that had come out in a mask that had tossed his top hat into the crowd at the start of his routine. Each would step onto the stage, put on an impressive show for their fans, then head backstage to get redressed before making their way out to the bar where there was a handful of people offering to buy them drinks.

It was getting late and you were starting to feel your drinks before a bass-heavy song with low electric guitar blared out of the speakers, and the lights dimmed. Figuring this seemed interesting, you picked up your drink and made your way to the proper stage area, where a crowd was gathering once more, far larger than those for the other performers.

The man that stepped out was tall, even without the high-heeled leather boots whose tops disappeared under the hem of his long leather trench coat.

The DJ announced the dancer’s name– Dabi –as he approached the pole at the center of the stage. His walk was leisurely, almost lazy, and a blue spotlight followed him down his path.

A hush fell over the crowd when he stopped, his hands coming to rest at the collar of his coat, only to cause an uproar when he ripped the coat off and tossed it behind him. Now you could see his deep crimson tank top, his skin-tight leather pants, his boots that only ended halfway up his thigh. He stood for a moment, basking in the squeals and bills that were already being tossed his way, before he finally got to work.

You almost couldn’t hear the cheering crowd around you, nor the blaring music as you watched the way he interacted with the cold metal, the way his hands gripped the chrome until his knuckles turned white, or how he held onto it with his muscular thighs as he flipped upside down. You swore that when he stuck his tongue out between his spread fingers, showing off his tongue piercing that glinted in the spotlight, his dazzling turquoise eyes met yours.

Though, you were sure that everyone else in the crowd was sure of the same thing.

Halfway through the routine he ripped off his top, tossing it into the crowd where it somehow landed in your hands. Some of the people around you clamored for it, but you held tightly to the dark red fabric without taking your eyes off Dabi. He was practically sparkling, from a combination of the various piercings that littered his body and the sheen of sweat that was visible on his skin.

The show was over far sooner than you would like, and Dabi ended his routine balancing himself in an upside down split, his chest notably heaving as the sweat dripped down his forehead. You pushed your way to the front to wave a 2,000 yen bill as Dabi made his way around the edge of the stage. He gladly took it, giving you a wink as he stuffed the bill in the waist of his pants. You thought you saw his eyes glint as they darted over the torn fabric in your hand, but it must have just been a trick of the light.

You found yourself back at the bar in a haze while Dabi collected his coat, making room for another blond decked in yellow and red. You ordered yourself another drink, gladly accepting it when the bartender slid it across the counter. You really didn’t realize how warm it had gotten in there.

Just as you pulled out some cash to pay for the drink, you felt a nudge against your shoulder and a deep voice came from behind you. “It’s on me, Kurogiri.” Your jaw fell open as a familiar leather jacket slid in next to you, elbows coming to rest on the counter. “Gotta give our new customers a warm welcome, yeah?” The man behind the counter, Kurogiri, gave a silent nod before going off to fill some other orders.

“I-I’d think that I should be buying you a drink…” You said with a nervous chuckle, swirling the liquid in your glass before taking a sip.

“Nah, you’re way prettier than I am. Besides,” Dabi gave a nod to Kurogiri as the barkeep slid a glass towards him, “I get plenty of free drinks, sweetheart. I don’t need another.”

You gave a nod, taking another swig of your own drink, your eyes not leaving Dabi as he downed half the glass in one go.

“So what brings ya here? I think I’d recognize such a cute face if you’d been here before.” Dabi shot a playful wink in your direction, and you were thankful that the dim lights hid your blush.

“Some… friends were talking about this place.” You took another sip, “About you, specifically.”

“Oh yeah? What’d they say?”

“Um…” You ran your finger around the rim of your glass, “Th-that you were hot, and the best dancer they’d seen.”

“And? Do you agree with them?”

Your face heated up a little more, and you gave a slight nod. “Mhm.”

“Good.” Dabi finished off his drink, “I’m headin’ to the back rooms for a smoke, care to join me?”

Part of you couldn’t believe that he actually asked you that, you tried to reason with yourself that no, he was just trying to be polite.

But while you were thinking, your body moved of its own volition to follow Dabi to a door labeled “employees only”, drawing envious looks from the others at the bar.

You blinked a few times to adjust to the bright fluorescent lighting of the back hall, a big contrast from the low lights in the bar. The hall had only a few doorways, one open and leading to the group dressing room, another leading to the stage, a third to the kitchen, and a fourth was a staircase up to the second floor.

Dabi led you up the stairs and down another hall, finally stopping to open a door and waving you into a small bedroom.

“I didn’t know clubs provided housing like this…” You mumbled, standing awkwardly beside the door as Dabi stepped inside, picking up a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the bedside table.

“They don’t usually. I’m just renting this one from the owner.” He opened a window before lighting the cigarette, taking a drag and letting the smoke slowly out of his nose. “I don’t think we got introduced properly. What’s your name?”

“(Y/N).”

“Pleasure to meet you, (Y/N). I’m Touya.”

“I thought you were Dabi?”

“What kind of idiot would use his real name for stripping?” Touya snorted, taking another puff off his cigarette.

“Yeah, guess you have a point…” You chuckled and finished off your drink, then set the glass on the bedside table.

Touya took a seat on his bed, and you sat across from him in a dining chair. The two of you let the silence hang in the air for a moment, before he broke the silence once more.

“So what were you lookin’ for down here, anyway? No one’s really ‘just curious’.”

“What do you mean?” You tried to avoid his piercing blue eyes and teasing smirk.

“I mean that everybody’s got some kinda motive. So what’s yours? For most people they just wanna put a wrench in their one-note life by throwing some paper at a half-naked dancer, but… I’m gonna assume that you aren’t so simple.”

“What do you mean…?” You gave Touya a curious look, your eyebrows knitting together and your lips drawing into a pout.

“I mean that if you were just trying to mix it up for a night, you probably would’ve said no to coming into my bedroom.” Smoke poured out from between Touya’s teeth as he gave you a grin, “But… I’m nothing if not a gentleman. So if you really don’t want anything else, I’m happy to take you back downstairs.”

Your face flushed bright red, but you shook your head from side to side.

Touya nodded, tapping his cigarette on an ashtray, “Good, been a while since I had a good lay, especially with a cute thing like you.” He shot you a mischievous wink before nodding to a minifridge near you.

“I’ve got some beers in there, you can make yourself at home while I finish this cig off, yeah?”

You didn’t have to be told twice, so you leaned over and opened the fridge, pulling out the bottle nearest to the front, along with the opener that sat atop the fridge itself. Dabi grabbed one for himself, holding it in his free hand while the ashes crept down the white paper. You were grateful that he had opened the window, knowing that you probably would be coughing up a storm if he hadn’t. You normally didn’t think of cigarettes as being ‘sexy’, believing them to be more odorous and irritating at best, but something about the way Touya pursed his lips around it as he took a breath in, and his soft sigh as he released the smoke through his nose or slightly parted mouth had you reeling over the sight.

“You never answered my question.” He finally drawled as he put out the last remaining smolders of his cigarette on the beat up ashtray.

“What was that again?” You hummed, taking a swig from the bottle in your hand.

“What’d you really come here for?”

“I was bored,” You mumbled, watching the brown liquid slosh in the bottle as you swirled it. “And lonely. Figured I could just pretend for the night.”

“Pretend what?”

‘That someone as hot as you might even look my way normally. If I wasn’t in part paying your bills.” You laughed, and the corner of Touya’s lip quirked up in response.

“I mean, you don’t have to pretend, sweetheart. There have been plenty that have thrown money my way and they’ve never managed to get under my skin, let alone between my sheets.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you quickly averted your eyes from the intense teal gaze. “So… what, then? Is it out of pity or something?”

“No, idiot.” He took a swig of his drink, “It’s because you’re fuckin’ sexy.” He smirked at you, his lids lowering, “Even if you are a little dense.” He barked out a laugh, setting his bottle aside as he fought to capture your suddenly bashful gaze. “What? You think I’m lying? If I wasn’t, why do you think I brought you up here?” He stood up and took a stride closer to you, then took a handful of your hair to force your line of sight onto him. “I could get any bitch I wanted, and I don’t particularly like wasting my time.” He leaned down, pressing a hungry kiss to your lips, and leaving a string of saliva between the two of you when he pulled away. “So why would I have bothered if you weren’t the hottest piece of ass in that bar?”

Your breath caught in your chest as you stared up at Touya, eyes blown wide and the taste of tobacco lingering on your lips. As much as you wanted to keep questioning why he’d go for someone as plain as you… it would be stupid to pass up an opportunity like this.

Questioning could wait for later.

Before you could even cement the idea in your head, you were already pulling Touya down by the collar into another fervent kiss, managing to take him by surprise.

He took it in stride, though. He straddled your hips, his leather-bound bulge pressing expertly against your own clothed sex, drawing a moan out of you. He started to move his hips in a fluid motion, and he moved to press your head into his chest. If this weren’t your first lap dance, it surely would’ve been the best.

With your face buried in between his pecs, his scent was strong, even under the cigarette smell. You could still catch whiffs of cologne and the sweat he had built up on the stage, and you let your tongue emerge from between your lips to lave against the fabric.

“Naughty little thing, huh?” Touya hummed, giving your hair a gentle tug. “Haven’t even started yet and you’re already acting like a grade A slut~”

He pulled away far sooner than you would’ve liked, standing up to his full height and dragging you along by the collar of your shirt. He backed up towards the bed, taking a seat on it and pulling you into his lap.

You were immediately on him once more, burying your face in his neck, leaving behind kisses and licks, desperately taking in his intoxicating scent.

“No marks, sweetheart. Can’t break the illusion, yeah?” Touya delivered a sharp smack to your ass, “I might have to punish you if you do.”

Part of you wanted to know what this punishment would be, wanted to leave his neck covered in bright purple bite marks that would be near impossible to cover with concealer. But… you could be patient for now, you could give into your desires and reap your punishment next time.

Well, assuming there is a next time. You’d have to see how tonight goes.

The two of you began shedding your clothes, they were only a wrapping for the real prize after all. You watched hungrily as Touya revealed his piercings and soft pale skin; shiny metal rings were pierced through each of his nipples, which earned you a gasp when you gave the pink flesh a gentle tug.

Touya retaliated with a tug on your own nipples once all the barriers were removed, and your legs quivered at his rumbling laugh.

You removed your pants and underwear first, gasping softly as the cold air hit your dripping sex, which Touya quickly warmed up by circling two of his fingers over your clit.

Once he deemed you ready, he started to unbutton and unzip his pants. The leather didn’t leave much to the imagination, but you were still surprised and a little intimidated by his size, but the real star of the show was the row of shining silver piercings that ran up the underside of his cock in a Jacob’s ladder. Part of you wondered how that could possibly be comfortable against the pole, but you were mostly thinking about what they would feel like rubbing against your velvety walls.

“What do you think, babydoll?” Touya hummed, his hand tangling in your hair as you sank to your knees in front of him, admiring the metal that sat snugly against his skin.

Instead of responding, you leaned forward and licked up the column of piercings, eliciting a low moan from the man above you.

“Ah, fuck…~” He groaned softly, tugging gently on your hair. You purred in response, sucking at the head of his cock and licking away the precum with the tip of your tongue. “You really are fuckin’ cute,” Touya mumbled, his voice low and gravely with arousal. “But you already know that, huh?”

You smirked up at him, wordlessly answering his question, before diving back in to shower his length in kisses and kitten licks. Touya took your ministrations with a surprisingly calm air, the only giveaways being the hitching in his breath, and the single bead of sweat that ran down the side of his face.

You started slowly kissing, licking, and nibbling up his body. Over the thin white happy trail and abs that looked carved marble, taking care to tease at his pierced nipples as you continue your journey up over his chest, to his neck, then finally pressing a heated kiss to his lips.

He growled softly into the kiss, grabbing you by your thighs and pulling you into his lap. You ground your slit against him, gasping when the piercings caught on your clit, sending shocks of white-hot pleasure through your body. You lined yourself up, your dripping cunt grazing over the flushed pink head, only to find yourself being flipped over onto the sheets.

“Patience, sweetheart.” Touya hummed, positioning himself between your thighs and pinning you to the mattress with his hands on your hips. “I dunno who you’ve been with, and I don’t really care, cus I’m gonna make sure I’m the best lay you’ve ever had.” He smirked, one hand ghosting over your skin to trace his fingers over your opening. “First you’re gonna cum on my fingers, then on my tongue, and only then will you get to cum on my cock.” He licked his lips, grinning when he heard the sound of your walls clenching around nothing. “That’s assuming you’re still conscious, that is. Wanna make sure you’re awake for all of it.”

With that he sunk two fingers into your waiting pussy, humming in content as your doughy insides clung to the digits, and smirking at the sweet mewl that made its way out of your lips.

Your eyes fluttered closed at the sudden intrusion, your hips canting up from the bed only to be held down by Touya’s other hand. His skin was sweltering against your own, and you could already feel the sweat beading on your forehead.

“So fuckin’ cute…” Touya purred, curling his fingers to pet against the spongy spot just inside of you. He drank up your needy moans in a feverish kiss, taking your panting mouth as an opportunity to run his tongue along yours. Normally you would’ve cringed at the pungent taste of cigarettes still on his mouth, but something in your arousal-addled mind loved it, savoring his signature taste.

Touya was clearly experienced with his hands, the way he ground his thumb over your clit and thrusted his middle and ring finger inside you, making sure he attacked the spot that made you see stars.

You panted when he pulled away, the tip of your tongue hanging out of our mouth as if trying to chase his own.

“You’re really needy, aren’t you, babydoll?” Touya cooed, his free hand coming up to cup your chin and thumb at your lower lip. “What’s the matter, haven’t had someone take care of you like this before?”

You shook your head, any memories of past lays fleeting from your mind as all that could occupy your thoughts was the man above you.

“Good. I’d hate to be anything but the best,” He punctuated his words with a quick kiss to your lips, “Especially for such a sweet thing like you.”

You whined and tried to chase his lips with your own, the knot of pleasure in your stomach growing tighter and tighter with each harsh thrust of Touya’s fingers, forcing desperate moans from your mouth.

All it took was Touya’s predatory smile and a pinch to your swollen clit to get you to squeal, the edges of your vision turning white and your back arching off the bed with your orgasm.

“Mmh, you really are cute when you cum, huh babydoll?” Touya purred, pulling his fingers out and pressing them into your open, panting mouth. You eagerly sucked at them, eliciting a groan from Touya as your drool dripped onto his palm.

You whined at the loss when he pulled his fingers from your mouth, wiping your saliva off on the sheet. “Don’t get all loopy on me now, sweetheart. I’m nowhere near done with you.”

You squeaked in surprise as your hips left the mattress, and again as Touya’s breath ghosted over your sensitive heat.

“Ready for round two, babydoll?~”

Even if you wanted to say no, the way Touya dragged his tongue over your slit made you think that he wouldn’t take that for an answer anyway.

He was slower now that he was devouring your sex, his sinful tongue lapping over your ower lips and dripping entrance, drawing squeals out of you every time his silver piercing flicked over your clit.

Your hands immediately found purchase in Touya’s hair, drawing a purr out of him as your fingers carded through his locks that had been so clearly damaged from all the dye and gel over the years. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about its scratchy texture though, not when it was only serving as a handle to bring that wicked mouth further into your core.

Touya purred into your sex, tongue probing against throbbing walls with practiced ease and fingers rubbing over your clit in tight, adept circles. You clamped your thighs down around Touya’s ears at a particularly pleasurable lap, and as much as he hated having your sweet sounds muffled, he was more than pleased with your warm skin pressing tightly to his own, pulling him even closer in. A sign of exactly how much pleasure he was bringing you.

You couldn’t take your eyes off Touya, not when his beautiful turquoise orbs were staring so intently at your flushed-red face, at your pouting lips and the tongue darting from between them.

Your jaw hung open as you panted and blubbered out moans and nonsensical fragments of sentences, pleads for ‘more’ and praise for Touya’s masterful ministrations.

You were so focused on the Adonis between your legs, you hardly even noticed your end nearing until it was too late, until you were already feeling the white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins and you were tossing your head back from the force of it all.

Of course, Touya lapped up all of your slick, purring at the taste and making sure he didn’t stop until you came down fully.

Once your thighs dropped from around his ears, Touya managed to pry himself away and crawl up onto the bed, caging you in with his hands planted on either side of your head.

“Still with me, baby?”

You slowly nodded, only to feel a calloused hand at your chin, pulling you to face him directly.

“I’m gonna need a ‘yes’ if you want me to keep going.”

“Y-yes, Touya…” You breathed, leaning into his surprisingly tender touch.

“Good,” He purred, swiping his thumb over your lower lip. “Wanna make sure you’re here to get the full experience, y’know?” He smirked when he saw your miniscule nod, “Besides, it’s not fun for me unless you’re all there, screaming my name, begging for more…” His voice lowered to a growl right into your ear, right before he was delivering a playful nip to your earlobe.

You could feel Touya’s hard cock against your quivering sex, the piercings dragging along your clit and sending near-electric shocks through your lower body.

“Ready, babydoll?” Touya whispered in your ear, lining up the head of his cock with the entrance to your heat.

As soon as the breathy “yes,” escaped your lips, Touya thrust his hips forward. He only buried a few inches inside you, but it ripped a pleased gasp from you anyway.

He was gentle as he slowly speared you open, drawing sweet moans from your sweet, pouty lips with each centimeter of his length. The piercings that ran down his cock produced a delicious drag against your walls, heightening the experience even further.

Once he was fully seated inside you, Touya lowered his forehead to press against yours, his heavy breathing apparent as he gazed into your eyes, waiting for your signal. At your subtle nod, and your murmur of ‘please’, he pulled out at a torturously slow pace. Just before you could whine for more, his hips snapped back into you.

He set a relatively gentle pace to start with, the slap of skin on skin and both of your heavy breaths being the only noise audible above the music from the club below.

It was only when you whined out pleas for more, Touya, more that he finally picked up the pace, much to your relief. His hands held your sides in a bruising grip, and he leaned down to capture your lips in a fervent kiss.

You could taste yourself on his tongue, along with the lingering flavor of alcohol and cigarettes. A normally unappealing combination, but since it was Touya, you devoured it that much more.

His cock felt burning hot inside you as your plush insides clung to him, the piercings dragging along your sensitive areas, distracting you from Touya’s wandering hand landing on your clit. He rubbed small circles into the bundle of nerves, earning a gasp and a moan from you.

No matter how many times you had been with others or played with yourself, you had never felt this full. Each time Touya’s hips retreated, you couldn’t help the disappointed whine as you were emptied, even if only for a second.

“T-Touya, I…~” Your voice came out high and breathy, jostled by the steady gyration of Touya’s hips.

“Getting close, sweetheart?~” He cooed, pressing a coy kiss to your nose. “I can tell, the way you’re milking my cock like that…” His voice delves into a growl, his eyes shutting as he presses his forehead to yours. “You really know how to get me riled up, huh, babe?”

Your mouth hung open, puffing out breathy moans each time Touya pistoned his hips into you. His hands were all over your body, circling your clit, pinching your nipples, holding your hips tight enough to leave bruises. He paid attention to your neck, pierced lips ghosting over the sensitive skin, leaving tiny kisses, nips, and licks. He was careful, not leaving any bruises above the collar. He obviously knew what he was doing.

All his ministrations sent the knot in your stomach winding even tighter, and you could feel yourself nearing your edge, when before you knew it you were already falling over it.

White-hot pleasure filled your veins, sending your head back as you let out a cry of orgasmic bliss, your tongue hanging from your grin. You held Touya close, arms wrapping over his shoulders and legs over his hips, keeping his thrusts shallow as he neared his own edge. He let out his own feral growl as he reached his own limit, and you felt his spunk filling you, leaving a pleasant warm sensation in your stomach.

“Shit…” Touya mumbled, though he made no move to get up. “You’re on the pill, right?”

You nod, and he breathes a sigh of relief.

“Thank god…” He groaned, slowly pulling his softening cock from your heat and laying down beside you.

“What?” You shoot him a tired, but playful smile. “Am I not cute enough to have a kid with?”

“Nah,” He hummed, pulling you so your back rested against his chest, “Just don’t think I’m able to pay child support, y’know?” He laughed, prompting a giggle of your own.

“Makes sense…” You rested your head back, leaning into Touya’s hand as he played with your locks.

“Maybe if you keep visiting, something can be arranged~” Touya purred, leaving a nip on the shell of your ear.

“Maybe so…”

Normally, the night life wasn’t for you. But if it meant seeing Touya…

Maybe you could make an exception.

#dabi #dabi x reader #touya #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #todoroki touya x reader #touya x reader #bnha x reader #bnha smut

263 notes · View notes

uwua3 · 4 years

Note

i love your spoiled sakuya hcs and the juza hcs with the baker s/o, they were so adorable!! ♡ can i have hcs for masumi with an s/o who likes to bake too and they're trying to teach masumi how to bake by baking together?

ah, thank you so much!!! your support means the world to me, thank you for taking the time out of your day to read my work TT you’re even more adorable!!! for someone who knows nothing about baking, i love sweets too much so i cannot wait to do this prompt :D i hope to make you happy with this ♡

summary: for someone who didn’t eat sweets, masumi sure ate a lot of your baking

author’s note: i loved writing this despite my lack of baking experience TT please enjoy a tsundere! masumi and a reader who is doing their best :D thank you for reading~

word count: 4,121

music: if i could ride a bike – park bird, chevy, the girl i have a crush on – frad

all you need is love... and cookies!

🌸💌 usui masumi

ever since you could remember, you’ve always aspired to be a baker

you were the kid who walked by bakeries and had to push your face against the glass at the sight of pastries. you were definitely the type to admire and double tap every post concerning cute creations just because it made you happy. you filled your mouth with so much sugar, your dentist definitely had to see you every year

so when you proudly shared to the boys you were pursuing baking, you purposely left out the fact you had begged the bakery staff to hire you despite having no experience

(you were really only hired due to your clear passion for anything sweet, but an opportunity was a chance to do even better!)

at first, your part–time shifts at the local veludo way bakery meant you always had extras to take home. but now, you had acquired the position of an amatuer apprentince who spent all their time after school perfecting their craft

professional, well–done masterpieces wrapped in pristine, elegant white boxes became sloppy, edible creations with just as much love, much to the confusion and disappointment of the dorms

so when it became apparent that you weren’t naturally blessed with the talent to be the best baker in the world, it ate away at you ever since you stared back at the collapsed cake across from you (it didn’t take long before you were back on register duty for the day)

you could tell none of the mankai boys truly enjoyed your food when they couldn’t even force themselves to finish it (not even juza)

this meant you had practically taken over the limited space the kitchen offered to practice even more, focusing on exact measurements and mixtures just to mess up every single time

you were this close to giving up and binging bake–offs on tv to feel even more insecure of your abilities before you noticed something out of the ordinary this time

crouching down to look at the open fridge, you smiled despite the flour staining your apron and sugar you accidentally wiped across your forehead

the cupcake you made yesterday... that was nearly toppled over with uneven amounts of icing, perhaps your worst invention yet, was gone

did this mean... someone ate it?

you were about to close the door, before you noticed there was a note left instead in the place of the missing dessert

“you did a good job. don’t give up.”

your heart swelled with pride once you realized someone in the dorms genuinely believed in your skill. you squealed and performed a celebration dance in the middle of the kitchen, jumping up and down from the praise

you picked your head up and fixed the baker’s hat that was about to fall off, before turning the paper around and noticing something scrawled on the back

“you can’t substitute butter for cream cheese, you know.”

you blinked before reading it again, feeling a light bulb above your head. attempting the recipe you just failed with a new sense of determination, you realized you did mix up the yellow ingredients

oh... whoops!

(you were so involved and dedicated to your work that you didn’t notice a black–haired boy lean against the door frame for a second with a slight smile before leaving)

from then on, you didn��t give up, just like the note told you to!

every time you made a new product, you expected it to be gone the next time you took a break from the kitchen. you began enjoying the process more than anything, following recipes exactly with few, minimal errors

it helped every time the person who finished eating your dessert left truthful, straightforward reviews on the back of their praise! somehow, they always knew what went wrong and genuinely assisted you in trying again and again

your effort paid off! slowly but surely, you were able to make your favorites presentable, tasty, and worthy of sharing with others! the better you got, the more optimistic your attitude became—you could do this, you got this!

quitting was a thing of the past now, how could you give up when you’ve come this far? you knew you couldn’t have done it without that one fateful note from your first customer

the mankai dorm noticed your renewed energy at your passion and slowly reaped the benefits. you would put aside one of every creation of yours for the mystery critic, but offered the rest to the boys as a way to thank them for their continous support (even if it wasn’t through eating in the beginning)

yet, as you took the trey of muffins from the oven early in the morning to prepare quick breakfast for the actors, you frowned at the thought of one boy: masumi

no matter how many times you tried, masumi wouldn’t eat your food. it didn’t matter if you wrote his name on it with icing or specifically made a treat based on his favorite flavor, he wouldn’t take it. he’d barely glance at you with a resounding “no” in front of everyone before slipping his headphones back on

it was truly an awkward sight to behold. a quiet, seemingly annoyed teenage boy coming home late from a long day of school and an discouraged part–time baker still in their academy uniform and apron, holding a platter of something good, mind you!

as you individually wrapped each muffin and wrote each person’s name on a sticky note before moving on to pack boxed lunches for the high school students (yourself included), you hesitated on masumi’s before deciding to take that one and leave it for your secret food reviewer

if he wasn’t going to enjoy it, at least someone would

as everyone began waking up, you let out a sigh of relief after laying out all the food you prepared the day of organized by name. all in a day of hard work and the endless compliments from the sleepy kids and appreciative adults made it all worth it

for some reason, as masumi walked inside the kitchen with his headphones already on, you unintentionally let out a disappointed sigh as he walked past your beautiful display. not even a look, did he not like you?

(you strangely felt disappointed from the thought of masumi not liking you, you wanted him to see you as a friend)

after having breakfast together, you left with the high school boys, animatedly discussing whatever homework you guys had (which taichi never finished as he begged for answers) and upcoming classes

on the way out, maybe if you weren’t challenged by banri to see who could sprint to the end of the street the fastest, you would’ve noticed how masumi lingered behind to grab a snack. he opened the refridgerator to take a specific one, just for him

the mankai boys liked meeting up with each other at the local park once the final bell rang just to update each other on how the day went on the way home, but you always had bakery duty right after, rushing out of the doors to wave goodbye to your friends

“thank you for the lunch!” they thanked you again gratefully, wishing you well as you two went your separate ways. masumi was always at the back of the crowd and avoided looking your direction, moving on without a single word

as masumi led the way to pick up muku and yuki, sakuya walked by his side with a curious glance towards his blazer jacket. without warning, sakuya reached out to brush something off his collar

“sorry, masumi–kun! you had... crumbs?” sakuya trailed off quietly, noticing how masumi’s face was slowly becoming red. anyone would’ve missed it, but not his own observant best friend

when sakuya connected the dots on why masumi didn’t eat lunch with him and banri, he simply just hummed a sound of acknowledgement before joining in on the lively conversation between the o high boys

masumi turned his music volume up without looking at anyone, not seeing sakuya’s quiet smile

masumi didn’t even like sweets that much, but he ate the muffin? sakuya thought before eventually getting distracted by tenma, who nudged him with a concerned look

it wasn’t him he should be worried about, what about masumi?! sakuya turned before doing a full 360 with wide eyes. he rapidly looked both ways before grabbing tenma’s shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed

“tenma! did you see where masumi went?”

“oh, he said he had class or something?”

“class? for what?”

you finally clocked out for your shift, hanging your apron back up on the wall of hooks as you placed your name tag back with your uniform. before you could leave, you heard someone call for you to come back

oh no... were you... in trouble?! you gulped, turning on your heel to come face to face with your boss, who’s expression remained strict and stoic as ever. this was it, you were going to get fired and goodbye culinary school—

“rookie, you did good,” your boss started and you felt like you were on a sugar rush. did renowned, highly experienced head baker of the whole establishment just compliment you? before you could pass out from the praise in front of everyone, he continued

“but not great.”

oh. you were about to collapse, but for a completely different reason now. of course you weren’t that good...

“but good enough for this.” he passed to you a flyer with a ticket before leaving, not bothering to check your reaction. he was always like that, a man of a few words, it reminded you of mas—

wait, teaching a baking class?

you paused, bringing the paper closer to your eyes as you skimmed the headline and details beneath the cute promotional doodles decorating the design

the community center was holding a local baking class this evening (taught by employees of your own bakery!). it seemed like it was aimed at every person in any possible demographic with the large, easy–to–read font for the elderly and childish drawings for the youth

you wondered why you hadn’t heard of it before, putting the ticket in front of you to see your name and your lucky number on the pass. how coincidental, maybe this was a sign you should go

you looked up at the sound of someone clearing their throat in front of you. your boss suddenly seemed much less intimidating but more... fatherly? he ruffled your hair and attempted a smile (it looked more like a grimance, but you appreciated the effort)

“you love baking, right? have fun, get some training in.” you grinned and forced him into a hug. “thank you!” you responded, squeezing him tightly and ignoring how you were this close to being put on the early bird rotation

“get off me before i fire you.”

“yes, chef!”

when you put back on your baker’s apron and travelled with the rest of the staff to the community center to help set up, you were practically bouncing with uncontrollable energy in the back seat as you watched the evening lights turn on throughout the town

this was a sign! you had improved so much, you got promoted to teaching a community baking class because you’ve made it that far! nothing could ruin this!

or, so you thought

when you perfectly laid out the set of ingredients and utensils ready for each station, you glanced at the list at your side to see who your partner would be

as you read down the columns, you were internally hoping maybe for a sweet, wise grandmother who carried candy in her vintage purse. or, even an enthusiastic, blabbering child whose parents watched on from the side with maternal pride and love. anyone, really!

you hummed to the tune of some family friendly music from the radio, the bright yellow lights illuminating the makeshift kitchen as you somehow ignored the team’s volleyball practice happening upstairs

you followed your finger on the paper, landing on your name with a smile. yet, the look on your face completely disappeared as you double–checked to make sure it was yours

the name besides yours was blank? while others signed their full names, your partner either didn’t exist or had no alias to go by

“chef?” you asked your boss, causing him to look up from the front of the room with a blank expression. right... he was still your scary head pastry chef that definitely had multiple chances to fire you at this point

“um... how come the name for my station is blank?” you nervously questioned from his soulless stare before he rubbed his forehead with a sigh, as if burdened to actually think this time. then, he snapped his fingers together so suddenly you were startled

“there’s a kid who’s been going here for a while now, but he never tells us his name. you got him tonight.”

wow, that was the most the boss ever spoke to you, or in general

“do i make myself clear, rook?”

“yes, chef!”

you didn’t dare question him any further, just obediently wiped down your glistening metal table and avoided his harsh hawk eyes at any time possible

when the clock hit 8pm, you giddily tried your best not to hop up and down as you watched people stream into the kitchen. most were regulars, you noticed as the team happily greeted their typical partners

luckily, the list of attendees had increased so you were now a certified local teacher to the public. you tried to look the part and not smile too wide, hiding your obvious excitement at the new role. you glanced around with an eager look, trying to locate the kid your boss referred to earlier

“are you looking for your partner?” your co–worker randomly asked, walking up to you out of no where. you blinked multiple times, trying to see if they were talking to you before confirming they were, smiling nervously from the rare interaction

“yeah, i’m really excited!” you laughed, rubbing the back of your neck as you kept your eyes on the door. your co–worker nodded, waiting for their guest as well as they leaned against the wall, crossing their arms casually

“you should be. he’s a real natural at all this, you know, despite doing it for such a short time.” they commented, not saying any more once they waved to their partner coming in. you turned towards their retreating figure, about to ask for more information before you felt someone move next to you, their eyes trained on your back intensely

right, nothing could ruin this for you, not even—

your eyes widened and you nearly dropped the whole mixing bowl you had been playing with

—masumi

masumi blinked, before spinning around to quickly try to make his way out of the room. you didn’t think before you acted, impulsively latching onto his black jacket sleeve and wincing at his sneakers skid to a stop on the floor

“listen, i know you don’t like me, but—” you mumbled, feeling less confident by the second the more he stared at you over his shoulder. it was the first time he had his headphones off for more than a minute around you, you didn’t know what to say to someone you barely knew

“you think i don’t like you?” masumi spoke for once, his deep voice shocking you but his words were an even bigger surprise. you were about to respond before the head chef began class, your boss ordering everyone to get ready or be left behind

(a few lighthearted chuckles travelled throughout the room but you shuddered internally, knowing boss wasn’t joking)

masumi seemed to debate between leaving and embarrassing you completely in front of your staff or staying to endure a painful, awkward two hours with you before he sighed, putting on his own apron without looking at you once

you didn’t have anything to say, maintaining the large distance between you two with a frown

maybe one thing, or person, could ruin this for you... how did he end up being your partner?!

as head chef went around to introduce the recipe for tonight, you didn’t know what to do. you had never talked to masumi one on one, he usually hung back with sakuya or trailed after izumi seeking validation. what could you say to someone who supposedly didn’t care for you at all?

when chef let the groups start, you picked up the cookie recipe and thanked whoever was listening it was something you could make in your sleep. you were about to start before masumi peered over your shoulder, trying to read with you

right, you had to work together with masumi or else you’d be the worst teacher ever

you slid the paper to the middle of the table, reading the first step out loud and masumi was already on it, moving to preheat the oven to 375 degrees without hesitation

you stopped, looking at him with slight shock once again. he was strangely good at taking orders without questioning a thing, you thought he would’ve given you at least some attitude

(maybe, he wasn’t as mean as you thought he was)

he returned, flicking the highlighted black hair out of his face with an unreadable look to his eyes. he waved his hand in front of your face, breaking your haze as you blushed from getting caught staring

“what’s next?” masumi bluntly asked, and you were quick to focus again and immediately went into your professional mode, missing the way masumi admired your dedication before pretending he was getting busy

without wasting time, masumi was whisking white flour, salt, and baking soda in a small bowl while you were consistently swirling a cup of butter over a saucepan, both of you working oddly well together without much words needing to be exchanged

huh... maybe he wasn’t all that bad. of course masumi was a good baker, what wasn’t he great at?

yet, you didn’t think he liked it. he didn’t eat too much sugar to begin with, what made him want to learn how to bake in the first place?

“i haven’t seen you teach here before.” masumi said, trying to start the conversation. you did a double take, wondering if he was serious or just plain condescending before you shrugged, keeping your eyes on the butter

“chef wanted me here for the first time tonight.” you awkwardly responded, feeling the tense silence in the air even as other stations around you loudly chatted with one another. masumi nodded, seemingly paying attention even as he whisked with precision you wished you had

“must mean you’ve become a good baker.” masumi replied and you couldn’t help but smile, thinking of the note you were going to come home to in the fridge

“hopefully.” you simply said, trying not to sound bitter as you didn’t let the rest of your sentence leave your mouth. you wanted to ask how masumi would know that if he hadn’t even tried any of your pastries, but you didn’t want to start anything

when the butter browned, you moved it to a heatproof bowl and continued the process, cutting up small blocks of butter again to add it to the brown butter

masumi looked over your shoulder again with a hum of approval (you deny ever feeling a sense of pride swell in your chest) before going back to his task, mumbling something that made you freeze in your steps

“looks like you didn’t mix up the butter and cream cheese this time.”

your breath hitched as you gripped the bowl, eyes wide as your thoughts ran a mile a minute. masumi picked up on your stillness, turning to ask if you were okay before you whipped around to look him in the eyes

“what?” you breathed out as masumi looked any where but you. before you could continue to interrogate him, you felt a looming presence behind you with a familiar bark

“rook! get back to work or go home!”

you and masumi quickly got back to your positions, already scared by your chef’s loud booming voice as you two did your jobs with fear as your motivation

“yes, chef!” you called out, masumi following your example as you two followed the recipe perfectly, even as you snuck in a glance at him every time you thought he wouldn’t notice

when you pushed the parchment–lined baking sheet into the oven and closed it gently, you took a moment to breathe in and out, trying to process the exposed truth that was between you two now

you couldn’t believe it: masumi was your first “customer” ever. he was the one who encouraged you to keep baking with genuine praise and heartfelt comments about what you did right. he helped you improve with useful criticism on things you did wrong and furthered your growth as a baker. without having him, you wouldn’t even be here

but you couldn’t help but think, why?

why did he want to help you? you thought he didn’t actually like you... did he want to be, your friend?

(maybe, even more?)

you jumped up and nearly hit your head on the oven bar, making masumi hurry to your side with a slightly startled expression. you were about to apologize before he laid his hand against your head, unintentionally coming closer, concerned about why your face was so red

you barely managed to get out the excuse about the heat from the oven, but you knew he doubted it as he slowly nodded and stepped back. you followed him back to your table to clean up, but you couldn’t keep it together with the rapid beat of your heart and permanent blush on your cheeks

did... did you like masumi?

was that why you were so disheartened every time you offered sweets and he didn’t take any? is that why you always made an effort to be friends with the mysterious student before eventually giving up when he didn’t respond? oh my god, did you always like him this way?

you turned to look at him again but this time, he was already staring at you. you were about to run and hide forever from the embarrassment before your co–worker from before showed up, recognizing masumi and greeting him like they were best friends

“i see you’ve met the kid. he looks mean but once you get to know him—” they reached up to knock their fist against masumi’s head fondly, ignoring the way masumi grumbled dramatically about his hair, “he’s a real sweetheart.”

you forced an awkward laugh before going back to cleaning, noticing how your co–worker kept going on, missing the way you were acutely eavesdropping on the conversation

“you impress that person, yet?” they joked, to which masumi silently glared at them to shut up. they didn’t whatsoever

“come on, you’ve had to at this point! what kind of guy takes baking classes just to help their crush?”

beep! the oven sounded, causing you to rush over to escape the discussion. it was all coming together and it didn’t take long before you connected the dots on what’s been happening the past few months

when you came back with your glove mitts on, you placed the trey down and let the cookies cool down, standing side by side to admire you and masumi’s creation

as masumi opened his mouth to compliment the work, like he always did, you beat him to it

“... you like me.” you dropped out of no where. cue the silence, again. it was like this whole bonding exercise didn’t even happen, you could feel masumi about to tug on his headphones. yet, you kept talking and saying all the things you’ve always wanted to tell him

“you ate my food every day, even if you don’t like desserts that much, because you like me.”

quiet, again. he wasn’t saying no, he couldn’t say you were wrong because you were right

“you took baking classes to help me, because you like me.”

you wanted to be more than friends with masumi, you knew that now, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he still felt the same way

you got your answer when masumi picked up a cookie and split it into two evenly, offering the other half to you with a flustered appearance, like this was his confession

you took the cookie and knew, this was the start of something sweet

(“hey, finish cleaning already, rookie! i don’t pay you to be in love with your boyfriend!”)

(“yes, chef!”)

you received the first note with masumi’s name written at the end

“we should bake together again.”

#usui masumi #masumi usui #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #a3! headcanons #act! addict! actors! headcanons #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #masumi x reader #a3! masumi #a3 masumi

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crystalninjaphoenix · 3 years

Text

MerMay 2021 Day Fourteen TridentCorp

This was no place for children to be running around. While there was nothing particularly dangerous in the rooms of the Institute, researchers kept giving the pair of twelve year olds sideways looks. They might break one of the tanks and cause water to pour out onto the floor, or mess around with some of the files and get them all out of order. Nobody actively stopped them, but everyone had an expression of “whose kids are those and why are they here?”

“Okay, I’m bored,” Sereia declared, hanging off the doorknob of a nearby door and causing it to swing on its hinges. “Do you wanna go see what Mom and Dad are doing, or do you want to look at more nerd stuff?”

“Nah, I’m bored, too.” Muirin had been staring at a tank of starfish, but they weren’t exactly doing anything. “We’ve seen everything.”

“Alright, c’mon then.”

The two of them left, heading over to an area near the back of the Institute, far away from any entrances. They slipped past a few secure-looking doors, seeming quite proud of themselves for being able to do so, until they came to a room near the corner. This room was made to look as friendly as possible, with wide windows, walls painted a pale blue, and a pair of sofas. Though perhaps this cheerful appearance was undermined by the large tank of water in the center, surrounded by various strange equipment. Next to it was a smaller tank on wheels, with a tarp on the floor that had been used to cover it.

“We’re back!” Sereia announced, slamming the door behind her and Muirin. “What’s up?”

Stacy immediately looked up. “Everything went alright? You didn’t get in any trouble?”

“Mom, please, would we tell you if we did?” Sereia said.

The other woman in the room, wearing a bright yellow shirt underneath a jacket with the words ‘Institute of Marine Biology’ written on the back, laughed. “Ah, Reia, you get sassier every time I see you.”

Sereia looked proud at that. “Thanks, Aunt Roxy!”

“Nothing happened,” Muirin said, playing with the visitor’s pass in a lanyard around his neck. “Except people looking at us weird. Did anything happen in here?”

“Not much,” Stacy assured them. “Right, Chase?”

Chase was in the smaller tank, the one with wheels—or, well, actually, he was half out of it, pretty much leaving only his tail in the water, and leaning over into the other tank. For a moment, he didn’t look away from the merm floating in the other tank. Jack. Asleep as ever, tethered to those strange machines that served a variety of purposes, from nutrition to monitoring his condition. There hadn’t been any change in the past few months. Chase had been chattering to him in the strange merm language, but he’d gone silent a few minutes ago and just held Jack’s hand. It took a solid few seconds for Stacy’s question to register. “Hmm?” Chase looked up, and nodded, waving at the kids. “Hi, shellies. Have fun?”

“Yeah, Dad, don’t worry,” Muirin said. “It was pretty cool.”

“Well the fish were cool, when we saw them,” Sereia modified.

Roxy looked troubled. “You didn’t touch any of the tanks, did you? A lot of the fish and sea creatures we have are being kept because they were found injured. Tapping or anything wouldn’t be good for them.”

“No, we know that, don’t worry!” Muirin hurried to add.

Stacy laughed a bit.

“Oh? What’s so funny?” Roxy asked.

“It just occurred to me that it’s strange how we both went into the fish business,” Stacy chuckled, shaking her head. “I mean, I had a good reason to be interested in fish—” Chase made a clicking sound, like an amused dolphin. “—but you? Well, I guess you just had to do everything I did.”

“But better,” Roxy rebutted. “I am a scientist, and you are an aquarium lady.”

“Well, guess who’s dating the actual merman out of the two of us?”

“Yeah, well. I guess you win on that end.” Roxy looked upset, but behind her back, the two kids looked at each other and rolled their eyes in unison, knowing it wasn’t that serious. “Anyway, let me know when you guys are ready to head ou—”

A radio on Roxy’s belt crackled. “Hey Roxanne? You there? I think something’s up.”

Roxy frowned, and picked up. “What is it, Dan?”

“There’s this weird group of visitors that showed up. They’re heading your way. We’ve tried to distract them, but the lady in charge is insisting she sees you, and someone told her where you were. She’s getting really close to, uh...that room.”

Roxy paled. “Don’t worry, I got it.” She hung her radio back on the belt. “You guys be careful, okay?”

The family nodded silently, and Chase squeezed Jack’s hand harder.

Quickly, Roxy left the room, and was barely out in the hall when she saw the group that she’d been told about. About five of them, all unfamiliar, with four of them wearing dark blue jackets with silver highlights, and the woman in front wearing a long blue coat. Hiding any nervousness she might’ve felt, Roxy walked over to greet them with a smile, not noticing the small form of a twelve-year-old girl following her.

“Hello!” Roxy said cheerfully. “I don’t think I recognize any of you? Did we do a partnership I wasn’t aware of?”

The woman in front stopped, and the rest of her group along with her. “Roxanne Aguado?” She asked.

“Yes, that’s me. What can I do for you?”

“I’m Dr. Lise Ester, we are from TridentCorp.” Ester smiled. Her voice was slightly accented. “We hear you are doing great things at this institute.”

“Me? Specifically?” Roxy laughed. “I’m flattered, but it’s not just me. We have a whole team here studying ocean life and helping them out. Um...if I may ask, what is TridentCorp? I’ve never heard of it.”

“TridentCorp,” Ester repeated, tapping the lapel of her coat. There was a small logo there, a blue patch with a silver trident and a ring of circling fish. “We are oceanographers and marine biologists, much like here. We seek to understand the sea and all its creatures. I am surprised you have not heard of us, Dr. Aguado. We are well known, particularly in Europe.”

“Ah, I’m sorry.” Roxy cleared her throat. “Would you like a tour?”

“No thank you, we have already received offers, and declined them.”

“Oh, are you sure? I’d love to show you some of our work. What are your specialties? We aren’t equipped for too many large animals, so there aren’t any dolphins or whales, but of course we have a lot of smaller fish—”

“We have heard a great deal about this location, Dr. Aguado,” Ester interrupted. “And we have heard you have made large discoveries in sea life.”

“Discoveries? I wouldn’t say that.” Roxy tried very hard not to glance over her shoulder at the room. “We haven’t found any new species or anything like that.”

“Really? Are you sure?” Ester insisted. “I was told you would know something about it.”

“No, afraid not. Who did you hear that from?”

“A coworker of yours.” Ester leaned around Roxy and glanced further down the hall. “What is in this area?”

“Well, if you’d let me give you a tour, you’d know,” Roxy laughed, a bit too loud. “Um, it’s mostly staff stuff, like breakrooms, you know.”

“Unusual that the staff areas would be in the section of the building over the water,” Ester hummed. “Usually, they would make use of that, and put many large tanks here, or pump water to smaller ones, at least.”

“Well, I...guess you do things differently over in Europe,” Roxy said. This wasn’t working. Ester was very much leaning forward, and the rest of her group was getting impatient, shuffling about and gradually moving closer. She really needed to distract them, but—

“Hey! Where are you from?!”

Luckily, a distraction arrived in the form of a very energetic twelve-year-old. Sereia, who’d been hiding and listening from behind Roxy, had also picked up on the vibes Ester and her TridentCorp group were giving off. So she burst forth, practically jumping up and down as she let her mouth run a million miles a minute. “You said you’re from Europe, right? Are you, like, French? Why is your company name in English if you’re French? How’d you get here, on an airplane?”

Ester looked taken aback. Her expression practically screamed ‘what’s with this sassy lost child?’ “Ah...your...daughter, Dr. Aguado?”

“Oh, uh, this is my niece,” Roxy said. “She and her brother are visiting today.”

“I’m Sereia Aguado, twelve and a half, nice to meet you!” Sereia said loudly. “Did you fly first class on your airplane from France? I want to fly first class one day, I hear you get a foot rest!”

“I—young lady, I am German, not French,” Ester said haltingly. “Though not everyone on our staff is. And our company name is in English because—”

“Oh do you speak German, then? I want to take German as an elective in junior high! Mom says I should take Spanish but I already know some Spanish ‘cause my grandma and grandpa speak it a lot, and if I can understand it, I think it’s good enough. School is already boring, anyway, I don’t want to be even more bored. But Muirin, he’s my brother, weirdly likes school, but actually I think he just says that, he’s probably just okay with it but since he’s smart he’s supposed to like it—”

“Well, thank you for your time, Dr. Aguado,” Ester suddenly said, backing up and indicating for the rest of the group to follow her. “It is clear you are busy today, so we will return and discuss this another time. Does next week work for you?”

“Yeah, sure.” Roxy tried not to sound too relieved. “Feel free to make an appointment with us!”

“Yes, of course.” Ester and the group from TridentCorp turned and left back the way they came, though Ester continued to look back over her shoulder occasionally, as if expecting to see something.

The moment they were out of sight, Roxy breathed a sigh of relief. “Reia, that was amazing,” she whispered.

Sereia beamed. “Thanks!”

The two of them turned and reentered the room, surprised to see it changed a bit. The tarp on the floor had been flung over the tanks, but being meant for only one, it only half-covered both of them. Stacy and Muirin were lying on the floor, trying to physically block the bottoms of the tanks visible. But upon seeing Roxy and Sereia, they relaxed a bit. “No one’s coming, then?” Stacy asked.

“Nope,” Roxy shook her head. “Thanks to Reia, here. Get the kids a treat on the way home.”

Relieved, Stacy stood up and started pulling the tarp off the tanks. Muirin raised a corner and said, “It’s fine, no one’s here!” That caused a flurry of motion from under the tarp, inside the tank, and with some splashing Chase managed to push the tarp off. “All fine?” He asked, expression drawn and worried.

Roxy nodded. “All fine. I’ll take care of it if they ever come back, which...they might.” She hesitated. “Listen, uh...Chase. I think they know about your friend here. The woman in charge, Dr. Ester, she made comments about sea life ‘discoveries.’ I...can’t think of anything else that could mean.”

Chase went even paler than usual. He leaned back over to the other tank, looking down at Jack, asleep and defenseless. A few whistling, chattering words full of vowels came from his mouth, and the others didn’t have to speak the language to pick up on the fearful tone. “We need...to wake him up,” Chase decided. “Now.”

Stacy nodded, and looked over at Roxy. “Have you figured out anything?”

Roxy shook her head sadly. “We’re unfamiliar with their biologies in the first place, but it just seems like he’s...asleep.”

Muirin and Sereia wandered over, joining Chase in staring at Jack. “Dad...?” Muirin said quietly. “What about—I-I think it’s a bad idea, but...the way he got like this...has to be reversed in the same way...you know. Right?”

Chase nodded absentmindedly, eyes flicking up to a screen on one of the weird machines. He had no idea what they did, but he knew what that green line, going up and down, meant. “Maybe. I’ll ask the others.”

Roxy cleared her throat. “I’m not sure what that means, but in any case, you shouldn’t leave right at this moment. We should make sure those guys from TridentCorp are completely gone first.”

The others all murmured in agreement.

Outside, a couple of black vans were pulling away from the Institute building, all with the logo of a silver trident and fish on a blue background stamped onto their sides. Dr. Ester sat inside one of them, talking on the phone. “Sie haben definitiv einen. Aguado verhielt sich furchtbar misstrauisch. Sie bemühte sich sehr, nicht in die Halle hinter sich zu schauen.” She paused. “Nein, wir sollten ein wenig warten. We don't want to look strange.” Another pause. “Mach dir keine Sorgen, Sir. Sie werden unserem Streben nach Wissenschaft nicht im Wege stehen.” And with that, she hung up. She wasn’t about to lose this second one.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticegos #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticeye au #septic egos #septic egos au #chase brody #brigid writes fanfiction #mermay snippets

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