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#it’s a pavlovian response she’s like YEP
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Ours
Extremely late and I’m EXTREMELY sorry!😭 @bluboothalassophile happy belated EVERYTHING! And just thank you so much for being the incredible friend that you are!!!! 🥰You know what this is 😏and I hope you enjoy because this is the first of three parts. Three just seemed to fit... I had a ton of fun writing it and hopefully it’s not rubbish.
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It took time and patience with an unpracticed key guided by an unsteady grip. A petite, pale girl caught her lip between her teeth, a tiny grunt escaping as she finagled with the door.
"Raven, is that you?"
But she was starting to get used to this.
There was a concluding click as the key's metal ridge caught the groove in the last lock of the six panel apartment door. When it opened, in wandered a wearied Raven Roth.
And Raven would have liked to think she wandered in gracefully, but she knew she was dragging. It was impossible not to while wearing shoes so abhorrently impractical they should have been illegal. So violent was the aching in her heels, that by the final stretch of half-block, they were nearly numbed. Gods and her back—it was practically killing her.
If she was being honest, Raven felt like something one of those city sweeping trucks scraped off the sidewalk at four-thirty in the morning. One could only hope she didn't look like it.
"Roy," Raven winced, eyelids squeezing shut as she spoke. "I'm alive—but barely."
"Jay?" Roy called out from somewhere in the foreground. "Where are you?"
As expected a low, disembodied grunt ushered out in lieu of a response.
"Didn't you hear—Raven's back!"
The door slid closed and a gust of air entered the foyer behind her, carrying with it the heady notes of brown sugar, nutmeg, and melted butter. And like a Pavlovian response, she forgot the discomfort and led herself up by the nose. Spine straightening, legs lifting, then posture rising. It was like her whole being had been revitalized in an instant. Who knew the promise of a home-cooked meal could do that? A wistful smile steered into her face as Raven thought about how evenings after work used to transpire.
Weeks ago, one foot in the door usually meant bra optional. And flattening into a decompression on the couch was a non-negotiable.
Needless to say, a welcome like this one would never not catch her off guard.
"Something smells like you've outdone yourself again," Raven spoke loudly over the faint sounds of sizzling, curiously craning her neck and sniffing the air distractedly.
And then Roy appeared. He was peering out into the foyer, red hair bleeding out against the backdrop of a white walled interior. "Dinner will be ready soon," he supplied and beamed at her. The brightness faded in increments as his deep pine eyes floated downward and he took what she was holding.
"Again?"
"Yep." Raven gave a single solemn nod and Roy let out a dramatic sigh.
"But it's Friday. Those bastards..." he muttered in disbelief and Raven smirked. Suddenly, he inclined his head toward the other room and inhaled suspiciously. "Do you...smell that?" Roy went rigid in realization. "It smells like I forgot the flip."
"It smells like...that one's Jason's," Raven corrected.
Red eyebrows raised, clearly impressed. "Right." He marched back briskly toward the kitchen, only pausing to point at the heavy bag full of file folders teetering on her shoulder. "You'll have to tell me and Jaybird all about...that."
"Yes, please." Raven let out a huff, lower lip quivering. "You're an angel..." Roy winked at the pout topped by pleading purple and disappeared.
"The irony," a low drawl called from just around the corner. "Are you always such a sight for sore eyes?"
It was Jason walking over with arms out as wide as his grin. Even without the sarcasm, his aura and footsteps were distinct—a dead giveaway. They were oddly as heavy as they were silent.
"Whoa…" he looked as concerned as Roy had moments ago. "Or are you just sore?" Strong, steady hands removed her bag from her shoulder. "That's better." Raven rolled her stiff arm muscles.
It was a relief, to hand off her burden for a moment, to no longer be dragged down by the weight of her work—and the world.
"How was our day?" he pressed like a man who knew the answer.
"Rough—and long..."
Quickly Jason knelt down, hand reaching out for her calf. "I've got you, Princess." And Raven placed a balancing hand on his shoulder while he undid her shoes, a grateful half-smile stitching across her face.
"Come, come."
He took her hand, twirling her around past the living room to deposit her right onto a stool next to the island. "Sit. Harper's making crepes." Jason pulled her stool close and spun it around, so he was faced with the back of her.
"Take it from me, they'll help with the tension. Of course... I also believe in a hands-on approach." Jason then cracked his knuckles—mostly for effect, because boy did he know what he was doing. His hands slid up her arms, to her shoulders and worked them over, then dug into the surrounding muscles with his fingers and kneaded hard with his thumbs.
"Mmm..." Raven's tension began to ebb and wane. "Well, that helps a little..." Jason turned up the pressure a few more degrees while his breath grew heated on her neck.
Aroma clouds were wafting around their heads, while Roy flipped another crepe in slow motion. And in an instant, Raven was transported to some sort variant of a Jason and Roy spa she didn't know she needed.
"Okay, that helps a lot." And she moaned in spite of herself. All her stress was melting away, turning into liquid and evaporating off of her, faster than the French butter Roy was melting on the stove. He tilted the bright red crepe pan in all directions, getting an even gloss of sweet, golden goodness in every crevice. And Jason's hands continued to manipulate each one of hers, until all the tightness in her upper body unknotted itself.
"Hmm, where else—where else? Ah." Jason's rough hands took hold of the chevron patterned lace covering her ankles and he began to massage away. "Did I tell you, how much I like these stockings?"
Raven seemed not to hear him. "Harder," she whispered. His knuckle pounded gently down her arches, then ground fixedly into her heel and, painstakingly along the sides. By the time he took her other foot into his lap, she was practically cooing. "Did I tell you how good you are at that?" The tip of Jason's tongue edged over the corner of his smile.
Gods.
"That really is a shame..." he said and Raven lifted her head towards him in question. "About your day? How rough and hard it was..." His hand was lowering, slowing, but lingering. "Normally when you put those two adjectives together... It could be a good thing."
"Okay...!" Roy had come over suddenly with his spatula proffering a piece of crepe, still steaming hot from the pan. "I'm testing something out tonight, so I've added a special ingredient to this batch."
"Oh good. Raven did have one of those days. She could use some..." Jason pantomimed a flippant gesture. It could have been taking a long drag or it could have been—
"Not that kind... A different kind of special..." Roy shot Jason and Raven a long once over. Something in the way he said special made the air around them begin to bristle with titillation, anticipation. "A few drops of...lavender extract..." His voice dropped another octave. And he began to blow on the bite while Raven and Jason watched his full lips. It seemed cooling the steam from the crepe had an opposite and equal reaction. As if each breath was fanning the flames rising between them, like a bellow into charred embers in the hearth of a fireplace.
"Let me know what you think of it." Gently, he fed her piece from his fingers and Jason leaned his face close to hers, like he was attempting to steal it straight from her lips. Just before the point of contact, Roy clicked his tongue playfully.
Almost like he was calling him off.
"If you want some you'll have to wait." Dazedly, Raven blinked at Roy. He shook his head of chin length crimson hair, half of it was up in a bun with the rest hanging in his face. "I'll be back with the rest." Teasingly, Roy waved the spatula like a stake to ward off his dark-haired, undead roommate.
"Jason..." The brunette inched nearer to her at the sound of his name. She kicked his stool with her foot so it swiveled further away. Ultimately, it only caused him to move even closer. "Aren't we in rare form tonight?" she sighed.
"Don't know what you're talking about," Jason insisted bemusedly, doing his best to appear impassive. "I'm always like this." He examined her wrist with his forefinger and thumb. "As for you... That office of yours must be working you damn near to the bone. Did you somehow manage to get tinier, Raven?" The left corner of his lips curled up.
She tore it away and glared at him, aghast. "Insufferable, patronizing," Raven muttered under her breath, nursing her wounded forearm. "Ass."
"But this ass speaks the truth," he raised an eyebrow loftily. "If you would just join our firm..."
"Your firm?" Purple orbs narrowed to slits. "Just because you guys are mercenaries for hire—"
"Mmm... We really prefer the term 'vigilantes,'" Jason punctuated with air quotes. "Actually, from a branding perspective, it's Heroes for Hire™—Roy's got a whole...thing..."
"Whatever you're calling your 'backwoods operation'." Raven's air quotes didn't disguise the disdain in her voice. "The point is, I like my non-profit just fine... And I am not tiny."
"Alriiight." Roy arrived with a huge ceramic serving dish full of crepes with powdered sugar dusted on top. "Eat them while they're hot. Raven..." He slid a plate over to her. "Eat up."
"I thought I would always get the first bite," Jason teased. Then quickly lunged forward, stopping short of Roy's smirk, hip cocked toward his. "What've you got for me, Harps?"
On a delay, the redhead drew back, as if he just remembered Raven was in the room. "Don't be greedy, Jay," he said at last.
The ebony haired man, raised an eyebrow, but began to unload fresh food onto his plate. Once every inch of real estate was covered in crepe, Jason started to attack with his fork.
"So, when have I ever been greedy?"
Was that besides the fact that his plate was loaded up with most of the food the archer had just cooked? And besides the fact that he hadn't really helped?
But then... neither had Raven. Unless licking the batter and 'testing out' a crepe or two counted.
"Well, Raven's barely eaten a crepe and you're drifting into seconds. Where's your hospitality? Shouldn't you share with our guest?"
"I can be hospitable..." He chuckled. "I'd rather just...share our guest."
Roy shot him a warning glare on his way back to the stove. Jason shrugged before closing in another crepe and filling his mouth with another forkful.
"You're amazing," Raven deadpanned.
"Aren't I? But I've got nothing on the food. I have to say, this is the best batch by far," he announced. "Roy, do you have any more of those blueberries you got from the farmer's market over the weekend?" Jason started to smirk at Raven. "Or strawberries? I know how much you enjoy them."
"Try the table," Roy yelled over his shoulder, mild irritation edged in his tone.
"Well..." Raven shrugged, her expression coy as she reached over for the blue container. "They are in season..." There were few things that could enhance Roy's crepes, except fresh berries. Raven puffed out her cheeks as she rifled through an almost empty berry basket. "And... there are only three left... You sure helped yourself," she accused heavily under her breath.
"I didn't see your name on them," Jason returned. "So it was fair game, like anything else in this apartment."
Raven folded her arms. "I thought Roy got them for me, didn't you Roy?" He glanced up at her as he moved around the open kitchen.
"Sorry, we're low, Rae," Roy said regrettably. "I should have picked up more. You'd think after a couple weeks, I wouldn't still be acclimating to having an additional mouth to feed. What can I say?"
"Yes, we're very sorry." Jason pinched her stocking-clad leg, eliciting a gasp.
Raven cut knife-sharp purple eyes at him before the redhead came around to her stool. Roy wiped a hand across the words Banging Redheads & Banging Brunches printed in a large black font on the apron.
Probably a Christmas gift.
And one for which Jason must have been responsible.
He ruffled the purple strands at Raven's crown with his spatula free hand. "I hope that's okay."
"Don't be ridiculous." She brushed the strings fastening the charcoal colored apron and tugged. "Now go take that off and come eat with us." Roy planted a kiss on the top of her head, and shuffled out of the kitchen.
"Hmm...I guess I could have blueberries..." Raven mused. "Now that I think about it, they'd really compliment the lavender. I don't know that strawberries would in the same way."
"Do you know that for a fact?" Jason took a small sip from his cup, eyes trained on her through the glass. "Or have you ever considered...both?"
With a startling scowl, Raven looked up from the melted whipped cream atop the remaining crepes on the granite counter. "Have you ever considered why I like Roy more?" She retorted. "It's this."
"Really?" And Raven pushed his stupidly handsome, smirking face away from her own. "Little bird, don't tease," Jason moaned, dragging out the last syllable. "I promise to be good, I'll share—I certainly don't mind sharing with Roy." She rolled her eyes, popping a blueberry in her mouth and chewing thoughtfully.
Jason was mostly euphemism on a good day, but this was different. He'd been dropping these odd hints all week. But Raven told herself it was another unexpected caveat about living here. She didn't think she should breach the subject or even read too much into them.
After all, she was only crashing with Jason and Roy for a little while longer.
This was purely temporary, until the super in her building got around to fixing the circulation unit in her water closet of a studio. Or that was what she told herself at first. She was quickly growing accustomed to the perks of living with them.
Being spoiled was... Well, it was nothing short of wonderful.
Gone were the days of scrounging up sad boxes of cereal for breakfast, schlepping together leftover takeout for lunch, or unearthing bags of nearly expired popcorn for dinner. Roy and Jason worked out a ton and ensured their fridge was always stocked. Even on the off-chance that it rained and the farmer's market wasn't open in the park so they could do locally-sourced organic.
That, and they could actually cook.
At a moment's notice, Roy could whip up an amazing French toast, or a hearty stew. If they were feeling wild he'd make them breakfast for dinner or vice versa. Even Jason's most experimental chili recipe could be redeemed by a few generous grates of cheese or a dollop of sour cream.
And clearly business was great, because their apartment was fantastic. It was spacious, but had all these homey touches, like a handcrafted breakfast nook Roy and Jason built together.
But tangible things aside, Raven found she actually didn't mind the company. So gone were the days of being alone.
The moments where he wasn't an insufferable tease, Jason loved attending their two person book-club. They talked books, trashy to classic and everything in between, often punctuated by an impromptu neck or foot rub.
When Roy wasn't working out, planning a job, or doling out heaps of domesticity onto her and Jason, he was a hopeless romantic. He reinvigorated Raven's secret love of rom-coms. But he also liked to learn from her. So he played chess, scrabble, even backgammon, and once in a while they were able to rope in Jason for monopoly. Roy was a very graceful loser at board games, but he was amazing when he got his hands around a deck of cards. And Raven was finding, she had a lot to learn from him.
But Raven's favorite nights were the ones where they could all just be. Listening to something old or indie in the background and talking until the three of them simply passed out.
The apartment just felt full—of fun, of food, of friends. Of laughter and love.
It was a wonderful life, but it was a shame it wasn't her life. Raven was a realist, she knew she'd have to go back.
But for now, she was going to enjoy every single second of it.
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ihatecoconut · 3 years
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Three Minutes
“I may need to sit down for a second.”
“We don’t have time for that!”
“Hey, buddy! I just brought your frigging comrade back from the dead and sealed away a minor demon lord! Make time!”
Her ‘employer’ (in the loosest sense of the word) sighed hard and glared down at her as if he was regretting not just learning the incredibly complicated languages and history himself. She kinda regretted that as well, especially with the slight burn marks that the minor demon lord had left on the edges of her laptop.
“She’s got a point, you know,” the ‘comrade’ said, brushing himself down as if that was going to get rid of the mud stains he had gained from being dead.
The original guy- he hadn’t given her a name so she had been coming up with increasingly weird monikers for him- sighed again, harder, and looked as if he disagreed with both of them, but all he said was, “Don’t call me buddy.”
“What’s ya name then?”
“You have three minutes to rest.”
She resisted the urge to sigh- if she did, he would just sigh back and honestly she wasn’t prepared to deal with that level of passive aggressiveness- and opened her laptop. The screen was fine, only the edges were burnt and maybe if she rolled with it, she could pretend that it was an aesthetic. Probably not.
“I’m Ryan.” The comrade sat down next to her, picking at a hole in his jeans that she didn’t want to think about the origin of. “Thanks for bringing me back from the dead.”
“Annabel.” She replied. “And, you’re welcome.”
Her employer sighed again from the other side of the room and she gritted her teeth. She was going to develop a Pavlovian response to that sound if he wasn’t careful.
“He’s not always like this,” Ryan reassured her, “it’s been a tough week for him.”
“How would you know? You’ve been dead.”
“I followed him around as a ghost.”
Annabel paused, raising her eyes from the tabs she was shutting down to stare across the room as if the wall would tell her whether or not that made sense.
“You what?”
She had definitely thought the words but was pretty certain she hadn’t said them.
“Ry,” her employer insisted after a few seconds, “you what?”
Ah, it had been him that had spoken. That made sense. Although, it didn’t actually because he had never said anything in the short time that she had known him that wasn’t mission critical.
“Oh yeah,” Ryan said, looking incredibly pleased with himself, “all the time, just 24/7 with you.”
He was starting to look slightly sick as Ryan spoke. “24/7?”
“Yep. Watched you sleep as well.”
Annabel tapped her fingers lightly on the keyboard, flicking her eyes between the two of them. Ryan had a bright and friendly tone, but his eyes were hard as flint, like he was making an accusation and her employer was looking increasingly uncomfortable.
“You were dead.”
“And you had plans to bring me back.”
“You were dead!” It was the most emotion she had ever seen him express outside of irritation and she was slowly starting to form a theory on why he had listened to Ryan without question when he had always argued with whatever she wanted.
“And, what? That was your coping mechanism?”
They both flinched at the way Ryan spat out the words. He had completely dropped the fake-happy tone and was glaring at her employer now. Not wanting to disrupt the only insight into her employer’s claim to humanity, she kept silent, kept still, did nothing to remind them that she was there.
“It didn’t mean anything, I swear.”
“You think I don’t know that? It doesn’t change what you did.”
Her employer stared at Ryan for a full thirty seconds before turning away. He kicked at the remains of the ritual the two of them had performed only moments earlier, Annabel wondered if he was regretting it. “You’ve had three minutes.” He said. “Keep moving.”
Based on the prompt in bold by @givethispromptatry​
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