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babblydrabbly · 3 years

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You'll Understand When You Come My Way || A Valentine's Day Oneshot

F!Reader x Stephen Holder x Erik Heller x Rick Flag x Takeshi Kovacs

5.8k+ words

a/n - Happy Valentines Day, lovelies! This is obviously ridiculous and indulgent, so let's not think too hard about how they all ended up in the same universe. Inspired by that scene from Sense8 and the song Demons by Fatboy Slim. Enjoy!

warnings: poly!ship fic. smut. m/f. m/m. m/m/f/m/m lmao ok alright. reader's got two hands and three holes ykwim. language. food mention. smoking. drinking. fingering. kissing. oral. rimming. squirting. handjobs. penetrative sex. anal sex. dp. cum. creampie. we got it all bby, its v-day!

I do not give permission for my work to be translated or reposted.

Gifs: x x x x

Not all of them get along. In fact, tonight's truce is a bit of a miracle. But you've had a long day at work, and the boys want to make sure their gracious host still has a nice, pleasant Valentine's.

You lie back in Stephen’s passenger seat as he drives you both home. It’s been a long day. While your partner was out following a possible lead, you wound up staying at the precinct with a difficult witness. And after a small fight broke out in holding just as you were about done for the day, you’re ready to just take off your shoes and uncork whatever you can find in the kitchen cabinets.

Stephen’s in a strangely good mood the whole drive home, though. He bangs his thumbs on the steering wheel to the music playing on his vastly out-dated stereo.

“Ay, d’you even remember what day it is, girl?” He says, elbowing you. He reaches over and turns up the volume as a sensual R&B song fills up the car. “Do I need to put you in the mood?”

You snort, turning your head to him. He makes a valiant attempt at grinding seductively to the music in his seat and shoots you a smirk.

You had almost forgotten. The police station isn’t exactly big on decorations. The thought occurs to you that it's Valentine’s Day exactly once, when you slipped out of your office to buy some lunch and noticed someone selling flowers on the street outside today. You checked your phone calendar, shocked at how much of February had gotten away from you.

“The mood for what exactly?” You eventually ponder out loud. Stephen pulls into your driveway slowly and puts the car in park.

No one at work yet knows your living arrangements with Stephen Holder. Ever since he insisted on moving in to help you keep an eye on your guests, the two of you had grown to be so much more than partners. It was a tension that had always been there between the two of you. But after encountering Rick, Takeshi, and Erik, Stephen couldn’t keep his attraction silent anymore. Not with the way the others so obviously vied for you over these past few months.

Still, there were things you simply didn’t hold any expectations over. Romantic holidays for one thing. You and Stephen were both busy people with the same job. And considering you hadn’t remembered, you certainly had no intention of expecting Stephen Holder to.

Stephen leans over the center console and meets your lips with a kiss. You hum gratefully and grasp at his jaw as you move your mouth against his.

“You’ll see.” He muses after a moment. His eyes linger on your mouth. “But lemme keep you to myself for a second. ‘Fore you go inside ‘n see everyone.”

You chuckle curiously against a fresh onslaught of kisses. “They’re all home?”

The detective doesn’t elaborate. Instead, you feel his long fingers glide over the fabric on your thigh and slip between your legs.

You close your eyes as Stephen teases your center over your layers of clothes. You thread your own hand through his hair where it grows longer at his scalp, giving him an encouraging tug. You can tell from the way he delivers you a muffled groan he’d like to do a lot more than that.

You reach down and unbutton your pants for him. You guide his hand toward the zipper, and Stephen pulls his face away, shaking it into the crook of your neck. “Hold up- you need to get that sexy ass inside.” He mumbles, nuzzling your neck.

You pin his face there and earn yourself a hot, wet kiss just over your pulse. You whimper teasingly. “You don’t want to stay here awhile?”

There’s little Stephen can resist when it comes to you. You arch your back when his fingers slip past your waistband and make contact with your pussy. Stephen makes another wanton sound as he’s met with your folds already so warm and slick.

“Goddamn, mama.” He murmurs against your collar. He laves at your skin while you chase his firm touch with your hips. Stephen lets you grind on his palm. He slips his middle fingers inside your entrance, curling them as your clit seeks desperate friction. You were nodding off on your way home, and now you’re drawing Stephen’s face back up to yours, capturing his lips in a hungry kiss.

“A’ight, a’ight. You’re goin’ inside.” He grins as he pulls away. You’re incredulous when he slips his hand out from between your legs and plants one last firm kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Stephen!” You practically whine.

“C’mon.” He laughs. He quickly removes the keys and steps out.

Begrudgingly, you button yourself back up, still a little stunned that he was passing up the opportunity to have some fun in the car. Especially when he was just talking about trying to ‘put you in the mood’. You glance up in the rearview mirror as you gather your bag and your coat, trying to see what he was rummaging through in the trunk.

He shuts it as you step out. You arch a suspicious brow at him.

“What on earth are you doing?” You say, making your way toward him. Stephen stops you with his hands on your hips, his mischievous grin unmistakable.

“Yo I gotta bring some stuff inside. You go in first, yeah?”

You find yourself being spun around as a playful slap on your ass sends you on your way.

You enter your house through the garage. Immediately, you’re hit by the scent of something wonderful cooking. You stop to sigh at the warmth of your normally barren kitchen. Before you shared your home with anyone, it hardly saw any use.

Erik Heller stands at the island, chopping up leafy greens with deft hands. You take in the sight of his broad shoulders in a nice knitted sweater pushed up to his elbows, noting how well dressed he looks this evening, even for him. He pauses from the cutting board to take a sip of red wine and notices you standing in the doorway. He gives you that quaint smile that still dazzles you somehow.

“Welcome home.” He says softly. You smile back and set your things down, wandering over to the stove top. You inhale deeply over the saucepan bubbling with something bright red and delicious looking.

Erik joins you. Before you can ask about his day, he comes up from behind you closely and stirs into the pot with a wooden spoon. He takes your hip in his other hand and sways you while he continues cooking. You huff.

“Let me guess, you’re not going to explain anything about all of this either.”

Erik leans over your shoulder and takes a sip of sauce before offering the spoon to you.

“I’m told you’re an exceptional detective.” He smiles as you taste a bit for yourself. You give an appreciative sound when the rich combination of basil and tomatoes touch your tongue. Erik gives your hip a squeeze. “Surely you’ve figured it out by now.”

Slipping out of his grasp, you eye him as you wander over to the other dishes already prepared. You swipe your finger through a bowl of another sauce that looks warm and creamy, with slices of mushroom floating along the surface. Erik tuts at you as you steal a taste.

You smile. “I don’t know if I like all of you conspiring against me yet.”

Erik wipes his hands on a towel by the stove before planting himself in front of you. He nudges you against the counter, his eyes dropping to the finger that lingers, caught between your teeth. He reaches up, pulling it from your mouth, and your lips fall open as you watch Erik slip the digit past his own. His eyes fall shut as he hums, tasting you.

You swallow. You feel the wet warmth of his tongue slide along the pad of your finger.

Then, the gentle suction as he bobs his head ever so faintly down, til his lips brush your knuckles. The action is so soft, yet so electric, sending a jolt of desire down to your core. You watch him, hypnotized, until he opens his eyes again and pulls his lips off your finger with a delicate pop.

You always marvel at Erik Heller’s intense gaze. He often pinned you with silent looks across the room, while the others argued or bickered. His intimacy was unique- theirs all were. You loved the thrill of his quiet longing for you, though.

Erik’s lips find your knuckles again, this time with a simple kiss. He trails them around until he feels the fluttering pulse at your wrist.

You lean back on the counter as Erik presses his body into yours, then suddenly a mouth is on your neck again, shutting down any further inquiries still on your mind. You splay your fingers on his chest as he arches you back and your breath quickens. The thigh between your legs brushes against your aching center, eliciting a moan from you. You lift a knee, but it’s not enough friction.

You groan when Erik pulls away from you with a knowing smile.

You soon find yourself with a fresh wine glass in your hand. He pours you a generous amount of red. “I’m almost done with dinner. Why don’t you go sit and relax for a while.” He suggests.

You grumble as you’re politely shooed away with your glass in hand. Still, you take a sip, toeing your shoes off in the hall.

When you round the corner, you halt with another incredulous huff.

A flush creeps up your face as Rick Flag and Takeshi Kovacs turn to you from their respective spots on the sofa.

They definitely heard you in the kitchen with Erik.

“That smooth bastard.” Rick chuckles into his glass. The last of the amber liquid disappears past his lips in one swallow.

Takeshi sports a matching tumbler, though his sits emptied on the coffee table. You pointedly ignore the cigarette butt snuffed out at the bottom of the glass. How many times have you told all four of them about not smoking inside the house?

“Wonder what you two could possibly be talking about.” You say with an unimpressed glare. Takeshi’s smirk is smug, as always.

“She’s embarrassed.” He tells Rick, as if you’re not standing there. “She doesn’t want to sit down with us.”

Rick offers a hand to you, a little more sympathetic. “Come over here, darlin’.”

Your feet move toward them, but instead of sitting in between you like Rick wants, you take a seat on the armchair across from them. Still, Rick’s sly little smile is just as devious as the envoy’s.

But to their credit, they ask you about your day. You tell them about the miniature riot that broke out between all the men in the holding cell, and you raise your sleeve to show them both the purpling bruise on your forearm. Rick grins when you tell him how you clocked the asshole who gave it to you just before he tried helping himself to a handful of your ass in the middle of the fight.

“Should have broken his arm.” Takeshi muses. You didn’t have trouble imagining the damage he could have done if he had been there.

Eventually, you sit back with a sigh.

The sun is setting outside now, and you tell them you’d rather put all of that behind you for the night.

You ask them both what they’d like to watch as you reached for the remote, even though you know Rick and Takeshi rarely ever had a preference when it came to the television. It was usually you or Stephen who decided what to put on.

Rick turns to Takeshi with an arch of his brow. “The lady wants to watch somethin’.” He says. A knowing glance passes between the two men.

You cross your arms defensively, remote in hand. Again with the pretending you weren’t there! You expected it from teasing, smug Takeshi- but not the colonel.

You have half a mind to get up and simply go find Erik or Stephen, when the spark of something flashes between the two men. As if challenging one another, it’s Takeshi who makes the first move.

Your mouth falls open when he reaches out and pulls Rick into a sudden kiss by the collar of his shirt. Rick meets him with a muted grunt.

You sit, frozen, watching the two of them as they explore each other’s mouths heatedly. Rick and Takeshi are similar in so many ways, and you can tell even from the armchair, that their personalities are bumping as they fight each other for dominance.

Rick takes the envoy’s face in both his strong hands, forcing him to part his lips for Rick’s tongue. But it’s Takeshi who slips a hand between the other man’s thighs, eliciting a surprised moan from him. Rick jerks back in warning, nearly parting the kiss. But you watch as another stroke coaxes him to roll his hips with hesitation, a deep sound leaving him willingly this time.

Your wine glass sits on the coffee table, forgotten now. You squeeze your thighs together as you stare, helplessly unable to look away. That burning ache returns as you watch the two of them kiss for you. It rises to your cheeks again when Takeshi’s eyes slip open, shifting over to you with a burning gaze as he continues to swallow Rick’s tongue. You can’t help but to reach down. To run your hand up your thigh as you bite your bottom lip.

Your fingers dance dangerously close to the inseam of your slacks when Stephen’s voice draws you out of your trance.

“Ay, playas.” Stephen doesn’t look surprised at all by the obscene display in the living room. He leans on the wall over by the foyer with such casualness- it makes you want to jump up and ask everyone what the fuck is going on. Stephen meets your eye before you do, though, nodding back to the other room. “Heller’s got the chow ready.”

When they all wrangle you back into the kitchen, all your objections die on your lips.

Your eyes fall on several large vases of roses all scattered around every surface. The bunches of balloons tied to the chairs around the dining table set for five, shaped like red and white hearts, all say various cheesy phrases: Be mine, xoxo, Love Love Love.

Erik stands by the table with a half empty bowl of loose rose petals, the other half scattered over the tablecloth. There’s even a glass set of holders on the table for the taper candles now glowing softly against the disappearing light outside.

You stare between them all in stunned silence.

“What is this?” You ask finally, quietly.

Takeshi’s hand ghosts around your waist as he passes by you, his deep voice smug in your ear. “Had to distract you while they set up somehow.”

The kitchen fills with the sound of chairs dragging back and chatter as all four men get settled at the table, and you finally wander over to take a seat at the head.

“We thought we’d call a truce. For tonight.” Rick offers you. He pours himself a new whiskey, capping the bottle and tossing it precariously right over the table. But Takeshi catches the bottle with ease.

You continue to stare, still speechless at the ease with which everyone tucks into all the food. You’re finally pulled from your daze when Stephen passes you the salad bowl.

You dish some of the greens out onto your plate, feeling like you’re two steps behind everyone else as they pass each other everything. You hold up your plate as Erik serves you a few slices of the creamy chicken and mushroom you tried earlier, shooting him a small smile.

“Pink is for gratitude, you know. Not romance.” Erik tells Stephen. You look up again at the vases- three of them with big bouquets of velvety red roses, and the other three filled with bunches pink and white.

“Man, whatever. They’re still pretty, ain’t they?” He retorts, mouth half full of bread. He turns to you. You know Stephen well enough to see the hint of uncertainty in his expression now. “You like ‘em, right?”

“They’re beautiful.” You assure him. “It’s all gorgeous, really.”

“I think we owe you plenty of gratitude.” Rick comments.

You have reason to assume he means the way they’ve all been living in your home the past few months. How you helped Rick, Takeshi, and Erik without question when they needed a place to stay. And how you confided in Stephen about it all, who didn’t hesitate to support you either, after all the hardships you had helped him through in the past.

But part of you wonders if he’s talking about the other thing. The private, burning connections you’ve been making with all of them, in all their unique ways. How they all seemed to be pulling you in different directions, vying for you the way you’ve been vying for them. It wasn’t something you had all discussed. But clearly they were all far more on the same page than you had expected.

The five of you eat and toast until you finish with a few more drinks in the living room.

With your chest warmed by wine and a pleasant night, you sit happily in Stephen’s lap on the armchair as the others talk about their lives. Which has always fascinated you, admittedly, as much as you tried not to pry.

Erik, Takeshi, and Rick always seemed to get along when they were talking about the kind of shit a normal civilian couldn’t even wrap their head around. Hell, you and Stephen have seen some shit, and you could hardly wrap your head around it all.

But as it gets late, you sigh apologetically at them as you fight a yawn.

You shift in Stephen’s lap and get up. He keeps his hand wrapped around yours. “Where you goin’, mama?”

“I think it’s time for a shower and bed.” You smile.

It’s Erik who stands from the other armchair first. He slips his hands around your waist and draws you into his arms. You know it’s coming, but you still let out a soft ‘oh’ as he boldly kisses you in front of the others, not withholding a single ounce of his desire.

“Stay.” He murmurs against your lips before kissing you again.

Erik steers you over to Takeshi and Rick, who fall quiet as you obediently sit between the two large men without protest this time. Takeshi leans down to set his glass on the table and moves closer to you. You feel yourself flush as that intimidating smirk brushes across your jawline, his breath a pleasant sensation against your warm cheek.

Erik kneels in front of you. He pushes himself between your legs and pulls you down for another deep kiss. Your hands fly to his hair, your fingers pulling it from it’s careful style as you kiss him in return. The wine and ache between your legs convinces you to let go of your self-consciousness.

The sound of your kiss fills the room as the others watch, but soon you feel another set of hands on you as Erik works your mouth open with fervor.

Rick’s rough, calloused hand glides under the hem of your shirt and across your stomach. It flutters as the heat of his palm mixes with your heat. He curls his fingers around the fabric, and you lift your arms as he pulls it up over your head. He hums appreciatively at the black laced bra now exposed. He leans in and kisses your shoulder slowly.

Rick’s patient trail leads him to your neck. He plants his lips firmly to your throat and draws a deep moan from you.

You pull away to take a breath. You look down at Takeshi, who wastes no time to bend and dip his tongue between your cleavage. You shiver as his teeth drag along your sensitive skin, nipping at the swell of your breasts.

Your eyes flit to Stephen. In the armchair right across from you, He watches you with a dark look. It doesn’t escape you the way he’s got his knees spread out wide, the hard outline of his length visible and thick against his thigh. He grips the armrest with one hand, while the other brushes his knuckle over the seam of his lips as he keeps his eyes on you.

Through all the sensations, you’re vaguely aware of the pair of hands undoing your slacks. You suck in a sharp breath when Erik hooks a finger on your panties and pulls them down, pressing a kiss to your exposed mound. He levels you with a patient look, waiting for you to object. When you don’t he continues his slow, tender undressing.

He moves his hands over your hips, drawing your slacks down under your rear. You watch in a daze as he pulls them down your thighs next, your legs pliantly maneuvering for him to continue. One ankle out from the leg of your pants, then the other. He trails kisses down your exposed inner thigh, and you can’t help the way your knees fall apart.

He kisses down until he’s lifting the back of your knee over his shoulder, mouthing at your calf tenderly before retracing his path back up.

A sharp bite draws your attention away from Erik. Takeshi soothes the bite over your budding nipple with the lave of his tongue, his hooded eyes glancing up at you as he closes his mouth around it once more. The hard suck of his lips sends a spark of electricity through you. You reach up and give the envoy’s long, golden locks an equally sharp tug. He groans for you.

You melt when Erik’s mouth finally reaches your core.

The broken little cry that tears through the quiet living room seems to ignite something in the others; Takeshi and Rick surge on, pressing you back into the couch as you let the overwhelming feeling of so many hands and tongues and lips drown you.

Rick’s strong arm easily reaches down to hook around your other knee, spreading you apart further for Erik. Your back bows taut when you feel Erik’s tongue circle your clit before delving down into your entrance.

The wet heat between his lips makes your eyes roll up as he fuckes his tongue deep inside you, his thumb pressing over the bud of your sex over and over.

He replaces his tongue with two fingers soon. You whine at the loss of heat so quickly gone, but as his tongue travels down further your eyes shoot open. Rick and Takeshi keep you pinned down as you wriggle with surprise, “Erik.”

“You can take us, darlin’.” Rick says against your ear. You look over at him helplessly as he captures your lips with his own.

“T..Take you?” You repeat. Erik’s ministrations make your mind draw a blank. You moan as he pushes and curls his fingers in and out of your cunt, while his tongue languidly opens up your other entrance. Your toes curl when it feels as if he’s rubbing that white hot spot inside of you from both sides, the sensation almost making it hard to breathe.

You’re so lost in the building heat that rises, in the way Takeshi sucks on your breasts and Rick on your neck, that your orgasm wrenches you before you can warn anyone. You grasp at the couch cushions as the wetness surprises you. Erik groans deeply, lapping at you hungrily as you soak his face. He pulls away when you collapse back down with a lick of his lips. You redden, still panting.

Rick guides you up before you can catch your breath.

You mumble, eyes glazed, to ask what he’s doing. But Takeshi kneels up on the couch with you, his hands on your hips to steady you from behind.

You finally notice how they’ve stripped their clothes, their bare chests pressing you in. Rick cups your face to kiss you. Your body responds without missing a beat, already thrumming again at the feeling of Rick’s hot arousal pressing into your stomach. Takeshi’s length is a firm match against your lower back as he continues mouthing at your skin, placing kiss after kiss along your neck and between your shoulder blades.

Rick’s biceps flex as he drops his arms below your waist, palming you just below your ass. He lifts you with ease over onto his thighs. Your own wrap around his on instinct, and your wrap your arms around his neck with a yelp.

Your head falls back when Rick sinks you down onto his cock. Even with Erik working you open, Rick’s thick length pushes inside you til you whimper at the familiar pleasure mixed with that tantalizing stretch. Rick keeps still as you mold around him.

But it’s the hot press of Takeshi’s cock at your ass that makes you moan. His length is slick with lube, the liquid warm as it makes contact with you.

Still, you worry your bottom lip, darting an unsure glance up at Rick. “I- I don’t know if I can…”

Takeshi soothes you with a brush of his lips against your ear. “Tell me if it’s too much.” He says softly. It’s the patient, almost delicate tone you’ve only ever heard when the two of you are alone. That rare voice that reaches into you and calms you. You press your lips together and will yourself to relax.

Takeshi waits for you to nod before pushing into you slowly. Your head falls back on his shoulder as the two of you give a strangled sigh in unison. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so full.

Rick begins the pace, his eyes never leaving yours as he fucks you with steady strokes. It’s an alternating pleasure. And you know despite the way Takeshi grunts and thrusts behind you, he’s making sure every sound that leaves your mouth is laced with nothing less than ecstasy. Soon, your eyes slip closed as they both slide in and out of you, fucking you til you’re moaning again.

You look over at Stephen. It’s incredible how your heart can speed up any faster at the sight of him. You watch as he fists his cock in his hand, eyes hooded and still on you. He presses his mouth closed tightly as he jerks himself off. His broad chest heaves.

You make a small sound and stretch your arm out to him and Stephen sits up.

“Go on,” Erik encourages the detective from his own seat on the coffee table. He’s in the same shape as Stephen. His palm glides over the bulge in his slacks as he seems content to watch. But you reach for him as well.

“You too.” You call to Erik.

It’s a blur of more touches, more skin, from there on. You wrap your fingers around Erik’s cock eagerly as they both join the rest of you, stripping themselves of their clothes too. You nudge your face against Stephen’s waistline. He’s barely out of his jeans when you reach for his arousal, guiding it to your lips. A groan tears from the detective’s throat as you hollow your cheeks around as much of his length as you can.

Erik’s cock twitches in your other grasp. His fingers thread through your hair, his steady hand a comfortable weight at the base of your neck as you close your eyes and swallow Stephen down.

“Fuck,” Rick grates out. His normally tan skin is flushed from his chest to the tips of his ears, a sheen of sweat forming over his body as he keeps fucking you vigorously. Takeshi, too, is reduced to grunts. And though you can’t see him, you can feel the way he grips your hips with bruising strength. Hear the way he pants and swears under his breath.

You pull off Stephen with a wet pop, uncaring about the small trail of saliva that follows your shining lips. You switch between Erik and Stephen like this until the familiar twist in their faces tells you how close they are.

Stephen reaches down and grips your fist around his cock, bucking his hips into you as he nears climax. You hum around Erik’s length, encouraging Stephen to come anywhere he wants. You whimper as the hot splash of spend lands on your jawline and your bouncing chest.

The sight elicits a groan from Erik. The first rope of cum hits the back of your throat and you draw your mouth off his cock to feel the rest paint your lips and chin. The man shudders with pleasure at the sight of you. And like a chain reaction, Rick warns you he’s close.

It’s Takeshi who reaches his fingers down and slides them over your slick clit.

You jump at the added pressure, your eyes rolling again. Erik drops to his knees, his mouth joining Takeshi’s to travel across your skin, lapping at the cum and sweat gathered on your breasts. He closes his lips around your nipple, still tender from all of Takeshi’s biting and sucking earlier.

Stephen’s mouth meets yours. He swallows your muffled little keens as the heat in your belly builds- more hot than you’ve ever felt before as Rick and Takeshi continue thrusting into you.

The colonel takes a moment to grip Stephen’s chin and drags his face away from you. He possessively leans in and steals a kiss from you right in front of Stephen.

But before your partner can object, Rick pulls away from you wetly and transfers the kiss right to him. You see the drunken smile form on Rick’s face as Stephen hesitates, surprised. Drunk on whiskey and the unbelivable fucking feeling of your cunt around his cock. Stephen grips the hand holding his chin, and it’s another little fight for control, right in front of you. The sight of their sliding tongues, of deep grunts mixing together, sends goosebumps over your skin.

Your thighs squeeze around Rick as you finally come. Your cry wracks through you with every wave, and Takeshi swears, soon following, as if he was waiting for the very moment to climax with you. Rick tears his face away from Stephen. His hips stutter as your walls flutter around him.

Rick comes last- deep inside you with a final thrust. They both do. Takeshi’s head falls to rest on your shoulder, and yours falls back on his.

You catch your breath. Erik pushes your hair from your face with a smile. By the way he’s leaning against you, you know his arousal is already back. Stephen, too, looks up at you with pupils wide and lustful.

They wait for Rick and Takeshi to remove themselves from the couch before joining you. It should be impossible, the way your mouth waters and your pussy twitches, ready for more.

The moonlight is dim outside when you crack open your eyes faintly. You can sense that you’re lying on the floor. Over the plush living room rug, you would guess. Someone spoons you from behind- their deep breathing lulls you in and out of your own sleep for a few minutes. You rub your legs against theirs, noticing a throw blanket has been tucked over your bottom half at some point in the night.

You stir again at the click and flare of a lighter.

Erik sits up and leans over Takeshi’s hand as the envoy offers a flame amicably. The small point of light illuminates Erik’s face for a moment, smoke curling into the still air around him and leaving shadows on the far wall. He takes a puff, before passing the cigarette down to Takeshi, who lies stretched out beside you, every inch of them both still bare.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Takeshi teases without having to catch your eye. He always seems to know when you’re awake, even now.

You sigh and stretch a little. “I suppose you boys have earned it.” You tease back. And they both smirk.

“Damn right.” Comes a deep rasp from behind you. Rick’s arms draw tighter around your midriff. He pulls you closer to him, if that’s even possible. You let out a soft giggle as he rolls you over himself and away from the other men.

You drag the blanket with you to keep yourself covered- though you don’t know why it matters now. No one has bothered dressing themselves again after your long night of celebrating. You all have never been closer than tonight.

You note how someone must have wiped you down with care as you slept, your skin clean where it had been utterly debauched. You could guess any one of them would have, at this point.

Rick presses his face into the back of your head, nuzzling you there.

That leaves you facing Stephen, whose head rests in the crook of his arm as he watches you with that lop-sided smile. Your eyes flick down to the serenity tattoo that stretches across his chest. You reach your hand out toward it, and Rick doesn’t seem to mind when the detective moves closer, slotting himself against you until you’re sandwiched between them, your hand over his sternum.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He murmurs sleepily, his tired smile filling you with warmth for your partner. Your someone far more than just a partner.

“Happy Valentine’s Day. Thank you.” You whisper back.

It’s obvious by Takeshi’s tone that he’s happy to interrupt your little moment, even from out of view with his own, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Detective.”

Rick snorts behind you. “Happy Valentine’s Day, darlin’.”

“Alles liebe zum valentinstag, mein schatz.”

Stephen sits up on his elbow with an irritated scrunch of his face.

”Ay y’all can go back to fuckin’ off again.” You can’t help but crack up a little at the indignant glare he shoots at all the others, even in the darkness.

“What do you mean? I think we’ve turned a new leaf, don’t you?” Asks Erik. And when he reaches over to pass the cigarette to him, Stephen’s glare softens. Still, he scoffs before he takes a cautious pull from the cig. “I quite enjoyed tonight.” Erik muses.

Takeshi agrees. “I wouldn’t object to doing that again.”

Finally, you sit up, much to Rick’s sleepy objection. He keeps his hold on your thigh as he turns over onto his back, his thumb still massaging your skin absently.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” You wonder with an impassive mutter. But of course, your chest swells just thinking about tonight. Not just the sex. But the dinner. The gifts. The way all four of them clearly value something more than their resentment toward each other. At least enough to play nice for tonight. Was that something really you? Was it really possible they could consider keeping this up?

Stephen sees the crease in your brow and the telling way your bottom lip juts out in a cautious pout.

He tsks, grinning at you. Reaching up, he swipes his thumb over that bottom lip. The gesture eases you.

“Y’already know who’s in charge, baby. You’re the boss.”

#rick flag x reader #Stephen holder x reader #Erik Heller x reader #takeshi kovacs x reader #'you can probably bang out a fic in one day' I say hours before valentines day #jfc #lets be real though I was always destined to write this fic #rick flag #takeshi kovacs #Stephen holder #erik heller #Joel kinnaman fanfiction #dont look Joel look away #mywords*

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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years

Text

Heartbreak Ave.

When they’re in love with you but you have feelings for a different member (Hyung line)

→ tags/warnings: SFW, angstyyyyy (like, I’m sorry but at the same time I wanted to write something sad), no, there’s not a happy ending really idk so read at your own heart’s risk, but like really. I was listening to “Manos de Tijera” while writing this so it’s a wee bit heartbreaking

→ a/n: I don’t really write reactions very often but this seemed fun when @sierra-fics brought it up! I actually have one of your suggestions in my drafts, just haven’t finished it up yet. Thanks for the push, though! I love exploring different styles!

read the maknae line version here!

Kim Seokjin

he’s not surprised

it’s probably the worst part for him, the fact that he’s not surprised when your eyes light up as Taehyung waltzes in the room.

he had been in the middle of plucking up the courage to invite you to try out that new Thai restaurant you’d been chattering about when Tae walked in

and you tried - you really did - to pay attention to what Jin had been saying, but you faltered a bit as Tae greeted you warmly and plopped down beside Jin

and Jin just watched, not surprised.

although what does surprise him is how much it hurts

that pain where your heart literally, physically hurts? it’s an exquisite pain, one that takes his breath away

and it doesn’t go away

it doesn’t fade

so he ends up in Namjoon’s studio later that night, and Namjoon knows to wait for him to open up

Jin just stares for a while, blankly at the wall

“Does Tae like her?”

Namjoon already knows who he’s referring to. He’s known about Jin’s helpless crush on you for ages, he knew before Jin himself figured it out

but it’s the way that Jin asks the question so softly, so carefully, that Namjoon realizes with a start that this is so much more than a crush

and Jin looks at him, misery clear in his eyes but also clear resolve visible even as unshed tears glimmer

“Would you really let her go?” Namjoon counters gently. Because he knows. He knows that if Tae got the green light, you'd be swept up in a matter of seconds.

and it’s the way that Jin stares down at his feet, and the tears begin rolling down his cheeks, that has Namjoon sick to his stomach

Jin nods, and when he speaks, his voice shakes but he sounds so earnest that it breaks Namjoon’s heart

“I’d do anything for her.”

no words are exchanged after that for a long, heart-wrenching moment. it’s just Jin, staring down at his feet and quietly sobbing, and Namjoon, pulling him into an embrace.

“I’m sorry, hyung.”

it’s surprising to Jin, just how much that soft phrase cuts through him. It sounds so final.

because at the end of the day, it’s the only solace that can be offered to him.

he lost.

he loved, and he lost.

Min Yoongi

you’re sitting beside him in his studio when the realization hits him like a freight train

sprawled sideways in your designated swivel chair while you stifle a yawn and rub your eyes, Yoongi wonders when he let his emotions get so out of hand

because you’re offering him a shy smile and asking him a question that he numbly answers, but on the inside he’s a total clueless mess

when did he fall in love with you?

it’s something that will haunt him long after you leave that night, rushing out when you get a call from Hobi

for the second time that night, he’s hit with another realization

he’s still reeling from the fact that he’s pretty sure he’s in love with you, so when you gasp and grin when your phone light up with a call, he falters

it’s like being doused with a bucket of ice water, the way you whisper, “oh, it’s Hobi!” and politely ask if you can take the call before rushing out into the hallway

“oh,” he mumbles to himself as the door closes. “it’s Hobi.”

and he laughs.

quietly, darkly. he laughs to himself, at himself, whatever.

because of course it’s Hobi. his best friend, his vitamin. you two deserve each other. of that much he’s certain.

he doesn’t waste too much time feeling sorry for himself; he’s logical enough to see that you two are probably a better match. it’s nothing personal.

so why does he stay in his studio all night, ignoring any calls or messages sent his way?

he’s not sure when he fell asleep, but next thing he knows he’s sprawled out on his little couch and you’re gently shaking him awake

“Yoongo? Did you stay here last night?”

his eyes crack open at the sound of your voice, just enough to be met with your sweet smile

and he, in his half-asleep state, smiles back. he reaches one hand up to gently brush back a strand of your hair, and he swears you lean into his touch

and when you mumble something about Hobi bringing breakfast up, Yoongi is hit with the third realization in less that twenty-four hours.

it’s startlingly simple:

he wants to cry.

so he excuses himself to the bathroom, and cries. sets a five minute timer so nobody gets worried and comes looking for him, and allows himself that time to cry.

then, with machine-like precision, he washes his face and puts some eyedrops in, and goes back out to pretend like everything is fine.

and whenever Jin or Taehyung bring up acting, Yoongi knows. He knows, deep down, that he’s the best actor of all.

because he still loves you

and you will never know.

Jung Hoseok

hobi has never been the most forthcoming with his emotions

he keeps them on lockdown

monitors them with military-like focus

so he knows the exact moment he begins developing feelings for you

(it’s when you brought Bang PD a bouquet for valentine’s day, just to make him blush)

and he knows the exact second when he fell in love

(it was when, after a grueling day at work, you silently walked through his door with his favorite goodies and left without a single word)

(you were wearing a yellow cardigan that day)

(he’s never looked at the color yellow the same way)

if he’s completely honest, he’s sometimes trying so hard to stay on top of his own feelings that he forgets to watch out for where your attention may be drifting

to be fair, you kept your own little crush on Jimin a secret

so when Hobi decides to get over himself and just shoot his shot, he decides he’s all in

and when you arrive at his apartment that night for a movie, you’re shocked to see a bouquet of yellow flowers in Hobi’s shaking hands

“hey” he breathes

you stare at the flowers, then at him

“hello...?” then, with a sinking felling, you point at the flowers. “are those for me?”

hobi smiles broadly. “yeah, they are.” and he hands them to you, allowing his fingers to brush up against yours

it’s electrifying, that small touch

and again, he’s so focused on how electrifying it is that he misses the way you look like you might be sick

pale face, concerned expression

he misses it all, because he’s so nervous but so stupidly in love that he’s just barreling ahead.

gotta get this out of the way

ugh, feelings

and so when he leads you to sit with him out on the balcony, he takes a deep breath and looks at you with wonder in his eyes

and that’s when he notices the way you’re fiddling with your bracelet

not a problem, except for the fact that it’s the one he saw Jimin carefully choosing from an online collection

so when you keep fiddling with the bracelet and avoiding Hobi’s eye contact, he gets it

he takes a long look at all those emotions he keeps in check, and allows himself a moment of self-pity before reaching out and laying a hand atop your own

you immediately stop fidgeting and look at him with wide eyes. he can see with a pang how you’re trying to come up with the best way to let him down easy

so he does the job for you

“I just wanted to say thank you for the other day,” he says, forcing a light tone. “when you brought me those goodies after work. It really meant a lot.”

you blink, confused. “Oh. uh, you’re welcome.”

“and,” he drawls, a well-rehearsed smile clawing its way onto his face, “I wanted to snoop and get the inside scoop about Jiminie. I know he got you that bracelet. did he finally cave and confess to you?”

you look shocked, but you burst out into relieved laughter. “how did you know?”

he didn’t. “how could I not? he’s absolutely whipped.”

and you blush under the stars and begin to ramble, lost in your excitement and joy.

and Hobi watches. smiling. supportive. laughing at the right spots and asking all the right questions.

later, when you give him a tight hug and thank him for the fun night, he lets the words sting as you call him “such a great friend.” he lets them sting, relishing in the pain.

he reminds you to take your flowers home, and you begrudgingly admit that they’re your favorite type of flower.

he didn’t know. but that hurts, too. the fact that he got it right.

Hobi never looks at the color yellow the same way again.

Kim Namjoon

he’s told you he loves you a million times now

every night, in every dream, he tells you how much he loves you

adores you with everything he is

you manage to find your way into his music, his musings, every piece of artwork he comes across

he's never been like this before

never, he’s sure of it

and everyone knows, except for you.

it becomes a strange game for the boys to play, dropping hints at every opportunity, laughing at your confused expression

Jungkook and Taehyung especially enjoy the chaos that they create, making Namjoon groan and grow embarrassed

but you have no idea

or are you just willfully ignorant?

all Namjoon knows is that he’s swimming in his feelings for you, completely lost and on the verge of drowning

but, oh, what a way to die

he’s never been able to stop himself when it comes to you

and he considers himself rather disciplined, but the way you make him feel he could throw caution to the wind and give it all up

so when you end up staying late one night at the apartment, the boys manage to convince you to stay

“there’s plenty of room” Jungkook muses, feigning deep thought. “besides, it’s too late for you to drive back tonight. just stay.”

and while Namjoon wants to kill them all for the way they offer up his bed to you, he thinks he might actually die when you reluctantly agree with a yawn

he knows he should offer to take the couch, but something stops him

it’s like he physically can’t

“I don’t mind sharing the bed” you state, squinting at him while wearing his basketball shorts and oversized t-shirt.

you look adorable. he’s unsure of how he’s even functioning right now, to be honest. he’s melting.

“just keep your snoring in check, loser”

and he’s back to laughing, turning off the light and hopping into bed

you’re so far away

why are you so far away?

“hey” he whispers, the sound so loud in the quiet. the only other sound is the muffled voices of the other members, no doubt down in the kitchen gossiping about the events of the night

“hey yourself” you whisper back, turning to face him

he can see you in the moonlight, his eyes having adjusted just enough.

and he wants to kiss you so badly

so he smiles, heart leaping when you smile back

and he reaches out, gently tracing your jawline.

you say nothing, heart thundering in your chest

because to be honest, you’re confused

why is he looking at you like that?

but you don’t ask as Namjoon takes a deep breath, steadying himself before propping himself up on one elbow and looking down at you with an adoring expression

your eyes flutter closed as he brushes his thumb against your cheek, and he can feel your heartbeat racing

your reaction gives him all the courage he needs as he leans down, lips capturing your own in a long, sweet kiss

and he’s going out of his mind because he finally kissed you, didn’t he?! finally!!

but those are your hands on his chest, and instead of pulling him in closer you’re gently pushing him away

“namjoon.”

he’s never hated his name so much.

“I’m so sorry- I- I thought that maybe-” he stutters, pulling himself upright as you do the same, and he launches out of bed, hands in his hair “I’m so sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable-”

“Namjoon.” you repeat, and he notices now how utterly distraught you look.

because you’re still confused, but there’s one name rolling around in your head even as you can still taste namjoon on your lips.

“I...” you shake your head, unsure of what to say. “It’s just...”

and he’s looking at you with big eyes, taking in every single word you say. and you want to take it all back, want to let him kiss you until you’re breathless, but your heart won’t let you.

“Just what?” he asks quietly, afraid of the answer. so afraid

“...Jungkook.”

two syllables, and his world comes crashing down around him.

namjoon is silent, avoiding your gaze as he grabs one of the pillows off of the bed and a spare blanket, heading toward the door.

“I’ll sleep on the couch. I’m sorry.”

and he’s gone before you can utter another word.

sure enough, the boys are still downstairs, and they all fall silent as Namjoon appears, throwing the pillow down on the couch.

“Hyung!” Jungkook asks, scrambling over. “Hyung, what happened? What are you doing down here?”

Namjoon can’t bring himself to look at the maknae, not when he can still picture how it felt to kiss you. not when those few seconds of paradise are still on his lips.

“Didn’t wanna wake her up with my snoring.”

because how could he ever be angry at the boy that looks at him like he’s his savior?

m.list || buy me an orange juice?

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging so other people can read it! 💖

taglist: @baepsaetay @dreamcatcherjiah @kookie-vuitton @thecaffeinatedscribbles @moon-write @fangirl125reader @heishichoulevi@knjkitten @sacha-cff @vik7797 @eusticenatalie @hesmyphenominiall@miriamxsworld @kayahay @secretlycrazyhummingbird @marianeamine@hqtetsurou @protontippens @beginwithamin @limiworld @jeonyoongi-jimin @buttvi @yoontaethings @sunshinejunghoseokie @delacyrose224@jiminiesmagicshop @hitsussi @fanfictonreader05 @hyungieyoongi @lolalee24

#bts reactions #namjoon reaction #jin reaction #yoongi reaction #suga reaction #hobi reaction #bts hyung line #bts angst #bts maknae line #bts x reader #this is seriously a bummer of a post lol #bts fanfic #bts scenarios

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a-cupof-jo · 3 years

Text

Dyspnea

Parings: Potion Master!Jaehyun X Medicinal Herbalist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Intended Angst, Magic!au

WC: 4.1K

Warnings: magic inaccuracies, food mentioned, tiny bit suggestive

For @ficscafe fic scenario event!

Summary: The candle flickered as Jaehyun’s breath caught the flame. The life you two lived together was simple, but he wouldn’t change anything about it, “Happy birthday, Jaehyun. Make a wish.” The flame flickered out. He hadn’t known it then, but he should have used that wish more wisely.

Prompt: 38. When they test out a love potion on their partner.

It wasn’t fair that so many people get to enjoy this day while he is stuck behind the shuttered windows dark shadows. He doesn’t hate this day. How could he? It was Valentine's day- and his birthday but that never mattered. Not to the everyday people who slip through his door hours before this day begins. He can’t blame them. For they came in search of something only he can provide.

Love.

Or at least some figment of love. For some it was a way to prove their love. Others used it to try and get their long time crush to like them back. Jaehyun can’t help but laugh every time a young teenager pushes open the door to his shop for the nth time that week saying that they wanted to test this “love potion” on another person. Of course he doesn’t give them a full love potion. Just something diluted down closer to an addictive, like honey. It barely lasts 15 minutes.

He hears a bell chime from the other room. Whipping his hands on his apron he walks through the separating doorway. “I’m sorry,” he glances toward a cracked window that no longer had sunlight gleaming through it. “I am actually closed.”

“Oh,” a man just shorter than Jaehyun stood in the middle of the room. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I’ll just come back tomorrow.” He bit his lip lightly glancing around the room.

“Nonsense,” Jaehyun waved his hand. “You are already here. Might as well make good of the trip. Besides. I don’t mind.” He grinned at the man, trying to ease the tension that laced through the newcomers face.

The man sighed before stepping closer, “I still feel bad.”

“Don’t,” Jaehyun gave a light laugh. “Gives me something better to do than stir pots,” he watched the man warily as the sentence left his lips. “Magical beings” were still a wary subject for some people even if they had been able to practice in the open for nearly 50 years now. When the man just gave him a small smile Jaehyun stepped behind the counter that held his potions and elixirs. “What can I help you find today Mr…”

“Oh, Lee. But just call me Taeyong,” he waved his hand around peering through the glass at the display. “Well here’s my situation.” He glanced up at Jaehyun. “I have a date coming up and my date said there is this potion that allowed a person to change their hair color just by drinking it,” Taeyong looked amazed as he stared up at Jaehyun. “I wanted to try it out for our next date. That, and I’m not sure how much more bleaching my scalp can go through.” He combed his hand through his hair giving it a light tug at the bangs afterwards.

Jaehyun grimaced as he watched the straw like strands fall back into place, “Well you’re where you need to be. I have a lot of potions for that.” He moved down the row to where a shelf full of colorful bottles filled every inch. “There’s all of these, plus I can also create other colors if you don’t see one you like here.”

Taeyong peered back through the glass eyes wide with wonder. He glanced around the box a few times. "What about white?" He rested a hand over a bottle he assumed to hold the potion.

Jaehyun grinned, "One of my best sellers." Reaching for a little black jar Jaehyun scan the man. He would obviously look good with white hair. He probably looks good with any color of hair. "You just want to try the white?"

Taeyong hummed a second glancing toward the moonlit window, "Yes, just the white."

Jaehyun set the bottle is a small leather pouch, "2 shillings." The coins clinked as rested on the counter. "Enjoy! Have a good night." He watched the thin man walk through the door and past the window before latching the door shut. Taeyong had been pleasant and kind but Jaehyun couldn't help but be slightly peeved with the man. Unlatching the door he peeked his head out; he glanced to his left and, yes, there was still the sign with hours stating 'Dawn to Dusk' hanging off the building.

The moon was bright tonight and he couldn’t help but stare at it. How could it be that a ball of rock could bring him such peace. Maybe it was just the ambiance, but a little part of him wants to believe that there's a little man that lives on that moon and watches over the earth. It might seem ridiculous, but he could brew color changing elixirs and make people fall in love, so it couldn’t be that far fetched.

“Happy birthday, sweetie,” Jaehyun jumped lightly as arms wrapped around him from behind. He sighed as you placed your chin on his shoulder. “Sorry I wasn’t back earlier. I got stuck talking to Johnny at the market.” Your finger traced little patterns on his stomach as you both stood in the dimly lit doorway. “Come on, I’ll make dinner.” You pulled at his arm. Jaehyun closed his eyes taking a deep breath of clear night air before turning and giving you a soft smile. “I may have something for you. You know, considering it is valentines day.”

“Only because it’s valentines day,” He raised an eyebrow at you as you glided through the small store.

You were once an enigma to him. Someone he couldn’t reach, couldn’t touch. Your brother, adoptive brother, Johnny was Jaehyun’s best friend growing up. You were the aloof younger sister that Jaehyun hardly knew about until you made it to your apprenticeship. For as long as Jaehyun had known you, you’d have always been enamored by plants and flowers. So, when he found out you were studying herbal medicine, he wasn’t surprised.

“Of course, what other day would it be,” you gave him a small smile as you stood near the pot Jaehyun had previously been working at.

Jaehyun's relationship with you had been moments of fleeting looks, paths crossing, and unspoken rules. Two lives bending and swaying, following the same path, but never touching. Until you broke the pattern, you veered off course.

He had just finished his apprenticeship with the, now retired, potions master Kim. Mr. Kim had taken Jaehyun in from a young age, raising him when Jaehyun’s parents decided they didn’t want anything to do with someone containing magical properties. Johnny had planned a small party congratulating Jaehyun on his success. He didn’t know you were going to be there. Even if you were Johnny’s sibling you never showed anything but indifference to Jaehyun. Music had played from a small group of boys too loud for the space they were in.

You had sauntered over, a small flute of champagne dangling from your fingertips. "Can you do it?" Jaehyun had been surprised by your bluntness. "Take over for Kim. There's gonna be a lot of pressure," you noted, not unkindly.

"There will be, but Mr. Kim wouldn't let me take over if he didn't have at least some confidence in my abilities," he swiped the glass from your hand and swallowed down the contents. "Besides, he's still going to be around. He hasn't cut me loose yet."

You grabbed his hand in yours and tugged him towards the outskirts of dancing people, "A dance?" You didn't wait for a response as you twirled him closer to the center of the floor.

Jaehyun was not surprised at your fluid movements. Johnny had always bragged about how his sister was a natural dancer and the best in their city, perhaps the world. He smiled at you now sharing Johnny's sentiments. You gave him a small grin in return as the music died, "You're going to be great."

A whoop went up from one of the musicians, Donghyuck, Jaehyun's brain supplied. Your grin grew as you raised your voice in a louder whoop. Jaehyun watched as the sentimental atmosphere changed. You grabbed his hands leading him to a lively dance, "Beside, you can't fail, not when I'm just a few doors down."

"You mean cause Ms. Joy is a few doors down," Jaehyun teasing corrected.

You shake your head at him, "I'll be a few doors down."

You were, and a line that you didn't know existed between you both was crossed. Jaehyun wasn't sure who started the late night rendezvous or the unspoken pact of always standing by each other, but turned into late night talks which turned into early morning coffee, and later, shared lunches.

You guys fell into a rhythm, a three year rhythm that morphed into passing kisses, soft hugs, mornings of gentle coaxing and nights of soft loving.

Jaehyun wrapped his arms around you glancing into the pot full of a clear liquid, thicker than water and smelled of sweet syrup, "Busy?"

You spun to face him shaking your head as you fixed the collar of his shirt, "Everyone was too busy being in love to be worried about visiting me.”

“Ah, the prettiest healer on the street doesn’t have love on this day,” Jaehyun furrowed his brow. “I knew this would happen. You would leave me because I have given love to everyone but you.”

You gave him a light giggle kissing the corner of his mouth, “I would never leave you.” You spin out of his arms walking further towards the house that sat behind the shop. “You are my soulmate,” you gave Jaehyun a look full of adoration and love.

Jaehyun was sure that his face read the same, “My perfect half.”

You motioned for him to follow you, “Come, I made something for you.”

“Made something for me,” Jaehyun stepped into the small living areas entryway. “What is the occasion?”

“It’s Valentine's Day,” you had shrugged, pulling a large dutch oven out of the convection oven. You turned and furrowed your brows at him, “and I think there’s something else going on today. Any idea what that is?”

Jaehyun shrugged, “None that I can think of.”

“Hmm,” you opened the lid letting more of the aroma fill the room. Your mouth popped open in mock surprise, “Oh, that’s right. It’s your birthday.” You placed vegetables on the table before scooping up some hot soup. You widen your eyes at him, humor dancing through them, “I can’t believe I forgot about it. Especially because I got you something special.”

“Something special?” Jaehyun placed cups on the small table as you set down the plates. “Where is it?”

You grinned and leaned in close to his ear, “That’s for me to know and you to find.” You laughed as Jaehyun let out a choked breath and scanned you up and down. “Now, let’s eat. You’re going to need all of your energy.”

“You are going to be the death of me,” Jaehyun gave an astonished laugh grinning as you sat across from him placing a small cupcake in front of him.

The candle flickered as Jaehyun’s breath caught the flame. The life you two lived together was simple but he wouldn’t change anything about it, “Happy birthday, Jaehyun. Make a wish.” The flame flickered out. He hadn’t known it then, but he should have used that wish more wisely.

Jaehyun hummed under his breath as the sun shone through his shop's open windows. Spring was just around the corner and Jaehyun’s happy mood couldn’t be dimmed. Warm bright weather brought in more customers. More customers meant that he was busier, and brought in more revenue, but mostly he was busier. That was one reason Jaehyun loved his job. He was working with his hands all day. There was never a moment where he was bored.

He watched as a little boy walked between the two aisles the shop held. It wasn’t much, but the little trinkets and common potions that lined the shelves made Jaehyun proud of how far he had come. He could still picture the small store from when he was around the young boy's age. Laughter sounded through the store as the boy tried to escape his mother's hands. "Have a good day!" Jaehyun watched the giggling pair walk out the front door. Turning to the backroom he sighed looking at the pot that sat there.

The weeks he had spent trying to develop a new love potion was wasted as he, once again, failed. Since before Valentines day, now nearly 2 weeks ago, he had been cooped up in that backroom, trying to find a better love concoction. You, while fully willing, were starting to become an annoyed test subject. Jaehyun couldn't help but get testy when you complained about the new love potion. If you were gonna tell him it wasn't good or right then maybe you could give some ideas on how to fix it. Maybe he just needs to find a new test subject. Jaehyun looked through the list of love potions and ingredients that he had already used. Too many, he scowled down at the pages and pages of notes he had made on each variety of potion he had made.

"Hello," he heard the little bell connected to the front door ring and someone walked around the shop, obviously looking for him.

Jaehyun sighed, rolled his shoulders back and tried to put on his best smile, "Hi, what can I help you with- Oh Taeyong. Hello." Jaehyun scanned the man in front of him. "The white looks good."

Taeyong reached up and ran a hand through his bright white hair, "Thanks. I love it and so did my date." He tapped his index fingers together as he walked back up to the counter full of the colored potions. "I wanted to try more."

Jaehyun smiled as the man scanned the rows, "We've plenty to choose from."

Taeyong narrowed his eyes, concentrating on different colors. He eyes flickered up and met Jaehyun's, "I can't decide. What do you think? What would look good?"

"He looks great in pink," a hand wrapped around his bicep. "He knows it too, but not many can pull it off well. You might be able to," Jaehyun grinned at you. While you were right about pink being a difficult color to pull off, you knew more than that, the pink dye was the hardest one to make. Which is why when Jaehyun glanced down at the box, he saw only 2 pink vials while the others had at least 10. "What about red? Maybe a green?"

Taeyong watched the two of you share another quick look. Clearing his throat slightly he looked down in the box again. "Red and green," he nodded his head. "Yes, I think I'll try those. One of each, please."

Jaehyun grabbed the two vials and placed them both in a leather patch that you held open, "Okay, 4 shillings." Taeyong placed the coins in Jaehyun's hand. "Have a good day!"

"You too," Taeyong gave a half hearted wave.

Jaehyun sighed as your arms wrapped fully around him, “What’s up?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at his face, your eyes fluted around looking for an answer.

“I still can’t get this potion right,” he ran his hands up and down your arms. Jaehyun felt you press closer to you, your hands started running up and down his sides. “I want something different, something that shows who you are supposed to love, but how are you supposed to know that.”

“Soulmates.” Jaehyun startled as the voice rang through the shop. He turned to glare at the man who had made him jump, “Sorry.” Taeyong raised his hands. “I didn’t mean to intrude or overstay my welcome, but I can’t help but be fascinated by all of this. And also you can’t really-”

“It’s fine,” your arms dropped away from Jaehyun. You finger tapped your chin as you considered Taeyong words, “Soulmates… that may work, but, how could you put something like a soulmate indicator in a love potion.”

Jaehyun tapped his hands on the counter. Soulmates, while not nonexistent, hadn’t been thought about in decades. In fact, Jaehyun didn't know the first thing about finding soulmates or even if he believed in them. It’s not not very plausible, he can’t just give someone a potion and tell them that it will give them their soulmate. There's more to it than that. More to love and being in love then just having souls destined to be together, "I can't do that." He shakes his head at the two who had continued to excitedly discuss the topic. He watched as their faces morphed to disbelief and disappointment.

Your hands came up to rest on your hips, "And why not."

Jaehyun reached into the glass cabinet rearranging vials and avoiding eye contact, "There's no way I can reveal soulmates. Too many indicators and no defiant way to squeeze all of those into one potion. Soulmates and their indicators have been hidden for years and it's rare that people ever find or want to be with their soulmate. Besides, there are too many variables."

"Too many variables," you gave a light scoff.

"What if you didn't give them a way to instantly reveal their soulmate," Taeyong cut in. "What if, instead, you revealed soulmate indicators or made them stronger."

"What do you mean," Jaehyun sighed. He knew they weren't going to give this up. The hope and excitement in their eyes made Jaehyun more hesitant to even consider creating this potion.

Taeyong walked closer to the counter where Jaehyun and you stood. “Soulmates, they are predestined, we can’t control or decide who they are or how we get paired. Now, many of us don’t meet our soulmates, the bonds aren’t as strong and people can find people they truly love. What if you strengthen the bonds? Revealed them?” Taeyong lifted his hand wiggling his fingers. “Sometimes I think I feel a tug on my hand, especially when I am at home alone. I can’t help but wonder if, hope, it’s my soulmate.”

You watched him, an unfamiliar look in your eyes. Slowly you turned to Jaehyun and grabbed his right hand in both of yours, “Please Jaehyun, you can do this, we can do this. Help others find their soulmate, their perfect half.” Your eyes pleaded with him.

It really wasn’t fair. You knew that he would do anything for you, and you used that against him. Jaehyun sighed, “Okay, I’ll try. If you think this will work I’m willing to work on it.” Jaehyun couldn’t help the small smile that graced his face as you gave him a hug cheering along with Taeyong. He watched as you danced around the room bidding goodbye as you ran back to work. Taeyong also raced out of the shop, saying something about a ruby and some fish. As he watched the door swing shut the smile dropped his face. He couldn’t help the dread that filled his stomach and the distinct feeling that this would not end well.

Jaehyun stirred the sweet smelling syrup again. This was his fifth attempt at this potion. By this point he was frustrated. Nothing was working, all he kept making were diluted love potions, potions that made eyes change colors when they saw their loved ones, and a potion that made your heart glow from inside your chest. Both you and Jaehyun had been disturbed by the last potion. He had spent two weeks trying to figure this out. Both Taeyong and you had been helping when and where you could. You would get herbs and plants of magical origins, guiding and helping with the new ones that Jaehyun hadn’t seen before. Whereas, Taeyong would stir the potions or gather, obscure, ingredients- fairy dust, dwarf warts, pegasus hoof shavings. While impressive, Jaehyun was too scared to ask Taeyong how he got all real, authentic these ingredients or knew about all of these ingredients. As far as Jaehyun knew, Taeyong wasn’t a magic user. Though he wouldn’t be surprised if he descended from fairies or mermaids.

He sighed as the potion bubbled the mugwort he just dropped in hissed as it blended, “Make a potion, they said. It will help people, they said.” He pulled out another vial. He had it simply labeled “love”. A base potion that he used when creating all his love potions, but this wasn’t a love potion, not truly. People don’t fall in love because of it, they may not even be able to find love because of it. With that thought in mind he set the base potion down and pulled out a different potion. It’s more medicinal, healing than anything else. It was the first potion that you and Jaehyun had made together. A potion that could heal a bond. Chi bonds specifically. Maybe it would work. If he broke it down to its core parts and mixed it with the current love potion or maybe the one that made your heart glow just a few nights ago.

Jaehyun jumped from his seat racing around the room grabbing ingredients and writing down ratios and doses. The smell of linens and irises filled the room. Jaehyun could help but feel comfort from the two smells. It smelled like you. Like a warm day under the sun laying in the little meadow sitting on the outskirts of town.

“It smells so good here,” Jaehyun looked up as you entered the room. You closed your eyes inhaling a deep breath. “Like just after it rains and…” you took another deep breath, “and roses.”

Jaehyun tilted his head. That was interesting. The scent was different to everyone. Maybe it was a comforting scent or the scent of your beloved. It may have worked this time. Jaehyun stirred the pot a few more times before turning off the heat, “I just need to let it cool now.”

You walked closer to him peering down into the now pale yellow potion, “You think it worked this time?”

Jaehyun wrapped an arm around your waist. He shrugged, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder, “Maybe. I tried something different this time. It may do the trick.”

You hummed as he swayed you both back and forth, “That’s good. I’m really glad that you decided to make this. Soulmates were intended to be together, to have each other and we’ve moved so far from that.” You reached up and played with his hair twirling it between your fingers a few times, “I know that it doesn’t really matter, but I’d like to know, to confirm what I know, you’re my soulmate.”

Jaehyun was so in love with you. So ready to spend the rest of his days with you. He took another deep breath, linens and irises, “My better half.” He kissed under your ear before moving to grab a ladle from beside the pot, “Would you like to ladle or hold the bottles.” You grabbed the ladle from him motioning to move closer to the pot. “Would you like to know what I used this time? What the heart of this potion?” He watched you nod your head urging him to continue, “Our first potion.” Your head shot up surprise lighting up every feature. Jaehyun laughed, “I still remember you rushing in here and demanding I help you. You had never had to make a medicinal potion for a chi before. I hadn’t either, but that didn’t stop us from trying. Maybe we were lucky, or maybe it was fate because that day I feel deeply and madly in love with you. You unlocked my ability to love.”

You stood still. Face slack jawed but eyes full of love, “You’re such a dork.” Jaehyun couldn’t say anything before you were in his arms, lips on his, and arms wrapped around his shoulders. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Jaehyun grinned at you, pulling further away from you. He looked over at the now empty pot. “Now, rock, paper, scissors for who has to drink the potion.” He held his hand up in a fist.

“Fine,” You rolled your eyes at him. “Rock, paper, scissors.” You sighed as he held up scissors motioning to cut through your paper. “Fine,” you picked up the small vial tilting it in a small cheers before drinking the liquid inside.

Jaehyun waited, the air tense around the two of you. A bell rang, but he didn’t pay any attention to it. A small red string pulled at your previously bare pinkie, “Hey guys! What’s going on. It smells so good here, like fresh linen and Irises. Are you guys back he- oh.” The string led past Jaehyun and tugged tight where Taeyong stood, his hand lifted in surprise.

Tag List: @qianinterprises @stayctday @infnteen

#ficscafe scenario event #ficscafe #k-dinernet #knet-bakery #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #soulmate au #magic au

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crimsonseekers · 3 years

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Fic Writer Interview

Tagged by @aphrodaisyacs! Thank you! :D

Name(s): Crimson, or Crim as I've been assigned by friends

Fandom(s): Ones I've written for are BNHA, Transformers, Sk8, JJK, HTTYD, Pokemon, and Hetalia. Those last three are on an old FFnet account I refuse to let see the light of day.

Where you post: AO3 (but as stated before I used to write on FFnet lmao)

Most popular one-shot (by kudos): League of Villains? League of Flat Earthers

I won't lie, I wrote that fic in maybe three or four hours on a whim following the unexpected success of my first bnha fic. Which brings me to my next point of why is it always the fics I put the least effort into or write on a whim that do the best (*side eyes entire [insert tragic backstory] series*)

Most popular multi-chap (also by kudos): area cryptid upset no one bothered to inform him of his tragic backstory

this is my most popular fice by a not insignificant margin lmao. i tell this story in discord all the time but i literally wrote it while dissociating during zoom calls and then decided to post it because it got long so why not? and then it got popular so i kept writing bnha fic and now i'm here.

Favorite story you've written so far: i'd say either a blood crown for two or love is stored in the medical stapler hidden in the anti paparazzi blanket

blood crown was a self-indulgent project that i didn't think there would be any audience for, so i was super happy that other people enjoyed it as well. the other one was a joke fic written when i joined CTABB in roughly two and a half hours, and is honestly one of the best times i ever had writing a fic.

Fics you were nervous to post: mmmm i don't really get nervous when posting, but if i had to point at one, then it'd probably be catch me when i fall (rated E). it was just a fic written in a fever dream, a weirdly charged emotional study of hawks and nagant's relationship, published within roughly 36 hours of me learning she had a name. it was just i knew that with her being such a new character, it was definitely going to be niche, so i wasn't sure what the reaction was going to be

How do you choose your titles: it kind of depends on the type of fic i'm writing, to be honest. with crack/humor fics, i just come up with the worst possible way of describing the premise (ex. "area cryptid upset no one bother to inform him of his tragic backstory," "diamonds are capitalism, shiny pebbles are forever,"). for fics with a more serious tone, i try to choose something that alludes to the climax or main plot point/emotional core (ex. "a blood crown for two," "where we fly on metal wings," "This Address Does Not Exist"), and sometimes i use the ye olde song lyric method if i'm really stuck (ex. "don't forget me when i let the water take me," "because with us you're free to sea,")

Do you outline?: lmao no.

okay, it's a bit more complicated than that. I've outlined maybe four or five fics ever - two of them were for zine fics because words weren't coming easily enough for the check-in, one was just because i thought that's what the multi-chap process was supposed to look like and was honestly more of a meme than an outline, and i currently have one that's an actual outline because it's a very plot-heavy au

Complete: like,,,, five zine fics (soon to be six since i need to finish one before the deadline in two hours lmao) that are locked in zine jail, the next installment of f1 au that's locked in beta jail, and a few fics that i wrote out by hand an still haven't typed up despite the fact they have started gathering visible dust

In-progress: A DabiHawks Pathologic AU, a sword spirit road trip AU, a catbi fic, another seven zine fics, four big bang fics, cyberpunk au sequel, and probably another five i'm forgetting because my life has spiraled out of control and this is less an interview than a desperate cry for help-

Coming soon: ....i uh.... am a tad burned out as the kids say, so the only thing i can definitively say is coming soon is my dabi bang fic, for which the premise is "the entire league thinks dabi is touch starved and thus touch avoidant but he's actually just severely immunocompromised" because i have a deadline on that lmao

Not started: more than i'm willing to admit - if i've ever mentioned or shown off an au that i didn't list as "in progress," chances are i haven't started it or have just put it on the back burner

Prompts? area cryptid and league of flat earthers actually both stemmed from the same prompt, but apart from those two the only fics i've written from prompts were for a valentines exchange i did with some friends last year - "Ritus," "Uncouth," "Not Exactly Procedure," and "Just Us"

Upcoming work you're most excited about: hmmmm my Whump Bang fic and my Hawks Bang fic are both going to cause significant pain and i can't wait to show them off, but my pathologic and sword spirit fics are also going to be excellent (once i actually work on them lmao)

No pressure tags: (i'm sorry if you've already been tagged, but it's been pre-established that i'm very out of the loop) @theycallmebol @amethystunarmed @draphrawrites @bittermoonswrites

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chibienvychan03 · 4 years

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It’s Valentine’s Day?

Pairing: Victor x female MC

Warning: lots of fluff and sassy MC

Summary: Given the amount of work you’ve received, the days blur into each other and you can’t believe you’ve forgotten about Valentine’s Day. You had planned on skipping it, but something changes your mind.

Gift fic for @otome0heart. Happy holidays!

When you arrive at the office, you find the atmosphere has completely changed. Instead of being hectic and chaotic, you see your employees whispering and giggling (mainly the girls), but the mood is definitely better though you still have your assignment to work on. Even though you’re their boss, you hate having to put your foot down hard so you will be able to complete it on time and on schedule.

As you’re about to say something, Kiki rushes over to you, looking like she’s on a caffeine and sugar high which to be honest is her default mode most of the time. “Boss, boss, boss!”

“Yes, yes, yes?”

“Who are you going to give your chocolates to?” Your confusion speaks in volumes. Sighing Kiki gives you that ‘I’m disappointed in you’ look. “Have you forgotten what today is?”

“Eh?”

“Told you so! She totally forgot.” Ah yes, Willow the voice of reason and sometimes the kill joy with reality. It makes you wonder what you forgot.

One glance around the office, you start noticing small things, namely all those red, pink, and white hearts. Then there are a few pictures of what appears to be a baby wearing a diaper while holding a bow and arrow. Isn’t it bad parenting to let a child that age hold a dangerous weapon? This annoys you, being left in the dark.

“What is it I’m forgetting?” You cross your arms over your chest, giving them that stern look, but it has no effect on them. They’re probably used to it by now or don’t care.

“I can’t believe you forgot! Hey, there’s still time to buy some chocolate.” Kiki bounces around you. Why is doing it? You have no clue except you wish she would stop as you’re becoming dizzy with her antics.

“Why is it important I buy chocolate?” What was so special about buying chocolate? It’s just another day. Wait a moment, what is today? Thanks to all the overtime you’ve been putting into this assignment, the days have become blurred. You at least know which day of the week it is, thank you Mister CEO and having to give updates.

“Boss, you have no romantic bone in your body,” Willow sighs a long one as if she’s the one suffering. She swivels in her chair to face the two of you. “Maybe that’s why you don’t have a date for tonight.”

“Date? We’re swamped with work. I can’t believe I’m saying, but we need to concentrate on this assignment.” For once, you’re the one who isn’t losing concentration or having a wandering mind as a certain someone who has a penchant for reminding you appears in your thoughts. You quickly squash those as now isn’t the time.

“Don’t tell me your date is work. Boring.” Kiki makes an exaggerated yawn.

Hearts. A baby wearing a diaper and armed with a bow. Chocolate. Date. What on earth involved all of these? Think. You rack your mind trying to figure out what they’re referring to.

Minor comes to the rescue. “Boss, who are you going to give your Valentine’s Day chocolate to?”

Your train of thought comes to a screeching stop. Wait a moment. It can’t be, can it? You pull out your phone to check the day. Friday the fourteenth of February. Oh shit. You can’t believe you forgot about this day. Then again, you have a habit of forgetting your own birthday. Oops?

All three of your employees are expectantly staring at you, waiting for you to answer their question of who you’re going to give chocolate to. Considering who your boss is and your desire for your company to be successful, you have no choice other than disappointing them.

“No one. I don’t have time for romance.” The truth hurts as many say.

“Boo,” Kiki pouts, but at least, she stops circling you like… a predator? “Why not give Kiro chocolate? He loves eating snacks.”

Err…..

“No way, she’s gonna give bro chocolate,” Minor chimes in. What a major fanboy. It makes you wonder if he’s started a secret fan club.

“Officer Gavin kicks ass,” Willow adds her two cents. “It’s a no brainer there.”

A guy from editing peers over the partition. “The mind is the strongest part of the body. I’m sure boss appreciates someone with a high IQ like Professor Lucien.”

“Kiro’s the same age as Boss.”

You plant your foot on Kiki’s as you do not want your age revealed to everyone. It works as she yelps and is now hopping on one foot, her good one. While you don’t mind them knowing your birthday, you do mind them knowing how old you’ve become. Not that you’re senior citizen old, but still!

“Two years isn’t a huge difference,” Willow points out. She knows you don’t want to reveal your age, but she does have a point about the age gap between you and a certain officer. “Not like four years.”

Minor nods his head in agreement. “And you two have a history together.”

“If you take into consideration, the ages people got married historically,” the editing guy counters. “Four years is nothing. Some of them are twenty years apart!”

“Kiro’s a lot cuter.”

“Bro can protect her,” Minor argues to which Willow agrees with. “He’s awesome with a gun and can take on ten guys at the same time.”

“Professor Lucien has helped with the show many times.”

Why is everyone interested with your love life? Or rather lack of it. Not that you mind as you have your priorities in order. It’s not like Minor or that guy from editing received any chocolate. The last time you checked, neither Kiki or Willow were interested in someone. You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You can celebrate all you want. Just leave me out of it… and make sure you finish your work.”

“So if you’re not giving Bro chocolate, then that means I got some and he didn’t.” Hold the phone, someone actually gave Minor chocolate? Who’s desperate enough to give him some?

You turn your attention to Kiki and Willow. “Have you given your chocolate?”

“Of course!” Kiki chirps and then she points to someone you can’t recall his name. The guy blushes when attention is brought onto him. “We’re going on a date tonight!”

Willow just points to Minor. This does not compute. Error. Error. Did she just admit to giving Minor chocolate? Yes, she did. “We’re going on a double date. Someone has to keep the kids in line.”

“Hey!” Kiki sticks out her tongue and blows a raspberry.

Reinforcements have arrived! Anna enters the room, carrying the materials needed for your latest assignment. “Back to work.” Yes! It’s nice having someone on your side.

“Awww… it’s Valentine’s Day.” Kiki pouts, however, she reluctantly returns to her desk. “We wanna know who Boss is giving her chocolate to.”

“She should give it to Officer Gavin.”

“Yeah, Bro will be happy to receive anything from you.”

“I’m sure Professor Lucien will appreciate your effort.”

“Kiro’s the best choice.”

“You guys…”

“We can have this discussion during our lunch break.” You nod your head in agreement. Maybe they’ll forget by then. “Since we all know, she’s giving it to CEO Victor.”

“Not you too.”

Lunch happens to take out from your third favorite restaurant. You originally planned to make your meals, thanks to those cooking lessons, but work leaves you with little time and energy. When you arrive home, all you want to do is face plant onto your bed and not wake up for the next eight hours. Thank whatever deity, they have delivery. It saves you time, and you can work up until your midday break.

Back to the battlefield you go. Your employees have other things in mind as they divvy up your portion amongst themselves and start working. You blink several times, wondering what has gotten into them. Were they not complaining about the workload? Why the sudden change of heart? There’s something fishy going on there.

You turn to Anna. “What’s going on?”

“I told them you’re taking the afternoon off.” Hey, aren’t you supposed to be the boss? “Hurry before the shops run out of the good stuff.” She ushers you out the door and then shuts it.

What about your purse? As if reading your mind, the door opens. Someone shoves your purse into your hands before shutting the door again. You attempt to open the door, but it refuses to budge. It can’t be locked as you can turn the knob. No, it’s more like something heavy is preventing the door from moving.

“You don’t want to give Kiro second rate chocolate!”

“Don’t you mean Officer Gavin?”

“Agreed. Bro is the one.”

“What about Professor Lucien?”

“You already know what CEO Victor likes.”

You resist the urge to bang your head on the door or nearest wall. Time to head over to the nearest shop for chocolate. While you’d rather not buy it, no one says you have to actually give it. You can make up a guy to give it to and eat the chocolate yourself. Yeah, that sounds like an excellent plan. You’d give yourself a pat on the back.

And then remember, you need a ride back to your place. Since you don’t want to give them any ideas, you decide to not call any of those guys. You scroll down your phone list and see the number to your classmate, the one Victor was ‘not jealous’ of. Yeah, right. You decide to send him a text, knowing that nothing would happen between the two of you since you’re female, and he swings that way. His quick response startles you.

He’s on his way.

His quick appearance also startles you. “I was in the area. You know dropping off my gift.”

“Aren’t girls supposed to be giving the gifts?” You blink several times, trying to figure out how this same sex thing works. While you don’t mind them, you have no clue about how they interact with each other. Your research lands you straight into the doujinshi area. While they’re entertaining, you doubt they’re completely realistic. Then again fiction tends to exaggerate things.

“Someone has to initiate it, and since he doesn’t have a clue, I have to,” your friend says with a slight shrug. It makes sense to you. “Have you given yours chocolate?” In spite of his helmet, you can tell he’s waggling his eyebrows at you.

“Ugh… Not you too.”

“Oh. Whoops? Sorry.”

You wave him off. “Not your fault. My employees are more interested in the lack of my love life than actually working.” He hands over you the second helmet.

“You gonna head home or buy something for him?”

Good question. While you want to head home, the thought of giving your ‘crush’ chocolate on Valentine’s Day sounds appealing even if it’s store bought. Then again, he does have a very high standard, considering his culinary expertise. By now, you figure all the good stuff is gone. Now the thought of going home sounds appealing.

“You can always make him some. I mean I did for mine.”

You stare at him as if he’s grown a second appendage. It’s something you hadn’t considered. To cover up your inevitable blush due to your friend being too smart for his own good, you shove the helmet onto yourself. “Is there enough time?”

“Unless you take several hours, you’ll be fine. Hey, why don’t I help you? It’ll go faster.”

“But won’t that be kinda like cheating?”

“You’ll be doing most of the work. I’m there to make sure things go smoothly and offer any suggestions.” Technically you’d be making it, but a little advice never hurts, right? Especially when the recipient of that creation happens to be that guy. Mister Critical.

If that’s the case, there’s no need to think about it. “To the nearest supermarket!”

Levi chuckled as he picked up speed without driving recklessly, making you wonder why he doesn’t seem to be the type to drive fast. His personality fits, but then again, looks can be deceiving as you’ve experienced many times, often with you looking like a fool. He pulls up close to the entrance of what appears to be a family owned supermarket.

“Ah, friends of mine own this place,” Levi answers your question before you can even formulate it.

Leaving your helmets, you two make your way through the shelves. You take your time to look at what they have to offer. For being this size, they offer more of a variety than you anticipated. You wonder what you’re going to use in your chocolate. Of course, it will not be too sweet as he isn’t into sweets like you. He says you’re sweet enough for the both of you. Maybe a hint of sweetness. Yeah. That means dark chocolate. You head to where they keep the baking supplies while your friend wanders through the other aisles. Dark chocolate with maybe some accents of… white chocolate?

“How about some flavoring?” He pops up from the next aisle, completely surprising you into an almost heart attack. “Oops? My bad.”

Once you get your breathing and heart rate back to normal, you see what he’s holding. He has a few different flavors in small bottles. They appear small, but you know better. Since they’re concentrated, a few drops will suffice lest the recipient be overwhelmed with the flavor.

Vanilla, rose, strawberry, and mango?

“Can you bring me one of each?” You request. Variety makes things interesting, and if one fails, you’ll have the others as back-ups.

“Sure.” Levi disappears just as quickly and quietly as he appeared. You swear he’s part ninja or something. Maybe he’s a secret agent. You end that train of thought before it takes a surprise journey.

With him not distracting you, you return your attention to the selection of chocolates in front of you. You read the cacao concentration before picking something not too bitter but not sweet either. On second thought, you grab more as you don’t know how many attempts you’ll need before you manage to make a decent chocolate. Having the main ingredient in your basket, you search for the others. Somewhere along the line, Levi takes the basket from you as it’s becoming heavier with your selections. Not that it was impossible to carry. Having a gentleman with you can be useful especially when you know he’s not interested in you other than being a friend and possibly siblings.

At the register, the cashier rings up your purchases. Your friend and she know each other. Yet, why is she attempting to flirt with him? Not that it’s any of your business. You just hate it when people are disappointed. He is either oblivious or doesn’t care like a certain someone in your life. Well make that four guys you know.

“Levi, why didn’t you call?” a middle-aged man appears. “I would have prepared your favorite snack.”

He politely declines. “Spur of the moment decision, and I have urgent business to attend to.”

“What can be that urgent you don’t want to spend time with your old pal?” He notices you’re in the company of his friend. “I see. What a cute girl you’re with. Whose girlfriend is she?”

“Er…” You attempt to answer.

“That’s the urgent business. I’m helping her win her crush over.” He appears to be teasing you, but something in his tone tells you he’s serious about assisting you with your quest to win him over and especially not make a fool of yourself like you normally do.

“He’s not a crush,” you mumble.

“Who took classes on cooking with me?”

You probably could pass off as a human tomato at this point. “That’s different!” You rack your mind trying to dig yourself out of this hole you somehow managed to fall into. Your brain starts waving a white flag, easily surrendering.

Levi chuckles. “I’ll stop teasing you.”

“You took cooking classes?” The cashier gives your male friend those eyes.

“Well yeah. It’s not healthy eating out or pre-made meals.” You wish you could have said that earlier. As they say, hindsight is 20/20. You hate it.

“We’d better get going,” Levi says, prompting her to hurry up ringing you up. “She still needs to cook and then give it to him before the day ends.”

Once you paid for the ingredients, your friend takes it back to his motorcycle before securing it and then you. He hops onto his bike and then heads to your place. You’ve been to each other’s homes so neither of you needs directions.

“Let’s do this!” You’re very much pumped to make these chocolates. And well if they turn out not the greatest, no one said you couldn’t eat them yourself, right? You plan on eating all the fails anyways, but even though you love chocolate, you hope there aren’t too many of them.

Levi smiles while shaking his head. “You’re like the little sister I never had.”

You turn to stare at him. Family? This brings several questions to mind, mainly about his family which he has yet to share anything about. “Only child?”

“No, I had an adopted brother, but that’s about it.” Levi shrugs and carries the bag for you. Good thing, it’s heavy. He doesn’t say anything more so you drop it.

Inside your kitchen, the two of you clean up and start prepping to make the chocolate. He helps with the set up but once you start actually making it, he steps back and let’s you take over with him supervising you. You decide to create four different flavors. Kind of like the saying, ‘Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get.’ In addition to the flavoring, you have picked up some nuts, because well why not? Sometimes you believe he’s nuts.

Just as you’re about to put the pot with the chocolate on the stove, Levi holds your arm. “You don’t want to put it on direct heat. Use double broiler.” When you stare at him in confusion, he turns off the stove and explains. “Get a larger pot and fill it with water. Then you place this pot in it. Make sure the water doesn’t go into your chocolate.”

“Oh. No wonder why my first attempt ended horribly.” Whoops? You follow his advice and grab a larger pot to fill with water. Once it’s filled, you lug it over to your stove and turn it on. Next you place your pot full of chocolate in it. When it starts melting, you stir it and are thankful it doesn’t burn or turn hard. Wow. You’ll have to remember this for future use. This batch will be the vanilla flavored, some with nuts. Once it’s a nice gooey mess, you take it off the heat before grabbing your already prepared tray. You stir in some nuts and then meticulously pour it into the molds. When you used up what you melted so far, you ask your assistant to place it in the fridge while you start on the second batch.

As it turns out, you have more chocolate than you anticipate. Oh well you did prepare in case of fails, but so far, there haven’t been any as you have a very watchful assistant who keeps reminding you. Maybe you need to improve your concentration and not let your mind wander that often. It’s great for creating programs, not great when you’re trying to do something that requires concentration.

“Why not chocolate covered fruit?” Levi suggests as he rummages through your fridge. He emerges with a pack of strawberries. When did you get those? Oh wait, you went on a grocery run a few days ago. Come to think of it, you wonder why you picked up strawberries as they’re not in season. Maybe they were on sale? Given Valentine’s Day, you wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the case.

“I’ll pick up some whip cream later.” When you bring your gift to him, you plan on grabbing some. That’s until you see your assistant holding a tub of whip cream. “What?”

“I snuck it in while you’re distracted.”

Your eye twitches as you didn’t see him with it at all, but at the same time, you’re thankful. It means no detour. After all, he’s doing you more than a favor by not only driving, but supervising your cooking. This time, you know what to do. You wash the strawberries and have your assistant dry them off with paper towels. With him being busy, you start up the.. you lost count batch of chocolate. You get it to a nice consistency and turn off the stove. Then you realize, you don’t have anywhere to place them. You notice a lined tray ready to receive the strawberries. After thanking him, you begin dipping the strawberries and placing them on the prepped tray.

Minutes later, you’re finished and have a messy kitchen, but it’s worth it to make those home-made chocolate. As to whether, they’d taste good is up in the air. You’ve made a few extra for you two to try before you gift him with it. He gets up to start help with the clean-up, but you push him back down. Levi has done more than his share.

Once they’ve hardened, you take out your tester chocolates and divvy them between the two of you. For your first successful batch, they’re not too bad. It’s not like those sold at candy shops, however, they’re a vast improvement on your first attempt… attempts.

Between the two of you, you manage to find materials to wrap up your gift to him. You also decide to give him some of the chocolate as you’ve made more than you anticipated. A friendly Valentine’s gift. Levi surprisingly accepts it and pats you on the head like some sort of cute pet. Hey!

Victor-Victor-Victor-Victor

Since you know Victor happens to be a workaholic and little romance in his body, you know he won’t take today off. If anything, he may be annoyed with the amount of chocolate he’s receiving from his female (and maybe male) fans. You stare at the gift in your hands, wondering whether or not to give it to him since he’s probably more than irritated. A nudge from behind causes you to stumble a little.

“He doesn’t know you’re here.”

“Er… I’m worried he’d find me annoying.”

Levi leans back on his motorcycle. “Why would he find you annoying?”

You wave your hand. “Capitalist CEO. He didn’t become a leading financial institution by being a pushover… or romantic person.”

“I’m sure he’ll make an exception for you.” You blink several times. “You’re a funny, kind, generous, hard working person. How could he not fall for you? If he so much makes you cry, I’m taking him out of the picture.”

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Instead you hug him. “Thanks.”

“Now go sweep him off his feet, and remember what I said about making him disappear.” He releases you so you can go to him.

“Right…”

“After all, no one messes with my little sister and gets away with it.”

“I’m not little!” you pout, but the huge grin on your face gives you a comical appearance. You hug him for a second time. “Fine, big bro.” Then it occurs to you if he sees you as his little sister, then oh boy… Victor would be in for a world of hurt should he hurt you. Isn’t that what big brothers do?

“Just don’t kill him. I still need him to sign my paychecks.”

“All right. He’ll be missing a limb or two then.”

You playfully punch him. “I’m serious. He still needs to write.”

“Who ever said it’s those limbs?”

This time your whole face turns red and you smack him with your purse. “You!”

“Feeling nervous?”

Come to think of it, you’re not. He’s distracted you with his shenanigans. “Nope!”

Something falling catches your attention. You see Goldman hastily picking up folders and papers. Having some mercy on him, you decide to help him pick them up. Unfortunately some of them fly too far from either of you and are about to escape when your big brother catches them for you. You thank him for it.

Goldman sounds nervous as he’s trying to warn you of something. It sounds like gibberish. “Slow down and take a deep breath.”

“Later!” Levi waves to you.

“Bye, big bro!”

This time Goldman’s jaw drops. Did he think you two were? Oh boy.

“We’re not in that kind of relationship. More like we adopted each other as siblings… unofficially.”

Goldman lets out a sigh of relief. “It’s a warzone in there.”

“Let me guess. Victor has many admirers giving him unwanted gifts?”

“Ding ding ding. You have won a prize. Yeah, he’s in a very, very sour mood. Please don’t say anything to upset him further.”

You give him that look. “I’m not that bad.”

He returns that look. “Yes, you are. I don’t know how many times you’ve left boss stressed out. I lost count.” Hmph. See if you help him with any of his assignments.

“I guess it’s better I don’t give these.” You hold up your wrapped gift.

“Are those chocolates?” Goldman looks horrified at the thought.

“They’re not sweet! I made sure of it. They’re not the greatest, but I’m getting better at cooking.” You’re proud of what you’ve accomplished and how far you’ve come from being a walking kitchen disaster.

“You made them?” Goldman gulps as if you’ve made Victor his last meal.

You glare at him. “I’m not that bad, and big bro helped me with them.”

Goldman shakes his head. “Good luck in there.”

“What? You’re going home?”

“No. I’m running errands.” He checks his watch. “Oh crap, gotta go before it’s too late. Thanks for your help.” With his papers and folders secured, Goldman wastes no time in leaving you in the dust.

“Bye?”

Might as well be prepared to enter the battlefield, aka LFG. You check your gift for the hundredth time you’d probably stare holes into it. Everything is good to go… except your feet. You mentally shout at your feet to start moving. After several swear words and threats, your feet start moving to the entrance and then inside where everyone looks like there’s a ticking time bomb somewhere.

Come to think of it, there is a literal ticking time bomb who calls himself their boss, aka Victor. The people move skittishly around you as you make your way to their boss’ office. Having given so many reports, you can walk there in your sleep. As you come closer to his office, the people become more stressed out and anxious. You’re tempted to sneak up behind them and yell “BOO!” However, a figure who suspiciously appears to be victor pops up in your mind, telling you that it’s childish behavior.

Even in your mind, Victor is a kill joy.

Just as you’re about to raise your hand and knock, you hear several strange noises coming from behind that wooden barrier. You blink several times before placing your ear against the door. While it’s bad manners to eavesdrop, you’re worried about Victor. Is he hurt? Does he need an ambulance? That’s what you tell yourself when that same figure chastises you about listening on other people’s conversation. From what you hear, it doesn’t sound like someone needs medical assistance. Phew. You take a step back, but being the queen of klutzes, you trip on something invisible (rather yourself) and fall back, landing right on your rear.

“Ow…” Somehow you manage to keep your voice low though it’s not low enough as you hear movement from behind the door.

Glancing around, you scurry over to a place to hide. Why are you hiding when you’re there to see Victor? You have no idea. Impulse perhaps? It’s small. You shove yourself into that little corner, hoping he would not venture further than the doorway to look out.

Victor lets out his sigh which you believe is reserved for you when you’re behaving childishly, looking like a fool, or thinking something he considers stupid. “I know you’re here.” When you don’t move or make any noise, he sounds exasperated. “I’m not mad at you. Promise.”

Since he has never broken any promises, you crawl out of your little hiding place. As soon as you appear in his sights, he seems to be in disbelief. Probably because you’re there or how you managed to cram yourself into that tiny space.

“I heard you went home early,” Victor starts off. He appears like his normal self though you know better. Even if he won’t admit it, he’s worried about your health.

“I’m fine.”

“I can see that.” His posture screams he wants to know why you’re there in the first place.

“Err… I have something for you.” You walk up to him before shoving your gift at him, more like at his broad chest.

Victor turns his attention to the thing you’ve shoved at him. “What’s this?”

“If you want to know, you’ll have to open it,” you tease him. Given the wrapping design and theme, it’s not hard to guess you’re giving him a Valentine’s gift.

“I’m not into sweets.”

You puff up your cheeks. “I know that. I made sure they’re not too sweet.”

His long fingers start to meticulously unwrap his gift. “You made these?”

“Yep!” You sound very proud of yourself.

“Shouldn’t you be giving it to your boyfriend?”

EH???

“What boyfriend?” Seriously you don’t recall being into any guy.

“You hugged that guy twice.”

“Oh, what about big bro?”

This stuns Victor into silence for a minute or two. “You don’t have any brothers.”

“Well now I do!” Wait a moment. “You’re jealous of my gay brother again?”

“I’m not jealous of your gay brother… again? What’s that supposed to mean?”

This leaves you in giggling fits. It takes you a few moments and a stern look from him for you to calm yourself enough to talk. “Do you remember the cooking class you substituted for?” Nod of his head. “It’s the same guy. My gay friend turned gay brother.”

You catch a blush appear on his face just as he turns away. “Hopefully they’re edible.”

HEY! “I worked hard on them. Big bro says I’ve improved a lot.”

Victor motions for you to follow him into his office. There are several stacks of papers and folders both on his desk and around it. What’s going on? It’s never this cluttered when you’re there ever. Victor appreciates his space being clean and orderly. You should know as he scolds you for making a mess or for putting away things in the wrong places.

“If now isn’t a good time, I can leave,” you say in an unsure tone.

“I’m almost done.” Victor ambles over to his chair behind his desk. He picks up his glasses and places them on his face. Without looking in your direction, he adds, “I’ve made reservations at that new restaurant you wanted to try.”

What? You rack your mind, trying to think how he heard about it. The only person you told is your now new big brother while you two were making those chocolates.

“You mentioned it in your moments post.”

Oh that. Making those chocolates and then mustering up the courage to give them has pushed that thought way, way far down. “Hehehehe. I forgot about that.” Wait a moment. “I made that post during lunch. How could you get reservations? It’s hard to get them unless you make it days in advance.”

“I have my ways.” Victor shuffles papers around before settling on one. His eyes never leave it as he continues the conversation with you. “It’s called having connections. You can use more of them.”

Ouch… Does he have to be that brutal? Although you know he’s right, you wish he’d tell you in a more gentle way instead of dropping it on you like a bomb. You’ve been working on gathering connections and have invited a few influential people to your show. Had it been a year earlier, they wouldn’t even consider being on your show which indicates how much you’ve grown and learned under his care.

“You’re better than when you started.” Is this a complement? If it isn’t, you decide to take it as one.

“But isn’t it expensive?” You recall the reviews and how they say it’s pricy but definitely worth it for the quality and experience.

“That’s for me to worry about. All you need to worry about is what you want to eat.”

“Okay.” You make you way to one of the chairs when you realize one of the chairs is occupied by a large mountain of gifts. In fact, they’re practically burying the poor furniture. You hadn’t noticed this, however, to be fair, you had several things on your mind. The fact your gift hasn’t joined this enormous pile gives you hope that Victor would try what you’ve made. At least yours has a chance of being opened.

After pulling out your phone, you browse the restaurants website, more specifically their menu. Their prices cause you to wince. It’d take you a week of work to get enough money for one meal, and that’s for yourself alone. As if on cue, Victor tell you to order what you want and ignore the price. He can afford it. According to him, it’s cheap for that kind of restaurant.

Wow… Cheap. The life of the rich and infamous.

You pull out a pen and pad of paper from your purse. When Victor raises a brow, you stick your tongue out at him. “It’s for random ideas.” As soon as he returns to his work, you peruse their menu. There are a lot of things you’d like to try and most likely to overeat, making a fool of yourself in the process. So this time, you’ll come prepared. You will plan what you’re going to eat for future visits so as to not tempt yourself to eat more than your stomach can handle. For a second, you consider telling Victor, however, you squash that thought. He wouldn’t praise you or acknowledge you for something he considers trivial.

By the time you finish selecting your dishes for this visit, Victor has finished cleaning up. “Will you be ordering the entire menu?”

Ouch… “Yes,” you reply with a cheeky grin. “Hope you can afford it!”

Victor stands over you, looking down at you and your notes. His soft snort tells you he’s read them. “Indeed you have ordered everything.” He pauses. “Wise decision to spread it out on multiple visits.”

Oh my. Did he just praise you again? While you’re tempted to request he say it again, you decide it’s better to not push your luck. After all, he’ll be paying for future visits. Unless he increases your salary, you doubt you’d be able to afford it without having to make sacrifices and live off of cup noodles like a certain someone who shall remain nameless.

“Are you going to try your gift?” You ask as you follow him, noticing he’s carrying your gift with him.

“Chocolate is for dessert,” Victor reminds you, causing you to blush. Right.

“Does that mean you’ll try it after dinner?” You bat your eyes even though he can’t see behind him. He doesn’t have eyes in the back of his head or does he? Hm… He has a knack for catching you doing things when he’s not even facing you or looking in your direction.

“Yes.”

His one-word reply causes you to be giddy with delight. You hope he likes it as you’ve put effort into making it…. Even if it’s last minute, but he doesn’t have to know that! What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him for now.

Victor-Victor-Victor-Victor

With it being Valentine’s Day and Friday night, the restaurant is packed with a long line going out the door. If they’re willing to wait outside, then the food must be worth it. You become excited with anticipation. It may not be Victor level cooking, you appreciate good food.

“Victor, I—”

Some heavy set male runs straight into you causing you to lurch forward. Instinctively you brace for an impact that never arrives. Instead you find yourself in the embrace of the man you like a lot… maybe even love? Once Victor helps you back on your feet, you notice two things… Victor glaring and second your high heel is no longer high heel on the left side. You believe he’s glaring at you, however, he’s not looking directly at you, more like over you.

“Why should I apologize? She’s standing in the way,” the guy argues. Where should you stand? It’s not like there is a vacant spot for you to occupy. Now is there?

“You should look where you’re going. Perhaps you need glasses. I can help with that.”

The guy starts turning red. “I can see just fine.”

“Then you should have seen her.” Victor indicates you.

“She’s tiny. Careful someone might sit on her.”

Why you!

Victor stops you from marching straight up to him and giving him a piece of your mind. “On second thought, you’ll need a lawyer.”

“What?”

“You could have given her a concussion, and you broke her shoe.” So Victor did notice your heel-less left shoe. Hard to get anything past him.

“Gentlemen,” the restaurant’s manager speaks up. “There will be no violence in this establishment.”

“Tell that to him,” the rude guy grumbles.

“How is knocking someone over not violent,” you finally explode. “I coulda gotten a concussion.”

“Mister, please leave.” At first you think he’s referring to Victor, but his next words confirm who. “I’m terribly sorry, Mister.” He’s facing Victor. “Your table is this way.”

“Err…” You can walk but awkwardly with uneven shoes.

Victor understands what you’re trying to get at before you can say it. He literally sweeps you off your feet and carries you to your table. On your way there, more than a few customers look in your direction and whisper. Not everyday a guy carries a girl to their table.

Not like you have a choice given your broken footwear. Still it’s embarrassing to be stared at by these strangers. Somehow Victor ignores every single one of them. Of course, he does. He’s the great and mighty Victor. His name is very much appropriate for him.

At your private table, the manager fusses over the two of you, making sure you’re well taken care of before taking his leave. It makes you wonder if this is the usual service for Victor whenever he goes out or if it’s from the earlier incident. Thanks to you having decided what you want to eat before you arrived at the restaurant, you’re able to put in your order. Considering how packed this place is, you wouldn’t be surprised should service be slower than usual. Not that you’ll make a deal out of it.

Now what?

“Are you sure you’re just siblings?”

You groan. Not this again. “I’m sure of it. Unless I become a guy, he’s not interested in me.”

“You sure he isn’t lying?”

Here we go for another round. “I’m sure of it. We both like looking at cute guys and before you say anything, appreciation for nice aesthetics doesn’t mean I’m in love with them. It’s superficial level appreciation.”

Victor appears skeptical, but he doesn’t push it further.

A random thought pops into your mind, causing you to giggle.

“What useless thing are you thinking of this time?”

“All my thoughts aren’t useless. My mind can be creative and imaginative, okay?”

“What is it?”

You prop your head on your hands. “You should be more worried for yourself.”

“Oh?”

“If he’s going to hit on anyone, it’ll be you.”

Victor is stunned into silence. You’re not sure if he’s against same sex couples or tolerates them. Maybe it’s the realization that yes, there are men who would be after him. He probably had not even considered it much less thought about it.

“And if you hurt me, well you know how big brothers are overprotective of their little sisters.” You somehow recall he’s good at martial arts, very good at it. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to put it to use against a certain someone.

“He won’t have a chance.” Oh confident now are we?

Before either of you can say another word, your waiter arrives with a bottle of fine wine. “On the house.” She places it in a prepared container of ice. You peer at it. Oh it sounds good from what you’ve read. Apparently you’re not the only one who read it.

“You can have one glass.” That’s better than nothing. You’ll take it.

Victor-Victor-Victor-Victor

Man you’re stuffed. The food is too good, but not as good as a certain restaurant which Victor knows all too well, considering he owns it. You’re thankful you ordered just the right amount. Knowing yourself, you’d still keep eating even if you’re full.

You pull out your phone. “I’m going to give them a five-star review.” In your review, you write about your experience there including the incident before dinner and their heavenly cuisine. If Victor asks where you want to eat and doesn’t feel like cooking, you know what you’re answer will be.

Victor scoffs at this though he seems to be amused and overall in a good mood. When you place down your phone, you notice your gift has been opened.

“So what do you think?”

“Needs improvement.” Your spirits sink. “But you’ve come a long way from when you started. I’ve had my fair share of less than desirable results in the past. No one starts out good or perfect.”

Then Victor must have had some fails when he first started cooking. This somewhat lifts your spirits. Considering he has a huge head start over you, you take it stride. It’s not like Rome was built in a day as they say.

After paying for your meal (minus the wine), Victor once again sweeps you off your feet to carry you to his car. Unlike some big wigs, he doesn’t need a chauffeur to drive him around. He’d probably become too impatient waiting for the poor person.

“Where are we headed?” You ask as soon as you’re safely secured and he’s behind the wheel.

“To the mall.”

“Eh?”

“Your broken shoes.”

Oh. “I can repair them at home.” You don’t want to trouble him more than necessary.

“I’m buying you better ones, sturdier shoes.” In his language, it means more expensive and better quality.

By now you should be celebrating. Free dinner and shoes, but somehow your heart isn’t into it. You’re not sure why.

“Aren’t you going to gloat about getting free shoes?”

You turn your head to face him. “Not in the mood.”

“Is something wrong?” Victor sounds genuinely concerned, given how you love to banter with him.

“It’s… I don’t know. I guess I’m not ready for this to end.”

“Is that so?” Victor takes a few seconds to look at you before turning his attention back to the road.

“I’m actually enjoying spending time with you.” Shut up mouth! Why don’t you dig a hole and bury yourself in it?

“Are you sure it’s not the food?”

This time you glare at him. “It’s not always about the food. Believe it or not, good company makes the food taste even better.”

“I see.” No, you don’t.

You puff up your cheeks and stare out the passenger side window. Could this get any more awkward? Scratch that. You don’t want to jinx yourself.

“Why don’t you spend the night at my place?”

Say what?

“A certain someone says she doesn’t want this to end.”

Right. “I don’t have my stuff.”

“Already taken care of.” How in the world? You decide not to question it.

Victor-Victor-Victor-Victor

At the mall, Victor carries you as he’s not willing to risk you tripping and falling due to your broken shoe. Says that you’re a walking disaster with two good shoes. When he teases you, you can feel the warmth and affection in his voice. He does care in his own way, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. It just wouldn’t be him.

When the sales lady notices you and your predicament, she hurries over to you. “You poor thing. I’ll find a pair of shoes that’ll flatter your figure.” How does she know your size?

After Victor places you on a chair, you take off your shoes and turn one of them over. Oh… Right in the middle is your size. You haven’t worn this pair enough times to wear out the writing. Meanwhile Victor stands guard over you. Not like you’re going to have another person try to shove you to the ground.

The sales lady returns with a dozen pair of shoes. How she managed to carry all of them. You’re not sure nor do you ask. She does have good taste in footwear. You try on all of them, some of them twice. So many nice shoes, but you only need one pair. You don’t feel like owing Victor a lot. After some consideration and thought, you narrow your selection down to two.

“Which looks better? This or that?” You’re wearing one of the pairs.

“We’ll take them both.”

“Um… I need one pair.” Mouth, stop moving and let him buy you the damn shoes.

“Since a certain dummy can’t decide, I’ll buy them both for her.” Victor grabs the box for the shoes you’re wearing and the other pair. He heads over to the cash register.

“You have a nice boyfriend.”

BOYFRIEND?! “Er… we’re good friends.”

“Are you sure about that? The way he looks at you.”

You blink in confusion. “He’s probably annoyed with having to replace my broken shoes.”

She laughs. “No. He looks at you like you’re his most precious person, a treasure he intends to protect.”

“Eh? How do you know it’s that?”

She holds up her left hand. “My husband does that a lot.” Now you notice the ring on her finger. She’s married. “Take my advice, don’t let this one go. He’s a keeper.”

“Right.”

Once he’s paid for the shoes, you insist on taking a stroll through the mall to walk off dinner. Victor isn’t happy though he indulges you, and the two of you take a leisurely walk through the building. Good thing this is an indoor mall so you don’t have to deal with the cold weather. As you pass by the window displays, you take a good look at their merchandise. A pair of rings catches your attention.

“Promise rings.” You didn’t plan to say it out loud. You did anyways.

“Those are for children.”

You roll your eyes at him and point at the price tag. “I don’t think children can afford that on their allowance.”

“Right.”

The cute puppies and kitties catch your attention. You hurry over to look at them and maybe they’ll let you pet them! They’re so adorable. Although you’re tempted to adopt one, you know you don’t have the time or energy to properly look after one. Maybe one of your friends will let you pet sit? You’d be more than willing to look after their furry four-legged family member for a short time. After all, you took care of Pearly while Gavin was away on a mission.

Inside the store, they have more than kitties and puppies. They have fishes, mice, lizards, and birds. You’re not crazy about mice or lizards. The fish are pretty to look at, but they’re kind of boring. It’s not like you can play with them or pet them. A small bird wanders to you and starts whistling. Is it serenading you? You glance around to see if the employees would let you pet the bird. Sadly they’re all busy. You reach in and the bird scoots over to your hand before climbing onto your finger. Then it makes its way up your arm and onto your shoulder. It snuggles against you.

“Oh wow, he’s never been this friendly with anyone.” A store employee appears, startling you and inadvertently the bird too. “Sorry. We normally don’t let people touch him. He tends to be grumpy most of the time.”

You reach up and start petting him. He leans into your touch, chirping in content. “Really? He seems friendly.” If this bird is as how the employee makes him out to be, you’ve found Victor in bird form it seems. Maybe this can be Victor Junior? Thinking about Victor, where is he? You thought he’d follow you into the store.

“Miss?”

“Yes?”

“Please adopt him! I’m begging you.”

What?

“You’re the first person he’s been nice to. I didn’t think he would be attached to anyone.”

“Um… I’m busy so I don’t think I can properly care for him.”

“You’ll do fine. These are great starter birds since they’re not hard to take care of.” The store employee begins telling you the benefits of having a pet and one that’s low maintenance. You find out this is a cockatiel. Thinking about the name causes you to giggle.

Between the store employee and the cute birdy eyes, you break down and decide to adopt this adorable creature. This time, you’re paying for him along with what’s needed to keep him happy and healthy. He’s content to sit on your shoulder the entire time and growls whenever he thinks someone is a threat to you.

Cage, food, toys, perches, feeding dishes, something for water, some basic first aid, and the bird himself.

“What makes you think you can take care of a pet?”

This startles you and causes him to almost fall off your shoulder. “They’re not hard to take care of, and he’s cute.”

“All animals are cute to you.”

“Not all of them.” You glance over to the lizard section. “And he really likes me.”

“Right. Are you sure it’s not some sales gimmick?” Victor folds his arms over his chest, waiting for your answer.

“I’ve seen him interact with others. He isn’t social but he’s friendly with me.” You reach up to pet him, which he happily accepts. “He’s like a bird version of you.”

Victor lets out an exasperated sigh. “Since you’ve already bought him, let’s take the stuff to my car.” Wow, you didn’t think Victor would be on board with you purchasing a pet this quickly. You decide not to point it out.

On the way to his place, the bird is content with being on your lap. You’ll need to name him since you can’t keep calling him the bird or bird.

“Victor Junior or Vic for short.”

“What are you up to this time?”

“He’s just like you.”

“….”

“So I’m naming him after you.”

“This is ridiculous.”

You stick your tongue out at Victor. Victor Junior copies you, much to your amusement. “Our son isn’t ridiculous, are you?” You coo at the little bird.

“Our son?”

“Fine, my son.”

Victor-Victor-Victor-Victor

Victor Junior has picked up quite a vocabulary during his stay at the pet shop. You can’t help but giggle at his antics. Since you’re spending the night there, you’ve set up his cage once human Victor has brought in his supplies. It’s getting late and Victor Junior looks tired. He’s yawning up a storm. You place him in his cage so he can get some sleep.

Since Victor is a gentleman, he insists you sleep in his guest room. It appears while you’re taking care of the bird, he prepared the guest room for you. Before he takes his leave so you can change, he holds out a small box. Is that a ring box? You open it to find one half of the promise ring set.

“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

Victor stutters, attempting to deny it and saying that you’re interested in it.

“Now look who’s being silly.” You pull out the ring and slide it onto your finger before giving a surprised Victor a hug. “Does this answer your question?”

His response? He pulls you in for one passionate kiss.

Where the hell did he learn to kiss like that?

#mlqc #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc zen #mlqc MC #birb #otome0heart #mlqcsanta20

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thoughts-of-a-bibleophile · 3 years

Text

family

not me jumping onto the shusumi week train when there’s only a few days left

i apparently used all my braincells to make this fic and saved none for the title

i...was very much possessed by a writing ghost when doing this. i was just reading some fics and suddenly had the idea for this and then an hour later, i had this fic. i was actually going for seasons when i first wrote this, but it very much turned more into a family piece, so here we are.

i’ve been a persona fan since about 2018, but this is my first work and, honestly, i’m really surprised it’s not shuake/akeshu since they’re usually my main ship. but the beauty of multi-shipping is that i can also love shusumi! i just think they’re really neat.

also, gonna be honest, i... think? this counts as shusumi? even though the focus is a lot more on family than anything else. i wanted to do a more internal piece about sumire and her thoughts after the events of royal, which i think i more or less got across here. there is definitely some shusumi in the end, though!

anyway, without further ado, i hope you enjoy!

if you’re in this tag, you probably don’t need this, but just in case: ***persona 5 royal third semester spoliers ahead!***

word count: 1.6k summary: sumire visits kasumi a year after the accident and reflects on everything that’s changed in the last year.

no beta, we die like men (i’m sorry in advance if there are mistakes, though!)

“I can’t believe it’s been a year.”

It was spring. The trees were green and blooming with flowers, the air perfumed with their sweet scent. Below them, rows upon rows of stones lined the grass, gray and somber, though some holding a pop of color from leftover flowers. A lone girl stood at one, clutching her own bouquet in hand, sakura petals clinging to her red hair.

She should be with her friends right now, celebrating their graduations and having their going away parties. But she couldn’t. Not after everything that had happened. Not without telling Kasumi first.

Of course you’d be the stick in the mud who had to ruin their days, a far too familiar voice seethed in her mind. She did her best to ignore it.

She bit her lip, wondering where to begin. How to begin. So much had happened that it seemed almost like a dream.

“I don’t even know where to start, but I guess the beginning is better than nothing, right?” Sumire sighed. “Honestly, you were always better at this than I was, but I’m going to do my best.”

And so she began. From living life as Kasumi for so many months to cope, to her short time as a Phantom Thief and battling monsters they had only heard of in storybooks, to her days of being lost as Sumire and denying the truth, to finally accepting herself with the help of her friends and-

“Akira...” she trailed off and felt herself smiling just at his name. “You would have loved Akira. He’s the one who was there through it all. He met me as, well, you, but he still likes me as Sumire and-“ She felt her cheeks warm, thinking of his ridiculous, yet romantic antics since she had blurted out that confession. And the fact that he had reciprocated-

Sumire shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts and her blush. That was a story for another time, another visit.

“Anyway, he’s actually the leader of the Phantom Thieves, but he also goes to Shujin. Things didn’t start out that well for him there, but he faced it all head on and did some incredible things. And he met so many people and has so many great friends.”

She paused. “Well, I guess they’re kind of my friends, too, now.” She shrugged to herself. “I wish you could meet them, Kasumi. You would fit right in, as usual. They’re all so kind and caring and funny and- I never thought I would meet people like them. Like I know you always had amazing friends, but for so long, I didn’t think I would ever meet people like that.”

I didn’t think I deserved friends like that, the thought rose in the back of her mind.

The stone in front of her said nothing. Not that she expected it to, but it felt nice talking to it anyway. She played with the edges of her bangs, lost in thought for a moment.

“But...that’s in the past.” She gripped the flowers in her hand tighter, her voice rising as her resolve hardened. “I made a lot of mistakes before, Kasumi, but I’m not going to make them again. I’m going to live my own life and make our dreams come true as Sumire Yoshizawa!”

Again, the stone said nothing. Her words hung in the air for a moment, only to be blown away by the breeze. She fiddled with the violets in her hand.

“I thought you’d like these. I know they’re your favorite.” She tried to smile, only for it to fall moments later. She tried to swallow the lump quickly forming in her throat.

“I know I didn’t tell you this when you were here, but I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts.” Her throat felt tight, her chest hollow, like something had carved a hole into it, never to be filled again. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as her head dropped, the old familiar feelings of guilt and despair slipping through the walls she had carefully built back up the last few months.

“I feel like I’m messing this up; I was never good with speeches like this.” She sniffled, pulling off her glasses to swipe at her eyes. “I just wish you could be here somehow.”

She closed her eyes, wishing just for a moment, for a sign that her sister was listening. The spring breeze picked up again, rustling the leaves of the trees around her. She opened her eyes to see the petals spinning in a circle, almost like they were dancing in a swirl of pink. It reminded her of the pink ribbons she and her sister had first practiced with, of dancing with her friends and of gymnastics and everything that she loved.

Perhaps it had been simply a coincidence or perhaps she was making something out of nothing, but it was enough. It was a reminder to live. To live their dream, to live her life.

Sumire smiled and sighed when the petals fell back to the ground as the breeze lessened.

“I’ll be back soon, Kasumi. I’m going to a graduation party for two of my friends! Makoto and Haru, I’ll tell you more about them next time.” She placed the flowers carefully into their designated spot. “And I’ll make sure to bring new flowers next time, too! And... maybe I’ll bring Akira next time. So you can meet him.”

With nothing in her hands, she fiddled with the hem of her coat, feeling like there was something left to say still, despite knowing that she likely didn’t have much time left.

“I don’t know what’s coming next, but I know you’ll be there with me, Kasumi.” Pink flowers fell on the gray stone and for a moment she could imagine them caught in brown hair instead. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that, but I’m glad I know now. I really am going to do my best to make our dreams come true, Kasumi. And I’m going to keep on going and live my own life! I promise.”

With a firm nod to herself, Sumire cast one last look at her sister’s headstone before returning to the walking path. Sakura blossoms covered the top, with purple violets at the bottom. Small sprouts of white flowers had begun to bloom at its base, leaving little gray showing through. Colorful and full of life, just like Kasumi.

Sumire turned back to the pathway and made her way back down to the entrance, full of hope for the future to come.

At the entrance, a boy with black hair and glasses stood, lost in thought, his hair covered in sakura petals as well.

Whether it was from leftover abilities from the Metaverse or he was just that perceptive - she was betting on the latter - he turned toward her as she descended the last few steps down to meet him.

Akira said nothing, just opened his arms to pull her close and rest his chin on the top of her head. She sank into the embrace, feeling the heaviness in her heart lighten just a bit. His hugs were great, but they weren’t magic, even if he liked to say they were. They had a long road ahead, especially her, but she knew they could get through it together.

“Thank you for waiting,” she said, more into his coat than to him. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

“It’s fine. I knew it was important.”

Sumire tightened her arms around him, nestling further into his chest, wishing they could just stay like that forever. But she knew that wasn’t possible, so instead, she looked up.

She had seen a lot of his smiles in the time she’d known him, but she’d only seen this one once before. It was on Valentine’s Day, when his usual smirks and grins had softened into the one he wore now, a quiet little thing that held such care and love that it made her heart clench.

“I’m proud of you, you know that?”

She blinked at him. “Why?”

“I know how hard it was to handle everything, let alone talk to your sister about it. But you did it. That takes a lot of guts, Sumire.”

She felt her face redden and that soft smile edged slightly into his familiar grin.

“I-It wasn’t that big of a deal,” she stammered out. “I mean, I wouldn’t have had the guts to even come here if you weren’t with me, senpai, and even then I didn’t do anything that special!”

Akira laughed, probably at how easy it was to still make her blush around him. He was so annoying sometimes and he knew it.

But then he was serious again and searched her eyes for a moment.

“Are you going to be okay? We can always just stay at LeBlanc and watch movies if you don’t feel up to the party later.”

Sumire shook her head, feeling more okay than she had in a long time. “I want to go and be with our friends. I’ll be okay.”

He smiled and kissed her, a simple, short thing that had done a dozen times at this point, but it never failed to make her head spin and her heart sing.

“If you’re sure,” he said as they separated, only to link their hands as they walked to the station. She squeezed it and felt herself smile, more of the heaviness in her heart lifting at the thought of seeing her friends soon.

“Time to celebrate!” she cheered into the early April sky, the sun seeming to shine brighter in agreement. Hand in hand, they ran toward the station, to meet their friends and celebrate the start of something new.

so that was sure something. i hope you enjoyed it?

sorry, it’s not on ao3 - i just...have not set my account up, so all of my fics are very much just vibing on tumblr. one day i’ll finish setting up my ao3.... one day...

anyway, let me know if you like this! i honestly have no idea if i’m going to be doing any of the other days, but we’ll see.

#shusumiweek #shusumiweek2021 #akira kurusu #sumire yoshizawa #persona 5 royal spoilers #shusumi #my writing #i cannot believe i churned out a fic like this after months of writers block #will this inspiration stick around? doubtful

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paaradoxum · 5 years

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BakuTodo Rec List of Fics Vol. II

It’s been a while since the last time I did the other list and many new, wonderful fics appeared (the dynamics will be the same: AO3 fics that includes top!Bakugou and bottom!Todoroki for those that are NSFW), so if you wanna check out here is Part I.

This time there are 32 fics in this list, I have more and probably I will make Part III soon.

Spoiler: EVERY SINGLE one of these stories are FUCKING AWESOME.

Rating: G

→ flowers die, feelings grow by kinneyb

Summary: When Bakugo first visits a local flower shop with Jirou, he buys some flowers in a lame attempt to piss off one of the employees - a guy named Shouto. But then he gets a little too invested in keeping his flowers alive.

→ Pretty by doop-doop.

Summary: Like so many things that had to do with Shouto, the question took Bakugou entirely by surprise. “Do you think I’m pretty?”

→ For a Single Moment by itsclowreedsfault.

Summary: Katsuki shakes his head with a sigh and an unbidden smile. Shouto's always been like an overexcited kid when it came to cats; Katsuki should've known he didn't stand a chance against them in Shouto's first visit to a cat cafe.

Rating: T

→ Ruin My Life by justhavesex.

Summary: He's not a vengeful person, really, he's not.

But him and Bakugou have started this little on-going war of theirs back in middle school when they were 10 years old and Todoroki had accidentally—if you got Todoroki drunk enough and fed his ego well enough he would, in fact, admit that it was very much on purpose—accidentally fed Bakugou's limited edition All Might magazine to his cat.

→ Aesthetic Distance by llyn.

Summary: This was around the time Shouto was appearing in all the blogs and rags and instagrams wearing a hideous faux fur coat of bright, hot neon like some awful crawling creature from an acid trip had been hunted and skinned, its pelt draped over Shouto's shoulders.

→ Dance To This by justhavesex.

Summary: Bakugou has never cared much about being an alpha, not really, not until he met the most frustrating omega in all existence: Todoroki Shouto.

→ Welcome to the Mile-High Club by minhakos.

Summary: In which Todoroki realizes that maybe airplanes aren't the only thing that should make him nervous.

→ Boyfriend Tactics by Esselle.

Summary: 'Shouto's eyes go impossibly wide. He seems to lose all powers of communication for a moment and just stands there, frozen, staring at Katsuki and the kitten. Finally, eventually, he utters the tiniest noise Katsuki has ever heard him make.

"Ah…" '

Katsuki comes to the aid of a small and fluffy civilian while on patrol.

→ Line by Line by Lillabelle.

Summary: With half his sketchbook filled with drawings of the guy, Katsuki wondered if he’s already crossed the line of being insanely creepy. They’ve never spoken, and he honestly only knew the person’s name was Todoroki Shouto because of role call in class. Shouto was just… so unique to look at with his half and half appearance. It was hard for Katsuki’s eyes not to get drawn to him. Not to mention they shared several classes, so if Katsuki ever got bored and felt like drawing something, there he was.

→ a todobaku one-shot collection by kagehinataboke.

Summary: all of my multiple, multiple, multiple todobaku one-shots. i stan two (2) dipshit boys that are obviously in love and hate with each other.

→ amaryllis by ?

Summary: The amaryllis has come to symbolize pride, determination and radiant beauty. Somehow this all suited Katsuki a lot more than Shouto expected.

→ tell ourselves a good lie by ElmoIsSatan. (In-Progress 12/?)

Summary: For a straight guy with anger issues, getting a “boyfriend” might just be his only escape.

Or-

Bakugo makes an impulsive decision and suddenly gains a boyfriend just to prove his parents wrong... The only problem is it’s all fake.

→ how to register for a library card (and get a boyfriend in the process) by Kaleid369.

Summary: “Friends have each other’s numbers, yeah?” Bakugou shrugs. “I don’t hate you, I guess.”

“Lucky me.”

“Lucky you,” Bakugou snorts. “I gotta go. Text me so I have your number.”

“I will.”

He's already started walking away when Shouto blurts out, “See you tomorrow?”

Bakugou shoots him a smirk over his shoulder, as if to say, Duh.

Shouto stands and stares at his retreating back, and the thought of kissing him pounds along with the beat of his heart.

→ on brand by dinosuns.

Summary: Midoriya is honestly unsure what’s worse: the tragic fact that Todoroki Shouto can make anything look objectively incredible or the fact Kacchan has six versions of the exact same photograph saved onto his camera roll.

Nobody saves a photo that many times by accident.

Kacchan set the bar, Todoroki raised it. That is not a good thing.

→ The Journey Home by dinosuns.

Summary: “Your hair looks real fucking nice.”

“I thought it was about time I grew it out,” Todoroki says, something wistful caught in his voice. “You were always saying I should.”

That’s true. And Bakugou is satisfied to know he was right about it looking good, but it’s not like he can share that with the fucking class anymore.

Bakugou tells himself that he's fine with how things turned out between them. He also tells himself he's not still in love.

Rating: M

→ Zephyr by yeetin. (In-Progress 4/?)

Summary: The breeze that sifted gently through a golden sea of tall, dry grass brought the tiny spike of a different scent. An inconspicuous little prickle down the spine, barely even worth paying attention to. Something no one else would even imagine being able to notice.

But Bakugou did.

→ Objection, Your Honor by Myona. (In-Progress (8/?)

Summary: Shoto Todoroki hated Katsuki Bakugou. And he had plenty of reasons to do so.

But he didn't know that how things can change for the two of them who saw nothing but trouble in each other's presence and life altogether. Katsuki was a trouble from the first time Shoto heard his name, to the first day he met the man.

Rating: E

→ On Hot Blondes and Drunken Hookups by Crossfire. (In-Progress 4/?) I love this so so much.

Summary: “I’m Bakugou. What’s your name, Pretty Boy?”

Shouto looks at the drink in his hand, then back to the beautiful blonde boy, then back to the drink and downs it in one go, ignoring the slight burn as it slides down his throat, and while it would have been more suave to appear unaffected, he gives his head a little shake. He takes a quick breath and forces the words out before he has a chance to realize what a massive mistake this all is.

“Hot blondes I want to bang can call me Shouto.”

→ Tick Tick Boom by Ajaxthegreat. (In-Progress 6/?) THIS is so good, I’m in love.

Summary: An exhausted socially awkward violin prodigy and a deaf punk rock drummer walk into a bar.

→ Better Take a Mental Picture by chibibeeee. This is HOT HOT.

Summary: The one where Deku watches Bakugou take Todoroki and their exhibitionist kink is unlocked.

→ Cover: Blown by darkanddank. (In-Progress 1/2)

Summary: Some undercover agents got hooked on drugs. Went full Stockholm Syndrome, flipped and joined up with the other side. As Bakugou’s palm went flat over Todoroki’s navel and dove beneath his closed zipper, Todoroki started to understand just how easy it might be to go rogue.

...aka cop Todoroki gets his world rocked so hard by bad guy Bakugou that he has an existential crisis

→ Just One Bite by Crossfire.

Summary: This particular fuckup begins when he saves a cat from a demon in a sketchy alley.

Well, maybe slightly before that when his esteemed hedge-witch mentor turned out to be an incubus who coincidentally turned him and his stupid nerdy neighbor into incubi.

Or maybe when he was born to a non-magic family, but early on developed minor magical inclinations that turned out to be not-so-minor and kind-of-hugely-destructive.

Wherever this fuckup was born, it’s culminated as follows: Bakugou has been an incubus for one hundred and twenty-two days, seven hours, and thirty-six minutes, has not had a single successful feed, and is essentially slowly starving to death. His mentor is suspiciously MIA and that stupid shitty nerd has managed to secure himself a two-person harem so it’s just Bakugou, starving. To death. Slowly.

→ Gangster by Brixxen.

Summary: Bakugou is a detective trying to solve a case that's been open for months. He ends up in a town and meets a man who could be his undoing...

Todoroki wasn't expecting the blonde at the bar to leave him wanting more...

→ How to spend a Friday night by veltana.

Summary: That's how Katsuki ended up on his bed on a Friday night leaning against the headboard with his laptop between his spread legs, his hard dick in his hand, watching Shouto open himself up for him on the screen.

→ Your Turn by doop-doop.

Summary: An extra scene/epilogue/continuation of smd.

Bakugou and Todoroki housesit for Bakugou's parents and take advantage of Bakugou's large bed.

→ Comfort by hellaradholly.

Summary: Katsuki agrees to be Shouto's roommate after UA despite having an unbearable crush on him.a gift for Katie for the BakuTodo Valentine's Day Exchange!

→ Empire of Dirt by castiiron, clairesail. (In-Progress 5/?)

Summary: There was something different about being with Bakugou Katsuki. Something that Shouto had been searching for tonight, to no avail. A consistent burn in his gut, the warmth of a fire that hadn’t been stoked in many years. Katsuki had been inexcusably rough with him. Harsh in a way that had pulled him back to reality. Shouto hadn’t realized he was missing out, being so used to what he knew; going through the motions, a means to an end. His life for the last few years had revolved around mediocre sex as a way to abate constant desire, always at the forefront of his mind.

Unhealthy coping mechanisms are easier to hide when you aren't screwing your ex-classmate.

→ Be Quiet by chibibeeee.

Summary: Katsuki and Shouto stay the night at Deku's. If only they had any self control, then they wouldn't have to keep so quiet.

→ Speak Softly My Sweet Villain by Brixxen.

Summary: Ask anyone in Tokyo and they’ll tell you the same thing. That the No.1 Pro Hero Todoroki Shoto is the perfect hero. He’s kind to everyone, always the first to arrive on a crime scene, always the calm and collected hero everyone wants him to be.

It was ironic how things happened to lead Shoto to his current situation. Him moaning and shuddering like a teenager, clinging to the strong perfect body of the most wanted villain in Japan, Ground Zero.

→ Peanuts and Wolves by cashmeresho.

Summary: “Yeah, man, okay!” The guy holds up his hands in surrender and Shouto shoots him another apologetic look. “I really didn't know you guys were married! I didn't see a ring!”

“Oh,” Katsuki says. He frowns hard for a minute and then grabs Shouto by the arm to whisk him away to his table with Izuku and Kirishima to guard him or sniff him or whatever weird territorial thing he wants to do.

→ College Roommates|BakuTodo by S_Kuro.

Summary: Todoroki is the son of the famous Todoroki Enji, also known as Endeavor, his father is a famous business man that wants Todoroki to take over his business, but Todoroki wants to become a photographer. He goes against his father's wishes and goes to an art university miles away from home. There he meets a certain explosive blonde, who turns out to be his roommate. what sorts of ridiculous shenanigans will they find themselves in and what relationships will they end up in.

a BakuTodo fanfic

This is my first fanfic with these two, so don't judge me and I hope you like it.

→ Locker Room by darkqueen_25.

Summary: There are worse things to walk in on in a locker room, Inasa thinks, than your two new friends fucking against the shower walls.

There's probably nothing better than being asked to join in, though.

#bnha #mha #bakutodo #todobaku #todoroki shouto #bakugou katsuki #shouto todoroki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x todoroki #top!bakugou #bottom!todoroki #bakutodobaku #fanfic #fic recommendations #fic list

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absoluteindulgence · 5 years

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Drunk Passion (Server Collab Prompt)

A/N: Hey y'all, I just barely made it lol. I'm moderately happy with this fic, I hope you guys enjoy it.

Pairing: Mirio Togata X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Drinking/Alcohol Mention

Word Count: 1.8K

5 hours earlier, you stood in your room, giving yourself once overs in your full body mirror, complimenting yourself for choosing the right dress. Only to receive a call from your date who had to cancel due to "unforeseen circumstances." It was an understatement to be frustrated, and doubtlessly, you took it as a sign of them calling you ugly and blowing you off on purpose.

Your roommate, Mina, watched as you paced the living room rethinking your plans for the night. She reminded you of her third annual valentine's day party. This gathering initially started after the horrific event of her date happening on the love day, and trying to propose to her in broad daylight. From there on, she promised herself that she'd never be that naive again and dedicate the day to enjoy with friends.

Usually, you were away from home during this time of the year and briefly knew of the function. She always tried to invite you, but to no avail, you weren't around. Mina, the charismatic matchmaker, created a space for the people who hated, loved, or felt indifferent to the holiday, labeling it as the "Who Needs Love?" Party. You thought it would be a complete disaster, but it turns out, her parties equate to finding your "soulmate." Without plans to roam the city with a date, you were now a secondary host to the love fest.

The apartment you shared with Mina had a decent size and came with a balcony. There was a time where neither of you could afford to live on campus, and so you had to find a roommate to manage to stay enrolled, or else the work you wanted to do would be spoiled by a mere living situation. Moving into this luxury apartment was less than luxury, hence why it was so cheap. With Mina being a fashion designer and your skills being a moderate decorator, you created a space where you two loved the teamwork and effort put into it.

Looking way too good for no particular reason, you became a hit on every guy's list. A lot of the faces you saw weren't recognizable as you haven't met Mina's friend group from high school, but she made sure to introduce you to them. During the introductions, she seemed the fondest of the guy with the spiky red hair, favoring a porcupine. A twinkle in her eyes as she said his name with a discreet smirk directed your way. You were a great hostess making sure to check on the hordes of mixed emotions.

Passing through the warm atmosphere, you were grabbed by your forearm. Turning around, your eyes met with a tall, blonde-haired hottie. His eyes were piercingly blue as the grin was brightly targeted at you.

"Hey, I'm sorry to grab you, but I had been trying to get your attention for a while." His smile was faintly smug, but his tone was smooth like honey. He gently loosened his hold on your arm as he saw your immediate reaction of disgust, wondering who would dare lay hands on you. A chuckle came from his lips as he apologized instantly, "I didn't mean to upset you, I just wanted to know where I could get some air?"

He held onto a cup, on the other hand, probably full of booze awaiting your answer. As you were about to tell him, he thought you had already started speaking and moved in closer. He leaned ear first into your right shoulder, the heat from his breath, warming the back of your neck and shoulder. "I'm sorry, beautiful, I couldn't hear you."

The shocks running through your body, halted you from speaking. The blondie was so close you could see his jawline intensify and gather a hint of citrus and lime from the cologne he wore, even catching signs of his broad chest thanks to his button-down shirt being open below his collarbone. You quickly answered him, maybe too loud for comfort as he winced and smiled back after you pointed in the direction of your balcony. Bejeweled with gratitude, he nods, fading back into the crowd.

You try to peek over to see where he goes briefly talking to the red porcupine, with an indigo-haired guy and a periwinkle-haired girl close to his sides. The three seemed to be good friends laughing at your witty roommate's jokes as her crush, Kirishima, casually wrapped his arm around her shoulder. It looks as if only you caught how pink her face was as she snuggled closer to him. The buff blondie waves off from the couple and makes their way to the balcony.

Before he can leave your area of vision, you lock eyes. His azure sights peer into yours with a knowing, warm smile. A winking motion is made as he grins wide, heading out with his friends. The indigo guy was very antsy about leaving the crowded room, wanting more air than conversation.

You turn to leave the living room and head into the kitchen, bringing out more snacks and to acquire a drink for yourself. Placing pocky, shrimp chips, and gummy candy all throughout the coffee table between your long black couches. Being cautious of how you bend, not trying to give anyone a free show. Heading back into the kitchen, you pour some light liquor into a shot glass, wanting to feel a small buzz.

Just one for now while I make my rounds.

As you finish the shot and place it back on the marble counter, the blondie glides in with the same cup, but it's now empty. You stare up at the buff blondie, catching your breath as you get to take him in; hair down bang almost tickling his eyelashes as the rest of his mane rests at his brawny shoulders. Seeing him up close made your heart flutter as you didn't understand how attractive one man could be. His eyes wandered to your attire, and you blushed under his gaze. The kitchen area felt small now that he's sharing the same air as you.

As you were about to ask him for a drink, the periwinkle haired girl came in. She went into a ramble about the drinking game that was about to start until she saw your face, "You are so pretty, what's your name?"

You told her your name, and her eyes twinkled, "Ah, so your Mina's roommate, that's so cool! I'm surprised we haven't met before."

"I'm usually away during this time of the year, but I had no plans, and so I'm here, hosting tonight."

"That's great, I came to look for Mirio and found you too so please, play with us!"

You could see the intensity in this girl that had introduced her friend before herself. Her personality seemed overbearing but good-natured, she noticed your small smile and took that as non-verbal agreement. Taking your hand, along with her athletic friend. You took a quick glance at the blondie as he apologized, "Sorry about this, Nejire-chan likes making new friends. And yeah, I'm Mirio."

Reaching the central area wasn't an easy task since there seemed to be more people that came during the time you were taking a shot. Examining the room, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. There was a heap of smiles, blushed faces, and laughter roaring through. Reaching the couches, Nejire sat next to you as Mirio was on the other side of her. Across from you, was Mina, with a big grin talking to Kirishima and a couple of her other friends from high school.

An angry-looking guy with spikey ash-blond hair stood up from his spot on the couch, "Okay, so if you're sitting, we're gonna play a game of Mafia!"

Another guy chimed in, his hair yellow with black stripes on one side, "Mafia isn't a drinking game!"

"It is now if you don't figure out who the hitmen are!"

The banter continued, and Nejire took her time to remind you who everyone was. She didn't just tell you who was playing; she made it her mission to remind you of each soul in the room. The process is too reminiscent of speed-dating as she told their jobs and personalities like stats. Made for a one-sided conversation until she got to Mirio, the blonde hunk.

"And this is Mirio-"

"I know you told me, maybe he wants to introduce himself to me?" You stare at him with pleading eyes to keep Nejire quiet for more than a millisecond.

He catches your signal and automatically laughs, he reaches out to give you a handshake with a pleasant grin as he greets you. "Don't worry, Hado-chan, I can say my own stats." Her mouth gets a little puffy as he briefly apologizes to her.

Bakugou brought us back to attention, "Alright, so let's go over how to play, and we'll start."

______

Four grand rounds, and you could officially say you were drunk. You hadn't drunk this much since new years and worried this would result in alcohol poisoning. With the shuffling to and from couches, to make the game more interesting, Mirio had finally been seated near you. At times when it was time to discuss who was plucking off the civilians, you shared small details with each other, getting scolded by Bakugou at times.

Mirio looked at your giggly, flustered form and smiled warmly. He was happy to see you enjoy yourself and him being the reason. The game resulted in good friends with exquisite poker faces. Sero asked for another round since he hadn't gotten the chance to play God, and Bakugou refused.

"Hey, do you want to get some fresh air?" Mirio leaned over into your ear, "You look like you're ready to sleep for a thousand years."

You giggled with a nod. You raised your hand for Mirio to guide you and informed Tamaki that he was taking you to the balcony. You didn't notice, but the room was clearing out little by little. Assuming that the lovebirds were happy with their choice of the night, you smiled, realizing that maybe the same is happening to you.

Leaving the living room into the balcony was a change in atmosphere, you felt the chill air of midwinter hit your skin like a cool kiss, which was comforting from the sauna of an apartment. Mirio nicely placed you onto one of the outdoor chairs you owned as he positioned himself next to you with the other.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm happy," You smile, "I didn't realize how much fun her parties were."

"Me neither, this is actually my first time coming. I'm usually at work, so Nejire would try to drag Tamaki and end up coming by herself."

You share a laugh and stare at him. You look down at his hands and then back at his eyes, overfull of sparkles as they gaze into yours. He rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, and the night continues on as you share innocent rambles of your plans to see each other more in a drunken passion.

#mirio x reader #togata mirio x reader #mirio imagines #bnha imagines #mha x reader

148 notes · View notes

mythiica · 5 years

Text

Jar of Stars {IkeSen} Ieyasu Tokugawa

Title: Jar of Stars Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku Character: Ieyasu Tokugawa Genre: romance, high school au Warnings: slowburn, hint of angst, minor cringe (its a highschool au, what did you expect) POV: third person w/ mai Word Count: 5k words Other comments: a valentine's day fic! a bit different than usual, but hope its good!

“Do you need help?”

Ieyasu tips his head down, blonde bangs brushing over his eyes to hide his bashful expression. He isn’t exactly sure if she means to tease him, mainly because it’s the third problem in a row that he hasn’t gotten, but it makes his face flush nonetheless. Furthermore, it’s been at least an hour since the dismissal bell rang, but she’s still here with him. Wringing his fingers on the cords of his hoodie, Ieyasu mumbles his response: “Yes, I really don’t know what I’m doing here…”

Mai leans over the paper, tucking her hair back to prevent it from obscuring the question. The soft scent of her perfume brushes over Ieyasu.

Swallowing hard, Ieyasu fiddles with his pencil, tapping it against the desk to the same rhythm as his knee bouncing up and down nervously. The faded marks of graphite cover the blank space under the text, having been erased at least ten times.

“Do you have some paper?”

He turns around, rips one from his notebook, and offers it to Mai.

“Start by drawing what’s going on in the problem, right?” She sketches a diagram of a raft and then a squiggle for the water. For good measure, Mai draws Ieyasu’s signature scarf on the stick figure standing atop the raft before she smiles.

“Is that me?”

“Yes, you’re paddling over to the shore where I am, see?” Mai adds a small version of herself further down on the page. “We know the density of water and the dimensions of the raft,” she says as she adds a stick Mai a bit further down the page. “Wait, I take it back, you have the volume and the surface area, but you can find the height easily.”

Ieyasu takes the cover off of his calculator. Clicking through buttons, he pushes equal. “The width of the raft is forty meters? That doesn’t seem reasonable…”

Mai looks around her before pulling the chair from the next desk over. “This is in centimeters, you have to multiply by ten to the negative second power.” She takes the pencil from his hand, soft skin brushing over his knuckles. “Try now.”

“That makes more sense… it’s 4 cm.”

“Can you get the rest by using the formulas?”

Ieyasu nods slowly and leaves his hand open, silently asking for his pencil.

She obliges, handing it back to him. “If you’d like, I’ll show you what I got when you’re done. Alright?”

He taps the eraser against his paper, eyes large with admiration. Ieyasu zones out, thinking not about the physics problem under his nose, but about Mai instead. Although he appears composed on the outside, anything resembling a coherent thought tangles in itself. It’s safer if Ieyasu doesn’t speak so he doesn’t make an idiot of himself.

Mai leans back and looks over her shoulder to see if he’s made any progress, which he hasn’t, so Ieyasu sits forward quickly and scratches his temple.

Instead of returning to her work, Mai tips her head to the window and pulls the curtains back to look at the sky. It’s late after school, and the stars are already out for the night, pressed against the pinks and purples of the sunset. There’s even a heart-shaped cloud, glowing orange from the final rays of sunlight.

“I have to get going, but text me if you need anything, alright?”

“Yeah, thank you.”

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Ieyasu flips through the origami book, looking for instructions for how to make paper hearts. The pages have coffee colored crescent stains and are also folded at the corners like someone was trying to make an origami with the pages themselves. He flips forward, worn edges rippling over his fingertips, until he finds what he needs.

Below the title is a faded diagram of loops and folds that Ieyasu isn’t really sure he can follow. The ink has sunken into the paper, leaving a light imprint of the steps in the yellowed pages.

“Thinking of joining the origami club, Ieyasu?”

He looks up and scowls upon seeing Mitsuhide, milk bottle in hand, leaning over his desk.

“No, I’m making something.”

“Well of course you are, but why are you using that? Just look it up.” He waves his hand in the air, making condensation from the bottle fall onto the book. Ieyasu frowns at this and pushes Mitsuhide off of his desk.

“Why do you have to bother me?”

Mitsuhide muses at this – Ieyasu being more defensive than usual. “Could it be that you’re making these for someone?” Ieyasu gives himself away without meaning to, and Mitsuhide laughs triumphantly.

“Leave it, just forget I had the book.”

“No, that won’t do! You must tell me.”

Ieyasu’s brows furrow. Telling Mitsuhide anything is dangerous because that information would find its way to the public by the end of the day. Not to say that Mitsuhide likes gossip, but he has a certain flare for finding out information that is meant to be kept secret.

“You know if you don’t tell me, I’ll just start assuming things.”

“Fine, assume things.”

“Mitsunari.”

“Absolutely not!” Ieyasu stands up abruptly, chair scraping against the ground. The other students in the classroom look up at him, pausing their conversations at the loud noise. Like a sad pup, Ieyasu sits back down quickly and pulls his scarf over his nose. “Stop assuming things, it’s troublesome.”

Mitsuhide spins the book around to get a better look at the open pages. “Hearts? I don’t suppose this is for our friend that you make puppy dog eyes at?”

Ieyasu can’t stop the blush from spreading across his cheeks, so he only lifts the scarf higher, but Mitushide has already received his confirmation. He slips down into his chair and tries to hide from the world, but Mitsuhide reaches to hoist him up by the scruff of his collar. “So it is…” The corners of his lips curl into a sly smirk and Mitsuhide sets the bottle down on the book. “How interesting. Shall I invite her over?”

Ieyasu steps on Mitsuhide’s foot, making him reel back. He proceeds to flick the plastic off of his book so that it clatters to the floor and rolls away, stopping only at a desk a few rows down.

“Mai, would you mind getting that? Ieyasu feels the need to abuse my breakfast.”

He looks up and realizes that she’s entered the room to witness his mild outburst. The anger fades from his mind, replaced with shame instead. Mai reaches down to pick up the bottle before she tosses it at Mitsuhide.

“What did you do, Mitsuhide?”

He catches it with a single hand. “Me?! I did nothing wrong,” he laments, bowing at the waist.

Ieyasu takes the opportunity to close the book quickly, and manages to do so just before Mitsuhide gets any ideas that would expose Ieyasu. He sticks his tongue out at his white haired friend and tucks the book under the colored paper he plans to use to make the origami.

“Guilty people always say that when they’ve done something, Mitsuhide. Are you bullying Ieyasu again?” Mai brushes her hair back, and the light filtering through the blinds catches on her earrings. They’re little star studs, smaller than the nail of his pinkie finger. Mai is always looking out of the window during class like she’s searching for something, perhaps a flicker of light against the blue sky to remind her that, indeed, the stars are still there.

When he watches her admire the sky, he thinks that Mai sees herself as a star. A single unit in an endless sea of twinkling lights emerging only at night. She claims she does best at night anyways, like she’s nocturnal when she shouldn’t be.

But she’s more than a simple star – she’s the sun.

“Ieyasu and I are only discussing this year’s club selection! He wants to try–”

“Archery. I’ll be doing archery this year.”

“That’s right! We ran into each other over the summer when I came to help organize the library. Do you think you’ll aim for an officer’s position next year?” Mai sits on the windowsill and tips her head back to lean against the glass.

Ieyasu reaches up and catches a stray lock of blonde hair to rub between his fingers. “We’ll see.”

Mitsuhide clears his throat. “Next year is so far away. However, Valentine’s Day is approaching…” He turns to Mai, cunning smirk flashing across his lips. “What shall I get you this year?”

Mai waves her hands, insisting there is no need, but Ieyasu has already focused his attention to the hair he’s holding. The sound of Mitushide’s voice fades, drowned by the overwhelming urge to get up and leave them. He can’t do that though, not without Mai asking him what is wrong. She cares too much, and he doesn’t want to worry her with that.

Instead, he slouches at his desk and looks at the whiteboard, rereading notes from class to distract himself.

“Maybe some chocolate?”

“Mitsuhide, no!” Mai says with a laugh. “Maybe you should get Ieyasu something.”

“The only thing he could give me is an hour of silence.” Ieyasu looks up at Mitsuhide. “Do you think you can manage?”

He covers his heart. “You wound me!”

“I doubt it,” Ieyasu snuffs, glancing at Mai. Her eyes sparkle, but he looks away quickly. You don’t look at the sun directly, after all.

“Anyways, Ieyasu, we’ll head down for lunch now. Are you staying here?”

He hesitates, weighing the options. “I… have to do some work.”

Mai nods understandingly and stands up, bookbag in hand. “Then we’ll see you later! Good luck!” Her hair sways at the same pace as the edge of her skirt as she walks. Ieyasu watches the two leave in silence. He hadn’t even realized that the other students also left, probably during their banter, but Ieyasu was too absorbed in the conversation to notice.

What bothers him is that the smile on her face doesn’t fade, and Ieyasu knows that it remains there even when she and Mitsuhide turn the corner.

When he’s sure that they are out of earshot, Ieyasu’s heart seizes and his throat contracts. Oxygen isn’t reaching his brain, sending his mind to speed through a dark array of thoughts. It weighs him down, the feeling of being left out, especially from something– someone– he so desperately wants to be a part of.

There’s no one left in the classroom, meaning Ieyasu is inevitably alone again. Despite this, he doesn’t feel safe to cry. He has no right to cry for something he could have prevented, so instead, Ieyasu lets himself wallow, the muscles in his cheeks twitching angrily before the sensation strangles his lungs. Ieyasu inhales sharply, over and over, forgetting to exhale because breathing out would mean he’d start properly crying.

He looks up.

The tears would ruin the paper, and he needs them for Mai.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Ieyasu never got around to finishing his physics homework, and now it’s come for him, at eleven pm the day before it is due. He scratches his nose, but no miracle manifests, and he still doesn’t know how to solve the problem. Mai’s drawing is more of a distraction than an aid.

He palms his phone, turning it over until he has the courage to message her and ask for help. Would Mai even be awake at this time? He could message Hideyoshi, who, without a doubt, would be up at the moment and could help him with anything. Instead, Ieyasu rewords his text to Mai at least a handful of times, and he scoffs at himself. It’s harder to talk to Mai than it is to solve his homework. In fact, Ieyasu would rather solve hundreds of density and pressure problems than try to talk to Mai.

Ieyasu doesn’t really think that.

The bags under his eyes feel heavier than usual. Ieyasu stares at his phone for too long when he’s supposed to be sleeping, and he always gets scolded for it. So now, he turns the phone upside down and sets it on the edge of his desk, trying to convince himself that he’s not waiting desperately to see if she’ll reply.

Clicking the desk light out, Ieyasu closes his eyes and rubs the sleep away from his mind. When he sits up, instead of seeing his reflection, Ieyasu looks beyond the glass and up at the sky. His attention goes to the half moon hanging in the sky, its white splendor radiating outwards and illuminating the city.

If Mai is the sun, then Ieyasu is the moon.

He flourishes in her light and follows her path. In fact, he tends to follow her often. Ieyasu leaves his house at the exact right moment that he’ll pass in front of hers just as she is heading out. When they walk together, Ieyasu paces himself with the slightest delay so she walks first. He looks for her during lunch, and just seeing her is enough to make him feel better.

Ieyasu turns the lamp back on and spins his chair around so that he can pull the origami book out of his bag. Hearts are obviously a favorite, considering the state the pages are in, but Ieyasu considers something else instead.

It’s easier to find the pages for how to fold stars.

Actually, he flips right to it.

As Ieyasu reads the instructions, his phone vibrates. He reaches for it too quickly, but then hesitates to reply, not wanting to make it appear like he had been waiting for her (although he very much was). Mai should be sleeping at this time, but she’s taking the chance to help Ieyasu.

Did you get a pressure of 1.02 x 105 Pa?

yes! do you need help with the others? theyre about the same just dont get fooled by the last one, you need to solve for the mass by using density and volume

Ok Thank you

Ieyasu’s fingers hover over the keys.

Why are you awake?

i always stay up late its a bad habit

Sleep. Goodnight

night yasu

He waits to see if Mai says anything more, and when she doesn’t, he closes his phone and sets it down. Strumming his fingers on the page, Ieyasu reads over the instructions for folding a paper star.

Cut A4/Letter notebook into strips about a centimeter wide. One strip will become a star, so collect as many strips as needed.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Ieyasu has never felt so confident about a test before.

Albeit, he struggled through the bonus problem, Ieyasu had come out of the other side successfully. Nobunaga complains about using the wrong density for the second question, and Mitsunari tries to console him, explaining he might get partial credit for having the right process.

“Did you see Mai turned it in first? Either she knew exactly what she was doing, or had no clue,” Masamune jokes with a laugh.

“You only say that because you failed.”

“Ah, I did.” Masamune rubs the back of his neck. “I should have studied more…”

Mitsuhide returns to the topic of Mai. “And she asked for permission to leave the classroom. I wonder what she could be…” He wanders towards the door, but Hideyoshi pulls him back.

“You’re not going anywhere! We have to finish the signs for the club fair now.”

“Can I make a sign petitioning your dictatorship? I thought Nobunaga was the president. He should make the signs.”

Hideyoshi grips both Mitsuhide's and Nobunaga’s wrists. “We’re all going to finish the signs. I’m not spending another moment suffering alone with the glitter glue. The two of you are coming with me whether you like it or not.” The trio marches to the hallway, and their protests can be heard echoing through the building.

Mitsunari turns to Ieyasu. “Would you like to–”

“Not now, Mitsunari.”

“Maybe tomorrow?!” Mitsunari calls after Ieyasu as he runs for the door.

Ieyasu chases his intuition and clamours up the metal stairs, bookbag hitting him with every step. He holds onto the railing to keep from falling, how embarrassing would that be if he tumbled back down? Mai is there, on the roof, and would surely hear him if he fell.

His foot catches in the step, but he picks himself up quickly.

Ieyasu must have jinxed it.

The door is partially open, letting sunlight into the stairwell. Stopping before the top step, Ieyasu watches the dust float through the golden rays. It reminds him of Mai’s hair when they walk to school together. How the morning sun crowns her with a halo of light.

Pushing it open, Ieyasu apricates, absorbing the warmth of the sun. It blinds him for a moment, but his eyes adjust.

And then there’s Mai.

She’s standing, leaning against the chain link fence and humming softly to herself. Ieyasu can hear her loud and clear, as though she were standing right next to him, because of the metal ac unit that picks up the vibrations of her song. Upon hearing the sound of the door, Mai looks back and smiles at Ieyasu.

“Did the test go well?”

Her voice is so warm, warmer than the sun itself.

“Yes. I got the bonus.”

Mai turns to face Ieyasu with an open stance. “That’s great! You remembered to draw diagrams?” She brushes her hair back and steps off of the edge to walk towards the bench. Patting the empty spot next to her, she coaxes Ieyasu over. “I think I missed one of the multiple choice problems.”

Ieyasu sits on the edge of the bench gleefully. “Don’t say that… you did fine.”

A silence falls over them, save for the cicada’s song from below. He doesn’t mind it though: Ieyasu likes just being there with Mai, and without anyone else. Leaning back, Ieyasu squints against the bright light, sunspots dotting his vision, but then he looks back at the weeds sticking up through cracks in the cement.

“Ieyasu?”

“Hm?”

Mai kicks her feet back and forth. “You had to consider what wasn’t there. In the bonus problem.”

He looks at her from the corner of his eye.

“Like, you had to do unit analysis to find what you needed to get the pressure. There were no instructions as to how to find it otherwise.”

Ieyasu nods. “I was worried I wasn’t doing it right.”

“There are a lot of things like that though… things hidden until the right moment.”

Mai tends to go off on tangents like this, but Ieyasu finds it endearing. He listens intently to her, scooting the slightest bit closer to her. At any other moment, Ieyasu would have feared their proximity, but now, boosted with the confidence of the test results, he uses it as fuel.

“Like the stars. They’re always there, even if you don’t see them.” She raises her hand to reach upward. “Sometimes I imagine just taking a jar and running it through the sky, scooping up as many stars as I can. So I can have them near me at all times.”

I believe that. I look at you and see the world, even if it’s not really there. Can you feel that my heart is pounding for you? I can’t voice it, but it’s there. Just like the stars you love.

Ieyasu and Mai look directly at each other. He knows he should avert his gaze, but her eyes are wide with wonder and it’s almost like she understands.

Even though you, the sun, are too far from the stars, I’ll get them for you.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

The origami book is long overdue for the library, but Ieyasu keeps it an extra week, determined to finish making the stars. His fingertips are numb from repeating the same motions, and there is a cramp in his palm that aches. He’s been working at this for at least an hour and now has an army of them.

He takes one of them, holding it gently between his fingertips, his thoughts drifting to Mai. Ieyasu hopes she’ll like his gift.

As he gets up to walk downstairs, Ieyasu smiles at the thought of her. He thinks of her tiny earrings and how they perfectly match the paper ones he’s made. There’s a wish tucked away in each little star. A paragraph at the bottom of the folding diagram explains that one hundred stars is a lucky occurence in certain cultures, but Ieyasu likes the notion that he’s given each individual origami a sliver of his feelings for Mai.

The house is empty as usual, leaving Ieyasu to hunt for a jar on his own. There should be some in the pantry… but they are filled with jam. Ieyasu steps on his tiptoes, stretching his arm to reach one of them. Upon successfully doing so, he transfers the contents into a small reusable bento instead, making a mental note to eat some of it later.

A drop of jam hangs off the edge of the jar, so Ieyasu passes a digit over it. It’s sweet and reminds him of summer. He rinses out the container carefully, even scratching his nail against dried plum skin to flush it out.

This past summer, Ieyasu went to school nearly every day to practice his archery skills. He still has calluses between his thumb and index finger from the string snapping against his skin. It was hard work, and the heat made it nearly unbearable. The targets stayed outside and had to be parallel to the school to avoid accidents. (It happened in the past, the current president warned Ieyasu, that someone shot an arrow directly through the third floor window and nearly hit someone.)

He remembers knocking the bow into place, focusing on the center of the target, drawing back. His muscles ached from repeating the motion hundreds of times without actually letting go of the arrow. During that time, conditioning was Ieyasu’s least favorite part of archery, next to the blisters that always formed on his fingertips.

It was a cloudy day too, the one in question that he’s thinking about now. Rain fell in some part of the city, but not directly overhead. Ieyasu wanted to make the shot – just one shot – before calling it a day and packing things so they would not get wet.

Ieyasu swallowed, inhaled, and let go of the bow. The hollow thud of the tip burying into the center circle made the corners of his lips twitch up into a smile. And then, the sky seemed to lighten, just as someone started to clap behind him.

Mai waved at Ieyasu from across the courtyard. She shouted something, but thunder drowned out her voice. It did not stop Ieyasu from seeing her bright face. Then, he didn’t know her name: all he knew was that she looked beautiful under the gold spotlight poking through the clouds.

Now, Ieyasu rips a few paper towels to dry the interior the best he can.

A grin flickers across his features for a moment before he returns upstairs. Scooping handfuls of the stars, Ieyasu lets them trickle between his fingers and fall into the jar. He made exactly one hundred of them, and they fit perfectly. In fact, the thick glass even makes it twinkle in certain lighting.

He sets it in the middle of his desk to screw on the lid before resting his chin on his arm to admire it.

Maybe one of the wishes will come true.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Ieyasu clutches the jar close to his chest but does his best to not fold the ribbon. It took him nearly as long to tie the bow as it did to make the stars. Really, he doesn’t want anyone to see it, and by some grace, most people have already left the building.

Poking his head into the classroom, he checks to see if Mai is at her seat. Love hearts are strung at every corner: dripping from the board, taped to desks, and tucked behind doors. In previous years, Ieyasu really despised the decorations, thinking they were too imposing, but now, he doesn’t mind them as much.

There is no one in the classroom, as Ieyasu guessed, so she must be on the roof.

Just like before, Ieyasu stumbles up the stairs to the top of the building, and again he hesitates, admiring the golden haze of light slipping in through the crack. He runs his fingers through his hair, pulling strands to lay flat, even though they always do the opposite of what he wants.

With his palm gripping the handle, Ieyasu tries to think of something witty to say to Mai when he presents her the jar. Something about making a wish? Would that be too obvious… But the more Ieyasu thinks about it, the more worried he gets, so, on impulse, Ieyasu pushes the door open, stepping into the light.

But it blinds him.

It hurts more than last time he came to the roof.

Likely because, when his vision comes to, Ieyasu’s eyes fall on Mai and Mitsuhide. They’re sitting conveniently with their backs to him, so he’s the unwanted third to their pair. Mai accepts a heart shaped box from Mitsuhide, presumably filled with too-sweet chocolates that would give her cavities. Their fingers brush against each other when she takes it.

Why did she take it?

Ieyasu shakes his head, hoping that the dream will fade with it.

It doesn’t though, meaning this is some sick reality he’s being forced to witness. Ieyasu’s stomach churns, and the jar feels heavier suddenly, like it’s weighing him down.

He hears Mai’s wonderful voice as she laughs, but it’s followed by Mitushide’s deep voice telling her something that makes her blush. Ieyasu knows she’s smiling, he doesn’t have to see her to be sure of it.

They haven’t seen him, they’re too busy enjoying themselves. It doesn’t matter how far they’re sitting from each other, Ieyasu has already made up his mind to leave. He doesn’t remember closing the door behind him, and for all he knows, they could have chased after him and Ieyasu would not have realized.

He throws one foot in front of the other as quickly as possible, letting the haze in his mind guide him without question.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

He regrets not throwing the jar at Mitsuhide. Maybe it would have shattered, sending pathetic paper stars everywhere to blind him. And in the confusion, Ieyasu could have taken Mai’s hand and led her away, saving her from him.

That would not have been very proactive, at second thought, but anything is better than looking at the jar only to feel a burning sensation bubbling in his lungs. It claws at the back of his throat, and every time Ieyasu tries to swallow, he chokes on a lump.

If he threw it out of the window, would it make it to space? Perhaps then, the stars would have a better chance of doing their job.

Defeated, Ieyasu tucks his head into his arms and tries to calm his breathing. Hideyoshi had been sending him messages at the hour, but he failed to reply to any of them. There wasn’t a lick of energy in his body to fuel him to move. Despite the fact that his phone was only a few centimeters away, Ieyasu ignored everything.

If Mai is the sun, then Mitsuhide is a wave.

A wave in the middle of the ocean, tall and mysterious, ever changing and turbulent. Although the sun may know his calm facade, because he acts complacent and innocent in her presence, at night, the ocean churns madly. He accomplishes unimaginable feats, swallowing anything in his path. He’s reaching up to her with every crashing surge that comes down.

And the moon can only watch.

What could the moon offer the sun when he takes from her light?

Ieyasu bites the inside of his mouth and kicks his legs back and forth. His heart sinks to the depths of his chest. He must have made some mistake, put only ninety-nine stars in the jar, and that’s why it didn’t work. There’s no other explanation than he was too late.

Picking his head up, Ieyasu looks through the window and sighs. It’s a new moon, and the land is darker than usual. He supposes that there is a sense of serenity without the big ball of silver plastered against the sky.

He frowns suddenly and straightens his posture.

The moon is no thief – the sun shares its light. Furthermore, both are considered celestial bodies. No matter how hard a single wave tries to touch the heavens, it will never make it. Does that mean Ieyasu and Mai...

Without thinking too much about it, Ieyasu picks up his phone and types a text. He doesn’t linger on it, but sends it right away.

Are you free to meet up tomorrow?

Ieyasu flips his mobile so the screen is facing down, pretending like he isn’t waiting for her reply. He pulls the tag of the jar gently, trying to smooth out the crease in the paper. It bends back into place, but the phone chimes before he can try again.

It makes him smile, her text.

Leaning back in his chair, Ieyasu looks again at the night sky. It’s a vast blanket of darkness, save for the hopeful flickers of white and gold. There’s no moon tonight, just the stars. It makes him feel less lonely.

And the stars will always be there, even if Ieyasu can’t see them.

🌟 🌟 🌟

#ikesen #ikesen ieyasu #Ieyasu Tokugawa #ikemen sengoku #ieyasu x mai #cybird #otome #valentines day

71 notes · View notes

meganshinsou-tm · 5 years

Text

Crimson|Ink. (m)

↳ chapter twenty: your betrayal

❧ genre: tattoo-shop/hitmen au | tattoo artist/hitman kirishima

❧ fic warning: major character(s) death; happy ending

❧ chapter warnings: throwing up/bile, minor blood, mentions of drugs/drug dealing

❧ chapter song: Your Betrayal by Bullet For My Valentine

♬crimson|ink playlist | ♧ character profiles

[multi-chap masterlist] [previous chapter - next chapter]

Dabi’s booted foot kicked open the door to his office as he shucked off fresh blood from his hands before reaching into his pocket for a cigarette. He mumbled to himself with annoyance while placing one of the cancerous sticks between his lips and kicking over the small wastebasket that sat beside his worn-out desk. The sound of bottles clinking and rolling around the floor rang throughout the room when they spilled from the container and he plopped down on the desk chair.

“Fuckers - think they can run shit behind my back,” Dabi grumbled and kicked his feet up.

Igniting a small flame with his palm, the man lit his cigarette. Lips wrapping around it as he puffed it to life and finally took in a lungful of nicotine. With a deep and long inhale, Dabi deflated into the cushioned chair and exhaled, feeling his rage simmering down. Running a bloody hand through his black hair, he let his head fall back and rest, his blue eyes closed for a moment and tried to not set his entire office ablaze.

The last thing he wanted to do today was exhaust his energy on idiotic bullshit but on rare occasions, not even Dabi gets what he wants. That fact had been proven to be annoyingly true a lot lately.

To him it felt like more and more the past few months, his own pushers weren’t taking him seriously. Where they got the idea that they could screw him over without any consequences was beyond him. It was very clear that Dabi saw everyone around him as expendable, it was also clear that he was a raving lunatic who would cremate whatever he pleased without a single shred of remorse. The fact that some of his subordinates even had the balls to think otherwise made Dabi’s blood boil. Nothing pissed him off more than disobedience, especially when it came to his products, his livelihood.

So needless to say, when he found out a small group of his own workers were using his very own product to run and make cash for themselves like a couple of dumbasses, he didn’t have any second thoughts about teaching them a lesson. Once that lesson was learned and they were crying, begging for his forgiveness, covered in charred blistering skin with a few less fingers, toes and teeth to begin with, Dabi only laughed before disintegrating them into nothing but ashes at his feet.

All of that took energy, energy he didn’t have, and it was fair to say that all of this put Dabi in a worse mood than usual. And without you there now for him to take all that frustration out on, Dabi was on edge.

Sure he could torture anyone he wanted, but he didn’t get the pleasuring satisfaction from it like he did when it was you he was torturing. He missed those doe eyes looking back at him, full of big fat tears and unwavering fear but also unconditional blind love. Dabi craved to have those broken and shattered three words spoken back to him as he had his way with the thing most precious to him.

His angel.

The more he thought of you and the lack of your presence around him, the more pissed off and impatient Dabi got. It had been nearly a week since he called that shop you now hid behind, waiting for some sort of news. Of course, Dabi didn’t expect any of the tattooed men to really kill you, he hoped to drive a wedge between the trust that was built there, to cause the small crack that would eventually lead to a massive break and get you back in his grasp. But it was taking too long, way too long.

Dabi flicked his now burned up cigarette across the room, gritting his teeth.

He should’ve just grabbed your ass when he had the chance. He should’ve killed that red-headed fucker that you clung too while walking down the street. But no, for some reason Dabi wanted to play games because he was used to things going his way of course but once again, that wasn’t happening for him lately. The only thing that would bring the likes of a smile to his face was knowing how branded you were, how you would never be able to truly get rid of him. He relished in knowing that every time you looked at yourself, or that he looked at you, you both knew who you belonged to.

Before Dabi could continue to think, his phone started to ring. His eyes scanned the caller ID and he answered with impatience.

“About fucking time, I was beginning to think you were slacking on me.”

“I - I’m sorry sir, it’s just been harder now to get an eye on her and the source has been out of town until recently.”

“Shut up. Anything new?”

“Well as you suspected they didn’t take it, she’s still alive obviously. The thing is, now they’re always around her, she’s very well protected at all times and she hasn’t been back to her own place at all. I’m positive she’s staying with the red-head now. They even have his place on lockdown, someone is always around and watching.”

Dabi chuckled and shook his head. He expected this. It was a major annoyance and hindrance for him but it wasn’t going to stop him from getting to you, not in the least. He sighed calmly and sat up in his chair before replying.

“That source, when do you see them again?”

“Tonight.”

“Perfect,” he smiled wickedly and stood to his feet, “Bring em in tonight, I’m getting fucking impatient here and I’m done with playing games.”

“Kami I’m walking into work right now, I’ll text you okay?”

A pout could literally be heard through the speaker and it made Hitoshi chuckle and roll his eyes.

“You’re hopeless you know that, look I’m gonna see you again in a few more days so stop pouting!”

“I’m not pouting …” Denki replied with a whimper.

“Yeah and my hair isn’t fucking purple,” Hitoshi grinned as he walked into the bar he worked at, resting the phone on his shoulder so he could remove his jacket. “You’re so needy, you’re lucky you’re cute. Now I have to go, I’ll text you - promise!”

“You’re lucky I’m so easy!”

“I wouldn’t sound too proud of that if I were you Kami.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean. Ugh - I gotta go anyway and make a run with Lil’Mama. So I’ll talk to you soon.”

Hitoshi nodded and placed a hand on the bar top, “Okay, please be careful and safe, both of you.”

Denki awed into the speaker, probably smiling.

“Don’t worry Toshi, nothing is going to happen to her, I’ll slice and dice a motherfucker for this girl, she’s in good hands with me! Now be a good boy and get to work, bye!”

After hanging up Hitoshi smirked at his phone and sighed. He placed the device in the back pocket of his jeans and went to clock in, running a hand through his unruly locks. The door opened and closed as he was walking back to the front of the bar, making him look to see who it was and smiling.

“Hey Kage, long time no see! Ready for work?”

The silver haired male nodded with a friendly smile and pat Hitoshi’s back when they passed each other.

“Ready as I’ll ever be. How was your trip?”

“Good, just hung-out with some friends and took it easy, needed a little break. Hope it wasn’t too busy without me here.”

Kage shook his head and shrugged, “Nah man it was fine, no worries! But hey, we need to catch up, wanna chill after we close up tonight?”

Hitoshi nodded, agreeing with his pal before getting back behind the bar and setting up for the night. Soon Kage joined him and they made sure glasses were clean and ready, Hitoshi made sure there were full bottles of every kind of liquor lining the shelves and the bartop itself was clean. He was thankful his first night back at work after a week is with Kage, they always work well together and the nights go by without any problems when it’s them.

Kage actually started working at the bar maybe six to seven months ago after moving to the area. He and Hitoshi hit it off well, he was laid-back and carefree, a hard worker. It didn’t take long for the two of them to become friends and hang out every now and then after their shifts together. Once in awhile Hitoshi would catch him in town and they would grab something to eat together.

Any time Hitoshi needed off to go to see you in the next town over, Kage was always happy to help him out and cover for him. Hitoshi wasn’t proud to say that Kage could drink him under the table in no time and almost always ended up having to tote the hulking purple-haired man back to his own home. Any time they drank together was fun but always ended in a major headache and hangover from hell the next day for Hitoshi.

The two men managed to finish setting up just in time when a wave of people started to crowd into the bar out of nowhere, kicking off their shift with a bang.

Back and forth Hitoshi went, pouring drink after drink, taking a few shots here and there that were bought for him by happy customers. It wasn’t against the rules and it helped with tips, he just had to pace himself in between. A few hours passed and Hitoshi only had to use his quirk once to avoid a bar fight, other than that the night was good. Him and Kage were holding down the bar, doing tricks here and there to get even more money and good energy. Kage took a small smoke break and came back to relieve Hitoshi and give him his own small break.

With an appreciative smile, Hitoshi ducked out and grabbed a bottle of water before stepping outside for some fresh night air. He propped against the brick wall and took his phone out, chuckling at the numerous messages he had from the small group chat between him, Denki and you. Scrolling through the messages of nonsense and memes, he decided to just video call. Not even a second after ringing, yours and Denki’s faces popped up on his screen, full of smiles as you both waved.

“Toshi!” You both answered in unison.

He smirked and waved with a finger as he held the water bottle.

“Hey, cuties.”

You laughed and looked at Denki, pointing out the pink on his cheeks and earning a nip to your finger. You gasped with offense and Denki smiled, taking you under his arm and holding you close while the three of you chatted.

“How’s work?” Denki asked.

“It’s busy but it’s good. Gotta work my ass off this next week to get you guys some presents since I took off last week.”

“Aww Toshi, you don’t have to get us anything. Speaking of - we’re doing Christmas here at the shop, cooking, hanging out, games! So you have to be here.”

Hitoshi nodded at your demand.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world sweetheart. How are you doing, that jackass keeping you safe?”

“Fuck you troll!”

Hitoshi smirked as he heard Kirishima in the background, he snickered when you flipped the red-head the bird off screen before you were pulled away and no longer visible. The sound of you laughing in the background filled his ears and made him smile, a relieved breath leaving his chest. Denki managed to get kicked in the crossfire of the tickle war going on between you and Kirishima in the background so he moved to a different room, your voice yelling out loud enough that you loved Hitoshi and said goodbye.

“Yes, he’s keeping her safe, we all are. You have nothing to worry about really, she doesn’t want you to worry anyway.”

“I know, but I can’t help it Kami. I feel responsible for her and being nearly two hours away from her at a time like this, with him around and knowing where she is - it’s fucking terrifying, I’m helpless here.”

Denki pouted, his yellow eyes softening and holding nothing but concern for his friend.

“I understand Hitoshi, but we’re gonna find him soon and we’ll deal with him once and for all okay? You’re not helpless here babe, just calling her like you do helps. It helps her not think about that shitty fact for a few moments, makes her forget. And I mean in all honesty ... if you wanted you could totally quit your job and just move down here, I’ll take care of you!”

Hitoshi looked at the screen to see Denki smiling deviously, he laughed and tilted his head.

“Oh yeah? You gonna be my sugar daddy, Denki?”

“What you don’t think I can be?”

“Well going by the other night and the way that you were riding my -”

“Okay okay okay - shut the fuck up!” Denki cut off the cocky purple-haired male as his hand frantically waved on the screen. “So maybe you’re more the daddy here in those terms. What if I gave you all the money and you act like it’s yours, that way I can still be the baby.”

Hitoshi gave a hearty laugh and shook his head.

“You’re something else Denki, what am I gonna do with you?”

Denki blushed and chewed on his lip. Hitoshi watched closely and smiled, placing his thumb on the screen and imagining brushing the pad of it over the soft piece of flesh. So maybe he was a sucker for this horny little freak since you found Kirishima. No one was complaining or shocked though, it was hard not to fall for Denki’s charm and pretty looks. Not even if you were Hitoshi Shinsou.

“Just think about it, okay babe? There’s nothing wrong in letting me take care of you, you can get a job around here, hell even work at the shop, I know you have some drawing skills. And if it helps put your mind and heart at ease to be closer to her, then I won’t hesitate to be your sort of backwards sugar baby.”

“I’ll think about it okay? In the meantime, I gotta get back to work and make more money so I can get you something special for Christmas, since you’re so cute and whatnot.”

At this Denki gleamed and nodded eagerly.

“Okay! Have a good shift handsome, text me later!”

After saying goodbye Hitoshi ended the call. His head leaned back against the wall and he looked up to see just a few stars peeking their way through the clouds.

Maybe moving wouldn’t be so bad. In the beginning, it was only half of his heart that was two hours away, now the other half was there too and it was getting harder and harder for him to be so far away.

Hitoshi pushed off of the wall and downed his bottle of water before tossing it into the trash can and returning back to work. For the rest of the night his shift went smoothly and finally it came to a close. Kage sighed and leaned against the entrance door of the bar after the last customer walked out at 2am and it was locked. Hitoshi groaned as he stretched his arms up high above his head and rubbed his back.

“Getting old there Shinsou?” Kage chuckled, rubbing his neck.

Hitoshi smirked and shrugged. “Guess so, maybe I should start taking some multivitamins or something. Let’s get this place cleaned up so we can take it easy!”

With a smile, Kage nodded and the two worked together in cleaning glasses, drink hoses, counter-tops and such. Hitoshi counted down the register and put away the loose change, divided the tip money evenly between him and Kage. Once everything was done, the two grabbed a few drinks of their own and got comfortable on the other side of the bar. The perks to working where they did was the free booze, as long as it wasn’t any of the more expensive shit and they didn’t get too hammered at work of course.

The silver-haired male handed Hitoshi a shot before pouring himself one, with a smile they both downed them and hissed at the burn of the liquor. Hitoshi chased it down with a swig of beer and sighed.

“So,” Kage started, after drinking his own beer, his matching silver eyes glistened when they looked at Hitoshi, “I see (Y/N) is still alive, yeah? Dabi’s not happy about that.”

Hitoshi quirked a brow, body going stiff and cold as he looked at Kage, his purple eyes narrowing at the guy. He was smirking at him and it wasn’t anywhere near friendly. The last thing Hitoshi hears before blacking out is the sound of his bottle slipping from his fingers and shattering on the floor.

Purple eyes slowly fluttered open, a tired and weak grunt leaving Hitoshi’s chest as his head hung low. It was pitch black wherever he was, eyes straining in the dark to try and make out shapes. There was a numb tingling in his arms and Hitoshi went to move them, only to realize that he couldn’t.

In fact, he couldn’t move at all; not his arms, his legs, and suddenly he realized that he couldn’t even move his own fucking jaw. Something was stuffed inside his mouth. A gag?

Panic started to flood Hitoshi’s system, his body trying to move, trying to budge. His breath began to grow shallow and his hands began to tingle - he couldn’t see shit. Hell, he could barely fucking breathe. Where the fuck was he?

“Finally wake up, sleeping beauty?”

Hitoshi’s head whipped in the direction of the familiar voice, wincing when his vision was suddenly being flooded with light. The sound of footsteps drew closer to him, looking at the ground he saw four different pairs of feet before looking up. Standing in front of him was Dabi, a blonde with gray-blue eyes and a scar splitting the middle of his forehead, an older male with gray hair that was smoking and had round eyeglasses and last but not least - Kage.

Hitoshi zeroed in on his coworker, eyes widening in his panicked state. A boulder dropped hard in his gut as he looked at his friend, trying to speak but his words not leaving past the gag in his mouth. Kage didn’t seem to be here against his will like he was, in fact he looked rather calm and satisfied. His friend watched him curiously as bile began to crawl up his esophagus.

“Must be hard to breathe huh?” Dabi finally spoke, breaking Hitoshi’s focus on Kage and bringing it to himself.

Purple brows furrowed, his panic making its way into a sudden burst of rage.

Hitoshi tried to lunge at Dabi, getting nowhere at all due to his bounds and the two strangers holding his chair back. Out of nowhere, Hitoshi felt something cold press to his temple, he looked from the corner of his eye and saw the oldest male standing next to him, grinning a smile with missing front teeth as he held a gun to Hitoshi’s head. Immediately he froze, not daring to try and move again. His purple eyes burn in loathing at Dabi, however, breathing heavily as he tugged at his bonds once more.

“Hitoshi, meet Jin and Giran, you already know Kage right?”

Is he fucking serious? Does he expect Hitoshi to reply?

He sends Kage a seething glare before turning his attention back to the man in front of him. Dabi chuckled before he looked at Giran and back at the bound man, rubbing the side of his neck with a sigh.

“Oh yeah the gag. Well I could’ve done a lot worse, like knocking your teeth down your fucking throat, cutting out your tongue, sewing your mouth shut, just beating you to a bloody fucking pulp until your lungs filled with blood or collapsed. You have no idea the things I want to do to you, Hitoshi Shinsou,” Dabi’s expression finally slipped from smug to borderline rabid, hand gripping Hitoshi’s hair and yanking his head back roughly. “First, you help that little bitch get away from me and proceed to fuck her like clockwork any time she shook her little ass in your face. You took and touched what’s fucking mine, and one day I’m gonna fucking kill you for it.”

Hitoshi didn’t flinch when Dabi shoved his head back and kicked his chair, making it screech against the floor as it moved back a few inches. The chair nearly fell back before Jin and Giran caught it. Giran held the gun to his temple steady in the process, Kage raising a brow from where he stood against a wall.

The psycho was furious, literally fuming - smoke rose from his body and filled the room with the distinct smell of ash.

“Dabs calm down, you can’t get too worked up and leave a mark on him remember,” Jin spoke, trying to calm his leader.

“I fucking know idiot, I’m calm. Take the fucking gag out, I want him to smart off at least once, dig himself into a deeper hole for the next time I have him.”

“B-Boss, his quirk.”

Dabi growled with annoyance and pushed Jin out of his way, un-doing the gag himself.

“He won’t fucking use it you moron, there’s four of us and one of him, he can’t use it on multiple people and if he is fucking stupid enough to even try, we’ll know and blow his fucking brains out.”

Jin nodded, looking genuinely hurt from Dabi’s scolding. Once the gag was out from between Hitoshi’s jaws, he gasped, taking in lungful after lungful of air. Drool seeped from the corners of his mouth and he managed to wipe it off on his shoulder, groaning and moving his jaw around after to try and get the feeling back into it.

“What the fuck do you want? How did you find me?” Hitoshi growled out, looking up at Dabi from under his purple locks.

Dabi smirked and tossed the gag to the floor, waving off Giran to put his gun down and then motioning for Kage to come over. Kage pushed off from his spot on the wall and took his place next to Dabi, crossing his arms as the stitched man patted his back roughly.

“You fucking know what I want, powder-puff. It’s not rocket science, I’m a fucking drug-lord. I can find anyone I want, except for that little bitch! At least that was the case - until I found you.”

Hitoshi’s inital rage sputtered out, his brows furrowing at the insinuation.

Dabi continued to speak before he gets the chance to respond, “I gotta hand it to you, you did a damn good job at keeping her hidden, even though I had you, it still took me a bit a get her location. That made me realize I needed an inside man - my man Kage here. He got that job working with you, getting on your good side and in the end getting me all the information I needed.”

Hitoshi looked at Kage with confusion, that feeling of bile rising up once more, the guy only shrugged and smirked at him. They couldn’t mean ...

As far as he could remember, Hitoshi had never spoken a word about you to Kage. He never had spoken a word about you to anyone, no one knew you even fucking existed except the guys at the shop of course. Hitoshi trusted no one with knowledge about you, especially not Kage. Sure they were work buddies but that didn’t mean shit. Not once in all their conversations, even drunken ones, did Hitoshi let your name slip from his lips, so no - there was no fucking way Kage had information.

“Whatever he told you is bullshit then, I’ve never said a fucking word about her to him.”

“Not that you remember right?” Dabi questioned with an evil smile. “You see Hitoshi, you aren’t the only one here who can fuck with people’s heads.”

A long finger tapped at Dabi’s temple as he chuckled and watched those purple eyes widen, Hitoshi’s expression going from smug to sheer disbelief. His mouth went dry, he tried to question the two before him about what the fuck they’re talking about. The fear in him breaking through more prominently now.

“Mind Compulsion.” Kage finally spoke up. “It’s my quirk. You see all I have to do is make eye contact with you and you become like a slave to me. You do whatever I want, that also means speaking, I can tell you what to say or get you to tell me something. After it’s all said and done, you have zero memory of it. Those ‘headaches’ you’d get every morning after we’d drink together, that’s the only con really for the victims of my quirk. So long story short, we drink, I use my quirk, you give me information and wake up the next day with any memory of it and thinking you have a hangover.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The sound of Dabi laughing and cackling like a maniac was drowned out by a high pitched ringing in Hitoshi’s ears and his head hung low. If it weren’t for his body being tied to the chair, he would’ve fell to his knees on the cold concrete. Hitoshi couldn’t tell if he was sweating or freezing, everything was numb and his stomach was lurching.

“Give yourself a hand Toshi, you told us exactly where she is.”

Hitoshi couldn’t contain the contents of his stomach anymore; they burned as they made their exit from his system and onto the floor. Dabi quickly jumped back with an amused grin, his crazed hyena laughter ringing deep in the his ears. Dabi stood there, relishing in the breakdown happening right in front of his eyes. How there were tears pouring from amethyst eyes, along with bile dripping from Hitoshi’s mouth and onto his jeans as he hurled everything he had, dry heaving when there’s nothing more to expel. Dabi was pissed that he couldn’t physically hurt Hitoshi right now but god did he forget all about that at the sight of the now broken man. It’s like he could hear his heart shattering, the sobs and retching like music to his ears.

“This is all your fucking fault Shinsou. You should’ve just left her to die, at least it would’ve been more humane than what I have planned for her now. Just imagine what she’ll think when she finds out her own best friend, her own fucking family, is the one that sealed her fate. Now, thanks to this,” Dabi paused and held up Hitoshi’s phone, “We have all the details we need for when we make our next move.”

“Please, j-just leave her alone! If you want someone to fucking play with and kill just to get off, then kill me! She’s too terrified to say anything about you, you fucking psycho, no one is going to come for you if you promise to leave her alone! T-Take me instead please, I’m f-fucking begging you, don’t hurt her anymore Dabi … please.”

Dabi rolled his eyes, tired of listening to the pathetic cries coming from Hitoshi. His booted foot connected with his chest in a hard kick, making his chair fall back. Hitoshi grunted as the air left his now sore lungs from the impact of the fall, his head ringing after being smacked against the ground. Soon there was an agonizing weight on his chest and Dabi crouched down, his foot on his ribs and resting all his weight on it. A cold hand gripped at his jaw harshly, making him hiss when Dabi jerked his head up to lock eyes with each other.

“Don’t worry you piece of shit, you’ll get your wish, no doubt about it, but first I need you one last time. You’re gonna go to that little fucking party and you’re gonna get her alone, those idiots trust you with her life and won’t question when you ask her to go outside together, right into my arms.”

“They’ll fucking kill you. He’ll fucking kill you!” Hitoshi warned through gritted teeth before spitting in Dabi’s face.

He isn’t smiling for long before Dabi placed his opposite hand on Hitoshi’s hip and engulfed it in flames. Ripping a scream from his mouth. The flames don’t last long before Giran and Jin are both pulling Dabi off of Hitoshi.

“Boss stop! You can’t fuck him up too much for it to be questionable when he wakes up!”

Dabi kicked like a child and threw both men off of him. He took a moment before telling Kage to come up with some sort of narrative for the new small sized burn on Hitoshi’s pale skin and walked back over to the man laid out on the floor, his shirt now charred as he breathed heavily from the pain. Dabi was resisting every urge to kick him, to make him cry again. Just the mention of that red-headed fuck had him in a silent rage.

Kirishima is nothing, nothing but a fucking obstacle in his way that can be dealt with easily. That fucker isn’t invincible, none of them are!

After taking a long deep breath, Dabi straightened his clothes and put on a smug smile and towered over Hitoshi, pressing his boot to his cheek.

“Let them fucking try, she’ll be fucking dead before they reach me and then for Christmas, I’ll send each and everyone one of them a very special, very bloody gift.” Dabi grinned, pushing Hitoshi’s face to the side as he turned to walk away and waved, “I’ll make sure to wrap up her heart extra pretty for Mr. Kirishima.”

Before Dabi walked out of the room, he ordered the remaining three men to deal with Hitoshi, for Kage to clean him up and get him back home, making sure to cover up for the burn he so irrationally left. Kage nodded, him, Giran and Jin all bowing as their leader exited.

Hitoshi looked up at the ceiling above him, tears stinging the corners of his eyes again. He was drowning in hopelessness, guilt and shame. He failed to protect one of the most precious things in his life and he had no one to blame but himself. Everything was so fucked up now and Hitoshi cried even harder as he thought about how he won’t have the chance to warn anyone, to try one last time to save you. In no time he’d be waking up in his bed with no memory of this night.

Hitoshi’s jaw clenched and his eyes screwed shut as he shook his head before letting out a shaky defeated breath.

“I’m so sorry (Y/N) … I’m so fucking sorry.”

A series of violent buzzing next to Hitoshi’s head is what wakes him from a dead sleep. His eyes cracked open and immediately he’s groaning from the pounding in his head. His hand searched under the pillows until it grabbed a hold of the ringing phone and he answered without looking at the caller ID.

“Hello.”

“Toshi, did I wake you?”

A sleepy smile grew on Hitoshi’s face at the sound of your voice and he shook his head. The tired man went to roll over and lay on his back, hissing when there was a sudden pain in his side.

“Hey, you okay? Toshi answer me!” You questioned, the concern in your tone thick.

Hitoshi brushed his covers off his torso, brows knitting in confusion at the blistered area of skin on his hip.

“Give me a second kit.”

Removing the phone from his ear, Hitoshi went to his messaging app and saw he had an unread text from Kage. The sound of you clicking your tongue impatiently carried through the speaker and made him smirk as he read the message.

➥ Kage : Hey man, I left some burn ointment in your fridge. You may or may not have gotten a little too wasted last night and thought it would be cool to see if you were flammable or not. Let me know if you need anything else.

A hum left Hitoshi, with a shrug he put the phone back to his ear.

“Sorry, I’m fine sweetheart, just a little hungover. What are you doing calling me so early huh, miss me that much?”

You laughed sarcastically on the other end. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“But you love me.”

“I do love you Hitoshi, very much. But - I was calling to discuss a few gift ideas for Denki with you, I mean only if you wanna know but maybe you don’t need my help at all. I just thought since you were so fucking whipped for him you might wanna go all out for your first Christmas together.”

Hitoshi rolled his eyes and chuckled. He tried to muffle his slightly pained groan when he crawled out of bed and went to head for his fridge.

“Alright kitten, let me hear it.”

109 notes · View notes

rhosyn-du · 4 years

Text

Title: A Wonderful Institution Artist: @bidnezz Pairings: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, various background pairings Word Count: ~53k Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, discrimination against Downworlders, reference to rape, Clave-typical homophobia, implied character death, minor character death Summary: Magnus doesn’t have time for this bullshit. Warlocks are disappearing in New York City—five people in less than three months—and Magnus is determined to find them and protect the rest of his people from whatever took them. He doesn’t have time for politics, and he certainly doesn’t have time for whatever nonsense the Clave is proposing about marrying a Shadowhunter to a Downworlder as part of the new Accords. He doesn’t really have time for a pretty Shadowhunter who’s surprisingly kind to warlock children, either, but, well, he’s always been good at multitasking.

Alec always knew he couldn’t have what he wanted, but he’s spent the nearly four years since the newly-appointed Consul recalled his parents to Idris without explanation making the best of what he can have. When life suddenly offers up almost everything Alec actually wants on a silver platter, he can’t quite bring himself to trust it, especially when it comes with a million caveats and a side of impending disaster. But he knows how to handle disasters, even if the return of the Circle on top of Clave secrets that could destroy the Accords is way beyond the disasters he’s used to fielding. Hope, on the other hand? He doesn’t know what to do with that.

This fic was created for the @malecdiscordserver Mini Bang 2020.

Chapter Six

“Knock knock, big brother,” Izzy said, opening the door to Alec’s office.

Since their parents’ departure hours earlier, Alec had hidden himself in his office, citing the need to fill out all the paperwork required to officially install him as Head of the Institute and to plan a wedding that was apparently happening in less than a week. In reality, he’d gotten almost no paperwork done, as lost in thought as he was, and he’d only considered and then immediately abandoned the idea of texting Magnus about the wedding planning at least a dozen times.

“Come in,” Alec said, sounding just as exhausted as he felt.

“I didn’t realize paperwork could be quite so taxing,” Izzy said, entering the office and shutting the door behind her. “I thought you’d be happy to finally have some recognition that you’ve been running this place for years. Or is this just what wedding planning does to you?”

“I wish that’s all it was.” It wasn’t a decision he needed to think about, not really. There were two people in the Institute he knew without question weren’t working for Valentine, and Jace was too caught up in his new obsession with the redheaded mundane for Alec to trust his judgment at the moment.

“That sounds ominous,” Izzy said, perching on the edge of his desk. “What’s up?”

“Valentine Morgenstern is alive and searching for the Mortal Cup in New York. The Consul believes the Circle may have already infiltrated the Institute.” He considered telling her the rest, about Consul Dieudonné and about their parents, but he was still too angry to talk about it. “We need to keep that last part quiet, because I don’t know who we can trust, but we have to find the Mortal Cup before the Circle does.”

“Then we’d better get to work,” Izzy said. “Do you think this could have anything to do with the Circle members who came after Clary Fray?”

Alec wanted to say no, because the last thing he needed was for Jace to think he’d done the right thing in bringing the girl to the Institute without even consulting Alec first. “I don’t know,” he said instead. “It would be a pretty big coincidence if they’re unrelated, though.”

“Then we should talk to Clary,” Izzy said. “She just woke up. That’s what I was coming to tell you. Jace is with her.”

“What has she said?” Alec demanded. “If she is involved, it’s possible she’s a spy for Valentine.”

“That would be a really complicated way to send a spy,” Izzy pointed out. “And I doubt she learned much while she was unconscious.”

“She still showed up out of nowhere right when we got word the Circle is in New York,” Alec said. “And she was supposedly raised as a mundane, but she can bear runes and use seraph blades? That’s all kinds of suspicious. There’s no such thing as new Shadowhunters.”

“Maybe there is now,” Izzy said with a shrug.

“All right, let’s find out what this not-a-mundane has to say for herself.”

They found Jace and Clary Fray along with yet another mundane in the ops center.

“Why is there another mundane in my Institute?” Alec demanded.

“Please excuse my brother’s lack of manners,” Izzy said, stepping forward. “This is Alec.” She held out her hand to the new mundane. “And I’m Isabelle.”

“Lewis,” the mundane said, looking more than a little dazed. “Simon, Simon Lewis. Two first names. Am I still talking?”

“Unfortunately for all of us, yes,” Alec said. He looked at Jace. “What’s going on here?”

“There was a Circle member outside looking for Clary,” Jace explained, “and the mundane saw. He’s her friend, or whatever.”

“Of course there was,” Alec muttered. If the girl was a Circle spy, this was a good way for Valentine to give her cover, pretending the Circle was after her. If she wasn’t, though, that meant the Circle really did want her, and if the Circle wanted her, then Alec was going to do everything in his power to keep them from getting her. And then there was the matter of what his parents said about Circle members looking in New York for someone who knew the location of the Mortal Cup.

“I need to find my mother,” Clary said. “Jace said you guys could help me.”

“If the Circle really is hunting you,” Alec said, “then our first priority is keeping you out of their hands. Do you know why they’re after you?”

“The thing at our apartment, the demon, it said something about a cup?” Clary answered. “But I don’t know anything about any cup.”

Dammit, dammit, dammit. But this put them one step ahead of Valentine, at least, because they had Clary, and that meant the Circle didn’t. Assuming she was telling the truth.

“And what is this Circle you all keep talking about?” Clary continued. “Why would they want to take my mom?”

“A group of rogue Shadowhunters,” Jace explained. “Almost twenty years ago, a man named Valentine Morgenstern led the Circle in an Uprising to stop the signing of the Accords between the Clave and the Downworld.”

“The Circle didn’t just want to stop the Accords,” Alec added. “They wanted to wipe out the entire Downworld.”

“That’s horrible,” Clary said, “but I still don’t understand what that has to do with me or my mom.”

“The Circle is looking for the Mortal Cup,” Alec said. “And if what that demon said is anything to go by, it sounds like they think you know where it is.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Clary said. “I don’t even know what a Mortal Cup is, let alone where to find it. Why would the Circle think I do?”

“That’s what we have to figure out,” Izzy said, putting a hand on Clary’s shoulder. “But if the Circle wants you and your mom, then we’re going to keep you safe and get her back.”

“I had a dream about my mother,” Clary said, as if suddenly remembering. “But I don’t know if it was an actual dream, or… I have dreams sometimes that I think might actually be memories. I’ve had a bunch recently, some of them with a man who my mother tells to take my memories. And this was like that, but different. I think… I know this sounds crazy, but I think maybe I was seeing my mom as she is now. She was asleep, and there was a man I didn’t recognize. And Dot was there, but she was in chains, and I think she and my mom are in serious trouble. You have to help me find them.”

“A man taking your memories could have been a warlock,” Jace suggested. “They have spells that can take a person’s memories. That might be somewhere to start.”

“For that, we’d have to find the warlock who took her memories,” Alec pointed out. “And if the Circle is looking for her, it could be dangerous to go looking. Especially if the Circle is somehow involved in the recent warlock disappearances.”

“Maybe another warlock could at least tell if it was a warlock who took Clary’s memories,” Izzy said, looking at Alec. “You could ask Magnus.”

“I’m not going to just start asking Magnus for favors,” Alec said. “That would set a bad precedent.”

“Wait, Magnus?” Clary said. “In my dream, my mom called the man who took my memories Magnus.”

Izzy gave Alec a long look, as if to say I told you so.

“Fine,” Alec said. “I’ll talk to Magnus and see if he’s willing to help. But not at,” he checked the time on the nearest screen, “four-thirty in the morning.”

“But who is Magnus?” Clary wanted to know.

“Magnus Bane is the High Warlock of Brooklyn,” Alec said, at the same time Izzy said, “Alec’s fiancé.”

Alec shot his sister a fierce glare.

“Oh,” Clary said, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Um, congratulations?” she offered Alec.

“I’m going to catch a few hours of sleep,” Alec said, ignoring her. “You two, keep the redhead out of trouble and inside the Institute.” He looked at the other mundane. “And do something about that one, while you’re at it.”

Magnus had been surprised but not displeased by the text that he’d gotten a few hours earlier— I need to see you, are you busy? He had, of course, been busy, as he always was these days, but he was able to finish up what he was doing sooner than he’d anticipated, giving him nearly two hours to wait back at the loft to wonder what Alexander wanted.

It was probably about the drastically shortened timeline for the wedding. Magnus hadn’t been pleased at all when he’d received a fire message about that at some ungodly hour of the morning. And what a way to be woken up. He both hoped and feared that with the wedding suddenly impending, Alexander was having second thoughts. It would, of course, cause a bit of a scandal, and might delay the signing of the Accords if one of them were to pull out now, but Magnus was fairly confident that he could smooth things over with the Clave.

He hated that a part of him was disappointed by the prospect.

Magnus was so lost in his thoughts that he jumped when a knock came at the door. He took a moment to straighten his waistcoat before opening the door wide.

“Alexander!” he greeted with a wide smile. Then he took in fact that Alec was very much not alone, and his smile faded into a confused frown. “And friends. This is a surprise.” He stepped back into the loft, gesturing the group inside.

A short, redheaded girl stopped in front of him and glared up into his face. “So you’re the one who stole my memories.”

“Who—” Magnus started, and then recognition hit him. She was older than last time he’d seen her, but there was no mistaking that face, especially not with her chin raised in defiance in a posture so like her mother’s it was uncanny. “Clary Fairchild,” he said. “You’ve grown into a beautiful young woman.”

“Clary Fray,” Clary corrected, and Magnus simply nodded. Jocelyn’s secrets weren’t his to tell.

“Sorry if I gave you the wrong impression when I texted,” Alec said. “We’re here about Clary’s memories. We have reason to believe she might know where the Mortal Cup is, and the Circle is hunting both Clary and the Cup.”

“I had heard something to that effect,” Magnus said. “I hadn’t realized you were involved, Alexander.”

“Can you two catch up later?” Clary asked. “I need my memories back so I can find my mother.” She turned to Magnus. “What will it take for you to give them back to me?”

“I wish I could retrieve your memories,” Magnus said carefully, “but I no longer have them.”

“What?” Clary demanded. “Where are they?”

“I fed them to a memory demon for safekeeping,” Magnus explained.

“And why the hell would you do that?” Jace demanded angrily.

“To protect Clary and the Cup,” Magnus said with forced patience. “If the Circle ever captured me, they could torture Clary’s memories out of me.”

“And if you give them back to her, they can torture them out of her,” Alec said. “It wasn’t a bad plan, but now we need to know where the Cup is so we can keep it safe. So, is there a way to get the memories back?”

“We could summon the demon I fed them to,” Magnus said, “but it would be dangerous. Summoning such a powerful demon could be lethal.”

“I’ll do anything to save my mother,” Clary broke in. “Where is the demon?”

Magnus regarded her for a long moment. He wasn’t sure this was a good idea, and he in no way liked the idea of handing the Mortal Cup back to the Clave, but if there was any Shadowhunter he was willing to trust with it, it was Alec, and he couldn’t find it in his heart to deny Clary’s desperate request. He knew what it was like to lose a mother, and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

“Get your team ready,” he told Alec, then turned to Clary. “Come with me.”

They could use the guest room for the summoning. His office might be better equipped, but Magnus had already started to clear out the guest room in case Alec really did move in, so the space was relatively empty, while his office was most decidedly not.

“A lot of people want the Mortal Cup,” Magnus said as he led Clary into the guest room. Once he was sure the Shadowhunters weren’t paying attention to the conversation, he added, “Don’t trust anyone, especially not the Clave.”

Clary looked at him in surprise. “Don’t trust the Clave? I thought you and Alec were—”

“Alexander is not the Clave,” Magnus interrupted her, and he wondered when exactly he’d come to that conclusion. “But just because I trust him doesn’t mean that you should.”

Clary considered that. “Then why should I trust you?”

“You shouldn’t,” he told her. “Only trust yourself.”

“I don’t understand you,” she said, shaking her head. “You tell me not to trust anyone but myself, but you admit to trusting Alec. If it’s so dangerous for me to trust anyone, wouldn’t the same be true of you? You helped my mother hide the Mortal Cup by taking my memories.”

“Who I do and don’t trust isn’t your concern,” Magnus told her. He picked up the set of chalks he used for drawing sigils and handed it to her. “Let’s get to work.”

Summoning the demon that had Clary’s memories proved both easier and more difficult than Alec expected. Easier, because the danger Magnus had warned of never materialized. More difficult because each of them had to give up a memory of the person they loved most, and the feeling of having given up something that precious but not being able to remember what he’d given up was distinctly unpleasant. Not to mention that the entire process left Clary delirious and barely conscious.

Alec watched Jace hover over Clary on the couch, reflecting on how much more difficult this would have been a year or two earlier. Before he’d taken over the day-to-day operations of running the Institute, before he and Izzy had really grasped that their parents weren’t coming back from Idris, at least not in any kind of permanent sense, he’d thought he was in love with Jace. It had been easy to believe. Jace had been—still was—beautiful and intense and a highly competent Shadowhunter. It was easy to mistake an adolescent crush for love, especially with how close the two of them became as they trained to become parabatai. But then Alec’s parents had gone away, and suddenly he found himself with the responsibility of running an Institute, and effectively acting as a parent figure to Izzy, and he was able to start seeing his infatuation for what it was.

His younger self would have no doubt been jealous of the attention Jace paid to Clary. Now, at least, he only had to worry about his parabatai’s obvious feelings for a girl who was at best someone being hunted by the Circle. He didn’t want to think about what it would do to Jace if Clary turned out to be a Circle spy.

He felt Magnus step up beside him. “You should sit down while Clary recovers from having all those memories dumped back in her mind,” Magnus said. “A summoning like that can take a lot out of you.”

“Shouldn’t you be taking your own advice?” Alec asked, turning to look at him. Magnus somehow didn’t look nearly as drained as the rest of them. It was possible he really was less tired, but Alec suspected it was just his uncanny and deeply unfair ability to look good in any situation.

“I do this kind of thing all the time,” Magnus said with a shrug. “The rest of you aren’t used to it.”

“I’ll sit down if you do,” Alec offered.

“Fine,” Magnus said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “If you insist.”

They made their way over to two empty armchairs in the living room, seated close to one another. Izzy was already seated in one of the other chairs, closer to the couch.

“This gives us the opportunity to talk about the wedding, anyway,” Magnus said as they sat down.

“Do we have to?” Alec asked with a pained face. “I think I’m suddenly feeling that exhaustion you were talking about a minute ago.”

“Alec spent half of last night looking over the Clave’s proposals for the wedding,” Izzy chimed in. It wasn’t exactly true, but he had looked them over briefly, and it felt like he’d done it for hours. “You should have seen his face.”

“Always a lovely sight,” Magnus said, and Alec was too tired to fight the flush in his cheeks.

“What did you want to talk about?” Alec asked, hoping to change the subject from his looks. If it meant talking about the wedding, so be it.

“Mostly that it’s happening so soon,” Magnus said. “When you contacted me earlier, I assumed that’s what you wanted to see me about.”

“I would have contacted you about that,” Alec said, “but I got a little distracted by Clary Fray.”

“Fairchild,” Magnus corrected. “She’ll remember this now, I’m sure, but her name is Clary Fairchild. Her mother is Jocelyn Fairchild.”

“Fairchild is a Shadowhunter name,” Izzy said, and she shot Alec a smug glance.

“Indeed, it is,” Magnus agreed. “Jocelyn was a Shadowhunter. Is a Shadowhunter. She was unfortunate enough to at one time be married to Valentine Morgenstern, and when things got bad during the Uprising, she left him and went into hiding. Even after the Circle was vanquished, she stayed hidden. I don’t think she was ever as confident in Valentine’s death as the Clave was.”

“Even if she thought he was probably dead, she might have been afraid at even a chance he wasn’t,” Izzy said. “If Jocelyn knows where the Mortal Cup is, that could be why she never came out of hiding.”

“Or perhaps she merely wanted to protect her daughter,” Magnus said. “I’m not sure having me take Clary’s memories was the best way to do that, but Jocelyn did seem very concerned for the girl’s safety when she brought her to me.”

“We’d better hope Jocelyn doesn’t know where the Cup is,” Alec said, “because from what Clary saw in her vision, it sounds an awful lot like the Circle has her.”

Magnus frowned. “Clary’s vision? What vision?”

Alec and Izzy gave him a quick rundown of what Clary had told them back at the Institute about her dream that didn’t seem like a dream.

“And she saw Dorothea with them as well?” he asked. “This is bad. Dot stayed with Jocelyn and Clary to protect them. If she’s been taken, as well, then we really are all that’s left to protect Clary from the Circle.”

“Clary did say Jocelyn was sleeping in her vision, though,” Izzy reminded him. “And it seemed like the man was trying to wake her up. Maybe she did something to herself, to keep the Circle from being able to force her to reveal the location of the Cup.”

“Perhaps,” Magnus said. “If so, let’s hope it was nothing permanent. I’d hate to think Clary has gone through all of this to find her mother only for her mother to be unreachable when we finally do find her.”

“I don’t realize this would hurt so much.” Clary’s voice, soft and trembling from where she lay on the couch, was more unsure than Alec had ever heard it. “There’s so much here, and it’s so hard to sort through it all.”

“Take it easy, Biscuit,” Magnus told her, rising to join Jace by the couch. “Don’t push yourself. It’s good that you’re as lucid as you are so quickly. The rest will come in time.”

“I can't—” Clary shook her head. “I can’t remember anything about the Mortal Cup. I’m trying to remember, anything at all my mom said about a cup, but I’m coming up blank.”

“Take your time,” Jace told her.

“I don’t have time!” Clary snapped. “I have to find my mother before something terrible happens to her!”

Jace made a placating gesture, but Alec spoke before he could say anything.

“What about Valentine or the Circle? Do you have any memories of your mother mentioning them?”

“I think,” Clary said slowly. “I think she did mention Valentine. More than once. Never when she knew I could hear, but I remember her talking to Dot. Not enough that I could understand. I wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t realize it was important. But there was another time when she was talking to Luke, and she thought I was asleep and—” She stopped, suddenly pale. “Oh no. No no no.”

“Clary what is it?” Jace asked, resting a hand on her arm.

“It’s all right, Biscuit,” Magnus soothed. “Tell us what you remember.”

“It’s Valentine,” she whispered, looking up at Jace as though he could fix whatever horror she’d discovered in her own memories. “He’s my father.”

Clary looked absolutely crushed, but Magnus nodded like he wasn’t surprised by this information. Which, maybe he wasn’t, Alec reflected. If he’d known this whole time Jocelyn had been married to Valentine, maybe he’d already suspected Clary was Valentine’s daughter.

Alec’s mind was racing. Clary being Valentine’s daughter should have made it more likely she was a Circle spy, but Magnus corroborated her story of lost memories, and Alec didn’t believe for a second that Magnus was working with Valentine. Which meant that the Circle really was hunting Clary, even though it turned out she didn’t know anything about the Mortal Cup. But maybe that didn’t matter to Valentine. Maybe he wanted his daughter as much as he wanted the Cup.

“There’s something else,” Clary said. “Another time I remember Mom talking to Dot about Valentine. Dot said she couldn’t make the potion Mom wanted, that it wasn’t her area of expertise, and Mom said she needed it in case Valentine found us.”

“Jocelyn never asked me for any potion,” Magnus said, frowning.

“Dot said she knew someone who could help, and she mentioned a name.” Clary’s brow creased as she fought to remember. “Ragnor Fell.”

“Ragnor Fell?” Magnus asked, looking affronted. “He’ll ignore my invitations for over a decade, but he’ll do jobs for a Shadowhunter? I see how it is.”

“I don’t really think that’s the most important thing here,” Jace commented.

Magnus threw him a withering look. “Which just goes to show how little you know. But I’ll contact Ragnor and see if he made a potion for Jocelyn. If it was some kind of protection against Valentine or the Circle, it might give us some clue to finding her or the Mortal Cup.”

“Or if we’re lucky, both,” Izzy added.

“We can’t count on luck,” Alec said. “Now that we know who Clary’s mother is, we might be able to find something useful in the Clave’s files.” Or maybe his parents would know something about Jocelyn that could help find her. He wasn’t ready to talk to them again, but if they’d been in the Circle, surely they’d have known Valentine’s wife.

“And Clary will be safer back at the Institute,” Jace said, earning himself a dirty look from Magnus.

Privately, Alec agreed, but he wasn’t about to say it out loud.

“Thank you for your help,” he told Magnus instead. “We wouldn’t have Clary’s memories without you.”

“I’d do a great deal more if it meant keeping the Mortal Cup out of the Circle’s hands,” Magnus said.

“If you’re not too tired from the summoning, would you make us a portal back to the Institute?” Alec asked. “Under the circumstances, it’s the safest way to get Clary there.”

“Alexander,” Magnus said, “a little summoning of a greater demon isn’t enough to keep me from creating a portal.”

“We appreciate it,” Alec said. “And if you send your bill directly to me, I’ll see that it gets paid. I’d rather keep this quiet for now.”

“Of course,” Magus said, as though it were the most reasonable thing in the world that Alec was keeping secrets from other Shadowhunters at his own Institute. “And I’ll contact you as soon as I’ve had a chance to talk to Ragnor.” He paused, eyes flickering away for just a moment in what Alec almost thought might be nervousness. “And maybe we can discuss the wedding then?”

“Yeah,” Alec agreed. “If we don’t talk about it, then the whole thing is just going to be what the Council wants, and I doubt either of us wants them writing our wedding vows.”

Magnus made an exaggerated wince, but he seemed more relaxed. “I shudder to imagine what they might include.”

After portaling back to the Institute, Alec helped Jace get Clary set up in one of the empty rooms. If she was going to be staying at the Institute for a while, it only made sense that she have her own room. Jace offered to stay with her while she continued recovering from having her memories returned, and Alec couldn’t think of any reason to tell him not to that wouldn’t start a fight, so he agreed.

When he returned to his office, Alec was unsurprised to find Izzy leaning against his desk. He closed the door behind him.

“Are you convinced yet that she’s not a spy?” she asked, tone almost teasing.

“Yes,” Alec said, “but that doesn’t mean she’s not trouble.”

“Are you talking about the Circle, or the way Jace looks at her?”

“Both,” Alec said, dropping into his favorite chair. “Plus, you know, that whole thing where she’s Valentine’s daughter.”

“Jace is a big boy,” Izzy said, easily pinpointing what he was most worried about. “He can take care of himself. Besides, you should be happy Jace is interested in someone besides himself for once.”

Alec made a noncommittal noise, not wanting to talk about it any further. Izzy walked over and sat on the arm of his chair, leaning against him in a gesture of support. Alec leaned back, grateful for her presence.

“So,” Izzy said after a few minutes of silence, tapping his leg with the toe of her boot, “Magnus looked nice today.”

“Magnus always looks nice,” Alec said without thinking, then immediately tried to cover it. “I mean, he’s very good at dressing himself.”

Izzy burst out laughing. “He’s very good at dressing himself, really?” Her laughter faded to a soft smile. “It’s okay to think your fiancé is hot, Alec.”

“It’s not like that,” he protested, looking away. “This marriage is about the Accords. That doesn’t change just because the person I’m marrying is Magnus.”

“Doesn’t it?” she asked, and he hated how unsure he was of the honest answer.

“It can’t,” he told her. “Whatever is or isn’t between me and Magnus, it has to be separate from this marriage. I can’t let my feelings jeopardize the Accords.”

Izzy looked like she wanted to argue, but she just leaned over and kissed his temple before standing to leave. “Just don’t forget while you’re busy doing things for everyone else that it’s okay to do things for yourself sometimes.”

Alec didn’t have the heart to tell her he didn’t even know what it meant to do something for himself anymore.

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #fanfic

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writingsofspn · 5 years

Text

Desire - Sam Winchester x Reader

Loosely based on 5x14, ‘My Bloody Valentine.’ Sam and Y/N are cursed with a desire so strong, they might just kill each other.

Warnings: scenes of a sexual nature, Cas being adorable

Y/N = Your Name

this fic is gender neutral:)

——————————

“They ate each other?” Dean asked in absolute disgust. He wrinkled his nose as the coroner told him what had happened the night before. Sam looked equally disturbed as he glanced at the pile of flesh that sat before you guys on the table. You pulled your brows together and turned away from it, feeling slightly sick. You’d seen a lot of things, but this was gross.

“Well, thank you doctor. We’ll contact you if we need anything.” Sam said, folding up the notes and opening the door for you to walk through. You guys headed out of the morgue and made your way to the nearest bar, wanting to forget the pile of flesh you’d just seen.

When you got there, the whole place was decked out in Valentine’s Day decorations. You smiled and looked at Sam.

“Ah, is that today? Happy Valentine’s Day.” You stopped and kissed him quickly, wanting to show him at least some affection because of the day. He smiled at you, chuckling as you guys sat at the bar. You guys had been seated for a while, talking about the case and possible reasons behind it, when a cold gust of wind blew through the bar; making you shiver. You looked around to see who had opened the door. It was shut. You shrugged and turned back to the boys.

Something was wrong. You felt‍...odd. You looked at Sam and an overwhelming sense of desire overcame you. You crossed your legs tight and swallowed hard. Sam seemed to have the same idea, his jaw clenching as he looked at you. Your mind was foggy and all you could think about was Sam, and how that suit was covering far too much and…

“Yo? You guys okay?” Dean snapped his fingers in front of you guys.

“Uh, yeah. We’re fine. You know what Dean? Is it okay if Y/N and I head back to motel room and have some...um...alone time. You know, as it’s Valentine’s Day.” Sam said quickly, barely able to string his sentences together, fidgeting on the bar stool. Dean looked between the two of you.

“Ew. Gross. Just don’t do it on my bed.” Dean grumbled, tossing Sam the keys and heading over to talk to some busty blonde at the other end of the bar.

You guys could barely control yourselves as you entered the motel room. Sam slammed you roughly against the back of the door, bringing your thigh around his waist and gripping it so tightly that there’d probably be a bruise there later. He kissed your lips, your neck, your chest. He sucked along your shoulder as he ripped your shirt, buttons flying everywhere, throwing it to the floor. You guys were ravenous for each other. You knotted your hands in his hair and pulled hard and he moaned in response. He pulled your other leg up around his waist and he gripped the backs of your thighs as you felt his teeth graze your neck.

Suddenly, a moment of clarity seemed to appear.

You’d been ‘infected’, both of you.

It made sense, the sudden feeling of lust and desire. If you didn’t stop this now, you’d end up like the couple who was now a pile of flesh sitting in the coroner’s office. You pulled away quickly, running to the bathroom and locking the door behind you. You heard Sam shout from the other side, his fists banging hard on the door.

“Y/N! What are you doing?” He yelled, still banging against the door. You knew he’d break it down in a few seconds if you didn’t knock some sense into him. Your mind was still filled with desire, and it was taking every ounce of strength you had to not unlock that door and be with Sam. Your mind was hazy as you sat on the floor and leant against the door. You were breathing deeply, your legs crossed tightly as you sat down.

“Sam, don’t...don’t you see? We’ve been infected by whatever that...that couple had last night. If we don’t stop, we’re…we’re going to kill each other.” You breathed, struggling to get the words out. Sam’s fists stopped on the door, and you heard his footsteps back away.

“You’re right. I’ll...I’ll call…” Sam stopped, and you couldn’t hear anything from behind the door. Your head fell forward and you tried to think of anyone or anything other than Sam. The desire was so strong, your cheeks were flushed and you were sweating. You wanted nothing more than to unlock that door, so much so that it felt like you could barely breathe from the thought. Your skin burned at the thought of Sam and you knew you had to do something. You felt as if you were vibrating as you sat in the corner of the bathroom, trying to get as far away from Sam as possible. You pushed your clenched fists to your head and shut your eyes tight. It was almost as if you could smell him, and it was driving you nuts.

————————-

You didn’t know how long you waited, maybe 10 minutes more? It felt like hours, but it wasn’t. You heard Dean bust through the door and haul Sam’s ass out to the car. He came back in and gently knocked on the door, telling you to let him in. You got up, and pulled the lock. He opened the door and sighed at your state. No shirt, hands bound, hair a complete mess. You strained a smile and he told you he’d fix it.

————————

You were staying at a motel on the other side of town, Cas watching over you as Dean was sorting everything out. He watched you fidget on the bed, attempting to focus on what was on the TV.

“What is desire, Y/N?” Cas tilted his head to the side, hands clasped in his lap. You smiled.

“Desire is the...the attraction between two people, Cas. It’s what draws them to one another. Desire can...can come up in all different forms. You can have a sexual desire for someone, or you can just crave to be in someone’s company all the time. Desire is what holds two people together. It’s what keeps people in love and in relationships. It’s so important but….what’s happening right now between Sam and I, it’s too much. Desire can be overwhelming, and Sam and I nearly killed each other last night. Our desire to be with each other just took over and I guess, in theory, the only way to be together forever is to...to die. Whoever is behind this ‘love’ infection is wanting couples to die together, almost sacrifice themselves in the name of love and desire. It’s...it’s disgusting.” You looked at the patterns on the comforter while you spoke. Cas pulled his brows together and breathed in.

“So, desire can be interpreted as a form of love?” He asked curiously, pursing his lips. You swallowed thickly, quite glad for the distraction that Cas was causing. Your mind was still focused on well...doing things. But Cas’s questions seemed to keep your mind at bay for the moment.

“Yeah I guess so. I mean, I think desire is something that leads on from love. Think of love as the roots of a tree, and desire just one of the branches. That’s the best way I can put it.” You shrugged, looking at Cas and smiling. He was silent for a few minutes, tilting his head and thinking about what you said.

“I like your tree metaphors.” Cas said simply.

You grinned and put your head down. Only Cas would have that sort of response to what you just said.

————————

You must have fallen asleep, because you woke up with a start as you heard the door to the motel room close softly.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I thought you might be hungry when you woke up so I went to get some food. I’m sorry I woke you.” Cas said apologetically, handing you the paper bag with some food inside. You looked down and your heart swelled. Cas had obviously placed a blanket on you whilst you were sleeping, and taken your shoes off. You thought about how far he’d come from being that heartless angel to what he was now.

“I thought you might get cold.” He said quietly, sitting down on the bed next to yours.

“Thank you.” You said, gratefully. You began to open the bag of takeout when you suddenly felt something...or more a lack of something.

“Hey Cas? It’s gone. I don’t feel...feel like I did earlier. I feel normal, like I don’t want to...eat my boyfriend.” You laughed, shutting your eyes and throwing your head back; saying a silent thank you to Dean, who must’ve sorted it out.

Before Cas had the chance to reply, Dean opened the door with Sam behind him; arms folded. He strutted into the room, his lips pouting. He had a large gash on his head and a bruised eye.

You rolled your eyes. Drama queen.

“Well. I did it. I sorted the nymphomaniacs out. And I’ll tell ya, it wasn’t easy. The bitch threw me about like a goddamn ragdoll, but you know what? I did it, that’s what matters.” He said triumphantly, hands on hips. You didn’t really listen, getting up off the bed and walking up to Sam, putting your hands to his face and pressing your lips to his. It felt nice to be able to kiss your boyfriend without the urge to tear him to shreds, you had to admit.

“It’s okay, I didn’t want a thank you anyway. It’s not like it wasn’t any trouble, it’s fine. You guys make out, don’t worry.” Dean mocked, folding his arms and rolling his eyes. You and Sam stopped, and both turned.

“Thank you Dean.” You said in unison, going back to what you were doing. You heard Dean mutter something about no gratitude, grab his jacket and head off to the other motel; Cas in tow.

“So how about we pick up where we left off? You know, without wanting to eat each other and stuff.” Sam smirked, his arms pulling tight around your waist.

“Mmhh, maybe I still wanna eat you.” You fake growled, going to bite his neck. He laughed and pulled you guys back towards the bed. You landed with a thud and you stopped for a moment.

“I love you, you know.” You said quietly, fiddling with the collar of his shirt.

“Yeah. I love you too.” He replied, pressing a small kiss to your forehead.

———————-

112 notes · View notes

five-hour-anxiety · 6 years

Text

Valentines Day (and the Events Leading Up to It)

Summary: “Roman, why are you asking me for advice?” “I don’t know! Because normally I would go to Logan, but I clearly cannot for this!” (Or: five times Roman tried to ask Logan out, and the one time he really didn’t.)

Pairing: Logince

Taglist: @zerogettie @spacevirgil @tree4life25@thebiggestnaturaldisaster@pailettehazel@jordandobbertin@thecityofthefireflies @the-fabulous-kimball@azuranightsong @virmillion@erlenmeyertrash @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @the-sanders-sides@punch-you-with-friendship@moonshadowsiren @clovenpinetree@jughead-is-canonically-aroace@aplaceinthevoid @that-random-fandom-girl@zennyo @unring-this-bell @liz-a-bell @vir-gull

Author’s notes: hey what’s up, it’s another collab fic done with @liz-a-bell. Go yell at them too. Also, Deceit is in this one, and falls entirely in the sympathetic category. He just wants to be left alone, Roman, leave him alone.

Can be read on ao3 here!

Virgil:

“Roman, why are you asking me for advice?”

“I don’t know! Because normally I would go to Logan, but I clearly cannot for this!” Roman flopped onto Virgil’s bed as he spoke, whining.

“Okay fine. Let’s see, you could just ask him.” Virgil drawled, holding out ‘could’ for a good four seconds.

“No!” Roman whined, stamping his foot, “It has to be special! This is me you’re talking to!”

“Okay, okay. What about, like, a sampling box of Crofters? You know, instead of a chocolate sampler?”

“Perfect! He’ll love it!”

Attempt One:

Roman thought he was being sneaky. He really did -- but there’s only so much he could do to keep this idea secret. Logan was picky about his jelly, even more so about Crofters. The side liked them all well enough, sure, but he had favorites and therefore only those flavors would be good enough for the box.

Only the best for Logan, after all.

So by the time he had all the flavors chosen, he was sure Logan knew what was going on. As much as he was loath to admit it, Roman was anything but subtle when he had breezed into the logical sides room and asked for the top ten flavors of Crofters.

So it came as a complete surprise when the idea crashed and burned faster than his pile of notebooks from middle school.

“Ah, how thoughtful Roman -- a box of Crofters in honor of our fan club anniversary!”

Roman thought, for just one moment, the air had been punched out of him. He squinted his eyes and tilted his head, hands holding the Crofters sampler lowering down to his waist.

“What?”

“Why this is wonderful Roman! Would you like to join me for a tasting? I could even make some tea to go with it.”

“No, that’s okay. You have fun with it.”

Patton:

“Padre! You’re the heart and I need advice over matters of the heart!” Roman sighed, collapsing into the small couch Patton kept in his room for sleepovers.

“Roman, hey! What can I help you with?” Patton, Roman guessed, must have been taking a nap. He fumbled around for his glasses as he spoke, and his cardigan was wrinkled and creased in odd places. “What kind of heart matters?”

“How do ask I out a… shall we say endearingly dense man?” Roman asked, hands twitching as he resisted the urge to fix Patton’s appearance.

“Hmmm, oh! How about a card? They make cards for everything!”

“Yes, that could work! If I can make the right card it could make everything so much easier!” Roman sprang up, charging towards the door with a new sense of purpose.

“Perfect! So glad I could help kiddo!” Patton laughed, waving as Roman threw the door open and left after dipping down into a bow.

“Well, I’ll see you later Padre, I have a card to make!” He called over his shoulder, already halfway down the hall.

Attempt 2:

“Ah, Logan! Wait just a moment, I have something for you!” Roman huffed, coming to a stop behind the logical side.

“Did you just-”

“Run across the mindscape to find you? Absolutely, this simply could not wait.”

Logan raised an eyebrow as Roman reached into his jacket, pulling out a handmade card. He presented it with a flourish, all but throwing it into Logan’s hands.

“A...card?” Logan asked, holding it between two fingers as glitter fell off it in waves. “Thank you…?”

“Open it, please! I worked so hard on it!”

After shaking the card slightly to get rid of the extra glitter, Logan opened it up and read it.

“Thank you very much, Roman, I appreciate the gift. I’m sure you are aware, given its nature, today is National Give a Card to a Friend day,” Roman’s jaw dropped as Logan spoke, “I regret to inform you that I have failed to procure a card to give you in return, but if you allow me a few hours I’m sure I could come up with a card almost as… lovely… as the one you’ve made?”

“No, that's okay. I appreciate it, but I just wanted to give you something nice, there's no need to reciprocate,” Roman grumbled, turning away. “Have a good day.”

Deceit:

“So you’ve tried twice already and it hasn’t worked?” Deceit sighed, trying and failing to walk away from the creative side.

“Yes, clearly,” Roman huffed, throwing his hands up.

“Well, you could just tell him how you feel.”

“Yes, you’re right, that would never work,” Roman sighed, bangs flying up and off his forehead with the movement. “You’re no help!”

Deceit watched as Roman did an about face and stomped off down the hall, slightly annoyed that Roman misunderstood. Not enough to chase him down and explain, though.

Attempt 3:

Deceit stared down at the trash can, a sigh tearing its way out of his chest. There, clear as day, were two bouquets -- one of red roses and the other a mish-mash of flowers that, if he could be bothered to do some research, probably meant something.

He didn’t care enough though, so he let it be.

Thomas:

“Wait, so let me get this straight-”

“You can’t and you know it, Thomas,” Roman interrupting, hands flying up to form handguns with an eh, eh?

“Whatever, let me get this right. You, an aspect of my personality, want to ask out Logan, another aspect of my personality.”

“Think of it as self-love, Thomas.”

“...Yeah, okay,” Thomas sighed, “So, you want my advice?”

“Yes! Please! I’ve already asked all the others and none of their ideas worked!” Roman groaned, shoulders slumping as a hand came to rest on his forehead.

“Well, I always like trivia. It lets you show off your knowledge of a subject, something Logan would definitely appreciate, while also letting you learn more about your date.”

“Yes! Of course, you brilliant man! Oh, you’re just too clever sometimes!” Roman cried, halfway sunk out of the room already. “But it’s no surprise, Logan is your logic!”

With that the prince was gone, leaving a confused Thomas behind.

“Good luck?”

Attempt 4:

“Okay, so the other two wanted to have a trivia night -- will you be my partner?” Roman batted his eyelashes as he asked, having cornered Logan against the kitchen counter. Logan looked around and cleared his throat, a slight blush spreading over his cheeks.

“Of course, it- it only makes sense you want the smartest side to be your boy- partner,” Logan stammered, slipping out of Roman’s range as he spoke.

“You think I want you as my partner because you’re smart?”

“Well, yes, that would be a logical conclusion.”

“No, I want you to be my partner because you’re my friend!” Roman cried, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“Oh. Well, in that case, I suppose I can do so,” Logan conceded, raising a hand to his chin. “Do you know of the categories, yet? May I propose Valentine’s Day as one, seeing as the holiday is so close?”

“No, we can’t do that one -- you know Patton will win that one in a landslide,” Roman laughed.

“Oh, I see,” It may have been Roman’s imagination, but he could have sworn Logan frowned for a moment. Oh, well -- at least he got to spend time with the logical side tonight.

Joan and Talyn:

This was going to be a bit hard to explain, but Roman was out of people to ask for help. So, much to Thomas’s surprise, he popped up while Joan and Talyn were over. Thomas was the first to notice him, of course, and upon doing so was quite animated as he frantically gestured for Roman to sink out. That, however, caught Joan’s attention and they quickly turned around, freezing at the sight of Roman standing in the corner before slowly turning back to Thomas.

“....Thomas, what am I seeing?”

“Uhh, Joan, meet Roman? Roman, Joan,” Thomas sighed as he moved to stabilize Talyn, who had been looking a bit light headed.

After explaining the existence of the sides -- which took the better part of an hour -- Roman finally got to explain why he had chosen to pop up now of all days.

“You want to ask out Logan, who is another part of Thomas’s personality, and you need our help?” Joan asked, rubbing at their temples. “Thomas, aren’t you like, oh I don’t know… a little concerned here?”

“It’s like self love, Joan, just taken to a new level. I take it the trivia didn’t go well, Roman?” Thomas asked.

“You’ve already had this conversation? You know what, no, nevermind. Roman,” Joan turned back to the prince, “Have you tried a movie night? With just Logan?”

Roman was quiet for a moment, brow furrowed in thought.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. Thank you, you magnificent human!” Roman cried, beginning to sink down, before popping back up once more. “Thanks for these marvelous new outfits, by the way. May I suggest a bit more gold for the next one?”

He was gone before anyone could respond.

Attempt 5:

“Logan!” Roman cried as he flounced into the logical sides room. “I would like to propose a movie night! We could watch a documentary, I do believe there’s a new one on the formation of black holes out on Netflix.”

“That does sound fun, but might I suggest we watch something you would enjoy as well? I don’t want you to fall asleep in the middle of the movie after all,” This statement was accompanied by a fond smile, but Roman seemed to miss it. He focused instead on what he felt to be a rejection.

“No, no, that’s quite alright Pocket Protector. I’ve, uh, I’ve just remembered I’ve got some work to do before the next video,” Roman sighed and turned to leave. Logan watched him go, a frown quickly replacing the smile he reserved only for Roman.

As he sunk out to retire to his own room, he failed to see the tv on with the documentary already queued and ready to go.

Roman (+1 Success):

Roman hadn’t slept well that night. After leaving Logan in his room, he had stomped into his own, proceeded to take a page out of Virgil’s book and put on a playlist consisting of pg-13 music. By the time he had grown tired of the music, it was three in the morning.

Not to mention Patton waking them up all up at six am so that the fam-ILY could start of Valentine’s day with plates full of heart shaped pancakes, resulting in a mere three hours of fitful sleep.

It was noon by the time Logan was alone and by then Roman had had it up to here with romantic gestures. He was on his fifth cup of coffee and still in his pajamas when Logan asked him to come into the kitchen.

“Roman, thank you for joining me. I was hoping to get your opinion on a few things.” Logan said, smiling at him as he gestured for Roman to sit with him.

“Sure, Specs, what can I do for you?”

“Well, I have this dilemma. There’s this person I like and I have been attempting to ask them to join me on various outings all week, but have been continually misunderstood,” Logan sighed, leaning back against the counter, “As the creative aspect, I had hoped you would offer some insight so as to make him understand my intentions?”

Roman, in a fit of sleep deprivation, snorted. The snort turned into a full-blown laugh and soon he was doubled over at the knees fighting to catch his breath.

“Are- are you kidding me?” He asked, still short on breath, “Go ask someone else, I am nothing but a failure in that department!” He turned to leave but stopped short when Logan grabbed his elbow.

“You… are trying to win over someone?” He whispered a look on his face that Roman couldn’t quite name. “How- Could you walk me through what you have attempted? Maybe that could help me… or, well, nevermind.”

“No, hey, Specs -- I’m sorry. It’s just,” Roman rubbed at the back of his head as he spoke, a shy smile on his face, “I was trying to ask if… well if you would go out with me, all week. But I realize now that your lack of interest must have been due to your own infatuation with another.”

“You...you think I like someone else? And turned you down because of it? Roman, that couldn’t be any further from the truth! I have been attempting to ask you out all week as well! We must have both become so caught up in our own attempts that we missed the others.”

To say Roman was shocked would be an understatement. He stared at Logan a good thirty seconds before he could say anything.

“You...were?”

“Yes! I asked you join me for tea when you gave me that Crofters sampler, I wanted to make you a card in thanks for the one you made me, I suggested Valentine’s Day as a trivia category, and I even wanted to watch a movie you would enjoy.”

“Oh. I guess I was just being rather dense then,” Roman blinked, his brain still trying to process the new information. “So, hypothetically if I had shown up at your door earlier this week with a dozen roses and flat out told you how I felt… it would have been reciprocated?”

“Why, yes -- I had also obtained a bouquet for you, but threw it away when I decided it would not be a grand enough gesture for you.”

“Deceit will never let me live this down,” Roman groaned, but quickly perked up and grasped Logan’s hands. “So! Logan, my dear -- will you do me the honor of being my Valentine?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Logan laughed. Roman whooped and picked Logan up into a twirl. “No really, I thought you’d never ask. What a wonderful, unforeseen event!”

“I tend to bring about a lot of those, yes.”

#sanders sides #roman sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides fic #thomas sanders #deceit #sympathetic deceit #virgil sanders #patton sanders #joan and talyn #ali writes

49 notes · View notes

queen-scribbles · 6 years

Text

In Our Line of Work

For Valentine’s Day this year, have the Spy Nerds formal wear fic. Set between chapters 9 and 10 of KotFE, so shameless self indulgent established but brand new Jaaide/Theron coming right up :3

-----

Jaaide stared at the slowly rotating holo that hovered a foot or so above her head, as if by sheer persistence she could make it give her a solution. If we can’t figure out a way in, this whole thing is an exercise in futility.

“Anything?” Lana asked as she joined her, tone suggesting she knew the answer.

“No.” Jaaide huffed her bangs out of her eyes in frustration. “Why are gangsters so paranoid?”

Lana chuckled sympathetically and leaned against the holotable for a closer look. “Security’s that good?”

Jaaide nodded. “Better. I’d say this place is like a fortress, but I’ve actually infiltrated fortresses that weren’t this secure. Only way in is to be invited.”

Lana glanced at the scrolling text alongside the house layout. “And I suppose security’s only increased with the party?”

“You would be right,” Jaaide confirmed, resting her chin on her hands and studying the scrawl. “Three times the security, biotuned invitations, sec-chip locks on all the doors... Normally I would be adverse to befriending a crime lord, but in this case, it might help.”

“What if we went in as staff?” Lana suggested, lips pursed.

“No good,” Jaaide shook her head. “They finalized the staff a few days ago, have biometric and picture identification for all of the non-droids, and have strict orders not to hire any more without deep background checks.”

“Damn.” Lana frowned. “What about delivery-”

“All deliveries are to cease two days before the party, with doubled security sweeps for those two days,” Jaaide interrupted. “Already thought of that. Can’t we just wait until after the party and sneak in then?”

“Or we take advantage of the party and waltz right in the front door,” Theron interjected as he joined them, his tone just barely south of smug. “Got a contact who owed me a favor. Not ‘sneak people in’ big, but ‘swipe an invite’ sized.” He held out one hand to display the embossed flimsiplast sheet. “Looks like I even get a plus-one.”

Jaaide raised an eyebrow. “Was that your way of asking me on a date?”

Theron grinned. “Maybe. One problem, though: Zyklend’s got something of a grudge against Imperials, since the Empire cracked down on spice and slave smuggling in the wake of Arcann’s stranglehold on resources.”

“Well, then, I’ll just have to not sound like one, won’t I?” Jaaide retorted, the words clean of her typical Kaasian lilt. She smirked at the flicker of surprise he didn’t quite manage to hide. “Oh, come on, Theron, don’t tell me you never had to fake an accent in our line of work.”

“No, I have,” he muttered. “Doesn’t make it any less weird when you do it.��

“Good weird or bad weird?” she asked, still sounding like a model Republic citizen.

“Good, I think,” Theron said, still looking off-balance. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the invitation. “With that out of the way, on to the next potential snag: this data we’re after can only be downloaded from certain terminals in the house. Otherwise it’ll be complete gibberish that’ll take months to untangle.”

“Do we know which ones?” Jaaide asked, looking at the floor plan holo. “Half the rooms in this house have terminals.”

Theron shot her a narrowed-eye look as she seamlessly switched back to her normal voice mid-sentence. “Showoff. And no, we don’t. We know there’s one on the first floor and two on the second, but not which ones.”

“And we only get one shot,” Lana added, “because the data will be flagged and blocked if a download is attempted from the wrong terminal.”

“Lovely,” Jaaide sighed. “Well, then, if we’re intent on using this party for cover, we have a week to determine which terminals are authorized.” She looked up at Theron. “Any way your contact could help with that?”

He shrugged. “Getting me the invite made us even, so if I ask for more, I’ll be the one owing a favor, but it’s worth it, right?”

“Unless you think this contact will ask you to kill someone, yes, probably.” Jaaide tucked her hair behind her ear. “But it’s up to you.”

Theron rubbed the back of his neck and blew out a long, slow breath. “I’ll get in touch. You two keep planning, and hopefully we’ll get all the pieces in place so this actually works.” He squeezed Jaaide’s shoulder briefly and then headed off to use one of the base’s secure terminals.

“Well, Commander,” Lana said briskly, dragging Jaaide’s attention off the departing SIS agent and back to the holotable, “let’s get to work.”

Jaaide darted one last look toward Theron and then nodded. “Let’s.”

<><><>

The intervening week went better than Jaaide expected, as Lana was able to figure out the guard posting and scheduled rotations, and Theron’s contact got back to him with two days to spare.

Feeling far more prepared than she had in a long time--possibly ever--for this type of infiltration, Jaaide actually hummed to herself as she got dressed.

There was a knock on the door. “You ready?”

“Almost,” she replied, running her fingers through her hair. “You can come in; I could actually use your help.”

“Really?” There was a chuckle in Theron’s voice that cut off into a whistle when the door slid open.

“What?” Jaaide asked innocently, not turning round.

“I thought we were trying to blend in,” he said teasingly as he crossed the room. “That’ll be hard to do when you’re the most beautiful woman there.”

“Theron...” Jaaide rolled her eyes as she turned to tease him for the line, only to find her train of thought quickly derailed. Oh. “You’re, ah, you’re one to talk.” She swallowed and barely resisted the urge to reach out and brush her fingers down the front of his formal jacket. “You clean up nice.”

“Stole my line,” Theron grinned, clearly enjoying her stunned state. “What did you need help with?”

“Oh, right. I can’t get it to stay fastened.” She turned and tapped the gold neck band of her halter top. “The hooks keep coming undone. Maybe you can manage...?”

“...Sure.” Theron’s voice was noticeably rougher around the lone word, and it was Jaaide’s turn to smirk.

Her eyes fluttered closed at the soft brush of his fingers against her back as he fumbled with the small hooks. Oh, stars. Focus, Jaaide. “Thank you,” she murmured when he finally succeeded, finding mere centimeters between them when she turned around.

He cleared his throat. “No.. no problem. Ready?”

Jaaide examined her reflection in the mirror one more time, tugged the bottom edge of her top so it covered just a sliver more midriff, and nodded. “Ready. Shall we?”

“You don’t have to drop the accent until we get there, you know,” Theron pointed out, resting his hand in the small of her back, as they made their way to the shuttle pad.

“Consider it getting into character,” she returned. “We are still going with plan A, correct?”

“Rheton and Arienna Shaide, yes. Arms dealers. You all brushed up on your black market weaponry, Arie?”

“Sure am, Rhet,” Jaaide said, shooting him an amused look. “Good job on the cover.”

Theron smirked and took the gentle ribbing in stride. “Thanks, but I can’t take all the credit. Lana helped. And that Mirialan slicer from Coruscant’s the one who did all the work planting the ID trail ‘case they check us out.”

“Well, hopefully the groundwork is all solid and things go smoothly so we don’t have to go to plan B,” she remarked as she ducked into the shuttle.

Theron was right behind her, joking, “Aw, but plan B’s fun,” as they strapped in.

“Maybe for you.” Jaaide watched his fingers twitch as the shuttle lifted off and wondered vaguely if it was weird for him to not be in the pilot’s seat. She reached over and slipped her hand in his, giving a gentle squeeze as she linked their fingers. “I’d much prefer everything go according to plan; mingle a little, dance and schmooze a little, steal some data, maybe make out on a balcony if there’s time.” She rubbed her thumb against the back of his hand. “I hear this moon has incredible views, would make a good backdrop.”

Theron grinned. “Sure would. Let’s get through what we’re going for first. Business before pleasure and all.”

Jaaide leaned in. “Agreed. Fortunately for us, Rhet and Arie do happen to be married. Which means things like this” --she kissed his cheek-- “Aren’t out of character.”

“That is lucky for us,” he murmured. “But like I said, business before pleasure.”

The two of them lapsed into silence for the rest of the trip. Both were too busy running over all the details and minutia of this heist and solutions for things that might go wrong.

<><><>

Getting in was the easy part. The invitation was genuine, after all, so there was nothing to raise enough suspicion for the guards to dig.The names matched the IDs of the people presenting it and that was all they cared about.

Now the fun part, Jaaide thought, only half sarcastic, and loosely linked her arm through Theron’s as they strolled toward the clusters of well-dressed criminals scattered through the main room of Zyklend’s villa. Schmoozing might not be her favorite part of this work, but at least she tolerated it better than Theron did.

“Did we put anything in Rhet’s history about him being grumpy and unsociable?” she murmured, practically feeling the reluctance rolling off him in waves.

“Grumpy, no. Unsociable, yes.” He flashed her a hard edged, in-character, smile. “You’re the social butterfly, Arie, dear.”

Fantastic. She’d be doing most of the talking, then. You owe me for this, Shan. “Well, fine, then,” she said, putting an offended note in her voice as she slipped her arm free of his. “Go stand in a corner for all I care. I’m going to track down a decent conversation and a drink.”

With a look of silent understanding, they went their separate ways.

<><><>

After about an hour of mingling and recon, Jaaide had to (reluctantly) hand it to Zyklend. The crime lord was even cannier than they’d anticipated.

At first glance, none of the villa’s locked rooms were anything special, even the ones with the high-clearance terminals. They all had sec-chip locks, of course. Zyklend wasn’t an idiot. But there were no visible security measures, no posted, intimidating guards in addition to the locks. What there was, however, were regular guards strolling by on supposedly casual rounds of the entire party. Benign as these loops appeared, they were timed so the rooms she and Theron needed were never unobserved for more than two minutes.

This was a problem; skilled a slicer as he was, Theron’s best time through one of these locks was two minutes and fifteen seconds. And any interruption would mean starting all over. With this... irritating development in mind, Jaaide went slipping through the crowd of financiers, arms dealers, information brokers, and a scattering of assassins. She needed to find Theron, discuss their options in light of this complication.

In keeping with his cover’s unsociable personality, she found him in an almost-empty vestibule, nursing a Johrian whiskey and keeping half an eye on the room’s other occupants.

“Rhet, darling, there you are, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Jaaide commented as she sidled up to him.

“Well, Arie, you found me,” Theron replied gruffly, more for the benefit of their meager audience than anything. “Any special reason?”

“Not beyond this,” she said coyly, one hand snaking around the back of his neck to pull him down into a kiss--the kind of kiss that made people roll their eyes and leave the room. Which was (mostly) the point. Jaaide broke the kiss only a second or two after they achieved privacy. “Mm, thought that would work.”

“That was just for them, huh?” He’d probably meant it to sound sarcastic, but the whisper came out far too rough for that.

“Well...” she curled her hands around the lapels of his jacket and quirked an eyebrow at him. “not just for them. If I have to save the rest of what this suit makes me want to do for when we get home, I at least need a taste.”

Theron smirked, a You, too, huh? look in his eyes. “Suddenly regretting that I hid so well...”

“You’re not the only one. Why couldn’t we have made you the charmer?” she muttered, borrowing his drink. Her small sip burned more than she remembered, and she wished in passing for a cometduster.

He snorted and brushed a kiss against her temple as he reclaimed the drink. “Because there’s only so far we can stretch the truth. So why were you really looking for me?”

Jaaide rolled her eyes and almost called him on the blatant hogwash. But they had a job, that came first. She could convince him how charming he was later. For now, she filled him in on their new problems.

“Hmph,” Theron grunted when she finished. “Surprised we didn’t account for that. Wasn’t it with the rest of the info?”

“No,” Jaaide huffed. “I spent so long poring over that I memorized it. External patrols were included, but not internal. Which means it was either separate records or added later, neither of which bodes well.”

Theron raised an eyebrow and set his drink on a nearby end table. “You think Zyklend knows there’s a leak?”

“I dunno about knows,” Jaaide shrugged. “But suspects? Maybe.”

“Great,” he said dryly. “So. Options.... either we go out through a less guarded room, get up or down depending on the level, and come in through the terminal room window-”

“Way too many ways for that to go wrong,” Jaaide shot him down. “I know crazy plans are your thing, but there are sensors on all the windows, and me climbing in this skirt would be tricky, to put it lightly.”

“Well, then,” Theron smirked, “moving on to plan C, you get to distract a guard for twenty seconds or so, so I can slice the lock and get inside without getting caught.”

“You don’t think that will raise suspicion? It’s the oldest trick in the book.” She crossed her arms and shot him a skeptical look.

He grinned. “Just means you’ll have to get extra creative, huh? Surely you’ve done this sort of thing before, in our line of work.”

“Actually, I’m usually the one taking advantage of the distraction, not causing it,” Jaaide retorted.

“Well, then, you get to shake things up a little. Unless you wanna go back to window alarms and you climbing in an ankle length skirt.”

“Those are only the top two objections,” Jaaide clarified, settling her weight on one leg in a not-very-subtle move to exhibit the thigh high slit in said skirt. “There’s also the exterior lights and patrols and camera drones....”

“I get the picture,” Theron said dryly. “So we’re sticking with you distracting the guards?”

She sighed and played with one of her earrings. “Given that the only other viable choice is getting ourselves hauled to the security office and incapacitating them long enough to use their terminal and get away.... I guess we are. You realize with how paranoid Zyklend is, the guards likely have a trained response for anyone employing typical distraction methods?”

“Yeah.” He leaned in for another passionate kiss as a passing figure paused briefly in the doorway, one hand shooing away their potential company as the other dug into Jaaide’s hair. This room’s taken, thanks. Move along.

Jaaide needed a second to regain her composure when they parted(Theron grinning because he could tell wasn’t helping). She used to be better at this; her time in carbonite had made her rusty. Sure. Blame it on that. Not the lingering whiskey-tinged kiss. Or your incredibly attractive boyfriend in a suit. “And... And if part of that trained response is ‘hosting’ me in the security office while they clear things up?” she finally murmured.

Theron gave a rough chuckle(good; she wasn’t the only one collecting scattered thoughts). “Play your part, Arie, and hope to the stars our Mirialan friend did hers well.”

A rodian and a Shistavanen, both looking cagey, stepped into the room just then, so Jaaide adopted the expression of a woman who just heard something she did not want to hear, shot Theron a subtle apologetic smile, and slapped him across the face before pivoting and storming from the room in a pretended huff, taking his drink with her. The apparently bruised dignity would give him an excuse for a hasty exit, and borrowing the half-drunk whiskey would give her a prop for this distraction. She didn’t slow her pace until she was halfway down the hall, sticking with the affronted wife bit long enough for Theron to head off in the opposite direction. They needed to time this perfectly, so Jaaide didn’t raise suspicion but Theron didn’t get caught.

Contrary to instinct, the terminal on the first floor was their best shot. While it wasn’t as secluded as the upstairs terminals, the door was hardly in plain view, and most of the mingling or dancing guests were preoccupied with their own dealings or enjoyments in other rooms. And since most of said guests were on the first floor, their presence alone wouldn’t raise any red flags. At least, not as quickly. A risk, yes, but one that was common in their line of work. It would pay off. She hoped. They’d been too paranoid about potential security measures to bring any kind of comms, and it had been years since they worked together, so this would be all instinct and blind faith.

Jaaide strolled down the hallway toward a room that would give a good view of the door without being obvious what she was doing. She’d barely settled in to her position when a guard walked by. She flicked an idle glance toward the door, but there was no sign of Theron. He must be getting a feel for their rotation. Smart. But if he delayed too long, she was going to finish the whiskey, lessening its effectiveness as a prop. Unless she wanted to bash the guard over the head, but that was truly a last resort.

Just as she was starting to get edgy--a social butterfly like Arienna Shaaide wouldn’t just people watch this long--she saw him. They locked eyes briefly as Theron paused by the door before he turned his full attention to his task. Jaaide started a mental countdown. Split. Second. Timing. The next guard would be coming the other way, so she had to leave the room, cover maybe three feet of hallway, and round a corner at just the right moment to almost (but not quite) bump the guard. And then hold them up twenty seconds.

She reached her cue and pushed away from the wall, sloshing the drink over her hand in the process. Brisk but uncoordinated steps carried her toward her goal as Jaaide dug up long disused but still ingrained lessons on acting tipsy.

Her timing was perfect. Jaaide stumbled around the corner, the heel of one shoe catching the hem of her skirt in an unintentional boost to her performance just in time to narrowly avoid running into the tall, muscular woman coming the other way.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she babbled as half the remaining whiskey slopped out of the glass and over the guard’s sleeve. She put the faintest slur on her words as she continued, “I borrowed m’husband’s drink, y’see, but he likes stronger stuff’n I do, an’ I need some air.” She braced one hand against the wall as if to steady herself and gestured down the corridor with the nearly-empty tumbler. “There’za balcony this way, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the guard said, with the strained patience of one who had dealt with many trying individuals in the span of a few hours. “All the way at the end, short flight of stairs up.”

“Thank you,” Jaaide said, with far more emphasis on the first word than was necessary, pushing away from the wall to give an exaggerated wave as she tottered on toward the double doors.

Behind her, the guard snorted--and probably shook her head--before continuing with her patrol. Jaaide wondered how many other encounters the woman had had over the past few hours. It didn’t really matter, so long as it had inclined her toward dismissiveness rather than suspicion.

Even if she wasn’t actually tipsy, the fresh air on the balcony was a relief after so long surrounded by various perfumes, booze breath, body musks, and cigarra smokers. Jaaide took a deep breath and rocked the tumbler in a slow circle, watching the small remaining portion of whiskey tilt and level with each new angle. Theron had the tricky part, all she could do now was wait. Fortunately, she was very good at that. She looked up at the sky and had to admit the intel had been spot on--the view was spectacular. Thousands of stars sprinkled the sky like spilled glitter and several other nearby moon were visible among them; purplish-blue or red or white... It was breathtaking, and she was suddenly impatient for Theron to join her. The view would be much more enjoyable with his company. Now that they had everything sorted out and crystal-clear between them.

Jaaide scanned the sky, idly connecting the constellations she recognized. It started as a halfhearted way to pass the time, but she got so caught up in the game of it she almost--almost--flinched when a familiar lanky figure joined her via climbing over the railing rather than using the door.

“Don’t do that!” she admonished with a sharp huff, scowling at him as she unclenched her free hand from its instinctive fist.

Theron chuckled. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” Jaaide rolled her eyes. “Why were you scaling the wall? Did’t we nix plan B for a host of reasons?”

“Yeah, but I hit a snag and lost my time count dealing with it. Didn’t wanna walk out the door just in time to get nabbed by a guard. Especially since you did such a great job covering my entrance.” He grinned. “Thirty whole seconds. You’ll have to be the distraction more often.”

“Heh,” she scoffed. “You already owe me for being the social one, don’t go digging it deeper. Are we green?”

“As an envious rodian,” Theron confirmed. He meaningfully adjusted his sleeves, touch lingering on the glossy cufflink through one. “Everything went fine.”

Jaaide left the drink tumbler on the rail and joined him, slipping under his arm for a hug. “So, now that we’re done working, do we get to play a little, darling?” she teased, the endearment only half to maintain their cover in case anyone was listening.

“Something like that,” Theron shrugged. He rubbed her arm and kissed her forehead. “After all, might raise eyebrows if we leave too early, sweetheart.”

“So a dance or two isn’t out of the question...”

He laughed. “We can if you want. But first, I think someone mentioned the views from here being incredible.”

Jaaide hummed a quiet laugh of agreement, and they spent several minutes enjoying the sparkling panorama(and, as Jaaide had hoped, making out with it as a backdrop). It wasn’t until several other guests drifted out onto the balcony and ruined their privacy that they headed back inside. Jaaide rescued the tumbler from the railing to carry with them.

“I owe you a drink, by the way,” she commented, holding it up. “This one wound up decorating the sleeve of a rather disgruntled guard.”

Theron wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her toward the ballroom. “You can buy me one for our next date.”

Jaaide left the tumbler on the drink tray of a passing server droid “Deal.”

“Oh, so you still want a next date after I went and used plan B without you?” Theron teased as they joined the flow of already-dancing couples.

“It happens in our line of work,” she shrugged, twisting slightly so his hand was more centered in the small of her back. She tipped her head back to smirk at him. “Besides, you’re the one who was hoping to use that one. I’m sure I’ll survive not having to scale a wall in this skirt. How long do you think before Lana starts to worry about us?”

“Oh, another hour or so...” he said playfully as the music shifted, tempo slowing. The two of them simultaneously moved closer in response.

“Theron.” Jaaide laughed into his jacket. She didn’t want to waste an evening of having him to herself, especially dressed like that, but they both knew Lana was fully aware of how long this should take.

“She was probably compiling lists of reasons to worry before we even left, knowing her,” Theron said, resting his cheek against her hair. “Like I said, though, we don’t want to leave too early. Might make people think something suspicious is going on.”

“Oh, of course, that’s our only reason,” Jaaide deadpanned, snuggling closer.

“Of course.” He didn’t seem in any hurry for this dance to end. “That’s how it is in our line of work. Definitely not me wanting to, uh, enjoy the view a little longer.”

“Perish the thought,” Jaaide smirked. Nice to know they were on the same frequency there.”View’s not too shabby from where I’m standing, either....”

Theron grinned. “I try.” His thumb rubbed her back below the edge of her top and Jaaide bit her lip as a shiver curled up her spine.

“Mm, well, it’s definitely a successful attempt,” she murmured. “I say we take our sweet time and hope Lana buys the ‘not making people suspicious’ explanation.”

“I’m willing to risk it if you are.”

<><><>

Lana didn’t buy it. But she didn’t complain, either, when Theron handed her the datastick cufflink. Not too much, anyway.

It was just as well; they didn’t stick around to hear it. The rest of the evening was theirs, after all, and you had to take the time you could in their line of work.

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

So, because I couldn’t find a good canon-compliant suit, I just said screw it and Theron’s wearing a good ol’ tailored tux, while Jaaide is in this

(drawn for me by the talented rakiah), just tweaked to a halter top neckline bc the mental image of her needed Theron’s help to fasten it was too good to pass up.

#queens fic #jaaide arien #theron shan #otp: straight up truth #swtor fic #imperial agent/theron shan #man i've been sitting on that forever #yay it's done #swtor

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