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all1e23 · 4 years

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Tricks & Treats

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Orion’s Halloween is quickly turning rotten until someone helps to turn her day around with a few sweet treats.

Warnings: N/A Unless you count a disgusting amount of fluff to be a warning.

A/N: A new Astrophile drabble! This is set in the very far future, Halloween 2042. Orion is 27 and it’s just the kiddos. No Beck or Bucky. This does have some bits (okay a lot of bits) of the the shared Price of Astrophile universe collab with Tara and if you haven’t read The Price of Gold you need to! Thank you to my beautiful @moonbeambucky for looking it over for me. If you have not read the series Astrophile, THERE WLL BE MAJOR SPOILERS.

Catch up on the series here!

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!*

Halloween 2042

Today has been a disaster. A complete and utter nightmare. It started with spilling hot tea all over her copy of Star Lore and down the front of her favorite skirt, which forced Ori to settle for the little black number Cassie bought her as a Halloween costume. It’s supposed to be a cat but it’s really a dress accompanied by cat ears. It’s not that it’s awful, it’s not her usual taste. It’s a simple spaghetti strap dress, sweetheart necklace that doesn’t dip too low and cut just above her knee. As far as Halloween costumes go it’s fairly modest but it’s a little tight compared to the rest of Ori’s closet.

Little did she know that was just the beginning to her terrible day. This was the first day in months that Ori was running the store on her own. No mom to fall back on. Not that it hasn’t happened before. At fourteen Ori was working the floor by herself so none of this was new but, today has been a nightmare from the moment the doors opened. It was unusually busy for a holiday, especially Halloween. It wasn’t often that the store was packed with customers on a day like today and there were moments when Ori began to feel claustrophobic with the amount of people filling the tiny shop.

Half of the morning was spent on decorating the window display for a new series that was set to be released at the beginning of November. The copies were scheduled to be delivered today, but they never showed and when Ori called to check on their status, the man she was unlucky enough to be put in contact with screamed at her, explaining that it was a holiday and not everyone spent their lives working.

It was one of those days where she wished she was ten years old again and Bucky could swoop in and save the day.

By some miracle, there was a lull, and she was able to slip behind the counter where her phone is kept when she’s working the floor alone. She swiped away the missed calls from Cassie and ignored the texts from Leo. There was only one person who knew how to calm the swirling mess in her head right now and she knows how pathetic she looks, twenty-seven, and tears swimming in her eyes. She didn’t care because just hearing his voice would help settle her. Theo’s voice rang her ear and as happy as she was to hear it, part of her wished it wasn’t his voicemail.

“H-hey,” Ori’s voice cracked, she cleared her throat ridding it of the tears choking her. “I know you’re at work. I’m sorry I’m calling. Please tell me I didn’t get you in trouble. I’m so sorry if I did. I just… I needed to hear your voice. I’m having a really awful day. That party with Cassie is tonight. I don’t want to go even though Cassie says it will be fun. And this new series. This stupid dumb shipment. They said they would be here today and I spent all morning doing the window display between the mad rush of customers by the way, they never showed. When I called to check in they said they can’t get here because it’s a holiday and well, they yelled at me. Now, I have to find something to replace the window display and spend another hour fixing what I did this morning. The store is so incredibly busy. I haven’t even stopped for lunch. I’m hungry and tired and I hate this day. Great. Now, I’m whining. Did I mention that I miss you? Well, I do and-”

“Ma'am?” A deep voice grabs Ori’s attention and she turns around to find a man in a UPS shirt standing behind the counter, she smiles as kindly as she can and pulls the phone away from her mouth to answer him, “I’m so sorry. Can I help you?”

“We have your delivery.”

Ori can feel the color drain from her face. She shouldn’t have that many boxes and the publisher on the clipboard being handed to her isn’t right.

“Wait… No. No, I didn’t order that. That’s not mine-”

“Orion Barnes?”

“Well, yes that’s me but,” She sighs, holding back the whimper that’s threatening to escape her. “Can you hold on just one second?"

Ori didn’t wait for his okay like she normally would have, she stepped towards her office and put the phone back up to her ear, “I guess my terrible, awful, no good day isn’t over. Talk to you soon? I hope.”

Orion had her eyes glued to a stack of invoices in front of her when the bell above the shop door rang. Thankfully, she was able to clear up the whole shipping mixup, but dealing with that set her even further behind inventory. It didn’t matter much. She knew who it was without having to raise her head. Ori didn’t have to look up to know her sister had arrived. Cassie skipped nearly everywhere, she has since she was old enough to walk and between the jingling of the bracelets on her wrist, the massive keyring on her purse, and the bells on her shoes (that had nothing to do with Halloween) it was easy to know when she arrived. The jingling came to a stop next to Ori, and a slight nudge to her hip that made Ori look up from the papers in her hand to find Cassie handing over a small brown paper bag from the bakery next door. Ori narrows her eyes at the gesture. Is she trying to butter her up about the party tonight?

“What’s this?”

“Cinnamon bagel from next door,” Cassie said with a certain self-satisfied taunt to her voice. “A certain boy texted me and said you hadn’t eaten today and asked if I could bring you something when I come by to pick you up for tonight."

Ori beams brightly as she peeks in the bag, avoiding her baby sister'’ suspicious and slightly giddy gaze.

“Question. Why is Theo texting me about your food needs and how does he know about tonight?”

She doesn’t answer, but this isn’t unusual. Like Bucky, Ori’s softer, gentler when it comes to revealing things close to her heart. There are some secrets she’s not ready for the world (or herself) to know yet. Cassie on the other hand is loud, in all things, but especially with what’s written on her heart. She loves just as deeply as Ori does but she’s quick to shout it from the rooftops, without a hint of fear.

Ori wishes she could be like that sometimes.

“Something is up. I can tell by the smile you’re trying to hide!”

"I’m smiling because I was hungry and it was very thoughtful of you both.”

Ori finally gets a look at Cassie’s costume when Cassie sheds her coat and she can’t help the surprised laugh that slips out. She’s in a white cotton dress that looked like it was made from one of those adult onesies, covered in glitter from head to toe and the rainbow leggings she has on matches the tail sticking out of the bottom of her coat and the mane on her hood she has pushed down.

“What are you wearing?!”

“What? I’m a sparkly unicorn. I look adorable!”

Ori grins.

“Yes, you do. You look beautiful.”

The bell chimes again and Ori greets her brother without looking, he’s never far behind Cassie after all. Leo looked pretty much like he always does, slacks and a button-up white collared shirt under his coat but he was wearing black square-frame glasses. He leans over the mahogany counter and presses a kiss on Ori’s cheek. Whatever Cassie was hoping to get out of Ori would never happen now that Leo was present. Ori laughed at the pout on Cassie’s face, picking at the bagel as she scans over the invoice in front of her.

“Ready for tonight?” Leo asks as he steals a piece of her bagel.

Ori shrugs a little, glancing at the clock and sighed when she saw it was nearing six. They would be pushing her out the door soon. It’s not that she didn’t like going out, she did. Things have been off lately and she hasn’t felt much like socializing, which is why her siblings insisted they have a party. If it turns out to be as terrible as she predicts it’s going to be, she can always call Bucky to pick her up because no matter what Bucky still drops everything to come to her rescue whenever she needs it.

“It’s going to be fun!”

“I guess. I’m not really a party person.”

“I know but you make the cutest cat ever.”

Leo’s brow furrows and the worry on his face has him looking so much like Bucky it almost makes Ori laugh.

“You’ve been working a lot. Skipping family stuff. When was the last time you came to family dinner and didn’t rush out the door? Mom said you’re working more hours than she is-”

“I should! She deserves time with dad and it’s not like I have a life waiting on me right now.”

It’s been a little over a year since she called off her wedding and ended things with Cole and while she’s happy that relationship has ended, she’s nowhere near where she thought she would be at her age. She had plans and lists, milestones she promised herself she would hit by a certain age and now she’s… floating. No purpose. No real path. Simply riding her mother’s coattails, managing a store she wouldn’t have without her mother and she has no idea where she’s going or what her future is going to look like. It’s terrifying. So maybe she’s been spending a little more time at work to keep her mind busy. Sometimes it doesn't quite calm the chaos in her head, but staying busy helps.

“That’s not true. You have us and, yeah, mom deserves a break but so do you. We thought it would be good to get out of the house. If you hate it I’ll bring you home.”

Ori smiles. Leo has always been their protector, ready to jump in and save his mom and sisters from anything that could cause them the slightest bit of discomfort. She couldn't be aggravated with him for wanting to help, he’s only following in Bucky’s footsteps.

“Yeah, okay. Today has been a mess. Give me a few minutes to wrap things up, okay?”

She’s barely had time for her eyes to focus on the words in front of her when Cassie chirps from her side, “The window display is a mess. What happened there?”

“Cassie!”

“I’m just saying. Want me to help you fix it tomorrow?”

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Ori snatches the brown bag with her bagel resting on top and heads back towards the office in hopes she will be able to focus there, “and yes. I would like help. Thank you.”

“I’ll watch the desk!” Cassie shouts behind her, getting an appreciative smile from Ori. The quiet doesn’t last long. The shop bell is ringing and Cassie is yelling for her before she’s managed to make it through one invoice.

“Ori! Get out here. There’s a delivery.” Cassie’s shouts are piercing her ears and she’s certain the entire bakery next door can hear her clear as day. Ori steps back out onto the sales floor, frowning and having every intention of reminding Cassie not to scream in the store, but she can’t because she’s staring at the largest bundle of lavender she’s ever seen.

“I-- this. What is this?”

“They are for you!” Cassie squeals but quickly stops smiling and looks at the older gentleman who is wearing a warm smile when he confirms that they are indeed for her sister.

“Yes, ma’am,” The man says with a chuckle, “If you’re Orion Barnes. These are for you.”

He passes the delicate bundle wrapped in brown paper in her arm and passes over a pen for her signature. She quickly scribbles her name and pulls the small white card out of the twine, grinning foolishly at what’s written.

“Who are they from?” Cassie begs, jumping up and down. “I already know but I need to see the card myself.”

Ori presses the card to her chest to keep Cassie from sneaking a peek, she’s not willing to share a bit of the sweetness written there. Cassie quickly gives up on the card and snatches the receipt before Ori can grab it, finding exactly what she was looking for.

“Theo Tucker! I knew it!”

The thin paper is pulled from Cassie’s hand by Leo, who is staring at the receipt with a deep frown as if he can’t process what he is seeing.

“Why is Theo sending you flowers? Where did he find a place that delivers lavender like that? More importantly… why is Theo sending you flowers?"

Ori can’t answer her brother, she’s too busy grinning like a fool and hiding her blushing cheeks behind the soft purple sprigs in her arms.

“What do you mean ‘Why is Theo sending her flowers?’ Because he loves her. Am I the only that’s been paying attention?”

"He loves you. It's the same thing and you don’t get flowers.”

“It is a hundred percent not the same thing, Leo.”

There’s the faint sound of the twins arguing in the background, “How is it different?” “Leo you can’t be serious. You’ve seen the way he looks at her!” She should probably stop their bickering but she can’t. She can’t focus on anything, not while she’s daydreaming about California.

Maybe it wasn’t the worst day, after all.

“So, are you going to wear a sprig of lavender as your catnip? Seems like it added a little spring in your step.”

“Cassie!”

Cassie had squealed when Ori asked her to draw a cat nose and whiskers on her face. If she was going to dress as a cat she had to go all out. The ears, while cute, weren’t enough to satisfy the perfectionist in her. Before they left her apartment, she sent Theo a thank you text and a picture of her all dressed up. The simple response, you look beautiful, makes her stomach flip and leaves her head spinning. It drops a fraction when Leo asks why she’s smiling at her phone with such a goofy grin.

No one is ready for that answer, so she tucked her phone in her purse for now.

The minute they arrived, Leo stepped through the front door and pulled his shirt open to reveal a giant S stitched onto his blue undershirt and he proceeded to do several more times throughout the night. Despite her reservations about the party, it wasn’t so bad. Or maybe she was simply in a better mood. She spent a better part of the night hanging around Cassie and Ariel, who was dressed as Tinker Bell and her lovesick Peter Pan never strayed from her side for long. Ori didn’t know a lot of the people currently filling Leo and Ollie’s apartment, so it felt safer to stick by family.

At some point a small group of people broke off from the larger party and started playing spin the bottle. It was strange to watch twenty year olds play a childhood game. There was bobbing for apples which didn’t seem all that sanitary if you asked Ori, which is why she declined rather emphatically when asked if she wanted to try.

Halfway through the night their mom texted asking for pictures, so she took a few with Cassie and Ariel, some of her and Leo and of course all of them posing together. She even sent the few of Ariel and Ollie off to the Tuckers. Another text comes in but it’s not a response from her parents, a very handsome Indiana Jones pops up and she can’t help the huge smile that forms. He looks adorable with that hat and playful smirk and she tells him so. Ori peered over her phone to find Cassie and Ariel smiling, she cleared her throat and quickly hid her phone back in her purse.

“Oh, look. There are some mummy cupcakes left. I better go grab one before they disappear,” Ori had muttered as she quickly tried to divert attention off of her.

There was every Halloween themed treat you could think of. The chocolate covered strawberries dressed up as ghosts, bloody s’mores, and candy corn rice krispy treats were gone first. When Ori asked how they managed to do all this, Leo admitted with a sheepish grin that their mom had done most of the baking and Cassie and Ariel had decorated. She should have known Ariel had a hand in the planning, it was too well organized for Leo and Ollie to handle on their own.

The party started to die down a little after one in the morning, Leo offered his bed but Cassie was already fast asleep and there was no way she was sharing with that human koala. After refusing to take Leo’s spot on the couch, Leo brought her back home with the promise to text him the minute he got back. There’s no way he would let her catch a cab back to her place all by herself.

It’s nearly three by the time Ori trudges up the stairs to her apartment. She’s tired, but it’s a good kind of tired. Not that she will ever admit this to Cassie but tonight was fun. It wasn’t exactly where she wanted to be, and a very important someone was missing but it wasn’t as bad as she envisioned. She slips out of her heels and drops her purse on the table by the front door, she can clean up tomorrow when she’s not struggling to keep her eyes open. Right as she reaches kitchen island where her bouquet is sitting in her mother’s chipped mint green vase, her phone rings in her hand and she can’t help but grin at the name staring back at her.

“Hey, you.”

Ori grins, dusting a finger over a stray sprig and she’s suddenly not feeling as tired.

“My day? You know, it wasn't so bad actually. It got better there at the end. Even better now.”

#Orion Barnes #astrophile files #Theo Tucker x Orion Barnes #Theo x Ori #the price of astrophile #poa #Astrophile

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laurenairay · 4 years

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Pumpkin Carving - A. Burakovsky

Summary: carving pumpkins with your boyfriend Andre and your nieces gets a little competitive.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: minor injury (nothing serious, but a little blood), super cuteness

A/N: Burky is such an adorable goofball, I love him 💚

“Did you seriously injure yourself carving a pumpkin?” - prompt is from this list - one of the autumn/fall stories I promised myself I would write. Written after encouragement from @jamiedrysdales - and thank you to @itsbadgerbadgermushroom for hyping me up with this one! 💖

~~~

Any time you could spend with your nieces was a blessing. Now that you’d graduated college and were working full time, the amount you saw them had massively decreased, so the weekends that you were able to, you definitely took advantage of being the best aunt you could be. This weekend was only a few days before Halloween, meaning it was time for your annual pumpkin carving competition – every year your two nieces would each draw a design in marker pen on their pumpkin and you plus another adult would do the actual carving for them (usually their mom). Whoever had the ‘best’ design would ‘win’ (of course they both got a prize) – it was just a silly little bit of fun but you treasured the family tradition.

This year you’d roped your boyfriend Andre into helping.

He’d only met your nieces a few times in the year that you’d been dating, the schedules not really having worked out, but as soon as you’d suggested the pumpkin carving he was all in. He’d arrived at your apartment nearly an hour before your nieces were due to arrive, buzzing with excitement (and maybe a little too much caffeine), to help you set up the carving stations.

Oh yes, you took things that seriously.

Either side of your dining table you set up old newspapers, 2 medium sized pumpkins, 2 thick markers and 2 thin markers, as well as the small pumpkin carving knives that you and Andre would use.

“Will this bowl do?”

You whipped your head around, smiling at the plastic bowl your boyfriend had brought in from the kitchen. That size would be just about right, good job Andre.

“Yes, perfect for the guts,” you nodded.

“Guts?!” Andre yelped.

You couldn’t help but giggle, making him blush deeply.

“The insides of the pumpkins – the stringy, gooey, seedy bits that need to be scooped out before we can draw and carve. I like to separate the seeds out later and roast them for snacks,” you grinned.

“Sounds disgusting. I’m in,” Andre grinned back.

You dug out the kids-size aprons you kept for arts and crafts activities and draped them over the back of the chairs, before putting your hands on your hips. Yes, this would do nicely. You jumped slightly as Andre slid his arms around you from behind, but melted into his embrace as his hands settled on your waist.

“You really put so much thought into this, don’t you?” he murmured.

You bit your lip, but nodded. “Yeah, it’s one of my favourite times of year and the girls love it too. It’s messy, silly and fun – we always have a good time,”

Andre smiled into your neck, pressing a light kiss behind your ear, making the skin tingle slightly. “I’m excited to share it with you,”

You spun around in his arms, smiling up at him as your slid your hands up his chest, his hands moving to rest on your ass.

“I’m excited to share it with you too,” you said softly.

Andre just smiled a little wider, before leaning down to kiss you.

You lost time exchanging slow sweet kisses, tongues light and teasing, never building to anything raunchy but just a gradual swell of intensity that had your body buzzing. You could feel Andre half hard against your stomach, but you knew it wasn’t going anywhere before your nieces arrived – that just wasn’t the vibe at all. Just being close to him, running your fingers through his curls, touching him, tasting him, that was all that you needed right now. Eventually your kisses slow down to a few gentle pecks, until you were breathing heavily. Andre’s lips were lightly swollen and pink, his eyes a little wide, and you knew you looked the same way. Damn he looked good.

“I’m going to, uh, get some drinks ready?” you said, a little breathless.

Andre just nodded, licking his bottom lip. Damn. You quickly turned and walked away, unable to stop the stupid smile on your face. You really did feel so giddy around him sometimes.

It was only a few minutes later when your doorbell rang, so placed the glasses of juice on the table before heading to let your nieces in.

“Aunt Y/N!”

You grinned at their squeals, laughing as they threw their arms around you. “Are you two ready to have fun carving pumpkins with Andre and I?”

“Yes! Is he here already?” your oldest niece asked, clearly excited.

You nodded, smiling down at her. “Yeah he’s here – why don’t you two go wash your hands and put your aprons on,”

They ran past you with happy cheers, making you laugh again as you bid goodbye to their mom. How they had that much energy was beyond you. By the time you reached them at the carving stations, they were both already sat down with their aprons, wiggling in their seats in anticipation. Andre winked at you, making you blush a little.

“Alright, who wants to be paired with Andre?” you asked, rolling your eyes playfully at him.

“Me please!” your youngest niece said immediately.

You could see the relief in Andre’s eyes that he hadn’t been a reluctant choice – you’d told him he wouldn’t be, but you were glad that you were able to prove yourself right. He sat down next to her, big smile on his face, and you sat down opposite him next to your oldest niece, who beamed at you.

“So, rules,” you said firmly.

“Rules?” Andre asked, pouting.

Your nieces giggled. “Squishy guts out first. No peaking at the other drawing. And only adults use the knives,” your youngest niece said simply.

You saw Andre make a face again at ‘squishy guts’ and grinned at him. This was going to be fun.

It took a little while for your nieces to scoop out the pumpkin guts and seeds, Andre more than happy to just pass the bowl back and forth, and after they’d washed their hands again, the drawing began. Your oldest niece had decided on having a cat face on hers this year, which looked pretty cute, but you had no idea what Andre and your youngest niece were drawing – all you could see was them whispering to each other every now and again, pointing at their pumpkin.

You didn’t think you could love this man any more than you already did, but seeing him so sweet with your niece just made your heart so happy and full. You honestly didn’t know what you’d done to deserve such a genuinely kind guy. He was so cute with your niece - what more could you ask for?

“I think we’re ready,” Andre announced.

You looked down at your oldest niece who nodded back to you. Ready it was then.

“Be careful with the pumpkin knife, Andre. It’s small but it’s sharp,” your youngest niece said suddenly, frown on her face.

Andre nodded solemnly. “I will do my very best to be careful,”

Well at least he was honest. You grinned at him, picking up your own knife, earning a grin and a wink back, his foot pressing against yours under the table. So sweet. You set to work with your pumpkin, carefully cutting out the pieces of the drawing that needed to go to achieve your niece’s desired design. You could see her smile growing wider as her drawing came to life – that was exactly why you did this every year, encouraging her creativity in such a fun way.

You were nearly finished with your carving with you heard Andre yelp, his knife clattering to the floor. “Blood!” your youngest niece whimpered.

“Did you seriously injure yourself carving a pumpkin?” you mused, carefully putting down your own knife.

Andre bit his bottom lip, nodding as he clutched his hand to his chest, shielding the injury from your niece. Oh damn. It wasn’t just his pride that was hurt then. You smiled down at your oldest niece to reassure her, before walking round the table to where Andre was.

“Close your eyes,” you told your youngest niece, waiting until she did so to hold out your hand to your boyfriend. He winced but uncurled his fist, a smear of blood masking a small shallow cut to the side of his finger. Okay, not as bad as you thought.

“It won’t need stitches, but it will need cleaning out and a bandaid,” you said softly, letting go of his hand.

“I didn’t think it was bad. It was just…”

“The shock?” you offered.

“Yeah,” he nodded, blushing a little. Bless him.

You beckoned him to stand up, pressing a little kiss to your niece’s head, murmuring that she could open her eyes now. “Stay here girls – I’ll just clean up Andre’s little cut and then we can finish, yeah?”

They both nodded, so you walked out to the bathroom, Andre trailing behind you.

“I’m so sorry,” he blurted as soon as the door closed.

What? “What are you sorry for?” you frowned.

“I ruined pumpkin carving by getting hurt,” he mumbled, seeming to shrink in on himself a little.

Oh no. That wouldn’t do.

“Absolutely not,” you said firmly, cupping his face with your hands, making him look at you, “my nieces are having so much fun and that hasn’t changed. We just need to clean you up and wash the knife, that’s all,”

“You’re not mad at me?” he asked quietly.

Your heart broke a little at the sadness on his pretty face, and you shook your head.

“I promise I’m not mad,” you insisted.

He bit his lip, unsure, so you leant up to kiss him, waiting until he’d relaxed enough to kiss you back to tug on that bottom lip with your teeth, making him whimper softly as you broke away.

“I mean it. It’s all going so well, so let’s clean up and get back out there,”

“Okay,” he nodded, a little breathless.

“Unless you’d rather stop the pumpkin carving?” you teased.

Andre shook his head quickly, making you laugh. “No! We have a competition to win!”

That’s the spirit.

#my writing #andre burakovsky #lauren writes autumn #andre is super cute but super clumsy #andre burakovsky x reader #andre burakovsky fic #andre burakovsky imagine #andre burakovsky blurb #hockey writing #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey blurb #nhl writing #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl blurb

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foreficfandom · 4 years

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The Arcana - Getting MC A Gift

-- Asra: Magical Technology

Asra’s not a very gifty person. Not because he’s selfish, or ungenerous, he’s just not the type of person who’s prone to giving material things to people.

But that changes once you enter the picture. He’s finally got you back in his arms, and he’s gonna cherish every moment he has with you. What better to mark this anniversary than with a gift?

And it’s not gonna be any little trinket, either. If Asra’s gonna gift, he goes all out and really puts effort into creating/finding the perfect thing.

After weeks of meticulous research and careful crafting, he finishes his amazing gift, just in time for the holidays. Before the two of you retire for the night, Asra pulls out this colorful glass box etched with runes and imbued with energy.

It’s a communication device, he explains. You fill the interior with water from any source, and it immediately connects with his own - he pulls out an identical box.

You and Asra can reach each other by use of a water spell, which can be inconvenient because the spell uses up energy and requires both to be at a body of water simultaneously. But with this, you can reliably call upon Asra at any time, knowing that he’ll be sure to reply.

It’s the perfect gift. You hug him tightly and promise to keep it safe, if he hangs onto his, too. He promises to always be in touch from now on.

-- Julian: Imported Shawl

A big day’s coming up! It’s a holiday, or maybe your birthday, and Julian needs to find a gift fitting of you. Which is easier said than done, because even if the two of you are a very familiar, close couple, he’s still kinda stupid and panics over finding you the right gift. What if he gives you something stupid??

He considers jewelry, perfumes, rare magical ingredients for your work, you like to cook so maybe you’ll like this spice set, or perhaps these fancy oil paints, oooh that’s a gorgeous crystal lamp it would look beautiful in your room -

He ends up chickening out a bit and going simple, buying a hand-printed shawl woven from rare Prakan silk. It feels luxurious and soft, but it’s naturally hardy and resistant to wear and tear.

It’s nothing big, so he delivers his gift to you along with a romantic bouquet of flowers and a nice dinner. He hands you the wrapped package blushing like crazy.

You love it, and immediately take it out to try it on. He marvels at how the colors compliment your complexion beautifully. Throughout the dinner, Julian talks about visiting the Pearl Isles of Prakra and seeing the fields of mulberry leaves dedicated to silkworm cultivation, before the crew was beset by a massive swarm of sharks.

-- Nadia: Fancy Desserts

Nadia would shower you in trinkets if you allowed her. If you’d rather she didn’t, she won’t indulge. But if you do enjoy her luxury, she pulls no stops in making sure you’re surrounded by the most beautiful and gorgeous things.

But not just material things. Nadia also wants to buy you experiences. Like hunting parties by the famous Star Lakes, or traveling to the Golden Gulf and soaking in their famous mud baths. With royalty comes opportunity, and Nadia firmly believes in sharing it with others. Especially you.

One of the simpler experiences she can gift you is cuisine. Tasting food from around the world is always a fulfilling experience, and it requires no fancy occasion to indulge. Mealtimes at the palace are kinda unpredictable, since you never know what Nadia requests the kitchens to do that day. It could be simpler domestic cuisine, or it could be very esoteric and worldly.

Sometimes, you’ll wake up from your nap in the library (”Falling asleep from working too hard again, dear?”) and see a small box placed next to you, and you open it to reveal floral honey marshmallow treats, imported from a far-away land. One of your many little gifts from Nadia, who loves you so much and wants your life to be sweet. Your rewarding kiss to her is tinged with sugar.

-- Portia: Personalized Ceramics

As a palace maidservant, Portia earns a sturdy. She’s got enough coin for her own indulgences, and her pouch is even more plentiful because she rarely spends money on anything luxurious or expensive. She’s got her cottage, a stocked larder, and her family, she doesn’t need gold or jewels.

When it comes to buying you a gift, then it’s time to bust out her savings and consider her options. With this money, she could get you something big, like those bricks of imported chocolate she sometimes sees in the market, ohh those would make a luxurious and delicious gift, wouldn’t they? Or maybe you’d like those embroidered slippers, or a set of lapis lazuli earrings ...

While touring the market, she passes by a pottery and gets an idea; with the help of a potter, she throws two large mugs and paints them painstakingly with designs that reminder her of the two of you. Within the week, they’re ready.

It’s a perfect gift. Instead of something more ostentatious, it’s a personalized reminder of her love. You unwrap the mugs and marvel at her impressive craftsmanship. She blushes and mumbles that the potter helped a lot, but you didn’t want to hear it and hugged her tightly.

She keeps one, you keep the other. Whenever the two of you sit down to tea or coffee, you both sit across from each other with the mugs and it makes your hearts warm at the sight.

-- Muriel: Protection Charm

Muriel’s lived a solitary life for so long, he’s pretty much lost track of any holiday dates. When it comes time for the rest of the world to begin gift-giving, he’s completely out of the loop unless he picks up the atmosphere while during his rare ventures into town, or maybe Asra asks him if he’s gonna give something to you.

He panics a bit. He’s never really gifted something before, and no, those little pouches of myrrh don’t count. He’s got no money, and no real idea of the value of any trinkets he could buy.

But then he realizes as he tours his nearby forest during his daily chores, he’s got an entire goldmine of riches right at his doorstep. The forest is full of useful bounty, and years of roughing it has taught him more than a few tricks.

With some help from Asra, Muriel carefully carves away at a bit of petrified wood - a very powerful magical catalyst that would cost a fortune if you didn’t know where to find some - until it forms a ring decorated with runes. A spell for protection.

The next time you two meet, Muriel stammers and digs into his pocket before depositing the ring into your outstretched hands, and you feel the power radiating off of it. It’s an amazing bit of craftsmanship and magic.

He feels so light on his feet seeing you gush over your gift. Muriel vows to gift you more often, if it meant making you happy.

-- Lucio: Bejeweled Necklace

This uncursed-Count would empty the treasury in your name, if he didn’t know any better. And he just barely does. But he certainly doesn’t spare any expense when it comes to burying you with decadence; gold and silver, expensive furs and silk, the rarest wines and exquisite foods.

In the beginning, he didn’t particularly listen to your criticisms of his spending, and just kept on delivering boxes of luxurious chocolates or new gowns. But as time went on, he grew up a bit and learned that all these riches can go to more productive means than earning your affection. Which he already had, and didn’t need to fight for.

Still, even as his rule improved, he didn’t totally abandon his habit of spoiling you. He just kept it to ‘proper’ occasions like holidays, birthdays, or anniversaries. For your birthday, he decided to commission a famous jeweler from all the way in Nevivon for a truly ostentatious necklace dripping with white gems and platinum.

It was actually a mark of growth on his part that he didn’t make a huge show over this gift, and didn’t deliver it to you over the dinner party in an effort to brag. Instead, he gently handed it over in the privacy of the bedroom, and relished in how your eyes lit up at the exquisite wealth.

He helped you clasp it around your neck, and kissed you softly. “You deserve the best. Not just in the form of jewels, but in everything.”

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana imagines #Asra Alnazar #julian devorak #Nadia Satrinava #Portia Devorak #muriel the arcana #count lucio

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missblissy · 4 years

Text

Rebirth (Chapter Ten)

Alastor x Human!Reader ((Reincarnation!AU))

Prologue || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten

This isn’t crazy, is it? Robbing a house with a demon wasn’t crazy, right? You really hoped so. So much was happening, so many things were going on and you found it hard to focus on following this spider... person... Angel walked around this house like he knew it like the back of his hand. He did say he lived here, you remembered, how long ago did he die? You followed him through one living room then into a hall then into another even bigger living room, this one had a large flatscreen TV hanging from a wall and enough couch space to fit a dozen people.

There was brilliant and exotic art hanging from the walls. Long and vibrant house plants scattered the windows or any place they could be squeezed into an area slightly too small for them. You felt oddly out of place in this house, it was far too expensive and you felt incredibly nervous. You really didn’t want to get caught robbing this place. Your parents would fall in their graves if you went to prison.

Angel was grumbling to himself as he rounded a corner and walked down a hallway. He turned and suddenly bumped into the wall like he didn’t even see it was there, “What!?” He rubbed his head with one hand while two pressed onto a wall. You watched his eyes frazzle in size as he realized there was a wall in front of him, “There’s suppose to be a stairwell up here!” But it was only a narrow dead-end hallway, a few doors littered here and there, but there were no stairs, “Fuck!” He stomped a foot on the ground and you saw him get ready to punch the wall.

“Don’t!” You quickly reached out and grabbed his arm, “We can find another way upstairs, chill out, Angel-”

However, his glare at you never softened, “You even sound exactly like her,” Then he brushed you off and started tracing back down the hall, “And now you look like her. There’s no way you’re actually Crybaby, are you?” He didn’t look at you once while he went back to wandering down the halls quickly. That’s when you remembered that Angel knew you in your bast life

He was very hard to keep up with but you trotted after him, “No,” You told him with a grave tone, “Just the same soul. Did you know her?”

You watched him shrug his shoulder as he found a spiral staircase in the back of this massive house, “Knew her? Hm, I think I knew her better than anyone else, even Smiles,” It took you a second to realize he was talking about Alastor, “We were best friends,” Angel went on, his voice wavering some as he quickly climbed the stairs. You watched him use all four of his arms in a sense of awe. This was a real demon. You caught a glimpse of your own reflection in a mirror that was in perfect eyesight of your wandering gaze. You were so different now, your hair, your skin, your eyes... They were just black. No color, no pupil, just large empty black eyes. At least you stopped crying, but you looked like you were on the verge of tears.

As you followed him to the second floor, you dared to ask, “What was she like?” It wouldn’t surprise you if he said anything along the lines of perfect.

But Angel laughed and you noticed a devilish little smirk grown on his face as he bee-lined for a door, “A fucking trainwreck, but somehow classy. She was one of the top overlords of hell and she didn’t get there being nice,” He threw open the door and dove into a large bedroom, a guest room if you had to guess. It was void of any reminders that someone may have lived here. No photos, no keepsakes. Just a bedroom in the shade of blue. Yet Angel seemed like he knew exactly where to go.

He went to the closet and twisted the knob open. He was quick to throw himself in there, falling on his knees and using all of his four arms to move all the junk out of his way, “What are you looking for?” You asked while making your way to the window. You peered outside and saw Alastor looking directly at you, a smile on his face and blood pooling at his feet. He was beaten up pretty bad, wasn’t he?

“This!” Angel yelled from within the closet. You hurried over and knelt down behind him as you watch him tear the wallpaper off the wall in the back of the closet. You’re heart jumped and you were about to tell Angel to cut it out when he grumbled, “Stop it- Stop making me feel your feelings! I need this! I need to do this! You wouldn’t understand,” You felt the bitterness and resentment in Angel’s words.

“I- I don’t know how to stop-”

“Just smoke a joint or something- Take a Xanax!” He reached a hand into one of his pockets then tossed a little dime bag with a couple colorful pills in it, “That’s what you did before- numb the pain sweetheart it’s more fun than ya think,”

You quickly tossed the baggie of drugs to the floor, “No thanks-” And as you did that, Angel managed to yank some kind of plywood out of the wall.

“Ha! It’s still here- I knew I could count on you, Mol-” Angel was shoulder deep in the hole he tore in the wall, his hand searching around in the dark until it found a heavy tin box. He pulled out the box and quickly flipped the latches open.

Dust and rust and all kinds of dirt puffed into the air as Angel dug around in the box. You watched over his shoulder and peered inside. You found a tin box full of keepsakes. There was a couple of toy dolls tattered and torn, a pocket knife that was beginning to rust, some money from an era before your life, dozens of letters and notes and then lastly, a locket. You could feel the sadness in the air and you could feel it waft off Angel.

There was no way you could understand and you weren't sure you could ask, yet at the same time you wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible, “Are these yours?” You asked him.

“Hm?” You noticed Angel sniffle slightly and rub one of his hands under his eyes, “Oh, yeah. It’s mine and my sister’s,” Oh yes, that’s right, he lived in this house at one point. He dove a hand inside the tin box and quickly scooped up the locket. He popped it open and you could see the small picture of a family. A father, a mother, two sons and a daughter. You squinted hard and saw noticeable features, the freckles, the grin, the way his hair was cut and shaped. It was Angel- and this was his family.

You felt a strong wave of sympathy was over you. The second you felt that Angel snapped the locket closed and gave you a look, “Did you take that Xan? Girl, control yourself. I don’t want your pitty-” A loud crash cut Angel off as the entire house shifted, followed by two more heavy bangs from above. The demon hunters. You shared a look with Angel and your fear leaked into him. He used a free hand and picked up the baggie of pills, shoving it back towards you, “No one is going to be able to fight off those hunters if you’re making everyone scared. And they have magic to protect them for your emotions. Normally I don’t force people to do things unless they pay me, so fucking take the Xans, babe!”

He had a point, and you didn’t know how to control your new powers yet. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out. You couldn’t stop the guilt from waving off you as you swallowed down the pill dry. You managed to make your way over to the window and you peered outside. Alastor was gone and you felt fear cling to your skin. You had to hold back a yelp when you heard gunshots from above.

“Ah- Fuck!” You looked at Angel and he had a gun of his own, where did he even get that? You couldn’t stop him as you watched him fire bullets into the ceiling. He shot out a perfect circle as he destroyed the ceiling and roof above. Within a second you saw a swarm of blue glowing orbs take over the sky. Angel didn’t hesitate to take one large leap and join the battle. You didn’t even get a chance to say anything, and then you were all alone.

You were unsure of what you should do. You were too scared to fight back and you didn’t want to hurt anyone... The house was beginning to shake and shift, even more, you were getting ready for it to collapse when that familiar sound of close range thunder filled your ears. Alastor appeared behind you, you looked over yand found him carrying Angel over his shoulder, who didn’t seem very pleased to be there either.

“Time to go!” Alastor smiled at you as he suddenly grabbed your hand as a swirling portal opened before your eyes. You didn’t have time to react, you couldn’t even protest as Alastor jumped through the portal and yanked you along with him. From the cold and shaken air of the house, you were met with a hot, burning and even humid heat as you passed through the gates of the portal. Your stomach threw itself into your throat then dropped with a deep throb as your feet slapped onto the ground underneath you.

It took a second to long for your eyes to adjust to the darkness around you. Confused and squinting to see, you found several pairs of eyes staring back at you. A none of them looked remotely human. You found yourself inside some kind of…place? You couldn’t be sure at all, it looked like a rundown hotel but there were way too many pictures of the same family hanging on every inch of every wall, “What… Is this place?” You breathed every word out softly, looking around until your eyes fell onto Charlie.

She looked like she was about to say something, but Vaggie quickly stepped in, “Why did you bring her here?” She was looking at Alastor.

He had dropped Angel and cleaned off the shoulder he was holding him on. His smile wavered as he said, “I didn’t have much of a choice, look at her! A beauty, I know, but she dosen’t seem human anymore!”

“You don’t know that!” Vaggie went on, “She’s still alive regardless, she can’t be here, Alastor! She’s not dead yet, and I won’t let you trap her here until she can die!” You were going to die? You looked between Vaggie and Alastor, watching the two glare at each other until Alastor started to shift his weight from one leg to the other. As he did that, you noticed his whole body begin to shiver and shake as his eyes rolled back. His body fell out from under him and he collapsed into the pool of blood he’d been standing in.

“Ewh!” Charlie quickly made a sound of disgust, “Someone close his eyes!” You even flinched away from the horrible sight of Alastor, passed out on the ground with his eyes still wide open, “Why does he have to sleep like that?” Charlie whined on.

You watched as Angel did the dirty work. He closed Alastor’s eyes and picked up his limp body like he was some kind of rag doll. You could feel the Xanax you took early started to affect your body. You felt like you should have been panicking, scared even, but all you could do is ask in a shallow voice, “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” Angel said, “For now. He’s just gonna sleep like a rock until his body’s healed itself back up. We should take him to his room- and you shouldn’t be here,” His words ended with a sharper tone. It sounded as if Angel was holding something against you, but you couldn’t guess what.

Your silent confusion was answered by Vaggie, “The living do not last very long down here,” She explained, “Lucifer- Charlie’s Dad, can help you get back to Earth-” “No!” You cut her off, “It’s… It’s okay. I feel like I should stay,” You looked over towards Alastor’s broken body hanging over Angel’s shoulder, “He got hurt because of me. It’s my fault he’s like this, I should at least stay until he wakes up,”

“Are you sure?” Vaggie asked while trying to approach you, she held a hand out as if she wanted to comfort you, but… she seemed hesitant and even fearful to touch you, “A living soul only has three days to escape hell or be doomed to stay here forever. And there is no telling when Alastor will wake up, a demon only sleeps like this when they have to heal their body. And-... Alastor has taken months to heal at his worst.”

“I’m sure,” You nodded slightly, “I can watch over him at least for today. I feel like I should- If I hadn’t-... It’s my fault he’s like this and it’s my fault you guys were attacked. This is the least I can do to make up for it.” You watched Vaggie share a concerned look with Charlie, but neither of them could find a reason to tell you no.

“Come on,” You looked over your shoulder and saw Angel already climbing the grand staircase of this rundown hotel. The Princess waved you off, even Vaggie gave you some kind of small smile and waved as you spun around and raced to catch up with Angel.

You followed beside him as he led you up staircase after staircase, down a set of halls, then another staircase. You could have gotten really lost if it wasn’t for him. You kept looking at Alastor too, dangling there like dead weight, “Is he really going to be okay?” You asked.

Angel kept his gaze ahead as he spoke, “I promise, CB, he’s gonna be fine,”

“CB?” You hesitantly asked.

“Crybaby,” Oh, “You really can’t remember a god damn thing, can you?” You shook your head and watched as Angel chuckled, “I didn’t think you had it in ya,” He said, “You really are full of surprises, ya know that?”

You matched his weak laughter, “I wish I did. This shit is… This whole demon thing? Hell? I mean,” You paused and laughed, “I guess it’s good to know there is something after death, haha,” You even smiled a little bit, “I didn’t believe in ghosts, or heaven or hell… Or god… Is there a god?”

“The fuck if I know!” Angel laughed, “If there is a god, they don’t care about us. For all I know, the angels rule over heaven and god is dead.”

That was a bleak look on things, but somehow it felt like the right thing to say. You were in hell after all, with this demon body and a past lover who didn’t want to let you go. You were numb to the shock of everything and eerily calm, perhaps that was because the Xanax was leaking into your blood and mind. But that didn’t stop the questions racing through your brain like stock cars around a speedway.

“How long have you been down here?” You innocently asked while simultaneously dodging your gaze way from Angel’s own stare.

“Long enough,” He retorted quickly, “Not as long as as you, or him,” Angel shrugged his shoulder and adjusted Alastor’s broken body, shifting his weight around as he walked up a flight of stairs. How many more of these things did you have to climb?

The hallways grew longer, darker, and void of any signs of life. Windows were blocked by heavy closed curtains while cobwebs collected in the free spaces between them. You gazed at Alastor’s bloody face that already seemed to be healing. His open wounds had scabbed over, but blood still stained his skin and clothes.

“What about him?” You nodded your head towards Alastor as you looked up at Angel, “Are you guys friends?”

Nothing could stop the quick and cold, “Ha!” That came from Angel’s chest, “More like- Business partners? Nah- No. Associates? We sure aren’t friends. Before you left, you were the only reason we had common ground, after that we went right back to hating each other.”

“I’m starting to find that a lot of people don’t like Alastor. I’m starting to think he’s just out to mess with my head then kill me or something,” Your voice sounded somber, shallow and it made Angel’s entire attitude spin around in the opposite direction.

His features softened only slightly, “Don’t doubt him when he says he loves you,” Angel’s voice wavered slightly, making it sound like he was holding more sour words in the back of his throat, but he spoke on, “I hate the guy, he’s a fucking creep and an old bag of shit but,” He paused while looking away, staring into a memory you couldn’t see, “Alastor would do anything for you. Everyone knows how head over heels he is. He’s a shitty fucking person but I hate to admit it, he was a good husband to you. In fact,” You watched Angel’s face light up slightly and his eyes flash with a light from within, “The only time we ever got along was when he needed my help to make you happy,” He trailed off into a soft chuckle, “This dumb bitch came to me once after you got sucked back into that-- what was that castle called? Castle Keep! That was the castle at the gates of hell where yo-”

“Where I was trapped every six years?” You stared up at Angel with a faint smile, enjoying the surprised look on his face, “Yeah, I’ve heard a lot about it, I guess I really hated that place?”

“Hell fucking yeah you did,” Angel laughed, “But yeah- like I was saying, Alastor always had the hardest time asking me for help and he’d only do it as a last resort. This dumb ass really loved you and got me to help him throw this huge party for you with all of our friends from the hotel and anyone who had twenty bucks for admissions, haha! Shit man, that was the best party ever.”

You wanted to press on and ask about it but Angel had finally stopped walking. There you had found yourself in front of a regular old door. Nothing about it stuck or or made it particularly rememberable. You watched Angel push open the door with ease as it opened up into a dark room void of any light. Little stain glass lamps provided barely any light within the room for you to see.

Hesitantly, you followed after Angel while watching him carelessly toss Alastor’s body onto his bed in the least graceful way possible.

“Alright, that’s it for my community service,” Angel brushed his hands together and cleared away the microscopic dirt on his gloves. He headed towards the door then gave a wave of two of his many hands, “If you need anything, don’t bother asking me,” He laughed sinisterly then made his way out of the door, “Oh, and try and not get yourself killed,” Angel winked at you with a grin, “Or you’ll be stuck here for just about forever and the rest of time!” He slammed the door behind him, loud enough for you to wince, leaving you alone, in the dark void of Alastor’s room.

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petri808 · 4 years

Text

Bleak in the Light of Hope

@twinstarsweek summer storm/injury

“Fucking remind me why the fuck were out here in a goddamn typhoon?!”

“Kacchan, it’s part of our job to help people no matter what.”

“Shut the fuck up Deku, I didn’t ask your opinion. If people are stupid enough not to prepare it ain’t my problem.”

The blonde wasn’t wrong in a way. Unlike a tsunami, typhoon’s came with an advanced warning thanks to weather tracking. But while scientists had predicted when it would reach Japan, they hadn’t expected it to turn and hit Tokyo directly or strengthen into a category 4 typhoon by the time it did. Most of the modern buildings would weather the storm fine, but Japan was full of older buildings scattered throughout the city that couldn’t.

Toss into the mix flooding from the sheer volume of rain, broken gas lines triggering outbreaks of fires, and storm surges battering the coasts, the pro heroes had their hands full. So, the students were brought in to assist, told first to check on their families, then jump in and help wherever they were needed.

“Can we just focus Kacchan! I don’t wanna be here anymore than you do!” After helping secure their parents residences in Musutafu, the pair were unwillingly stuck in the same area of Shizuoka prefecture together.

Cries for help were coming in from all around them. Be it elderly individuals who weren’t able to secure windows, to restaurants who’s gas lines broke and needed to be shut down. Older style homes with heavy tile roofing became projectiles in the 140 mph winds. It was like a war zone with nature on one side and humans on the other.

The pair had taken shelter in an older warehouse type building. It was clear of people, so they took the opportunity to reassess what to do next. Outside, the winds sounded like a freight train ripping along the tracks. The sealed-up building shook and trembled as the pressure inside mounted. This was bad, like really bad. Izuku was growing worried that something would have to give.

“Do you feel that?” His eyes constantly flicking back and forth around the space. “We should get moving,” Izuku prompts his friend. The pressure change inside the building was palpable.

“This place seems strong enough to hold out, so why the fuck we gotta go back out there?! Do you not realize how strong that wind is?!”

“Kacchan, it’s…”

Loud explosions and massive popping sounds ricochet in a domino effect all around them. They have no time to react when the pressure built up inside the building finally implodes. The men dive for cover as the walls and roof collapse in on them. It was all they could do.

By the time Katsuki wakes up and realizes the situation they’d landed in, the pair were pinned down with minimal room to move. It was pitch black and dust filled his lungs from all the debris floating in the air. He starts to cough when he hears a moaning sound close by. “Deku?!”

“Ka—cchan…”

Oh, shit that didn’t sound good! He takes out his phone from his pocket and turns on the flashlight option. ‘Hell, yeah it still works!’ They were trapped under a large slab of concrete, possibly a fallen floor from above them. It was kept propped by even more broken concrete and twisted metal beams. As far as Katsuki could assess, he could sit up but not stand, and to move he would have to crawl.

He gets on his hands and knees. “Deku talk to me!”

“H-Hurts… Kacchan…”

The blonde follows the sound of his friends voice a few feet until the outline of the man’s red shoes comes into view. Katsuki crawls faster. “Can you move?!”

“No.”

Fuck. When he reaches Izuku his heart drops as his eyes fall on the piece of rebar sticking out of the man’s arm and a small pool of blood underneath it. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” He needed to get the bar out and stop the bleeding. Katsuki sits beside the man, scanning and calculating just how in the hell was he supposed to do just that.

“Kacchan, just leave me, get out if you can before anything else decides to go.”

“Shut the fuck up, Deku! I ain’t fucking leaving you here dumbass!”

Precious seconds were passing by as the blonde assessed the situation. He had an idea but wasn’t sure if he could actually pull it off. If he could control the explosion in a precise manner and split the rebar into two pieces, he could pull out the part that pinning Izuku’s arm.

“This is gonna hurt so, I don’t know, fucking bite down hard and look away.”

Katsuki holds the rebar between his palms, both applying pressure in a downward trajectory to keep it from moving as well as to create a vacuum space in his hands. He focuses deeper than he’s ever done before, knowing that any miscalculation could result in causing another collapse or blowing his friends arm off. “I’m gonna start counting down from three.” He talks out loud so Izuku knows what’s going on.

Taking a slow, deep breath Katsuki begins.

And on the count of one releases a powerful, pinpoint explosion against the half inch diameter piece of rebar. The loud bang echoes painfully in their confines and rattles the surrounding structure. Katsuki stiffens for a moment, bracing himself for the worst-case scenario, but luckily the vibrations only kicked up dust and the fallen structure holds.

He slowly releases his hands from the superheated metal. It was snapped! The top portion remained stuck in the concrete above them, but now he could remove the piece still in Izuku. “I’m gonna pull it out, are you ready?”

“No, just hurry up.”

This time, Katsuki uses his knees to hold down Izuku’s arm, one on each side around the bar. He then takes hold of the rebar with both hands. “Brace!” He cries out as he yanks as quickly as he can.

Izuku’s high-pitched scream blasts the space, but Katsuki wasn’t finished. He immediately turns the bar over and takes the end that he’d just broken off that was still hot and sticks it into the man’s wounds to cauterize it. The blonde flinches as his friend’s body reacts, trying to flail from the pain. He holds steady with his legs, counting the seconds. One second, two second, check the wound. Two more seconds, finally the bleeding looked like it had stopped.

Katsuki drops the broken rebar to the side, gets off his friends arm, and slumps back, releasing the air he didn’t realize he’d been holding in. After a few seconds of silence, “You still alive, Deku?”

“Barely. Thank you Kacchan f-for doing that.”

The man’s voice was weak and Katsuki didn’t like that at all. He grabs Izuku’s hand and squeezes, “well, don’t you dare die on me nerd. I ain’t about to be pulling a dead body out of here.”

“I’ll do my best,” Izuku croaks back.

Their situation was still dire, and the blonde knew it. His friend had lost a lot of blood and that alone could send the man into shock. He need to get them out of there, but he couldn’t see a way out. The rubble was packed so densely, it wasn’t allowing even the tiniest sliver of light through. Everyone was probably still in the midst of the typhoon efforts and here they were, now the victims needing saving. Katsuki texts Eijiro and Uraraka hoping they would answer, giving their approximate location. Both classmates answers immediately that they were on their way, but it would take them about at least an hour since they were in different prefectures.

With nothing more he can do about their situation the blonde lays down next to his friend. He was mentally and physically exhausted, ready to take a nice hot shower and crash. It was also awkward being there in the dark, silent space with the sound of the hurricane winds and rains still battering outside with occasional creaks and groans from what was left of this building. Guess the void they were stuck in did have one plus point. It kept the weather away.

They pass the time in silence which unless he were to check his phone, Katsuki couldn’t tell how long it really was. To him it felt like forever, waiting, the sounds around them made eerier in the darkness. It gave too much time for his mind to wander into territories he’d long avoided. Or maybe it was the fact, he could have lost his childhood friend that tormented him. Such a notion churned his stomach more than he wanted to admit, but what if instead of the rebar… no, he didn’t want to think about it.

Katsuki reaches out and takes hold of Izuku’s hand.

“Kacchan?”

“Shhh! Don’t speak!” To talk about it would have to make it real despite the fact it was actually happening; the why of holding Izuku’s hand. It felt so weird and wonderful at the same time to hold his friend’s hand. Intimacy without acknowledging it. “J-Just squeeze my hand once in a while so I know you’re still awake.”

Almost understanding his turmoil, Izuku could feel a slight tremble coming off of his friend, and the choked tone of his words. His heart knew the hothead cared even if he rarely showed it and if the situation were reversed, he would be struggling to keep it together. He squeezes his hand back and leaves the topic alone, content to simply have his friend by his side. “Okay, Kacchan…”

#bakudeku #twin stars week 2020 #summer storm/injury #katsudeku #bkdk #Bakugou katsuki #Midoriya izuku #bnha #Katsuki bakugou #Izuku midoriya #bakudeku fan fiction #bakudeku fan fic

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kerwritesthings · 5 years

Text

The Exquisite Taste of Love

Summary: Everyone’s love language is different and special, getting to share that with the one who you call your heart is something else entirely

Word Count: almost 5.2k (Oops? But not really!)

Warning: tooth rotting sweetness, a touch of naughty and a whole lotta of love

Author Notes: What started out as inspiration from a gif, because the muse likes her pretty, evolved into the idea of a cute little Valentine’s Day blurb which then morphed into a bit of a love letter to the folks in this crazy corner of fandom who have been my biggest cheerleaders when it has come to my writing, with such open arms and friendship. My Valentine’s Day gift to them (and even to the rest of you) – but specially for @whenidance, @parkerdavis, @sinplisticshawn, @fallinallincurls, @illumecherry, @hollandraul - y’all will notice little special fun in here for each and every one of you. My little love language gifts to you <3

This, as always, falls again in line with this little world I’ve created, but again can be read as a stand-alone one shot piece, however I would recommend taking a read so you understand the build and the dynamics – the masterlist of everything can be found here.

“Can we do a baking night, like a date night?” he inquires, slinging himself against your back and nuzzling into your neck as you finish packing the cookies scattered across the kitchen island into Tupperware. You tried to get a jump on it this year, it’s your tradition to always gift your friends and family little homemade treats for Valentine’s Day. This year, you included adding in plans for special batches for some of Shawn’s team and his family, as well as a surprise for Shawn himself. Tonight’s adventure was for the folks whose items must hit the mail to get their treats in time.

“Wait, did I hear you right?” you giggle. “You, you’re asking to do something in the kitchen? By choice? That has nothing to do with trying to mix drinks?”

“Hey,” he whines, drawing out the y, licking sloppily at the side of your neck. “Can’t get better if I don’t try to learn right? And this is fun stuff, not like chicken or broccoli or pasta.”

“Baking is a lot more precise though than cooking. You need to follow recipes and instructions down to a tee,” you explain. “But you’re right, you won’t get better without trying it more. We’ll start with something a little on the easier side. I was going to do salted caramel cheesecake brownies and chocolate covered strawberries for your family to drop off on Friday. We can make them together.”

“Yay,” he replies, blowing a raspberry against your skin. “What else do you have to do?”

“Nothing else tonight thank goodness, these baby Linzer tarts and chocolate cherry truffles were enough,” you tell him as you package up the last of the chocolates. “I still need to make chocolate pretzel drops and spritz cookies for my office. The boys are going to get the crazy squares they inhaled the last time they were here, so I’m going make those for them. Need to figure out what to send the rest of your out of town contingent. Maybe Nanaimo bars. I may have something up my sleeve for you too, but you will have to wait and see on that.”

He shifts you about in his hold, pressing you into the back of the island before kissing you soundly. “I love that all my folks are now tangled up in your traditions, especially when they don’t need to be.”

“Of course, they do,” you state so matter of factly with a smile. “They’re a part of my life now too. You love them, so. Hell, I even have come to love some of them, despite me questioning why on a few.”

He laughs, swinging you around in his arms before sitting you down on the island before cupping your cheeks. The next thing you know, he’s kissing you again, “I love you. Now let’s plan out the next couple days of your crazy baking adventures.”

The next night while he’s locked away in the studio, Skype session with some of the LA crew you think, you at least get the dough made for the spritz cookies, settling in the fridge to chill, and the crazy squares done for his friends here at home. You’re elbows deep in coconut shortbread when you hear him padding down the hall.

“Ok whatever that it, it smells amazing. Coconut, vanilla and what else is in that?” he asks, hopping on the counter behind you. His long legs start swinging and his socked heels tapping against the cabinets like he’s a child.

“These my dear, are the Nanaimo bars. Or at least my version,” you explain, pushing your hair back off your face with your forearm not to get dough all over the place. “More coconut, vanilla and caramel than chocolate. It’s a coconut vanilla shortbread base, it’ll have a vanilla bean studded caramel custard in the middle. That’s in the fridge already, then I’ll do a chocolate caramel coconut topping for them. Figure little taste of Canada to send out to the rest of your folks.”

“I have no idea how you do it, but it looks and smells yummy. Think we can find candles that smell like this somewhere? That’s a scent I could get used to around here. Could sneak one on the road too, have for when I’m missing you,” he replies, poking his nose in some of the new Tupperware you have on the back counter by him. “What are these? They smell different, they’re not that.”

“Those are the crazy squares. It’s basically like a kitchen sink cookie, but in bar form. And since your friends are human garbage disposals when it comes to eating, I think it’s a good choice,” you get out through a laugh. “Oatmeal, chocolate chips, pretzels, potato chips, peanut butter and a little bit of toffee.”

“My little baking machine,” he comments with a tiny grin, stealing a small bar from the container he was sniffing in. “Damn, these are really good.”

“Shawn,” you yell, flicking the towel that was over your shoulder at his knee. “Those are gifts! No eating the presents. You’ll get your own treats.”

“’M sorry, but not really,” he mumbles through a mouth full of crazy square. “Ooh! We need cards to go with these.”

“What? No, baby we don’t,” you try to explain. “The gift is the goodies.”

“Nope. Cards. Have to,” he says, hopping down from the counter then hip bumping you. “At least for my parents, my sister, and then of course Didi and Tomas too. Maybe a stupid one for Cez to make him laugh.”

He drops a kiss to the tip of your nose, “I’ll handle it. Where did you stash all that extra craft stuff from when you had the A and all her girls over? The fancy scissors and all the paper?”

You have no idea what he’s up to, but you know you’re not going to be able to get him off this train. “Clear bin. Guest room closet, right hand side,” you describe. “Should be the one right on top.”

He scurries off and you just have to roll your eyes, biting back the giggle bubbling up. He’s such a softie. You love it, despite your reticence on his need for cards.

While you finish off the trays of bars, get the spritz cookies in the oven and start the chocolate pretzel drops, he’s stationing himself in the living room cross-legged in front of the coffee table. He’s awfully quiet, minus a hum here and there. You only hear the shuffling of papers and the click swish from scissors. You decide to let him be and have his fun, it gives you the time to finish off more than you were planning for the night.

When you’re done, you come out to a living room that’s just exploding with cut out hearts, but no Shawn. There’s a chain of them hanging from around the television, scattered piles over every table like confetti, a few bigger ones at the center of the coffee table in front of the couch.

“So, I may have been a little sneaky,” he confesses from behind you, arm wrapping around your hips to draw you towards him. “I made a few to use as cards but I wanted to do something a little randomly special for you early, since you’re doing all this baking for everyone when you really don’t have to.”

“You are such a squish Shawn,” you whisper, before leaning your head back on his shoulder. “It’s adorable. I love it. Thank you, sweetie.”

“Love you,” he murmurs into your hair.

There’s a massive vase of white roses and jasmine when you walk into the house the next night after work, sitting smack in the middle of the kitchen island, another cut out heart, this one bubble gum pink with silver writing on it, propped up against it.

So you can take the time to smell the roses, and the jasmine too. Can’t wait to bake with you later. Be home by 7 – xo S

“What is he up to now?” you mutter to yourself, not hearing anything in the condo other than the click of your heels on the kitchen tile floor. You find another bouquet in the living room, a smaller version in your bedroom on your bedside table, a new jasmine candle in your bathroom next to a tiny glass holding a fresh sprig of jasmine along with a tiny white rosebud and even a little spray of them on your desk in the guest room that doubles as your home office. You should be getting everything ready in the kitchen for the big bake, but you sit on the end of the bed needing a minute. You pick up the phone.

“What’s wrong?” Didi responds quickly. “You never call unless something’s wrong. Wait, did he propose finally? Is there a ring? You’re not pregnant, are you? Shit girl I told you...”

“Damnit Dee. No, breathe,” you try breaking through on your best friend’s babble. “There is definitely not a baby. Shit’s sake. Not doing things reverse order. Plus, there’s new album and tour and life. So no, not that. And. When there’s a ring, it’ll be a FaceTime, not a phone call. He just. Last night it was cut out hearts everywhere. Today, I come home. The condo’s filled with white roses and jasmine. Everywhere.”

It’s quiet for a moment. “You cry yet?” she asks softly.

“No,” you sniff. “Close though. I think I only mentioned this once. Of course, he remembers and then goes and does something like this.”

“He’s your person, girly,” Didi replies. “And a mushy lovey fucker for you at that.”

Your best friend is right. He is. “Thanks D, I needed this. I gotta go though I’m sorry. I’m attempting to teach him brownie baking tonight. I still need to change and get everything ready before he’s back at 7. I’ll text you.”

Quickly you throw yourself together as best as you could, changing and pulling everything you need to together along with moving the flowers in the kitchen to the living room. You’re rinsing off the strawberries when you hear his keys hit the lock.

“In the kitchen,” you call out when the door shuts.

“Good day?” he asks, head leaning in to place a kiss against your shoulder, his lips cold against your skin exposed by your tank top.

“Better when I got home,” you reply, leaning your head against his still pressing against you. “You’re a crazy boy, and I don’t even know how to say thank you for it. They’re beautiful. All of them.”

He kisses your shoulder again, before shifting to trail his lips up your neck, nibbling at your ear before a lingering kiss to your cheek. “Love you is all,” he states casually. “Let me change and then I’ll be back in for my lesson.”

While he’s gone, you decide to get the strawberries out of the way first. Brownies will be the more complicated of the two, so to start easier will be a good idea. He comes back in as you’re breaking up the chocolate bars into a large glass bowl.

“Chocolate covered strawberries first,” you begin. “They’re the less difficult of what’s on the agenda and we should get them dipped and set in the fridge before the oven gets on and warms the kitchen. Normally I’d melt and temper the chocolate over a double boiler, but not fussing with that tonight. It’s breaking it up, adding a little bit of oil and melting it in the microwave. Then we just dip away. I’ll finish on the milk, why don’t you get started on either the dark or the white, then I’ll do the other when I’m done.”

The both of you find a rhythm, breaking and chatting, sneaking in a kiss here or a prolonged touch there while you get the chocolate ready.

“Now, that those are melted. We pat the strawberry dry to make sure the chocolate will stick,” you explain, showing him the first one. “Hold it closer to the end of the stem and swirl, leave a little bit showing and let it drip the extra chocolate off, then place it down on the wax paper. Once they’re all dipped, we can drizzle another color chocolate over it with what’s left.”

“This isn’t so bad,” he declares after a few rows of berries are done. “Though, I think I know a way to make this a little more fun.”

He dips his finger around the edge of the bowl with the dark chocolate, pulling some off the glass. He eyes you carefully, crooking the chocolate covered finger at you.

“Shawn,” you question.

“C’mere,” he requests. You move slowly over, his non chocolate covered hand grabbing a strong hold against the curve of your hip. He takes the chocolate laden finger, tracing your bottom lip first, then the dip between your collarbones, chocolate sticking carefully against your skin.

“Dessert before dinner, yum,” he whispers, a breath from your lips before sinking into them. Licking his way into your mouth, you can’t help but slide your hands into his hair and moan. It was dirty and deep from the start, but when you flick your tongue against his, you feel his grip on your hip tighten even more.

He breaks from you first, trailing his lips down your cheek, across your neck to latch onto your collarbone and the chocolate he left there. You don’t want him to leave a mark, but secretly, you’re hoping he does.

“Baby,” you whine, hands gripping at his hair harder as he bites and sucks along the line of your bone. At this rate you’re going to be so bruised. He nips his way back up your neck before sipping at your lips again, leaving you breathless.

“Mmm, well you’re quite delicious, I think like this baking thing,” he grins like a cat who got the cream.

“It’ll be my turn soon, don’t you worry,” you proclaim, trying to stir the rest of the chocolate back to life. “Let’s finish these off before the chocolate starts gets too firm.”

He slides behind you, leaning in flush against your back, “I could make a really bad joke here, you know.”

You feel him, half hard and snug against your ass.

“Baking, Shawn. We’re baking,” you remind him with a sigh, while arching back to tease him. “You’re the one who asked for a baking date night. There will be more of that after if you’re lucky and you behave.”

He bites at your earlobe, grinding into you once. “Can we keep some chocolate for later then?”

You push back at him, “Says the one who isn’t always keen on chocolate.”

“But it’s chocolate off you, it automatically tastes better and makes me want more of it,” he proclaims with a cheeky smile, sliding over to the sink to wash his hands.

You make quick work of the last of the berries, getting the trays into the fridge so you can finally get going on the brownies.

“Salted caramel cheesecake brownies next,” you say as you pull the bricks of cream cheese from the fridge and the blocks of butter off the back counter. “Two different batters, but they’re both pretty easy. We start with the brownie batter first, then whip the cheesecake batter, swirl the dulce de leche through that, then swirl that into the brownie batter. Drizzle it all with a little more caramel, then sprinkle on some flaky sea salt before popping them into the oven.”

“It’s unfair how you make it sound so simple and easy,” he notes, watching you measure out cocoa powder. “I see that recipe and it’s like 38 steps long.”

“Not that many. Come over here, I promise let me show you, it’s not hard,” you slide your arm through his to pull him closer.

“That’s what she said,” he quips, poking at your side. The two of you plug away step by step, first on the brownie mixture, before starting in on the cheesecake. While you trust Shawn to continue keeping an eye on the whipping cream cheese in the stand mixer, you break out the jar of dulce de leche you’ve had warming slowly in a warm pan of water on the stove.

“Now that it’s done, and once this is a little cooler, we’ll drizzle some of this in there to make a ribbon through it before adding it into the pan with the brownie batter,” you describe, popping the lid carefully off.

You dip your pinkie into the warm sugary syrup, “Mmm liquid gold. This is perfect.”

Shawn snags your hand before you get a chance to wipe it on the towel, popping your pinkie into his mouth.

“Damnit Shawn,” you husk out as he works at your finger with his tongue. While he’s preoccupied, you quickly poke another finger from your left hand into the jar. Payback, you think, is a bitch. You slide your pointer finger down the line of his jaw before taking it down the line of his neck. His eye pop open and grow wide, sliding your finger free.

You don’t give him a chance to say a word, latching onto his jaw. His hands grasp you immediately, one lacing around the back of your head to hold you to him, the other square on your ass. You take your time, just as he did earlier, licking and nibbling your way through the sweet caramel until you hit his skin.

“Sweetheart,” he moans, almost bordering on a growl, when you hit that spot on his neck that drives him crazy. The hand on your ass draws you closer to him, sliding his thigh between your legs. You keep at that spot, you know there’s nothing coming up so if you do mark him up, which you want to do badly, there’s no real repercussions.

“Shit, baby,” he whines, needy and desperate as you keep up your assault on his neck. You make quick work on the rest of the dulce, sliding right back up to exactly where you know you can get him keening. Kitten licks at first, then tiny bites soothed by a bit of sucking. You keep the pattern up for a few passes, his skin warm under your tongue, warm until you know they’ll be a bit of a reminder tomorrow.

“Fuck,” he bites out, drawing you up and away from his neck to bring you up to meet his eyes.

“Something wicked this way comes,” you smirk, licking at your lips.

He dives for your mouth, hot and hard and fast until you’re both out of breath.

“Now, think we can keep our hands to ourselves to get these in the oven?” you pant. “And when your mother asks how we made these together, we do not tell her about the soft-core porn action in the kitchen.”

He kisses you sweetly, softly, “I think it would be a fun story though.”

You roll your eyes, pushing at his chest, “Brownies, swirling, salting and into the oven. C’mon.”

You both manage to keep your hands, and your lips, to yourself for the rest of the process. You cannot help but chuckle, watching him salt the brownies ever so carefully. “It’s like icy snow,” he proclaims, grinning like a little kid.

Once in the oven, you split clean up duty and then start to pack up the berries off the trays.

“I feel bad that I can’t go with you to drop this all off tomorrow, but there’s no way I can duck out early enough,” you lament, shifting the berries about to make sure they’re not going to be smushed in transport.

“The fact you made all this for them, from scratch no less, is more than enough,” he insists. “I normally just send flowers. Which I’m still doing for both of them. This is just over the top extra awesome.”

You can’t help but smile, “They’re my family now too. Well, close enough you know? I love them…”

He wraps you in a hug, “I love that you consider them yours, cause they are. Absolutely, they’re your family. Now, let’s finish this and go cuddle on the couch until the brownies are done.”

Before leaving for the office, with Shawn still cozy in bed asleep since you’re up a good deal earlier than normal today, you slip out the red box you’ve had hidden in the back of the pantry out onto the kitchen counter. Inside, a few smaller red containers, filled with his treat surprises for the day.

You steal one of the blank hearts from the dining room table, a white one, for a note.

For my darling, the first of a few surprises for you today. Despite your recent affection for chocolate, here’s a little something to start your day. Through the day you’ll find little things here and there, just small little sweets that I know you adore, maybe as much as me. Because my heart, you have mine and I want to spoil you a little today. Love you valentine xo <3

You prop the note against one of the larger containers, this a perfect square. The first time you ever made him your lemon lime scones, it was one of first nights you stayed over. He waxed poetic about them for days. You knew they had to be a part of his treat trail today. This time though in a mini version. The second box, a smaller thinner one, you slide into his guitar case, filled with rolls of homemade strawberry fruit leathers. A third box, shortbread thumbprints with sour cherry jam, you place in his studio by his journal. The fourth, in a tin on top of the corner chair in the living room where he leaves one of his guitars out always, most difficult of the treats you made for him - tequila laced gummy bears. The final, and a last minute addition made last night when he was half dozy on the couch and thought you were boxing the brownies, a few chocolate covered caramels that you leave by his keys at the front table as a nod to last night’s funtivities.

You grab the bag filled with the baked treats for your office and head out the door. When you finally arrive at your office, a few minutes late because of your hiding duties at home and setting up your treats for the team in the kitchen, you’re greeted by a bouquet of blush peonies and antique roses.

“Came in just a few minutes ago,” Rosalie, the office receptionist tinkers gleefully, peeking her head into your office. “Do we get to see that boy of yours today? That would be a lovely Valentine’s Day treat.”

Rosalie, who is old enough to be your grandmother but has the energy level of a teenager, absolutely adores Shawn. They’re thick as thieves, getting along together immediately. She mothers the heck out of him when he comes to see you, helps him sneak things into your office, the two of them gang up on you to make sure you’re fed and hydrated when you’re pulling late hours, and is an absolute godsend when you work remote if you’re out on the road with him.

“Not sure,” you smile, smelling one of the blooms. “I know he’s heading out to Pickering at some point to see his family. Not sure what he’s got up his sleeve or has plans on for later. I’m being surprised. Best not poke at him and ruin whatever he’s got going.”

“Just let him know his smiling face is missed around here ok?” she nods, heading back towards her desk.

You snap a quick photo of the flowers and fire off a text – Happy Valentine’s Day indeed. They’re so pretty, thank you! <3 ilu :) xo

You’re knee deep in trying to clean out your inbox when your phone chimes. A selfie, his bed head in full force and he’s smiling around one of the scones in his mouth. Omg you made me the Sprite scones! AND THEY ARE TINY BABY SIZED ONES I CAN FIT IN MY MOUTH ALL AT ONCE! Followed by alternating string of lemon, soda cup, green and yellow heart emojis.

He finds the thumbprints next, a photo of a cookie next to him giving you a thumbs up, more emojis again this time alternating the cherries, red lips and red heart. Where did you find the sour cherry jam? I haven’t been able to find it anywhere. OR DID YOU MAKE THIS TOO?!

Immediately after was a boomerang, the tin of strawberry fruit rolls, rocking and rolling back and forth. Followed by strawberry emojis between kissy face smileys. These taste exactly like you do after we go strawberry picking in the spring and you sneak berries along the way when you think no one is looking. But I always am.

It takes a little longer for the next find. You’re in the middle of a conference call when your phone starts buzzing. A gif of a worm with a sombrero on, tipping back on a bottle of tequila. How the hell did you make me seriously boozy af gummy bears? They’re as big as my thumb! I can’t have these before heading out to the ‘rents. I’m drunk already from just smelling them.

You have to mute your line and laugh heartily. This right here made it all worth it. His reactions are priceless. You’re so glad the little surprises are making him this silly happy.

The next one, about half an hour later, is a voice memo.

“You sneaky, naughty little minx,” he husks out, voice deep. “Chocolate caramels. You knew exactly what I’d think of, didn’t you? I’m in the car trying to get out and through downtown, but now all I can think about since finding them are your breathy little moans, your hands in my hair and your mouth at my throat. Fuck baby, you definitely left the best for last. I snuck them in the car to have one on the ride, but there’s no way I can even try one now.” He pauses for a beat; a hard sigh escapes his lips. “Just you wait until later. Now, I need to get out of this tangle you’ve got me in before I get home to my parents. I’ll be back by the time you get home from work. I love you sweetheart.”

Thank god you didn’t put that on speakerphone. He sounded like pure wicked sin, plain and simple. He’s got you in knots now too. You just need to get through the rest of the day in one piece. Thankfully, your boss kicks the entire office out early, partially because of her own plans, and partially because of the long weekend stateside. You’ll take it. Hopefully you can beat Shawn home to be able to maybe shower and change before he gets back.

A cute video comes through as you walk out of the office, from his sister. “First off, I’m mad at Shawn for not bringing you with, but then he said you had work. So, I let it slide. A little at least. Then he let us open the goodies. You made all our favorites! You’re the best. Please come visit, or let’s plan another girls’ night and we’ll kick him out of the condo! Wait wait, hold on. Someone else wants to say thanks!” She pans her phone to the kitchen and flips the camera around. “Sweetie, thank you so much for all the treats. You will need to send me the recipe for the brownies, they’re delicious. I still don’t believe Shawn helped you with all this, if that’s the case, congratulations for getting him in the kitchen willingly. And without disaster, I hope at the very least. I’m hiding some so maybe there’s still some left when Manny makes it home. Let’s figure out dinner all of us together next week. Love you!”

Warmth spreads through you as you navigate your way back home after that one. You’re floating at this point. However, you did not luck out in beating him back as you walk through the door. There’s a litany of white pillar candles of all different heights and thicknesses everywhere in the living room, flickering as if they’re just lit. There he is, ensconced in the corner of the couch, guitar slung across his lap. He smiles, patting the open cushion next to him.

“I will spare you from the ultimate perfect yet cheesy Canadian Valentine’s Day, singing some Celine Dion love song to you,” he jokes, pressing a lengthy kiss to your temple. “But I did dig through someone’s playlists to find something. Mind you, this is only part of your gift, which will never rank up against all that you did for me today. That was, just, ridiculous and perfect and sweet. So damn thoughtful, babe. I loved it.”

He leans over to quickly press a kiss at the corner of your mouth before diving into the song.

“The dawn is breaking, a light shining through. You're barely waking and I'm tangled up in you,” he sings. “I’m open, you're closed. Where I follow, you'll go. I worry I won't see your face light up again.”

Your breath sticks in your throat. Your brain scrambles slightly, eyes clouding up. You miss him sing the chorus the first go, the blood rushing through your ears.

“I'm quiet you know. You make a first impression. I've found I'm scared to know I'm always on your mind. Even the best fall down sometimes, even the stars refuse to shine. Out of the back you fall in time. I somehow find you and I collide,” he continues. “Even the best fall down sometimes. Even the wrong words seem to rhyme. Out of the doubt that fills my mind, I somehow find you and I collide.”

You sniff as he finishes, shifting his guitar out of his hands to move behind you before throwing yourself into his lap, arms tight around his neck. “So, you’re going to need to record that for me, so I have that to sing me to sleep when you’re out on tour. Honey, that was just…”

You trail off, leaning your forehead against his, trying to catch your breath and your words all at once. His hands a steady hold on your waist, fingers trailing up and down slightly.

“Just when I think you’ve permeated every part of my heart already, you go and do something like that,” you profess honestly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispers against your lips. “So much.” He draws you closer, arms tightening around you. His heartbeat a tether to yours, a steady rhythm in time with each other’s beats.

TAG LIST: @whenidance, @parkerdavis, @sinplisticshawn, @hollandraul, @fallinallincurls, @itrocksmysocks, @rainbowshawn, @lasingphomustra, @illumecherry

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes story #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes blurb

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peach-arcade · 2 years

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[ @sharpshooternomoremoxxie | Asked..]

Looks like the family got a little bigger with a strange red-skinned creature sitting at their doorstep chowing down on the flesh of the pumpkins they set out giving the giant puppy dog eyes while still trying to stuff its face.

[WHAT’D I SAY ABOUT THE FAMILY,--]

“....well, never thought I’d see an imp just... Waltz on up to me.” Glow hummed as he opened the door, head tilting at the puppy-dog eyes the creature was giving. He had fought many demons in his life time... But he’d never had one just outright walk up to him with no shame, no fear... And give him puppy dog eyes. It wasn’t his mountain, honestly, but... His aura should have sent the imp packing.

“...what the Hell.”

“Y’wanna come inside, buddy? My boyfriends are making dinner, if you’re interested in something other than that pumpkin you’re chomping on.” It wasn’t lost on him that the imp had one glassy eye, a missing arm, and angelic wings, but he wasn’t one to comment right now. After all, the imp had to be in a pretty sad spot in order to not run from him, let alone Blacklight or Tali.

#stories for today | asks #These scars won’t define you/rise above the Hell that made you | sharpshooternomoremoxxie/Moxxie Devoe #helluva boss tw #I’m gonna live loud/until there’s no breath left in me/I’m gonna live through hell/so I’m left with no regrets | Sun Wukong/Glow #//btw since it's a big fam #//if you want to interact w/M.caque or Synt.x just head to their blogs #//and Wr1t3r is (obvs) available on all three #A massive family/with a heart for all/don’t count us out/unless you’re ready to fall | Arcade Family Verse

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kwanisms · 6 years

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Personal Trainer - lhs

⤑ genre: smut/ personal trainer!au ⤑ pairing: Hoseok x Reader ⤑ warning: face fucking, slight?? degradation, some overstim, sir kink ⤑ summary: when your best friend begs you to go to the gym with her, you’re convinced she’s trying to set you up with her personal trainer and after seeing him, you might just be okay with that. ⤑ word count: 7.6k

a/n: i can’t believe it’s been so long since i posted this piece! i decided to revamp my blog and my openings got a huge makeover. all oneshots and drabbles now have title cards! anyway, thank you all for the attention you’ve shown this piece and in light of recent events, i’m reblogging this to celebrate the good news about our Wonho! ~K

It was a well known fact you detested the gym. You hated the wandering eyes of the overly buff wannabe bodybuilders who clearly didn’t need to be there but instead were hoping to pick up women with their overcompensation. You hated the judging stares you received when you stopped running as if everyone else deemed it too soon for you to quit. Of course, you could be entirely wrong and they probably weren’t thinking about you at all.

Still, you disliked the dirty looks girls gave you when you walked a little too close to their boyfriends as if you were going to snatch them and run; no one wants your poodle, honey, you thought as a girl with her long blonde hair pulled into a tight ponytail stood protectively in front of her boyfriend with his poofy and curly locks, sending a menacing glare your way. So it came as no shock that you refused to accompany your best friend, Emily, to the private gym at the country club her family belonged to.

You found yourself at one of the loudest and most popular clubs Friday night listening to her pleas as you tried to enjoy yourself and let loose after a taxing work week.“Please!! I could really use the encouragement and you could use the workout,” she said, giving you a once over. “Wow, thanks Emily, that wasn’t contumelious or anything,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Oh come on, (Y/N). You would be so much hotter than you are now if you had a killer body!” she said stirring her drink before raising it to her lips.”And stop using obscure words like some vocabulary hipster. I’m not best friends with a dictionary. Well,” she paused before her eyes turned back to you, a smirk present on her face. “Unless you count as one.” You smacked her arm, bursting into giggles as the music with loud pulsing bass swirled around you.

Emily had always been a very outspoken, very honest, and extremely blunt. It was never her intentions to hurt someone’s feelings, but more times than naught that was the result. You had been friends since you could walk. You knew each other better than anyone. You downed the rest of your drink and stood to make your way over to the bar and order another, Emily’s words still fresh in your mind. Returning to.your table, drink in hand, the words that next came out of your best friend’s mouth made it all too clear why she wanted you at the gym.

“Please just come with me! The new personal trainer is really hot!” Ahhh, there it was. You smirked as she revealed her true intentions to you. “You just want me to be your wingman, don’t you?!” you feigned shock, lacing your voice with mock betrayal. “Actually, he’s more your type than mine,” Emily said, playing with a stand of her hair absentmindedly. This piqued your interest and you sighed. It couldn’t hurt to go and have a look, right? “Fiiiiine,” you say, drawing out the vowel and your best friend smiled half in glee, half in triumph and you almost regretted your submission.

Almost.

The next day, dressed in some simple black leggings, your sports bra, an oversized long sleeve shirt, and your sneakers, you were in Emily’s car and ready to get this over with. The night before, still fresh in your mind, you mentally prepared yourself to deal with Emily’s whining about how hungover she was when she had all of 3 drinks. She pulled into a parking spot near the entrance and the two of you got out.

You looked up at the natural stone façade of the massive complex, slinging your gym bag over your shoulder. The grounds were huge, a massive golf course spanning the sprawling hills outside. The drive up to the building was a long path hidden behind a huge line of trees, as if this place was hidden inside some dense forest when really, it was just inside a huge, heavily wooded city park. The cars parked in the perfectly painted spaces were all models you would never be able to afford with your measly salary as a bank manager.

Ferrari, Lamborghini, and BMWs. Think of any fancy car and they were all there. You had an intrusive thought of a middle aged woman driving her BMW to the grocery store to buy milk and tried to keep a giggle inside. You walked through the massive double doors with wrought iron and glass framed by thick, heavy black wood. Inside was just was grand as the outside with vaulted ceilings, polished marble floors, and dark wood paneling on the walls. The place screamed high class and reeked of old money.

A massive crystal chandelier hung in the waiting area that was much larger than your one bedroom apartment. The marble on the floors was mirrored in the huge receptionist counter and a small, a girl in her late teens sat behind it. The patrons inside a small cafe area sat around small round glass top bistro style tables sipping on their caramel machiafrappuchinos or whatever the latest coffee trend was and you swore they looked at you with disdain when you passed by, as if you were some dirty thing hellbent on mucking up their precious club. Emily approached the reception desk to sign in and smiled at the teen behind the counter.

“I’ve brought a guest today,” she said sweetly. The receptionist sighed as if Emily was demanding she perform like a monkey for her, pulled out a clipboard with a sign in sheet for guests and jabbed it out at you. Taking the clipboard, you signed in quickly, handed it back, and then proceeded to follow Emily through the massive club to the gym. Inside it was moderately sized, filled with various workout equipment.

On one end was a wall of mirrors with racks of free weights standing in front of them. To one side behind the treadmills were floor to ceiling windows that gave a view of the vast golf course you had seen from the parking lot. Several patrons were enjoying a day of golf on this mild autumn day. On the wall opposite the windows were several doors leading into smaller rooms, each door with a little plaque next to it giving insight as to what was inside.

There were only 4 people in the gym; a middle aged woman, a young man, Emily, and yourself. The woman sported a very blunt, black bob haircut that barely reached past her chin, strands of grey littered her pin straight locks. She moved at a steady pace on one of the ellipticals, her eyes trained on the television screen in front of her, old reruns of Grey’s Anatomy or some other soap opera playing. The only man in the room sat by one of the doors into a private room, his eyes glued to his phone. He had probably the most incredible body you’d had ever seen.

He was ripped. Arms, chest, thighs, calves, you name it, he had it. He wore black knee length basketball shorts over grey compression pants, a black compression shirt, and a black baseball cap. On the floor next to him was a grey duffle bag, a black semi transparent water bottle resting on top. Suddenly, you felt very self conscious of your body and tried to unsuccessfully hide behind your own gym bag.

Emily shook her head, her long black hair swaying and she marched up to the man. He looked up and your heart nearly stopped. He was so handsome. His eyes shone brightly and his face broke into the sweetest smile. He pocketed his phone as he stood up.

“Hi, Emily, right?” he asked extending his arm, offering one if his large hands. She smiled and nodded, shaking his hand. “This is my friend, (Y/N), she’ll be joining us today.” You stepped forward shyly as the man held his hand out and offered you a warm smile. You were painfully aware of how your heart was hammering in your chest, wondering if anyone else could hear it, because damn, it was loud in your ears. When you took his hand and shook it, there was no other way to describe it; your body ignited, as if you were the latest victim of spontaneous human combustion.

His eyes locked with your own and suddenly you found it nearly impossible to form any coherent sentences. The intensity of his stare sent blood rushing to places you didn’t exactly want it to. Damn it, you were screwed. Instead you nodded politely and returned his smile. He dropped your hand, and your body whined at the loss of contact.

“A pleasure to meet you ladies, my name is Hoseok.” You made a mental note of how his name sounded. “The pleasure is ours, Hoseok,” Emily smiled, and when Hoseok leaned over to pick up his bag, she looked at you and mouthed the words “oh my god!” You gave her a stern look, mouthing back “stop it!” and dropped it when Hoseok stood straight again.

He led the two of you into the private room he sat by, shutting the door behind you, making sure to hang the occupied sign in place. Inside the room was larger than you had anticipated. The floor was the same as outside in the main gym, that soft spongy material, there were medium blue mats hanging on the wall to the left of the door as you entered and they vaguely reminded you of the mats that hung in the gym in elementary school.

In the far left corner of the room, next to a large mirror that took up the entire wall across from the door, was a simple door that you suspected was a closet holding various workout equipment. Hoseok dropped his bag in the corner, facing away from you but you could see his face in the reflection of the mirror. He removed his hat and his blonde hair fell, bangs falling into his eyes. You hadn’t noticed you had been staring until Emily cleared her throat.

“(Y/N), you can put your bag over here,’ she said and you tie your gaze away from Hoseok’s reflection but you could have sworn his eyes met yours briefly before you turned away and set your bag next to Emily’s, bending to grab your own water bottle. Emily knelt down, pretending to busy herself with something in her bag. “Don’t get caught staring,” she whispered so low you almost didn’t hear her.

Clearing your throat with a grunt, you stood straight and turned around to find Hoseok had already turned to face you. His eyes were trained on you, the ends of his mouth curled up as if he was trying to fight a smile. Emily followed you to the center of the room as she pulled all her hair up into a bun on top of her head. Hoseok tore his gaze away and moved to open the closet, retrieving three yoga mats. You glared at Emily and she smiled sheepishly at you. Yoga had not been part of the agreement.

You had virtually no balance whatsoever and now you were expected to contort your body while maintaining your balance in front of this incredibly handsome stranger. No way. Not happening. Hoseok motioned for the two of you to join him and gestured at the mats. “Have a seat.” You followed Emily, who sat without hesitation. She grinned broadly as Hoseok sat on the mat in front of you and led you through a series of light stretches, warming you up before the workout began.

Hoseok had you remove your shoes and socks and stand on the mats, showing you the first yoga pose. It was relatively simple enough. You had to stand still. You could do that. “Press your toes into the mat and bring your shoulders back further,” Hoseok said softly behind you, his hands resting gently on your shoulders and he lightly pulled signaling you to stand up straight. You complied, your skin burning under his touch and you were certain he could tell. If the smile on his face wasn’t a dead giveaway, then the way one of his hands lingered on your shoulder after he had already corrected your posture definitely should have given him away.

The next pose had you standing, feet wide apart, arms open, and you had to admit you felt like a real idiot. Hoseok attended to Emily, correcting her feet before focusing his attention on you. He complimented your feet being in the right position but he gently grasped your hips to move them in the right position and you couldn’t hide the involuntary gasp that left your mouth when his large hands touched you.

He either didn’t notice, or he didn’t choose to notice but instead remained professional as he continued to correct your position. When he pulled away and circled around you to make sure you were doing the pose right he stopped in front of you and you dared not look up at him. This man was driving you crazy.

Hoseok moved into the next pose that had you sitting on the floor, legs together in front of you, and you had to bend your body in half. Emily, being the flexible former cheerleader, had no problems. You however had great difficulty. You were not on the cheerleading squad in high school, instead opting to focus more on your studies. Hoseok knelt behind you, “may I?” he asked and you nodded, trying to hide the blush that crept across your face.

His hands were gentle as he slowly pushed you into position, stopping every so often to make sure it wasn’t too much. One hand on between your shoulder blades, the other at the small of your back. “If it’s too much, let me know. I don’t want to overwork you,” he said softly, his voice caring and sweet, mimicking the gentleness of his hands. You winced, feeling a burn in your hamstrings you’ve never felt before.

“Are you alright?” he asked, leaning in closer, his breath fanning the back of your neck. You could smell his cologne. A light airy scent that on it’s own wouldn’t affect you but mixed with another heavier scent, possibly arousal, you felt dizzy. You nodded quickly hoping it would end soon. Hoseok smiled and patted your back. “Alright, you can sit up now,” he said, his hands falling from your back as he stood and returned to the front of the room. He put his shoes and socks back on, signaling the yoga session was over.

You and Emily also replaced your footwear before standing and allowing Hoseok to roll up the yoga mats, returning them to the small closet. You took the reprieve to down some water before moving on to the next part. The next part was cardio. You left the small room and back out into the now empty gym. He motioned for you to join him at two of the treadmills.

He set the workout for you and let you get into position. You pulled your earbuds up into your ears, pressing play on your phone before starting off at a mild walking pace. After a couple moments, the walking pace sped up into a light run. You tried to focus on anything that wasn’t Hoseok’s face, ultimately focusing your eyes on one of the television screens.

You could see Hoseok watching you and Emily carefully out of the corner of your eye. His gaze lingered on you longer than you thought was necessary but eventually he tore his gaze away. He checked his watch as your pace slowed to a brisk walking pace and you tried to catch your breath. You continued, following the preset workout, keeping your eyes ahead but glancing slyly at Hoseok.

Finally the treadmill slowed to a stop and you worked to catch your breath, taking huge gulps of water in between breaths. Emily gave you a big cheeky grin as Hoseok led you the rack with the free weights. “See? This isn’t so bad,” she said as she picked up her water and downed a few gulps.

Maybe she was fine, but your body was screaming. You were so incredibly turned on by this man who had been touching you, albeit innocently, all morning. You felt as if your body would explode if you didn’t find release soon. Hoseok grabbed two sets of hand weights that were on the smaller side and showed you both the next part. You tried your best to mimic him, wanting to avoid as much skin contact his correcting would bring.

You did well up until the start of your third repetition. “You need to stand up straight, (Y/N),” Hoseok said chuckling and pressing his hand to the small of your back, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You visibly shuddered and immediately felt mortified. Hoseok said nothing, clearly choosing to ignore it because there was no way he didn’t notice. You finished your workout with the weights and moved on to squats.

Hoseok handed Emily a medium sized kettlebell and she set off, needing no correction. When your turn came, Hoseok showed you how to stand and gave you advice on how to keep your balance while squatting. “Keep your back straight, lower with your legs and lift with your heels. Keep your heels planted. Try not to lift them,” he said with a kind smile and handed you the kettlebell.

While you did your squats, Emily went to refill your and her water bottles. You lowered yourself down, feeling Hoseok’s gaze burning into the side of your face. “No, you’re going to hurt yourself if you keep doing that,” he said and moved behind you. He corrected your position and gently lowered you, his hands guiding your body and you struggled to breathe evenly, letting out shaky breaths. Hoseok noticed because he ended your set early and let Emily finish hers when she returned. Your face set ablaze from embarrassment, Hoseok led the two of you back to the private room.

The next exercise required regular mats that he pulled from the wall and set down. Hoseok picked up two medicine balls and handed them to you and Emily. He sat between the two of you, demonstrating a movement called a Russian twist with your medicine ball. You watched in awe, your eyes trailing up his arms, across his chest, and down his stomach to his thighs as he twist back and forth, showing you exactly what to do.

He handed your ball back and immediately Emily started, mirroring his demonstration perfectly. You tried to get into the right position but found you could not keep your balance for more than a few seconds. Futilely, you keep trying, eager to show you could do it, but ultimately failing with a loud sigh. Hoseok knelt down next to you and reached out.

With one hand on the middle of your back, he encouraged you to try again and you did, his hand supporting your back and allowing you to execute a couple twists. You could see Emily’s smirk out of the corner of your eye but you tried your best to ignore her and the obvious heat emanating from his hand and spreading throughout your body, a flush forming on your face. You hoped Hoseok would think the pink tinge to your cheeks was from your exertion and not the fact that he was touching you. After a few more reps, the Russian twist part was done. Emily stood closely as Hoseok returned the mat to the wall, Velcro to Velcro.

“I think he’s noticed how badly you want him,” she whispered so softly only you could hear yet you still shot her a warning glare. “You want him too, I know you do,” she added and pulled away, smiling brightly as if nothing happened the moment Hoseok turned toward the pair of you. There was a knock on the door and Hoseok called out a “yes?”

The receptionist opened the door, an apologetic look on her face. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but your car is being towed, miss,” she said looking at Emily who immediately yelled out a “what?!” “I tried to stop them but something about unpaid tickets and parking in a handicapped spot.” Emily cursed softly as she rushed out of the room, grabbing her bag and let the door shut behind her, not even sparing you a second glance.

Suddenly you were aware of how small the room was, Hoseok standing behind you. You slowly turned to him to find his eyes were already trained on you. “So, uh, do we just wait for her?” you ask softly, not sure if she was going to return. Hoseok said nothing, eyes glued on your face, his expression unreadable. You glanced around nervously, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

You swayed awkwardly, trying to form a sentence. “Should I just go?” you asked and again were met with silence. You took that as a sign and moved to pack up your belongings. As you bent over, a soft voice called out “don’t,” and you turned to look at Hoseok. He was leaning against the mirror, arms crossed over his chest. “Don’t what?” you asked, your voice small. “Don’t bend over like that,” he said, his voice deeper than before.

His tone was commanding, his eyes dark as his stare bore through you. When you didn’t speak, he pushed off the wall, making his way slowly towards you. “If you bend over like that again, I won’t be able to stop myself.” His gaze was almost predatory as he stalked forward, the intensity of it, sent heat rushing to your core.

“What?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Hoseok’s lips twitched as a smirk appeared. “You think I didn’t notice? How often your eyes wandered? How your body reacted every time I touched you? How your breath caught in your throat? I’m not blind, sweetheart, and you’re not very subtle.” The amused hint to his voice caught your attention and immediately, heat spreading across your face. He slowly backed you into the wall, reaching out to rest his hands on each side of your head and leaning into you. You didn’t dare look up to meet his eyes.

“I can tell you want me,” his voice was a deadly whisper and still you refuse to meet his gaze, afraid of what might happen if you did. “Look at me at me,” he commanded and you found yourself submit to him, obedient to his words. The moment your eyes met his, your lips parted as a soft whimper left your throat. The look on his face had you melting immediately. The darkness in his eyes hooded with what you could only assume was lust sent shivers down your spine, your core tightening with want, no… with need.

Hoseok searched your gaze, no doubt looking for any sign of discomfort before he spoke. “If you want me to stop,” his hand left the wall and gently, caressed the side of your neck as he made his way down your side, stopping at your hip. “Tell me and I will.” You sighed as his fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, rubbing light circles against the skin of your side.

You didn’t want him to stop so you shook your head and said in a whisper, “don’t stop.” Expecting him to crash his lips to yours, you braced for impact but it never came, instead his lips pressed softly against your cheek, slowly making their way toward your lips in light, chaste kisses before he paused, lips centimeters from yours. He was giving you one last chance to change your mind.

Any inhibitions you might have had before were now long gone with his skin against yours. You wasted no time, uncertain if Emily would return, and closed the distance, placing a quick peck. You were merely testing, not sure of how to progress. Hoseok’s hand moved to the back of your neck and pulled you back into him, deepening the kiss. Your hands resting on his sides, you moved your lips against his. It was a slow sensual kiss. The hand that wasn’t on your neck, was roaming, examining your body. He pressed his body into yours, pushing you against the wall before he rolled his hips into yours and you gasped.

He took that opportunity to slip his tongue past your parted lips and explore. Your hands moved over him with as much enthusiasm as he showed and you settled for resting them on his broad shoulders. Hoseok’s hand snaked down to your thigh and lifted, wrapping it around his hip as he pushed against you again, eliciting a moan from you.

He smiled into the kiss and rocked his hips against yours again, enjoying the sounds of your moans, knowing it was all because of him. It fueled his ego and his lips left yours to pass over your cheek until he reached your neck and started to nip at the sensitive skin just below your ear. A quiet whimper escaped you as Hoseok soothed over the irritated skin with his tongue before he sucked which would leave a purplish bruise the next day. His hand that wasn’t holding your hip braced against the wall as he continued you grind into you and tease your neck. You moved your hips to match his rhythm and moaned loudly at the sensation, leaning your head back.

Hoseok bit harshly where your shoulder and neck met and you whined. “You have to be quiet, sweetheart. Unless you want everyone to know what a needy slut you are,” he hissed in your ear. Your core tightened at his words, walls clenching around nothing. He pulled away, inspecting your face to see if he hadn’t crossed a line but you encouraged him to continue. He let your leg drop before grabbing you by the wrist and leading you out of the private room, leaving all your stuff behind.

He dragged you through the empty gym to the locker room. Your body burned with anticipation as Hoseok pulled you into one of the showers and shut the curtain before pouncing on you, meeting your lips hungrily. He pulled the hem of your shirt up above your breasts before pulling away and tearing the offending top off, discarding it somewhere on the floor of the shower before latching his lips to yours again. He cupped your cheeks with his hands and backed you against the cool tile.

Your fingers locked in his hair, willing him closer though the was no more empty space between you. Hoseok’s hand moved over your chest, lightly grasping your breast, causing you to groan and lean into his touch. He squeezed and caught your lower lip between his teeth. You suppressed a moan and tugged on his locks, a soft groan rising up from his throat. He pulled back and removed his own shirt, adding it to the ever growing pile of clothes.

You released your grip on his hair and allowed your hands to wander, smoothing over his muscles, your eyes following every curve. Hoseok slipped his hand under your sports bra and your gasped at the feeling of his warm palm against your sensitive nipple. He rocked more forcefully against your hips, his erection digging into your pelvis.

“This needs to come off,” he said in a deep husky tone that dripped with lust and conveyed his desire for you. He pulled at the waistband of your leggings. “May I?” he asked and you nodded slowly, watching as he tucked his thumbs under the elastic and slid your leggings down to your ankles. His eyes traveled slowly up your body, stopping momentarily at your black lace panties, before continuing up to lock your eyes in an intense heated gaze. As he watched your chest rising and falling due to your labored breaths, Hoseok stood again before learning into you, pressing a kiss to your lips, positioning his thigh between your legs, and pushed up against your sex.

A soft cry skipped past your lips at the contact and you shivered. Hoseok smirked, resting his hands on your hip and pushed you down on him, guiding your hips to rock against his muscular thigh. You gasped, closing your eyes and losing yourself to the feeling. Hoseok chuckled above you and you snapped your eyes open. “Look at you,” he said, his voice laced with amusement.

“Getting yourself off on my thigh. Are you that desperate?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. His hands left your hips and reached up to push your bra up, exposing your breasts. You flushed red and looked away from his gaze. His chuckled reverberated off the tile and he pulled his thigh away.

“Which would you rather have, sweetheart; my thigh or my cock?” his eyes had a mischievous glint in his eyes. Your eyes flitted down toward the prominent bulge in his shorts. You reached a hand between you, palm resting against his erection. “You mean this cock?” you purred. Hoseok’s eyes fluttered shut as his lips parted, a soft moan fell from his open mouth.

You relished in your power over him temporarily before he gripped your wrist tightly and his eyes snapped open, finding yours instantly. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be begging for it,” he hissed, taking both of your hands above your head and pinning them in one of his own hands before letting his free one slide down your body, stopping to punch one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You whined and pushed your hips against his. Hoseok grinned and dipped his head to take the other sensitive bud in his mouth, toying it with his tongue while his hand on your breast kneaded it.

You lean your head back into the wall, letting out another moan, and winced when Hoseok bit down on your chest. “Shut up, or else everyone will hear what a whiny whore you are.” You pressed your thighs together at his words and Hoseok resumed his ministrations. He pulled back, capturing your lips in another hearted kiss, tongues dancing together. His hand left your chest and continued down your body until he cupped your heat.

You held in a gasp as his fingers moved, pressing against your soaked panties, rolling in agonizingly slow waves. You whimpered, muffled by his lips, at his touch. “You’re soaked right through your pretty lace panties. Do you want me that badly, babygirl?” You rolled your hips against his hand, desperate for some friction. “Use your words,” Hoseok mused. “Yes. I want you,” you breathed.

“Tsk, that won’t do. ‘Yes, I want you, sir.’ Say it again and say it right, sweetheart,” Hoseok corrected you. You moaned when his fingers pressed harder into your wet folds, still not giving you pressure where you wanted it the most. “Y-yes, I want you, sir,” you pleaded. Hoseok gave in and delved his hand into your panties, sliding a finger along your wetness.

His skin made contact with your clit and started rubbing slow circles against it. Your breathing came out shallow, your chest working overtime. Hoseok smiled against your skin, pressing his lips to the crook of your neck as he continued to tease you. “Please,” you gasped, trying to wriggle your wrists free. “Let me touch you, sir.” Hoseok contemplated giving in but decided against it.

“You get to touch when you prove that you can be a good girl,” he smirked, letting his finger flitted over your entrance cause you to shudder. “Should I give you what you want? I don’t know if you deserve it.” You tried to rock your hips against his hand but he pulled back. “If you can’t even stay still, how can I trust you to keep your hands to yourself.”

You whined, pleading with your eyes. “I’m sorry, sir. I promise I’ll be good,” you mewled. Hoseok bit his lip, the corners curling up. “You promise? If you don’t follow through, if you break your promise, I’ll have no choice but to punish you, sweetheart,” he growled and your body shook with want. “I know, sir.” Hoseok’s hand was back in your panties, finger pressed to your clit again. You moaned, arching your back. He slipped a finger inside your wet pussy and slowly pumped the digit in and out of you, eyes on your face, watching your reaction. He added another finger, picking up the pace as he fucked you with his fingers, palm rubbing against your clit.

Your moans grew in volume, bouncing off the tile walls. Hoseok pulled his hand away before your orgasm could come to fruition and wrapped his fingers around your throat, gently, carefully cutting off your air supply. “Since you can’t keep quiet, I guess I’m going to have to fill that pretty mouth of yours.” A dark blush swept over your face at his words and he released his grip on your throat. “On your knees, now,” he commanded. You were surprised by how quickly you complied, sliding down the wall until your knees met the cold unforgiving floor. Hoseok rid himself of his shorts and compression pants, leaving him in only his boxer briefs. Your eyes trailed up and down his body, taking in every curve of his muscles.

“See something you like, sweetheart?” he asked bemused. You gulped as he returned to you, taking your chin in his hand and brushed his thumb over your swollen bottom lip. “Open your mouth,” he barked and you obeyed him, your core tightening as you watched him palm himself over his boxers.

“You look so pretty on your knees in front of me, mouth open like the cockslut you are.” You refrained from moaning like you wanted to, certain he might not give you what you wanted. You watched Hoseok stroked himself over his underwear, watching your every move like a hawk. “Arms behind your back,” he said and again, you obeyed instantly. It was arousing how much control his words had.

You watched in awe as Hoseok slowly removed his underwear and his hard cock sprang free. You tried to hold back a low moan but with your mouth open, it met no resistance. Hoseok glanced up at you with a lopsided grin before he let his boxers drop to his ankles and stepping out of them. He stood before you, holding himself at the base of his member, tip leaking with pre-cum and you tried to hold back from flinging yourself at him.

You wait for instruction which came swiftly. “Tongue out,” he said in a low voice. You surrendered to him and stuck your tongue out, his cock dangerously close to your mouth now. You inhaled deeply and slowly, Hoseok set the head of his dick on your tongue before moving slowly inside your mouth.

You moved to brace yourself against his thighs but he hissed “you don’t get to touch yet. Hands behind your back, sweetheart.” You clasped your hands together behind your back as Hoseok moved deeper into your mouth. He groaned at the sensation of your wet mouth around his throbbing member and pushed inside further still.

You felt the tip of his cock nearing the back of your throat and tried to keep your breathing steady. He stilled inside you, letting you adjust to the intrusion, his hand brushing a few strands of your hair out of your face before gripping your locks. He slowly pulled out and gently thrust into your mouth, his cock barely hitting the back of your throat.

You fought against your gag reflex as he continued to thrust into your mouth. You tried to keep your jaw as relaxed as possible, timing your breaths. Hoseok thrust deeper into your mouth, now fully hitting the back of your throat, his hand in your hair holding you in place, another hand placed against the wall, bracing himself. Another hit to the back of your throat and you gagged again.

The lewd sounds of his cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly filled the locker room before he shoved in and stilled, his cock buried in your throat. You swallowed around them, the sensation sending shivers up Hoseok’s back, his head thrown back as he let out a loud moan.

You tried to hold out as long as you could, your breath slowly running out. Hoseok pulled back and you gasped trying to catch your breath, saliva running down your chin before Hoseok pressed the head of his cock to your lips. “You aren’t done,” he growled and thrust back in once you opened your mouth.

Your tongue brushed against the vein that along the underside of his dick and he moaned again, ramming back into your mouth before pushing your head until you settled at the base of his cock, effectively cutting off your air supply again. You swallowed and Hoseok grunted, staying completely still. “Almost,” he said. Your lungs cried for air and as you tried pulling back to breathe, an impossible feat because of the strong grip he had on your hair, Hoseok let out a loud drawn out moan mixed with a slew of curses as he came, his hot release shooting down your throat.

Hoseok pulled out once he had finished, panting heavily while you coughed as air met your lungs again. You fell forward, hands moving to brace yourself against the cold floor. “Holy shit, that was amazing,” Hoseok said breathlessly. He knelt down next to you and wiped your drool of your chin before he pulled you up and moved you to the small seat inside the shower.

Sitting you down on the edge, he pulled your panties off, discarding them and knelt between your thighs. “What are you doing?” you asked looking down at him. “Rewarding you,” he said with a mischievous grin before leaning forward and pressing light kisses to your knees. His lips trailed along the inside of your thigh, stopping to bite and suck purplish bruises in the sensitive flesh. Your hands moved to run your fingers through his hair and he pulled back.

“No touching, not yet,” he said and resumed his teasing before moving to the other thigh and repeating the same actions. You moaned when his lips ghosted over your wet sex and he smiled before pressing a kiss to your abdomen just under your belly button. “Please don’t tease me, sir,” you whimpered, not forgetting to call him by his preferred title. “I promise I’ll be good.”

Hoseok chuckled lowly before throwing your left thigh over his shoulder and giving you a soft kitten lick. You tasted even better than you smelled and he leaned in for one more little lick before spreading your lips and focusing his attention at the small bundle of nerves. He wrapped his lips around it, the tip of his tongue flicking against it lightly and you let out a high pitched moan placing your hands palms flat on the seat on other side of you and leaned back against the tile. Hoseok alternated between licking and sucking on your clit while his free hand roamed, traveling up to your breast and cupped it, his fingers kneading into it. You whimpered while he continued, eating you out as if it was his last meal.

It wasn’t long before you felt the familiar coil inside your groin telling you that your orgasm was building. As if Hoseok knew by some miracle, his hand left your breast and moved down to ease two fingers inside of you, pumping at a steady rhythm. He pulled back, grinning up at you, your juices glistened on his chin. “You taste so good, sweetheart,” he said, his voice husky and you felt your core tighten at his praise.

He returned to your clit, flattening his tongue as he licked harshly against it. He softly nibbled and you cried out. He added a third digit, moving faster as he repeatedly rammed them into you. Your hips bucked to meet his hand and another moan tore from your throat, which was now hoarse from his cock being so far down it before.

Hoseok used his shoulders to nudge your legs, silently asking you to spread them further and you did, allowing more access. “You should see how you look, babygirl. Legs spread wide for me. You’re such a good slut,” he said lips barely leaving your dripping heat. You could only moan in response. “God I can’t wait to be inside your tight pussy. You won’t remember your name when I’m done with you.” As you neared your high, you whined out a series of moans and sirs before you threw your head back and whimpered “I’m gonna cum.”

Hoseok looked up at you, a smile present on his face again. “I don’t think so, sweetheart,” and he was gone. You groaned, angry at him for denying you your release before he was pulling you up, only to sit down and guide you to straddle him, your wet, quivering core above the head of his erect cock. His hands pushed your hips down as he slowly slid inside you until he bottomed out. You sat still for a moment, adjusting to his size, the stretch of him more than you had anticipated.

When the pain ebbed away, you rolled your hips against his and he let out a strained moan and grasped your ass in his hands, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as you slowly lifted off him and slid back down. “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight.” Hoseok said, his eyes screwing shut as you rode him. Your hands settled on his shoulders, bracing yourself as you continued to bounce on his dick.

You felt one of his hands leave your ass only to deliver a sharp slap against your ass cheek and you gasped, the skin stinging where he had smacked you. He gently ran his hand over the spot, soothing it. He found it increasingly harder and harder to keep up the sir facade as you continued to ride him and take his cock so well.

His eyes fell from your face, the pink tinge of your cheeks and your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you concentrated, down to your breasts that bounced each time you fell back down on his length, and finally further down where we watched himself disappear inside you. His jaw opened in a silent moan and he couldn’t help but chuckle when you leaned forward, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. “I can’t,” you whispered and Hoseok didn’t need telling twice.

He gripped your hips on either side and held you in place while he thrusted up into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed off the walls. Moan after moan fell from your mouth as his dick rubbed against a sensitive spot inside. Hoseok continued thrusting as deep as he could. One of your hands locked in his hair, the other rested against his thigh and you leaned back slightly while he rocked up into your tight pussy. Your eyes locked and he could see that you were close. This time, he wasn’t going to stop because he couldn’t hold back anymore.

His pace quickened as he chased his own high, but not before he snaked a hand between you and pressed his thumb into your clit, rubbing to the pace of his thrusts trying to time your climaxes. You threw your head back and moaned out “oh god, Hoseok,” just as he let a groan fall from his lips.

“God you feel so good,” he grunted and moved the hand on your hip yo hook around your waist and pulled you closer, his face buried in the crook of your neck this time as he thrust harder and harder into you. He was close, but judging from the tightening of your pussy, your walls clenching around him, squeezing his cock so nicely, you were close to coming undone, too.

A few more thrusts up into you along with the circles he rubbed into your clit had you crying out “I’m gonna cum!” Hoseok smiled into your neck and whispered “come for me, sweetheart. Come on my cock.” His words were the final pushed you needed and you cried out, walls clenching him as your orgasm hit you. White blinded your vision, an intense heat spread throughout your body as Hoseok continued to thrust, helping you ride out your high before chasing his own and his hips slammed up into yours.

It wasn’t long after that he moaned, more of a whine, as he released his load inside you and continued thrusting until he slowly came to a stop, you still on his lap, face still hidden in your neck. You softly stroked his hair while you struggled to catch your breath.

“That was incredible,” he finally managed to say, pulling back and looking up at you. You blushed slightly and cupped his face in your hands before pressing a gentle kiss to hips lips, one he returned eagerly. “So, you wanna get cleaned up and get some coffee after? I know this really good cafe.” he asked as you gently placed kisses all over his face. “It’s not the cafe here, right?” you asked in between kisses. Hoseok smiled up, his hands on the small of your back as you arched, pressing your chest into his. “No, it’s not. The coffee here sucks.”

a/n: Whew!! I finally did it! I finally posted this. It was something I had in my mind since those most recent photos of Wonho at the gym came out and I just…. hello, sir. I’m a huge hoe for Wonho and my love for him will probably never die since he’ll never let me just L I V E. LET ME LIVE WONHO. I hope you all enjoyed this! I had so much fun writing it. Let me know what you think! Feedback is always welcome! ~K♡

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stereksecretsanta · 7 years

Text

Merry Christmas, @comedicdrama!

I hope you have a wonderful holiday, comedicdrama! <3

Rating: T Tags: cameraman!Stiles, painter!Derek, friends to lovers, fluff, so much fluff

*****

A Painting's Worth a Thousand Words

Stiles pulled up to the Hale house—the Hale mansion, really—and took a deep breath. It was just another show, exactly like they did every week at the studio.

Except this was the holiday show, and like every year, it would be just him and Derek in the Hale house basement for at least two hours, and then it would be a half hour drive over to the Beacon Hills Wildlife Sanctuary, at least an hour filming there, and a half hour drive back. Just the two of them. All day long.

Just Stiles, Derek, and Stiles's massive, unrequited crush.

They'd been working together for five years, since Derek had pitched the local public TV station on a painting program. It had been an unexpected hit—well, unexpected to Derek and most of the station management. Stiles had taken one look at him—dark hair, chiseled jaw dusted with black scruff, intense stare, broad shoulders, and a clear passion for painting—and he'd known the show would be huge. Even with people who'd never picked up a paintbrush in their lives.

Stiles had begged to be put on Derek's show. Thankfully, the station management hadn't needed too much convincing, and he and Derek had been together ever since.

Professionally. They'd been together professionally ever since.

Stiles really hadn't meant to go and fall head-over-heels for Derek. Early on, it had been easy enough to chalk it up to physical attraction and move on. But then he got to know Derek, saw how much he loved teaching people to paint, saw how much he loved his family and talking about their nonprofit work at the sanctuary, saw how earnest he was with people who enjoyed the show, and...

Well, at some point in the past five years, it had just happened. And now Stiles spent an inordinate amount of his life pining for one of his coworkers and closest friends. Really, that was just his fucking life.

He sighed, grabbed his camera and tripod, and proceeded to go begin one of the best and most excruciating days of his life.

***

Derek was wearing black-rimmed glasses and a green Christmas tree sweater that brought out the green in his multicolored eyes. He'd pushed the sleeves up to his elbows, revealing tanned forearms with a dusting of dark hair across them.

Stiles bit his lips to keep from making a pained noise and hoisted his tripod in greeting. "Hey, Derek! Ready to get started?"

"Just about," Derek said. "I'm still getting everything set up."

"That's okay." Stiles set his tripod on the floor. "Just stand where you'll be painting and I'll do some lighting tests while you're setting up."

Derek grinned at him, a quick one that showed just a flash of his two front teeth, and Stiles's heart did its usual triple somersault at the sight.

The basement at the Hale house was only a "basement" in the sense that it was the lowest floor of the house and partly underground. It had east-facing floor-to-ceiling windows that let in loads of natural light and a gorgeous view of the Beacon Hills Nature Preserve, and the whole thing was bigger than Stiles's apartment and fully decked out for Christmas. Derek's studio area was just one-quarter of it, and Stiles was pretty sure that part alone was bigger than his kitchen and living room combined.

Derek had an easel and canvas set up, and was squeezing his paint out onto a palette and frowning at the canvas, like he was still trying to figure out what to paint. Or maybe figuring out how to talk about it; even after five years, Stiles still wasn't a hundred percent sure how it worked. Derek usually just...stood up and talked while he was painting and his eyes actually glowed with happiness and Stiles mostly focused on making sure that he got the shots, the audio, and didn't drool on himself.

Once he got his camera set up, he walked around the basement and adjusted the blinds and curtains, flicking lights on and off until he got a lighting setup he was happy with. He might have to get a few lights out of the Jeep after they actually did test shots, but right now, he could probably make it work with just the lights in the basement.

He went back to his bags and got out the lapel mic. "Okay, Derek, mic time."

Derek stood up and lifted the back of his shirt, giving Stiles a glimpse of the strip of skin of his lower back.

Professional, Stiles scolded himself, and hooked the transmitter on to Derek's belt before handing him the mic to thread up through his shirt.

"You sure we need this?" Derek asked with a wrinkled nose, like he did every time.

"Yes." Stiles poked him in his unfairly muscled arm. "We always need to have two audio tracks, you know that. I'd hate to miss out on the scintillating way you say 'phthalo blue' because the shotgun cut out and we didn't have a backup. Come on, let's get started and see if I need to grab any more lights out of the car."

"There should be some in the closet," Derek said, pointing.

Stiles raised his eyebrows. "Wait, what? You have lights?"

Derek shrugged. "We shoot out here often enough that I thought it might be good to have a few lights as backup. Just in case."

Stiles went to the closet Derek had indicated. Sure enough, a lighting case and three C-stands sat on the floor, among the myriad other things in there.

Stiles gaped at them. "Dude, I can't believe you got me lighting stands!"

"It's better than you having to drive all the way back into town because you forgot them," Derek said.

Stiles whirled on him and jabbed a finger in his direction. "That was one time."

Derek snorted. "A memorable time."

Because he always dealt with his feelings in a mature way, Stiles stuck his tongue out at him.

Derek made a face right back, then went back and picked up his palette and brush. "Ready when you are."

Stiles hit the audio recorder, turned on the camera, and counted him in.

Derek smiled brilliantly, and it made Stiles's heart flutter the way it always did. "Hey, everyone. Glad you could join us today for our annual holiday show. As usual, we have a little bit of a change of scenery," he gestured to the room, "which I've used for inspiration for our painting today, since we don't exactly get a lot of snow in northern California. So we'll run the colors across the screen for you, and we'll go ahead and get started."

"Okay, cut!" Stiles said.

Derek frowned. "Everything good?"

Stiles checked the lighting on the video and then the mic recording. "Yeah, no, looks like we're good. Let's keep going."

Filming Derek's painting on location at the Hale house tended to be more stressful than filming at the studio, where Stiles had two extra cameras and way more lighting control. But the holiday episode was always a huge one for the station, and Stiles did enjoy the time they got to spend together here.

Listening to Derek talk about painting and watching him paint was probably Stiles's favorite part of his job. Derek always looked a little flushed and happy when he did, and he got visibly excited to see a painting come together. Even after five years of watching him do this once a week, Stiles still hadn't gotten over it.

They only had to cut twice, and before Stiles knew it, Derek was finishing up the painting and giving his traditional sign off, ending with, "And wherever you are, I hope you have the happiest of holiday seasons."

"Cut!" Stiles called.

Derek set his palette aside. "So what do you think? Does it look okay?"

"Dude." Stiles stretched, staring at the landscape painting of the wildlife preserve in winter. He'd watched Derek push paint around on the canvas for an hour and he still wasn't sure how it was done. "That's fantastic. I think this going to be your most popular holiday episode yet."

Derek ducked his head, but Stiles caught the edge of his smile. "You're just saying that."

"I never just say anything," Stiles said. "Well, sometimes I do, but not about things this important. Seriously, dude, it's good."

Derek scratched the back of his head. "Then you're biased."

"I probably am, but eh." Stiles's stomach rumbled. "Hey, you want to grab lunch somewhere before we head out to the wildlife sanctuary?"

"Actually, we've got food upstairs," Derek said. "My dad made spaghetti last night, and there are tons of leftovers. We also have some apple cider, if you want?"

"That sounds amazing," Stiles said.

The tips of Derek's ears turned red. "Okay, I'll go get it ready."

Stiles grabbed his computer and the memory cards out of the camera and audio recorder. "Then I'm going to dump the files while we're eating."

Stiles followed Derek up the stairs and settled at the kitchen table to dump the files onto his computer, and Derek got out the spaghetti and apple cider to heat up.

Stiles brought the first video files up to make sure everything had recorded correctly, and let out a sigh of relief when the file was clean; you only needed to have a file get corrupted once before it made you paranoid every time.

A mug of apple cider landed on the counter beside him. "How does it look?" Derek asked.

Wow, he was standing...very close. Stiles had to resist the urge to lean back into him. "It looks great, like I told you. I can't wait to put the whole thing together."

"We still need to get the footage from the wildlife sanctuary," Derek reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Stiles said. "What do you think, head out there around one?"

Derek took a sip of his cider. "That should work. As long as you get something to eat first."

"Dude, you're literally making me lunch right now." Stiles gestured at the microwave. "You act like I don't eat anything."

"You don't, unless Allison or I make you," Derek said. "How many times have I had to drag you away from your computer to get lunch?"

"Just once," Stiles muttered. "Or twice."

Derek poked him. "A week."

Stiles tried to elbow him, but Derek had moved out of reach. "It's not that often."

"It's often enough." Derek went to get the spaghetti out of the microwave and brought it over. "Now eat, and don't get too distracted watching the videos."

Stiles rolled his eyes, but he minimized the videos and dove into his spaghetti. Holy shit, it was fantastic. "Oh my God, I'm going to marry this pasta."

Derek coughed and turned to his own bowl. "I'll let Dad know you like it."

"Does he cook like this all the time? Because seriously, I will camp out in your backyard for table scraps."

Derek rolled his eyes. "We have plenty of bedrooms, in case you hadn't noticed. I'm sure we can stick you in one of those. Mom will never notice."

Stiles grinned at him. "You're a true friend."

Derek jabbed his fork into the spaghetti. "I try."

***

They drove out to the Beacon Hills Wildlife Sanctuary as soon as they'd finished eating, a good thirty minutes across the preserve from the Hale's house. Stiles spent most of the drive trying not to get distracted by Derek's forearms or his soft smile.

"We have a lot of new animals out there right now," Derek said. "Deer, wolf cubs, squirrels...which do you think would be best to feature?"

Stiles choked at the thought of Derek playing with any of them. Derek and adorable animals was really his kryptonite. "Uh, I really don't think it matters. Any of them will be great. Which ones are you most comfortable with?"

"Any of them," Derek said. "I've been helping feed the wolf cubs when I come out to volunteer."

"That's good. Let's do that," Stiles said. "People will go crazy for adorable baby wolves."

"Cubs," Derek corrected him.

"And that's why you do the talking on camera," Stiles said with a wink.

Derek blushed and crossed his arms. "God knows you talk enough off it."

"Aw, come on, what would you do without my rambling?"

"Suffer in silence," Derek said, but he was grinning.

It made Stiles's heart flip, and he had to turn back to focus on the road.

The Hales had been running the Beacon Hills Wildlife Sanctuary as long as Stiles could remember. From what Derek had told him, the sanctuary was his parents' baby, and when they'd first started working together, it had been on the brink of shutting down. Since the painting show had started to take off and Stiles knew at least 50% of that popularity was due to the fact that Derek was hotter than the surface of the sun, he'd suggested featuring some of the animals on the show. The only thing better than watching an attractive man talk passionately about painting was watching him bottle-feed baby deer.

It had been even more popular than he'd hoped it would be, and now the wildlife sanctuary had doubled in size, added three more full-time positions, and featured a ton of cool educational programs Stiles would have killed for when he was in elementary school. It had also helped the popularity of Derek's show as well, which made station management supremely happy.

Stiles had never told anyone the only reason he'd had the idea was because Derek looked utterly gutted at the thought of the sanctuary shutting down, and Stiles would have hand-crafted a rocket out of bubble gum and paperclips to fly to the outer reaches of the solar system if it meant never seeing that look on Derek's face again.

The wildlife sanctuary wasn't terribly crowded, being that it was the middle of a work day and the schools weren't out for winter break yet, so the only person working was Laura, Derek's older sister, who waved excitedly when they walked in. "Hey! You guys are earlier than I expected."

Stiles hoisted his camera. "We got through the painting a lot faster than I thought we would because Derek's an overachiever."

Derek elbowed him. "Hey, I just paint. You're the one who makes it look good."

Laura made gagging noises. "Get a room, please."

Stiles's face heated. "Maybe we will. But make it with the baby wolves."

"Cubs. Wolf cubs. We literally just went over this," Derek said.

Laura raised her eyes to the ceiling and muttered something Stiles couldn't hear. "Okay, wolf cubs. Come on down the hall and I'll get you set up."

The baby wolves—wolf cubs—were even more adorable than Stiles had pictured, and he had a pretty good concept of what adorable looked like. Three gangly, fluffy grey wolves and one gangly, fluffy white wolf tripped all over Derek, chewing at his sweater and making squeaky howls and yips that were so cute Stiles was pretty sure he was going to get a cavity from it. They had to cut several times because Derek was laughing too hard to talk about the wolves and why they were at the sanctuary.

Stiles kind of wished someone would stab him and put him out of his misery, because this level of adorable was too much for one human being to physically handle.

On the other side of the room, Laura watched him with a terrifying smirk. Stiles was pretty sure she knew exactly what he was thinking, which helped him rein in the desire to just throw himself on Derek and pledge undying love. He sure as hell wasn't doing that in front of Derek's sister.

Despite the interruptions, they finished up the shoot in less than two hours, and Stiles had a boatload of footage with Derek and the wolf cubs to use in the holiday episode. Even better was that he had a ton of outtakes to use on the station website, which would make everybody happy.

Laura bid them farewell, staring at Stiles like she could see straight into his soul the entire time. Stiles steadfastly ignored her and really hoped she wouldn't say anything to Derek.

"Your sister's kind of scary sometimes," he said as they pulled away.

"She's harmless," Derek said. "Mostly."

Stiles raised his eyebrows. "Mostly harmless?"

Derek grinned. "Just like Earth."

Stiles laughed out loud. He knew Derek was a not-so-secret nerd, but he still got a kick out of it every time Derek made a reference.

"Do you have a minute?" Derek asked when they got back to the Hale house. "I have something to show you."

"Yeah, sure," Stiles said. He didn't really have anywhere else to be, and even though it was almost painful to be around Derek alone for so long, he didn't want the day to end.

He followed Derek back into the house and down to the basement, and Derek went to a stack of paintings under cloth in the back corner of the room. Stiles stayed back and watched him flip through the canvases until he apparently found the one he wanted and pulled it out.

He walked back to Stiles hesitantly, still holding the canvas backward so that Stiles couldn't see what it was.

His heart beat faster. "What you got there, big guy?"

Derek bit his lip. "I don't...paint people often. But, with this one, I wanted to try, and..." He trailed off and exhaled sharply, and then handed the painting to Stiles. "Here."

Stiles took the painting and slowly turned it around.

It was him.

He was laughing, his mouth wide open and his eyes crinkled at the corners, looking off to the left side of the canvas. The colors were so warm, it looked like he was glowing, and Stiles's heart seized in his chest.

"Where did you...how did you...?" he tried to ask, but the words wouldn't come.

"It was a picture Allison took at one of the station parties earlier this year," Derek said quietly. "I had her send me a copy. I probably threw away five pieces before I was happy with that one. It was...really hard to get right."

He felt completely winded. "Holy shit, Derek."

Derek winced and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry, I—"

"Don't you dare apologize," Stiles said. He couldn't take his eyes off the painting, because holy fuck Derek had painted him. "Don't—oh my God, dude, this is—"

He didn't have words. For once in his life, Stiles was utterly speechless.

He set the painting down, walked over to Derek, and kissed him right on the lips.

Derek blinked dazedly when Stiles pulled back. "Uh."

"I'm kind of in love with you," Stiles blurted out. "Maybe a lot in love with you. Holy shit, I can't believe you painted me. Do you want to go out for coffee sometime?"

Derek laughed softly. "I feel like we went in reverse order there."

"Dude, you painted me," Stiles said. "I'm pretty sure that's one step before engagement."

Derek flushed bright red. "I think that's moving a little too fast. But...coffee would be nice. Or maybe dinner?"

"Dinner would be fantastic," Stiles said. "And, to be perfectly honest, I would not be opposed to more kissing. Better kissing. That one was really just because I had no idea what to say because you fucking painted me."

Derek grinned and bent his head toward Stiles's. "So, I take it you liked the painting?"

Stiles linked his hands behind Derek's neck. "Yes, Derek, I liked the pain—"

Derek kissed him, and Stiles had never been happier to shut up in his life. And he was right: this was way better kissing. Derek was probably better at kissing than he was at painting, and he was awesome at painting.

"You know, uh, if you ever want me to actually sit for you to paint, I'd do it," Stiles said when they finally stopped making out long enough to breathe.

"You'd have to sit still for a few hours," Derek said. "I'm not sure you could manage it."

Stiles poked him in the shoulder. "Hey, you'd be surprised what I could do for you."

Derek's smile went soft. "Oh, yeah?"

Heat crept up the back of Stiles's neck, and he fought the urge to look away. "Well. Yeah. Obviously."

"I'll keep that in mind," Derek said, and leaned in close. "Merry Christmas, Stiles."

"Merry Christmas, Derek," Stiles whispered before Derek sealed their lips together once again.

#comedicdrama #stereksanta17 #*fic17 #*gifts17

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in-the-name-of-styles · 7 years

Text

The one where it’s too late.

The fourth addition to the Divorce Series AU. Let me know if you guys are enjoying it, if I should continue writing it. ENJOY! :)

“Oh, well it was nice meeting you…” Harry says and nods towards Miles, and turns to walk away. He is furious, not on you, but on himself. He is the one who suggested the divorce. He is the one who was sure that you no longer belonged together, then why is he feeling this unbelievable amount of hatred towards the man standing right beside you, the man who was behaving so comfortable in a house which belonged to him not long ago.

He abruptly turns and walks back to you, “You do remember about the parent teacher meeting, right?”

You nod your head, “Yeah, of course I do…” you look at him with a perplexed expression, not knowing why he couldn’t just ask you this later on the phone.

“Of course you remember… You’re like the best mum ever!” he laughs nervously. Your jaw drops wide open, you were so confused by his behaviour. He nods his head and begins to walk away. Not long after he turns back to you again, “The blanket. You forgot the blanket. Alec’s favourite blanket..”

“Harry you’re holding it…” you tell him pointing towards the blank he was holding.

He realizes and quickly walks out of the door. He is feeling as if his whole body is itching. He needs to get back home. He needs to call Grace, even when she isn’t the one he wants with him right now. He turns to look towards her, to see if she is waiting by the door, to watch him leave, just like she always does when he leaves with the kids. But he feels his heart crack a bit when he finds the spot empty. He shakes his head climbs into the car and drives off.

Back at YN’s house Miles looks at her, “Well that wasn’t awkward at all.” He teases.

“I’m so sorry, I really didn’t think he would just-”

“Hey, no problem at all. Let’s just get back to our amazing dinner at home first date.” He lightly pull you towards him and walks you back to the kitchen.

“He really is gorgeous though. Man, did he intimidate me. The cameras really don’t do him justice.” He says.

“Well then why didn’t you just ask him out?” You joked

He throws his head back and laughs, “I don’t know? I was pretty sure that I’m straight before I met the guy!”

You laugh and shake your head. You start placing the dishes on the table when he whispers “But what can I say, even after all these years, I’ll always be a sucker for the girl right in front of me”

“Hi, baby!” she greets him once she answers his call. Grace is a sweet girl. A girl, every boy dreams about. Tall, beautiful, had an amazing body and a good heart. What else could he ask for, right?

“Hey, umm… I was wondering now that I have the kids for two days, you could come to my place and have dinner with us. The kids would love to meet you.” He asks, he knows that the step he is taking isn’t right. He isn’t sure where they are heading so he really shouldn’t include the kids, but after seeing Y/N with Miles, he wants to distract himself from the thoughts he was having at the moment.

To say that Grace was shocked is an understatement. She didn’t think that Harry would be introducing her to his kids so early into their relationship, but she likes him enough to take this huge step.

“I’d love to, baby!” she exclaims.

“Well I’ll see you back at my place then?” he asks, he was already regretting his decision to invite her at a family dinner, but now he couldn’t just take his words back.

Once he arrives back home, Zara greets him with a cold look. “What did your old man do to deserve that look?” he inquires.

“Don’t act as if we didn’t hear anything that happened at our house, Papa!” she screeches.

He sighs and meets her wild gaze, “What happened between your mother and I, shouldn’t worry you or your brothers, okay pet?”

“Well, when you and mama are fighting and yelling on top of your lungs, knowing we are just downstairs, we can’t help but listen to it!” she snaps.

“Lower your voice, young lady. I’m your father and I won’t have you talking to me in that tone.” He scolds.

She sighs, “But papa-”

“This conversation is over. I don’t want you worrying about adult problems, got it? Your mama and I just want you and your brothers to be happy.”

“But we can’t be happy, can we?! Not when you guys can’t even have a civil conversation with each other without starting a massive fight” she complains.

“I’m done with this talk. A friend o’ mine is coming over to have dinner with us, please be good and welcoming towards her.” He retaliates. At this statement Zara scoffs and rolls her eyes. Did her father really think she is that stupid?

“Really papa?… A friend? Please tell me you don’t actually believe that we, at least I don’t know about your new girlfriend-”

“Zara Anne Styles, I’m warning you, you talk back to me one more time and you are grounded for an entire month and I’ll make sure your mother knows about it.” He threatens. He knows the divorce has been heartbreaking for the kids, that they were having difficulties adjusting to the situation, he shouldn’t be surprised by his daughter’s behaviour, but he won’t let her disrespect her parents.

Harry greets Graces with a simple kiss on her cheek, he didn’t want the kids, especially Alec and Zara to feel uncomfortable around them.

“Hey, glad you could join us.” He says and gives her a quick side hug.

“I’m more than glad to meet them!” she says just when the kids come out to welcome her. Zara had a scowl on her face as she held William on her hip. Alec was just busy fondling with the toy in his hands.

“Kids, this is Grace, a close friend o’ mine.” He tells them and then turns towards Grace. “These are my kids, the eldest is Zara with my youngest little monkey, William and then we have the smartest little seven year old, Alec.” He introduces.

“Hi everyone, I’m so happy to finally meet you! I have bought a big packet of candies for you guys, everybody loves candy, right?!” she squeals. Harry tries to warn his daughter through his eyes but that didn’t stop her from trying to scare of Grace.

“I’m sorry but I have a massive repulsion for overly sweet things…” Zara fake smiles at the lady in front of her. Usually she wasn’t this rude to anyone but if Grace is planning to replace her mama, she won’t have it.

“Oh well that’s a bummer…” Grace lets out a nervous laughter.

“Well, dinner is ready, shall we go to the dining table?” Harry declares, he gentle rubs her back and gives her an apologetic look.

That night the dinner was a complete disaster, with Zara ending up accidentally spilling her curry over Grace’s dress and William throwing a fit at the same time, wanting his father’s attention on him. He apologized to her and told her that they could try this some other time. She told him that it’s okay and that she would love to do this again and left his house in a rush.

Harry had no idea that his life was about to change, and maybe it wasn’t for the best.

Three Months Later…

You feel familiar light kisses on your neck as you wake up after having an amazing good night sleep. This is the most satisfied you have felt in a while. You wouldn’t want to change anything about your life. Miles is such a great guy, he would do anything to see you smile, and you feel so lucky to have him.

“Wake up, baby…” He whispers in your ear, and tightens his hold on your waist. You smile and slowly shift to face him. You have no idea how he managed to be such a important part in your life again. It didn’t take a lot of time for the two of you to get serious. The kids loved him, even though Zara acted a bit cold towards him, but he assures you that he understands that it can be quite difficult to accept things like these and that he’s ready to wait.

“Hmm… I could get use to mornings like these.” You say, he laughs and kisses your cheek. You run your hand softly through his hair. He rubs your back gently and pulls away from you, his eyes taking in your beauty.

“Well you can have many more morning like these… I’ve already asked you and the kids to move in with me, and I know you want to but you’re quite stubborn admit it to yourself and keeping telling me how it’s too soon.” He says as he pulls his trousers up his legs. You prop yourself on your arm as your palm supports your head. “You know I’m right, it’s too soon. We’ve been together for what? More than two months?” You explain.

He falls back on your bed and climbs on top of you, “Three months to be exact, but who’s counting, right? I don’t see the problem here, you have a pretty successful career as a literature professor and earn well for you and your family, and as far as I go, I think I’m doing pretty well for myself too. I mean, being a CEO of a multinational company is good, right?

“and so what if it’s too soon, I know you’re it for me… unless you are just using me for my charming looks and amazing intellect.” He jokes and places a quick kiss on your nose.

You smiles and shake your head. You push him aside and get out of the bed. You walk towards your closet, “I’ll think about it, Miles, but you know that it’s a big responsibility. If I was just me we were talking about, then things would’ve been different but I have three children and you have one”, you continue as you pull your t-shirt over your head, “plus I’ll have to talk to Harry about it, and I don’t think he’ll be happy after hearing that I’ll be planning to sell the house if we agree to move in with you.”

He sighs, then flops down on the bed and looks towards the ceiling, “Please can you just promise me that you’ll talk to him about it today when he comes over?” he shifts his gaze to you. He felt very lucky to have you in his life. Never in a million years did he think you would be back in his life in such circumstances. He knew that earning your love will be hard but he is willing to work for it.

“I will, I promise.”

The two of you walk downstairs to see Zara already on the breakfast table. “Good morning, doll! You’re up early today..” You greet her with a kiss on her forehead.

“Yup, just thought I should help you with some chores today.” She says and looks at Miles follows right after you, “Hey Miles, good morning.” she greets.

“Good morning, Zara!” he smiles and turns to you and says, “I’ll wake Lily up and we’ll be on our way. I know how much you like to spend mornings with the kids so we’ll let you be.” He kisses you cheek as you give him a grateful smile.

Miles leaves with Lily and just when as you’re done setting up the table the doorbell rings. Meredith opens the door and is greeted by Harry and Grace. She isn’t shocked to see Harry but she certainly is shocked to see the girl beside him. Harry gives her a smile and a side hug as the two of them enter the house. In these three months the kids had gotten to know both Grace and Miles, but for some reason they prefer Miles over Grace.

“Papa!” William wobbly runs up to him. Harry kneels down to lift him up and places many kisses on his soft cheeks.

“Look at you! How’s my baba doing, huh?” he coos. Grace smiles at them and walks over to give you a hug. You have gotten use to her coming over now. You understand that Harry likes her company, so you were working on being civil towards her, because you certainly wanted him to be the same towards Miles, but unfortunately he wasn’t willing to do that for you.

“Good morning, you two! Had a good drive?” you ask them as you lead them towards the breakfast table. They nod and take a seat around the table.

“Thank god, London doesn’t have the LA traffic!” Grace points out to you and you give her a small laugh.

Luckily the breakfast went by smoothly. It was when Zara excused herself back to her room and Grace took the kids to the play room, Harry offers to help you clean the table. Meredith takes it as a cue to leave the room and let the two of you have your privacy.

“You know, you don’t have to do this.” You tell him, still give him an appreciative smile. He looks at you and shrugs his shoulders.

“I want to.”

After a moment of silence he starts asking you about Miles, which honestly you expected him to. “So how’s everything with Miles Johnson?”

“I don’t know why you always call him by his full name all the time. Just call him Miles, like everyone does!” You let out a light laugh.

“You didn’t answer my question…” he persists. You sigh and start loading up the dish washer.

“Everything is going great, Harry. The kids enjoy his and Lily’s company, and they treat her as their little sister.” You reply.

“Everything is going great with Grace too, you know. She pretty amazing.” He tells you, even though you didn’t ask him. You give him a smile and a nod.

“That’s good to hear. I’m glad she makes you happy” you trail of and pat him on his back, nut he is looking at you with what you think was certain longing. You snap out of your thoughts and continue loading up the dishes. Not knowing that he is opening his mouth to say something you interrupt him,

“Now that we are talking about our respective relationships, I have to tell you something” you absent mindedly continue your work and ask him as he stands there leaning against the counter, as he sways his heels back and forth.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“This may come as a shock but I might be selling this house in the coming months.” You declare.

He gasps after hearing those words. He loses his balance because of his posture. He slips and falls flat on the ground. You gasp and rush to help him. “Jesus Christ! Are you okay?!”

He nods and takes your hands to he could use them to stand back on his feet. Once he is well and situated, he clears his throat and takes a deep breath, “pardon me?”

“Drink this, are you sure you’re okay?” you question him. He shakes his head at you. He pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, and then and asks you the same question,

“I’m sorry what did you just say? I don’t think I heard you right.”

“I said drink this-”

“No before I slipped.” He fumbles.

“Oh that… I said, I might be selling this house…” Harry closes his eyes and brings his hands over his mouth to cover it. He shakes his head as if it will lessen the blow of those words he just heard.

“Why…Why would you want to do that? I thought… I thought you guys were happy here?” He is trying to understand this decision you’ve taken but he is clearly failing. Just when his is about to bring his hands to his hips he abruptly stops.

“What?” he snaps his head towards you.

“Miles wants me and the kids to move in with him.” You nervously repeat your words which he must’ve zoned out on.

He takes a step towards you, “Are you fucking with me right now, YN?” he lets out a fake laugh and whispers aggressively.

“What? No! Why would I do that?” You retaliate and furrow your eyebrows.

“So you’re telling me that you are taking my kids and moving in with a guy you hardly know for what, three months?!” he scoffs, “Is Miles Johnson planting these ideas in your head? He is, isn’t he? He thinks now you guys can rekindle your fuckedup love story, and that maybe now finally after all these years, the two long lost high school sweethearts can have their happy ending!” He fires, feeling nothing but envy against Miles.

“Oh my god, are you listening to yourself? I told you that I haven’t decided anything yet, I’m still thinking about it, but I thought that maybe I should let you know, so if I actually did decide to take this step so it won’t come as a shock to you! Harry, the mortgage of this house isn’t exactly cheap, and for your information what I do in my relationship with Miles, shouldn’t concern you.” you defend yourself. He lets out a laugh of disbelief.

“Well my children are included here, so I have a legal right to be concerned about it. Plus I’m helping you with the money, so what’s the matter?! Is it the money? Is that it? I’m willing to contribute more for our children if thats the case, YN!” He yells with a hint of plead in his tone.

“No Harry, money isn’t the problem here-”

“Then why the fuck do you want to give up on this house, YN?!” He raises his voice which makes you jump up in fright and widen your eyes.

“The house which we made all our special memories in. This is the house we conceived our children in for god sake! This is our house, YN! You can’t just give up on it! How can you even bring such a thought in your mind?!” he cries and pulls you towards him by the arms.

Silence takes over between the two of you. The only sound you can hear is the heavy breaths of the man standing in front of you. In that moment you knew you are looking at the man you fell in love with. This is the Harry you once had married, the one who got lost all those months ago. But then all those memories… the fights, the loud screams, the breaking of furniture entered your mind.

“I think you’ve have forgotten that along with all those good memories, we have created a lot of painful memories too. Have you forgotten about the loud screams, the fights, the breaking of furniture all when the kids we conceived in this house were scared to death in the room right next to ours? Mainly, did you forget that in this exact house you told me that you had fallen out of love with me, huh? How you left me to drown in my tears, all this in this very house, Harry…” you whimpered.

Tears stream down his face as you try to pull away from him. You are thankful that the children aren’t even close to kitchen, so they couldn’t hear the two of you.

“Please don’t do this, YN” he whispers and tightens his hold on you, he tries to pull you closer, “everything has been so hard for the past few months. I feel so alone and lost…”He whimpers as he cries for you and attempts to wrap his arms around you.

“Harry, someone will see us… Let me go!” You frantically try to pray his arms off you, not wanting the children or Grace to walk in on this sight.

“I think… I think we’ve made a mistake. Nothing seems right anymore, baby…” he says in a panic-stricken voice and cries softly.

“No…No, you don’t get to do this to me, Harry!” You push him off you. Seeing him this broken should please you. All those months he made you cry, and left you alone replayed your mind. But still after all this time, seeing him like this broke your heart.

But suddenlya decision is made for you.

“I’m selling this house and the kids and I are moving in with Miles.”

“No, I won’t let you do this! You think you’re making the right decision but you aren’t!” He wipes his tears off and moves towards you. You take a step back and stop him.

“Please get a grip, Harry. You don’t want the kids to see you like this. We’re done talking about this.” You conclude, and take deep breaths to calm yourself.

“If you were trying to hurt me by being in a relationship with him, then you win. It’s hurting me more than you think. I feel like punching him everytime I see you with him. I hate they way you smile at him, because I know it is close to the smile you used to give me! I’m so jealous of him, that I would do anything to get you back, YN. Anything!” he confesses.

“It isn’t always about you, Harry! It never was! It’s about me, I want to be happy! I deserve to be happy too!” you cry.

“So you’re saying I didn’t make you happy?!” he screeches, “what about our wedding day? Everything I did was for you! What about….When our children were born?! Weren’t you happy then?” he questions with a crack in his voice, “Tell me…”

You turn to walk away, just when you’re about to exit kitchen you say, “When you used to be the Harry I fell in love with, every moment with you was the happiest I had ever been in my entire life. But then you were gone, Harry, and I couldn’t stop you. I needed you… and I needed you to need me back.”

This time you were the one who left him hanging.

A/N Now, is it team Harry or team Miles 😏? Did you expect that?! What are you expecting next? LET ME KNOW AND REQUEST FOR A PART FIVE HERE !!

Hope you enjoyed reading this! If you liked it please HEART and REBLOG it, so others can read my stuff too!

Checkout my other writings HERE. I love you guys! :) xx

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theessaflett · 5 years

Text

Meredith: An Queer Faerie Story

Fairy tales.

What are they? What are they about? Who’s story do they tell?

There’s a comforting reliability to these old childhood stories, a knowledge that we already understand how these sorts of things usually go.

Once, in a far off land, there was a girl. Once, in a far off land, there was a boy. They loved each other very much, and were betrothed to marry in the spring. The boy was a farmer, the girl spun at the spinning wheel in her family’s cottage. Everything was good. Until the day that a witch arrived in the village. Until-

Wait. That’s not how this story goes. Let me try again.

Once, in a small village not so different from one such as this, there was a young woman, trapped in a tower by an evil stepmother. She had skin the colour of creamy milk, hair the colour of sun-kissed straw on a hot summer’s day. Her name was Leah, and she spent her days staring out of her only tiny window waiting for someone, anyone, to rescue her from her prison. One day a prince was riding by when his stallion, black as the darkest night, unexpectedly stopped and-

No, that doesn’t sound right either.

…You see, we are no longer in the world of farm boys, spinning wheels and wicked witches. Our twenty-first century lives are filled with computer screens and fast food chains, our lungs filled with the smell of exhaust fumes rather than manure. And yet, if you know where to look, the inexplicable still lingers. That flicker in the corner of your eye. A shadow where no shadow should be. This new kind of magic is just as likely to be found in a spark of electricity or the rumble of a pneumatic drill as it is in the sigh of a wave or the prick of a needle. And so, I think it might be time to tell you a new story. Are you sitting comfortably?

08:15

Once upon a time it was a very ordinary Monday morning.

We are in London. It is Spring. A wet, grey day, the type that British people are grimly proud about and yet still secretly hate. A young woman called Sara stood at the bus stop, looking up at the rain clouds and hoping it wouldn’t pour before her bus arrived. The only other person waiting beside her was a huddled figure, buried underneath an old-fashioned rain mac. “I’d stop wishing, if I were you,” the figure said suddenly, the crisp English accent revealing that she was a woman. “They’re funny like that. The rain will only come faster.” Sara frowned in confusion, surreptitiously trying to edge away from her odd, unexpected companion. “I’m sorry…They’re…?” “Oh. Of course, this is yesterday, isn’t it. Sorry about that. I’ll come back tomorrow.” “What do you mean, this is yesterday? Yesterday is yesterday.” “Of course it is,” said the figure kindly. “So sorry, I must have got it confused with last Tuesday. You should really buy an umbrella, Sara. You’re going to be soaked by the end of the day. And you really should stop absent-minded wishing. It’s a bad habit. After all, you never know who might be listening.” Sarah stared at the strange woman, face still obscured underneath the hood. “Sorry, how do you know my na-“ There was no-one there. She was alone at the bus stop. As if on cue, the rain started. By the time her bus arrived, a very damp Sara had convinced herself that the whole thing was an over-tired hallucination. She hadn’t been getting much sleep recently, after all, and everyone knew that sleep was very important when it came to brains working properly. She squeezed on, head stuffed into a stranger’s armpit, and, for once, hoped that the rest of the day would be much more uninteresting.

13:20

Sara sat at in her cramped swivel chair, in front of her cramped desk, in her small, cramped office, her bizarre start to the morning mostly forgotten. Slightly higher up the food chain from the interns but barely more than an assistant, this was hardly what she’d imagined when she’d moved to London three years ago to ‘make it’ in the world of journalism. The whole ‘being a journalist’ thing hadn’t quite worked out and she’d found herself settling for trying to be an editor, which in turn had turned into settling for being a proof reader for the Baking Recipes & Slimming Tips pages for an agonisingly dull magazine called Women’s Digest. It was a 2-page double spread. Sara wasn’t sure if anyone else saw the irony. She leant back for a moment, tired of trying to breathe some life into a very limp article about the three most interesting uses for raisins, and looked around. Photocopier hum, keyboard tapping, phone ringing, the smell of bad coffee and stale sweat. How had this become her normal? The little girl that had once stared at stars and wrote fairy tales by torchlight, turned into an office drone? This was adulthood, Sara reminded herself with a sigh. This was most people’s normal. This was how rent was paid and milk was bought. She allowed herself one small 360 degree swivel on her chair before she got back to work, a tiny act of rebellion, rubbed her eyes and readied herself for more tedium. Except, rather than 572 words about raisins, there was something else entirely written on her computer screen.

IS IT TOMORROW YET?

Sara let out a yip of shock, frozen in surprise as she stared at the words. The words, looking suspiciously innocuous, stared back. She looked up, wildly searching for anyone laughing, giggling, anything to suggest that this might be a weird prank. Nobody caught her eye. After all, she didn’t exactly have many close friends in this job. Certainly no-one that would go to the trouble of teasing her with a bizarre joke. Slowly, Sara shifted her gaze back to the question typed out by an unknown hand.

IS IT TOMORROW YET?

At a loss for anything else to do, Sara slowly reached down, tapped two letters and hit send.

A pause, then a reply flashed up.

I’LL COME BACK LATER. REMEMBER TO EAT LUNCH

And just like that, the recipe for raisin bran was back.

19:18

Sara turned the key in the lock, pushed open her front door and sighed in relief that her drab little flat seemed to be exactly as she’d left it. After the weird sort of day she’d had she wouldn’t have counted out coming face to face with a massive tiger or some sort of weird portal into an alternate universe or…something. Still a little cautious, she went into the kitchen, pulled out a mug from the cupboard and switched on the kettle, pulling off her wet coat as the water started to boil. Sara turned to hang the coat on a chair and then, suddenly, there was a sensation like falling backwards and forwards at the same time, a dizzy blurring that caught her breath and stung her eyes. She reached out for something, anything, to steady her, thought that she was going to faint - and then, as suddenly as it had started, the feeling stopped. Sara stood there in the middle of the kitchen, heart racing, breath coming short, unsure of what she had just experienced. She was still holding the coat. But, she slowly realised with a sinking feeling in her stomach, it was now completely dry. The kettle was no longer boiling. She slowly turned to the window, somehow already knowing what she was about to see, and stared blankly at the morning sunlight streaming through the windowpane where early evening twilight should have been instead. It was still raining. “What the…” she whispered to herself, still frozen in place. “What the actual-“ Woodenly she pulled her phone from out of her pocket, then gazed uncomprehendingly at the date. “Tomorrow,” Sara breathed. “It’s tomorrow. But- how-” Suddenly, she knew what to do. Pulling her coat back on, grabbing her keys, she yanked open the front door and ran back down the street she had only walked up minutes earlier. Sara sprinted to the bus stop, lungs burning, feet slamming onto the wet pavement. “IT’S TOMORROW! IT’S TOMORROW NOW!” she shouted. “I DON’T KNOW HOW THE HELL YOU DID IT BUT IT’S TOMORROW NOW!” “There’s no need to yell.” The mysterious figure was huddled in her rain mac, now also holding an umbrella. “it was yesterday! I swear it was yesterday! Am I going mad? How can it be yesterday and then today? I mean today and then tomorrow? What? What is going on??” “Oh, of course. You still have no idea who I am. That’s annoying. Well, I bought you an umbrella. Cost a shilling but we’ll call it a gift.” She offered a bizarrely old-fashioned looking yellow umbrella, which Sara stared at for a second, beyond confused now, then switched back to the main matter at hand. “No, listen, it was - I was standing in my kitchen and it was the evening and now it’s tomorrow morning. How does that happen?” “I grew tired of waiting,” replied the woman. “I’m also getting tired of holding this umbrella. It’s customary to accept gifts when they’re offered, Sara.” At a loss for anything else to do, Sara took the umbrella, then opened it under the mysterious figure’s impatient gaze. “There. Now you’re less likely to catch a cold. Unless, of course, you fancy just getting the rain to stop.” “Gettin- What? I can’t stop the rain! What?! Who are you?” “Oh, this really is getting annoying.” A face squinted out at her, seemingly appraising her, then sighed. “Okay. Since I’ve gone to the bother of speeding this all up a little bit I might as well get started in earnest. Would you like a cup of tea?”

Sarah found herself following the woman to a grimy cafe with laminated menus and booths that had seen better days. She hadn’t noticed it before despite standing daily at the bus stop that was apparently opposite…but decided not to follow that thought any further in an effort to avoid any more mental instability. A middle-aged man wearing a red and white checked apron wandered over, wiping a dirty looking mug with an even dirtier looking rag. “All right, love? Same as usual?” Sarah looked up from propping the wet umbrella on the seat next to her and waited blankly for the other woman to speak before realising in shock that the man was addressing her. “Er, I haven’t actually-“ she started, trailing off as the man gave a grunt and nodded to her mysterious booth partner. ` “First time today then? Figured it would be one of these days.” “Yes, Sara and I are here to have a bit of a chat. We may need quite a lot of tea.” “I’ll put the kettle on. Would be good to have this rain stop for a bit, eh?” He winked at Sara as he headed back to the counter, a reassuring aside that did nothing to put her at ease. “Sorry, but what is going on? I’m really, really confused and just…well…” She trailed off, unsure as to what else she was. The woman opposite her finally pushed her hood down and untied the massive rain coat, surprising Sara as she did so. Quite the opposite from the mad-looking old woman she realised she’d been half expecting to see, this was a woman maybe in her early thirties, braided hair pulled back into a intricate tail, rich brown eyes staring at hers with a hint of humour. She was dressed, Sarah could see now, in a immaculate navy-blue suit and tie, just a little damp from the rain. “I know the creepy-old-man raincoat gives the wrong idea,” she said apologetically, “But when you’ve paid this much for a suit you don’t want to ruin it by getting it endlessly wet.” “Endlessly? It’s only been raining for, like, two days,” Sarah said, aware that she hadn’t really picked the most unusual part in all of this but deciding that it was best to start somewhere. “For you, maybe,” said the smartly dressed woman, sighing as she straightened her paisley-print tie. “Some of us don’t quite experience the world in such a…linear fashion. I’m Meredith. Have we really not even done that yet?” “..Sara,” Sara managed weakly. “Yes, yes, I know. First of all, let me apologise for dragging you forward a little bit. It wasn’t the most polite move but everyone is very clear on this being the day that we have this conversation and I had really just had had enough of waiting around.” “Everyone? Hang on, waiting around? You’ve been, like, stalking me?” “Stalking is a…harsh word. Believe it or not we do actually know each other very well indeed, although clearly not right at this moment.” “What, we’re, like, friends? I’ve never met you!” Meredith looked at her a moment with an uncomfortably penetrating gaze. “Hm. This is going to be a little trickier than I thought.” The man with the apron came back with two mugs, two milk jugs and a large pot of tea on a tray, next to a little plate of biscuits. Sara was deeply unnerved to realise that they were her favourite kind. “Thanks, Alan,” said Meredith. Alan set the tray down, gave them a smile and a nod and vanished off again. “Hiring Alan was a very good idea of yours,” she said absent-mindedly as she poured the milk. “And before you say anything, it’s almond milk.” “…You know I’m lactose intolerant…?” said Sarah, now so far beyond the point of comprehending anything that she’d reached an odd place of calm. “That’s…nice.” Meredith finished pouring the tea and sat back, idly tapping a finger on the side of her mug. “Drink your tea, Sara. Though possibly I should have gone for whisky. You might need it by the end of this.” Sarah numbly took a sip of what was, she had to admit, a perfect cup of tea, and glanced out the window at the deserted street, rain slithering and sliding down the glass. “Are we still on Edward’s Street?” She asked. “Or somewhere that just looks like Edward’s Street?” “We’re… adjacent to Edward’s Street,” Meredith replied. “We are looking at it. It’s just a little bit…paused, that’s all.” “Is this some Harry Potter thing?” Sarah blurted out. “Like, are you about to start waving around a wand or something?” Meredith rolled her eyes as she drank some more tea. “Now, you were much more close to the truth of the matter with the idea that the Edward’s Street we’re looking at might not necessarily be the Edward’s Street that we just left. Huh. Harry Potter. If I had a wand that would make life a lot easier, believe me.” “So…Look, you’re going to have to give me something to go on. I’m lost over here,” Sara said with sudden exasperation. “You’re a time traveller? You’re an alien with a spaceship? You’re a ghost? What’s the deal here?” “I don’t think I’m a time traveller in the way that you’re thinking,” Meredith replied, “But that’s the most accurate one from the list. Less Doctor Who, more…The best way to describe it is that I’m someone who slips in and out of places. Geographic places and…otherwise.” “Well that’s vague,” Sara replied sourly. “And I suppose during whilst you’re doing this “skipping backwards and forwards in time” thing we’ve met before? In my future? And now you, what, need my help with something? Look, I’m really not the person you think I am. Not that I know who you think I am. I’m…like… I’m not exciting. I’m from Cumbria, not an alien planet or… oh, I don’t know! I don’t know what’s going on or who you think I am but I’m not whoever that is,” Sara stopped, aware she was making very little sense. “Basically, you’ve got the wrong person. Can I…like…go? We might be, I don’t know, future work buddies or friends or whatever according to you but right now I really don’t know you.” Meredith scowled at her, and Sara was worried for a second that something awful was going to happen. What was she doing, annoying someone who messed around with time without breaking a sweat? “I’m not a plot device in one of your beloved Marvel films, Sara.” She seemed to make up her mind about something, leant forward. Sara half-noticed that Meredith smelt like freshly cut grass and rose blossom. It wasn’t unpleasant, and maybe even a little…familiar? Like an echo of a memory whispering to her from the past…or the future…? She shook her head slightly to dispel the odd thought. “Sara,” said Meredith in a tone that demanded full attention. She looked, bizarrely, a little embarrassed. “There’s something…ah…oh, there’s no easy way to say this.” “What?” “We’re not, as you so fondly put it, work acquaintances. You and I… we’re…” The pause hovered in the air, froze for a moment and then crashed back to earth as realisation struck. “What? What? We’re, like…We’re-” “No need to sound so thrilled, darling,” Meredith said dryly. “But yes. At some point in the near future that we can’t really wait to get to, it’s safe to say that you trust me quite a bit.” “Wait. Just hold on for a damn minute. If we’re…why are we even having this conversation? Wouldn’t I have told you about this? Couldn’t you just tell me what future me said happened?” Meredith smirked. “You did say that I made quite the first impression. But that fact that you just became more confused trying to even construct that sentence should explain why it doesn’t really work like that. It’s just too complicated. On the whole I try not to ask too many questions about things I’ve apparently yet to do - puts everything out of balance somewhat if I’m operating off a mental checklist of everything I have or haven’t yet done or said. But. You did say that I needed to show you this.” She loosened her tie, undid the top button of her shirt and fished out a necklace, a pendant the shape of a swallow hanging from a simple silver chain. “Where did you get that?” Sara snapped, staring at the necklace. “From you, Sara,” Meredith said with real impatience in her voice now as she tucked the necklace away again, fastened her top button and adjusted her tie back into its impeccable original position. “I know this is hard to comprehend but you’re really going to have to try and have this existential crisis a little bit faster. This is your mother’s necklace, the one that you promised her to keep safe, the one that you gave to me on our… well. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You gave me this necklace, Sara. Can you trust me now?” “Trust you?” Sara felt completely lost. She couldn’t relate to this future person, this Sara, who gave away family heirlooms and was apparently very important to the universe. “I don’t know if I can trust me. …Who am I?” “Who are you?” Said Meredith with a quirked eyebrow. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. You’re Sara. If you don’t know who you are then there’s not much chance for the rest of us.” “Well I obviously don’t know,” Sara said, hysteria rising, “Because I think I’m a very, very normal, boring 25-year-old who’s a copy editor for a bad women’s magazine, who grew up in the Lake District and is allergic to cats, whereas clearly there’s a rather different Sara going around who, like, knows about inexplicable cafes and dates mysterious women and, and, can do stuff to the weather?” Meredith gave an exasperated sigh. “That is the least helpful self-description that I think anyone has ever given about themselves, ever. All right. You, Sara Dawson, did indeed grow up in the Lake District and you are quite impressively allergic to cats. That’s where the correct part of your surmising ends. You’ve been a copy editor for all of a year so I hardly think it’s fair to say that that’s a large part of your personality, especially since you stop working there as of…well, today. And I doubt a boring person would be able to do what you’re able to do.” “And what is it exactly,” ground out Sara, completely at the end of her tether, “That I am able to do?” Meredith looked at her a moment. “I see I’m going to have to give you a nudge. All right. I wouldn’t normally do this but the time being what it is…” She held out a hand. “I’m sorry to spring this on you so suddenly, and so, well, brutally. I always hoped it was a little more gentle, but apparently not. I’m afraid you’re just going to have to trust me right now, Sara. Please.” Sara hesitated, then took the offered hand. It seemed like by this point it was better to continue forging forward in this utterly insane sequence of events than look back and realise how far from normal she’d somehow come. “Close your eyes,” Meredith instructed and Sara did so, feeling utterly foolish. “Right. I might as well warn you that this is probably going to be a little frightening. I realise that this thought is less comforting than it might be, given the context, but…I’m right here with you.” A second passed. Nothing. Two seconds passed. Nothing. Sara had just opened her mouth to say that whatever terrifying thing that Meredith thought might be happening it didn’t seem to be working when-

Suddenly, impossibly, Sara heard everything. Felt everything. It seemed overwhelmingly like life had, unbeknownst to her, been previously lived in a black and white photocopy, a dull 2D imitation of what existing could be, and now unexpectedly had brilliantly opened up into high definition 4D. Even as she marvelled at this new impossibly expanded world there was a distant, vague memory that this was how it had been at the start, at the very beginning of being Sara. But, oh! The joy, the power of that sensing, that feeling - the beat of her heart, the blood coursing through her veins, through Meredith’s veins, green shoots twisting up through the earth under the tarmac deep, deep below her feet, the electricity crackling in the air, even the slight vibrations of the very atoms making up the table, the floor, the air, the entire fabric of existence tangible and ready to mould into- “Sara! Stop!” With a gasp, Sara was sucked back into 2D, though not quite the same 2D she had left: that sense of feeling, of sensing, hummed in the background, ready to be pulled forward once more. Meredith, letting go, pushed her hands through her hair in a gesture that belied her stress. “Bloody hell, Sara. Let’s go easy on ripping apart the universe, shall we?” “I remember,” Sara said slowly, the world and Meredith reduced to muffled background noise as it all slowly fell into place. “I remember now. This is how I used to see things.” “Yes.” Meredith looked a little more calm as she drank her tea. “Until someone sensible on the Board decided that having a 1 year old playing around with the existence of life as we know it probably wasn’t the best idea. You were fitted with the mental equivalent of bicycle stabilisers. Something to hold everything in check until you were ready to actually control what you could do.” Sara frowned. “The board? What’s the board? A group of, I’m guessing, old white guys got together and decided to…what? Essentially… maim me? Didn’t I get a say in this?” “They’re not exactly guys and you were, again, let me state this, under one years old so couldn’t say much in the first place but, yes, I see your point. Which is why I’ve taken the metaphorical bicycle stabilisers off. Something that I’m sure several people will think is a terrible, terrible mistake on my part.” Sara looked at Meredith, really looked at her, for the first time, eyes slightly narrowed. “And why isn’t it a terrible, terrible mistake on your part?” She smiled slightly, cocking her head. “Because I know you. Someone who likes living on this world, who likes biscuits and sunrises and puppies and, well, generally being alive as much as you do, is unlikely to implode the universe. Not on purpose, at any rate.” “…What about not on purpose?” “…Well yes, that’s a slightly different matter. And why we should really get going, darling. We have an issue with the Board that needs your help but it’s probably a good idea you get a handle on things first. I know somewhere where you can test drive a few of your…capabilities without causing lasting damage to any small solar systems.” Sara drank the last of her tea and stood up as Meredith pulled on her damp coat. “You still haven’t explained who these board people actually are, Meredith.” “One thing at a time, dear,” said Meredith absent-mindedly as she steered Sara towards the door, picking up the umbrella as she did so. “Let’s start at the start and see where we go from there.” `”Oh come on, it can’t be that complicated.” “I really think you might be surprised about that…but if you insist…” The two of them slipped out of the cafe and into the rain. A moment later, both the cafe and the figures were gone. And a moment after that, if you listened carefully, drifting on the breeze, you might have heard: “They’re the board of WHAT?!”

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