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barbiecrocs · 3 months

Text

Bad Acting

Miguel O'Hara

Part 1 Part 2

tags! Actress x Businessman, masturbating(fem)

WC.1743

Barbies Note... I'm like the Boruto Manga the way I'm uploading once a month. Keep em waiting 😜😜😜 Anyway, not much to say but ENJOYYYYYYY

Bad News

You finally make it home after a painful morning meeting with your manager Lyla when you realize how much your back hurts. Setting your purse and jacket on the coat hanger by the door, you start feeling a buzzing sensation from your purse. Digging out the item you find that it’s your personal phone getting lit up by some unknown number. You press decline but they call again and send a text message before you can block them.

“I guess giving me the cold shoulder is the only way to get back at “him”, huh?”

You almost overlook the message, thinking it was some crazed fan who found your number until the gears in your head click. You kiss your teeth when you think of standing toe to toe with him in a heated verbal dispute that was most likely started by you out of sudden anger. “Fucker. How dare you?” You frown, muttering as you type those exact thoughts adding the question, “How did you get my number? I changed it like three times.” Onto the back. The reply you get is immediate. “I’m not supposed to say.” He says which is… ominous for sure but also a little out of character for him. Almost as if he weren't here to start an unnecessary argument with you or ruin the rest of your day. “We have better things to discuss. I have a favor to ask of you, but it’s the kind of thing that should be asked in person if you catch my drift.”

Hell. Nah. And that’s where you’ll leave it. In fact, you’ll wipe the pointless conversation from your memory.

You stare at your phone, the feeling of cringe almost overflowing as you read the text. No, you don’t catch his damn drift. His words don't answer any questions and only confuse you more after he drops a time and place for today before going radio silent.

. Seriously, the audacity of this man! To grab your personal number from where ever the fuck, or whoever the fuck, and contact you early in the morning like a close friend, knowing you are no longer that and hate his guts. Well, not his guts. More like his brother’s to be frank, but in your eyes they are basically the same person. Hell, Miguel is probably where Gabriel learned all his terrible behavior because why wouldn’t he take after his bigger brother? Anyway, despite knowing your distaste for the family, he still tried it? It truly makes you wonder if there's a brain up there, at least a working brain cell. Then he thinks that you’d meet up with him? That you’d do him a favor? Pshhhhh, a dream if he ever had one.

Setting the shower to your preferred temperature, you lock the door and shut the windows to prevent the steam from escaping. You set your phone face down on your bathroom’s pristine marble counter before getting ready to shower and laze around the house all day. Having already kicked off your shoes at the front door, you begin undressing. First, your socks, then leggings, next, your top and bra, and lastly your makeup. Drying your face, you close your eyes as a huge breath is sucked into your mouth and released in one big whoosh as a sigh. Almost all nerves are terminated except the last one that weighs on your mind, telling you this seems like a too-good-to-be-true dream.

But, even if it is, you won’t mind falling for it just this once because you rarely get a full day to yourself. Just think about all the things you can do. The thought makes a pleasurable shiver run up your spine, releasing a certain set of chemicals in your brain, and you refuse to deny what they want your body to do. Finally, the steam surrounds your body and it’s not long until you get caught up in the mood of things and start feeling another heartbeat between your legs. You step into the bathtub, with not only a small gratifying smile on your face but a different objective than what you originally came for. You let the water run down your body, watching it as it hits your chest as a whole before breaking up into multiple streams again. Some travel down the valley of your breast while others go haywire with all types of twists and turns after running down your boobs, ribcage, and curves of your midsection. Once you’re warm, you begin getting into position, knees to your chest, under the bathtub faucet switching the water from the shower head to the nozzle below.

The water wastes no time making its way to your clit making you gasp from the suddenness even though you should’ve been prepared since its release was in your hands. Nevertheless, this miniscule experience doesn’t dull the tender leg-shaking feeling the water gives you. The pressure, the warmth, the wetness, it’s everything as you let the water beat up on your clit in the best way possible. A hand sneaks around your butt, gently feeling around as to not break emersion before sliding your fingers into your pussy, but they don’t do much considering the lack of length on them. But you still crave a little more stimulation even going as far as pulling the hood on your clit back a bit before feeling your orgasm come on too quick for your liking. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and you will savor and drag it out for as long as you can. Trying to get more than 24 hours out of the 24 hours the day has given you. Plus, everything feels better when you have to wait for it, just like this day. Just like your orgasm, but it doesn’t hit you as it usually would. There’s a build-up to it that explodes with pleasure in the middle but also plateaus at the highest peak before gradually coming down with half-lidded eyes and a brain that buzzes oh so sweetly with every thought. You push away from the faucet and lay there until you can get a hold of your bearings, letting out a big sigh before rising to your feet to continue where you left off.

You feel excited as you step out of the shower and into your robe and slippers, only to realize that you finally have the opportunity to go through your whole skin and body care routine. The thought brings not only a smile to your face but also motivation to shave your whole body neck to toe. Another shiver skips down your spine but this time it was one of joy. Oh, how ecstatic you were for something so minuscule in others eyes. Mental Health Days with a sprinkle of body care have been one of your favorite things in the world ever since breaking up with your toxic ex. Your mind begins to drift into the past but you quickly stop yourself, only preaching to look forward in life, never back.

In the midst of jamming to your music and putting on your gel face mask you get a call. At first, you roll your eyes thinking it was Miguel again until you remember that you blocked his ass immediately after the interaction y’all had. You pat various places on your counter until looking down and see your phone missing, not having time to look for it, you tell Alexa to answer it for you.

“Hello-” Before you can get a whole sentence out a loud voice overcomes yours, “Finally the little diva picks up the phone. I’ve been calling you for the past 20 minutes. Do you have any idea how much my phone bill is gonna be?”

“You can’t blame that on me. You know, most people would stop calling after the third one and say, “Hm, it looks like she’s busy right now. I guess I’ll call later.” And go on about their day waiting for either a callback or a reasonable time to call again.” You huff, half frustrated that you can’t find your phone and half frustrated that Lyla interrupted your Mental Health day. Unbeknownst to you, Lyla retorts something but as said, it goes over your head as you search your house room to room, upside and down, and inside and out. In defeat, you stalk back into your bathroom, head down only to see your phone on the floor behind the toilet. You can feel your eye twitch before a reasonable roar rips through you and Lyla goes silent on the other side. It seems as if you’ve broken her train of thought because she begins talking about what she truly called you for. Which would seem like a relief for you, but in reality it’s not.

Anyhow, you put your phone down and begin the second half of your skincare, body care.

“Anyway, I noticed that your schedule seemed too empty today, so I did you a favor and-” Before she finishes her thought, you cut her off.

“NO!” You yell and everything goes quiet. Her breath hitches on the other side and you continue your thought after realizing she isn’t going to chip in. “My schedule is very much full today with me, myself, and I. No room for anything else today, sorry.” You say and right before you can hang up she manages to get a word in. “Oh, come on! You act like I filled up your schedule. I only booked one thing, which you would’ve known if you paid attention to your phone because I sent it to you! Plus you should drop the 'tude! Everything I do is for you and your success. I mean that as a friend and your manager.” Your shoulders sag seeing how right she is when you turn on your phone only to see ten missed calls and desperate texts. “Ugh, what is it even about?” Dread oozing from your voice.

“Read the calendar I sent you.”

“When is it?” You push for an answer which you still don’t get.

“Read the calendar I sent you!”

“Where is it?” You push once more, tipping her over the edge.

“READ THE CALENDAR- UGH YOU KNOW WHAT? I ALREADY KNOW YOU’RE DOING THIS TO GET ON MY NERVES, BYE GIRL.” She hangs up in your face and you silently chuckle to yourself, "Payback." You mutter. Opening up your text messages you see that she sent you one last text after the call.

'Hm, it's a link.' You think as you hesitate to tap, praying that this isn't another meeting.

Your thumb finally makes contact with the screen and a dark bubble in your stomach pops with relief. Well, half relief because it isn't another meeting, but a date?

MYSTERY MAN!! (Information below)

-DRESS FORMAL

-NO MONEY NEEDED (All expenses paid)

-FOOD AND ALCOHOL SERVED

-WEAR GOLD CLOTHING AND JEWELRY OR CLOSE TO IT

-THE DATE SHOULD LAST FROM 8:00PM TO AS LATE AS 12AM

-MOST IMPORTANTLY, HAVE FUN

-LYLA WILL BE IN THE ROOM TO ENSURE NO ONE GETS HANDSY yet ;)

XOXO, Your manager.

Knowing that you most likely won't be able to control whatever happens next, you pour yourself a moderate glass of red wine, turn on your favorite show, and kick back on your sofa to enjoy the rest of your mental health day before getting back up again.

Barbies Note... Two Barbie Notes in this chapter?🤨🤨🤨 Yes. Anyway I just wanted to say that this chapter was a bit of a snooze fest, ik ik but the next chapter should be more interesting with some lore dropping😼

#miguel o'hara smut #smut #miguel ohara #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #Business au #actress au

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jamalgripperton46290 · 1 year

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Sweet Puddin' (Harley Quinn x The Joker)

Jamal Gripperton's Masterlist

A/N (if you haven't already read it go read it now then come back)

A/N - HAPPY KINKTOBER ONCE AGAIN PPLS! (we got lots of kinky stuff going on in this one). This fic contains spoilers for the Suicide Squad movie so if you haven't watched it yet and you want to, this is your sign to click off.

P.S -I have never read the comics or seen any other movie besides suicide squad and know nothing about the dc universe so this might not be that accurate or whatever, just a small heads up. Google also told me that The Joker's name is Jack Napier, so we're going with that.

(This chapter is dedicated to our second ever commenter, but the first on Wattpad, ow10306010. Maybe you'd read this on another bus trip someday, who knows?)

•••

Reading a book and sipping espresso was Harley Quinn, who was in her cell, which now had a bed. After defeating the Enchantress and the Enchantress 'brother with the 'Suicide Squad' aka Deadshot, herself, Katana, Killer Croc, El Diablo, Captain Boomerang and Colonel Rick Flag. The air in her cell was the same as before she'd gone with the others to "save the world" at the risk of their lives, under Amanda's command. Cold, stale and funky smelling. It was still deathly quiet as before, only the occasional whirring of her espresso machine tore through the deafening silence of her solitude.

So yeah, I guess you could say that her life was better than a couple months prior. There was at least something else to do except hang off the tattered cloth that was tied to the upper bars of her cell, or when that was taken away, mope around on the floor. It was lonely, hell, it always was. Doesn't seem like that would change either considering she witnessed the helicopter her Puddin' was in blow up.

She was completely alone now, with no one that would care enough about her to have a single thought of her that wasn't negative after The Joker had passed. Flipping through the pages of her book as she read to take her mind off the loneliness she had and drinking a lot of espresso were her only ways to escape the burning in her heart.

Said burning was connected to the ticking time bomb, that once the whole thought of being lonely for the rest of her life and probably not ever escaping the literal and figurative prison she was in, would detonate on her already corrupted mind, thoughts and being. Erasing every one of the few faded memories she had left.

Just like what she did to The Joker.

"I did everything you said, I helped you!" Harleen spoke out breathlessly.

"Ah... you... helped me... by erasing my mind, what few. Faded. Memories I had?"

"No, you left me in a black hole of rage and confusion" The words fell off his tongue, laced in venom, spite and rage.

"Is that the medicine you practice? Doctor Quinzell?"

"What are you gonna do, you gonna kill me Mr. J?" Harleen had tried to hide her fear but failed as her tone and eyes gave her away.

"Oh, I'm not gonna kill ya, I'm just gonna hurt ya, really, really bad."

"You think so? Well, I can take it"

The Joker snapped the brown belt in his hands and placed it between her teeth.

"I wouldn't want you to break those perfect, porcelain capped teeth, when the juice... hits your brain." He whispered the last part and gripped the mysterious items in his hands.

Then, he pressed them to her temples.

The memory made the bile at the back of her throat even more sour as she pushed the thoughts back and tried to put her mind back to her book but unfortunately, failed to do so as more and more memories came rushing to her at full speed.

Nine huge, bubbling tubs of Ace Chemicals sat far below the platform Harleen and The Joker were stood on. Harleen stared at the tubs blankly as The Joker stood a few feet behind her. Smoke or steam, she couldn't tell, floated above the tubs, small lights encircled them as well.

"Question..." The Joker's voice spoke out from behind her. He never failed to make her weak, no matter how little or how much he did.

"Would you die... for me?" He walked a few steps closer to her, so did Harleen.

"Yes" Harleen replied almost immediately.

"That's too easy..." The joker paused to think for a second.

"Would you... Would you live for me?"

"Hmm?" He spoke again once she didn't reply for a few seconds.

"Yes"

"Careful, do not say this oath, thoughtlessly."

"Desire becomes surrender, surrender becomes power." The Joker continued in a hushed, whisper like tone.

"You want this?"

"I do" Harleen replied.

"Say it, say it, say it, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty..." He whispered.

"Please?" Harleen's tone was on the brink of begging.

"Oh God, you're so... good."

The Joker took a few steps back and Harleen's back was facing where the tubs were. She leaned back and begun falling, falling into the tub of bleach whit chemicals and to her probable demise. He stared over the edge after Harleen fell into the tub.

While walking over to the door, he paused, letting out a frustrated sound, he turned around and took off his jacket, walking over to the edge of the platform again and jumped off, into the tub. He pulled Harleen's body up to the surface and connected their lips in a searing kiss.

As he pulled away, Harleen gasped for air and The Joker started laughing maniacally.

Harley shook her head, as if clearing her head of all the other memories of him. Suddenly, the wall behind her had blown up and multiple armed people speedily walked in, shooting every guard in sight. After successfully breaking into her cell, a masked man walked towards her, Harley stood up from her bed and blandly stared at him as he took off his mask. Underneath the mask was The Joker.

"Puddin'!" Harley wrapped her arms around him joyfully.

Although she was confused how he was here and how he wasn't dead, when she watched him be blown up. Excitement still flooded her, he was here. Here in her arms, next to her. Living and breathing. Harley couldn't believe it.

"Let's go home" He drawled out.

The Joker scooped her up into his and carried her back to his car, placing her body onto the seat. Pressing his foot on the gas, the car's engine roared beneath them. As the pair speedily cruised through the pretty empty streets, The Joker grew more and more impatient, moving one of his hands to Harley's thigh, groping and kneading it as he drove.

The hunger that had bubbled through him the entire time the two had been separated festered in him, bubbling up like boiling soup on the stove. He couldn't just wait 'till he got home to pounce, but he had to. Pressing his foot even harder against the gas, a race against the clock until the insatiable hunger in him bubbled over, leaking all the emotions he'd been holding until he had Harley back in his arms.

God, he missed her. He could barely keep the already destructed little shards and pieces of his sanity together as he worked relentlessly to get her back in his arms. He missed her body, the amount of control he had on her and how he had her wrapped around his pinky finger. If he could, he would pull over right now and fuck her into an oblivion until she's a crying, squirming, overstimulated mess.

However, The Joker didn't want to just pull over and fuck her senseless on the side of the road in the confined space of his car. He wanted it to be in the comfort of his own home, behind closed doors and against a large, comfortable mattress in the plush, soft sheets of his bed. So, he pushed his desire for her away and continued driving.

Soon, the sun had gone and welcomed the cold embrace of the moon and night. The streetlights -which were now on- cast a warm glow below them, lighting up the roads and sidewalks.

After what had seemed like decades, they arrived at The Joker's house which was -obviously- much bigger than a normal house, a mansion if you will. He hastily parked the car and led her back to his room. Sinful thoughts flooded his mind even more every step they took closer to the comfortable, solitary confines of his room, Harley seemed to be thinking about things similar to what he was, judging by the rose tint that spread across her face and the sudden silence of her sly comments and small giggles.

Opening the door to The Joker's bedroom, Harley was pinned against the wall as The Joker's lips were smothered and slotted between her own. Teeth clashing and tongues sliding against each other, the lewd sounds of their lips meeting filled the room along with the occasional moan or groan. The kisses were full of desperation and lust, his hands were also full of desperation and lust as they aimlessly roamed Harley's body, groping the soft, fleshy skin.

"Take off those clothes, doll" Jack spoke slightly breathlessly after he pulled away from the kiss.

A grin grew on Harley's face as she peeled off her clothes while maintaining eye contact with him. Jack sat on the bed, hungry eyes devouring the sight before him as the tent in is pants grew larger. Slowly taking off the last of her clothes and tossing the garments somewhere, Harley innocently batted her lashes at him, her lip caught between her teeth.

"Come to daddy" Jack slurred as he took off his shirt.

Harley giggled at his words as she walked up to him. Jack motioned for her to get down on her knees, so she did. She looked up at him through her lashes, patiently waiting for him to say something.

"Show me how much you missed me" He whispered in a seductive tone.

After hearing those words fall from his lips, she began to unbuckle his belt and push his pants down. Beads of precum leaked out of his rosy tip, taking it into her mouth and paying special attention to the slit. Jack groaned at the feeling, tilting his head back as he'd remember the euphoric feeling of her lips wrapped around him.

Bobbing her head up and down, her saliva dripping down his length and pooling at the base. Harley gagged slightly once the tip deliciously hit the back of her throat. Groans slipped off Jack's lips as pleasure engulfed him like a warm blanket of ecstasy. He continued pushing her head down and fucking her throat as lewd sounds floated around the room. As Harley continued is cock twitched in the warm cavity of her mouth, just before shooting hot, sticky sperm down her throat.

"Go on, swallow it all" Jack growled, hazy eyes watching her as she did so.

A smirk grew on his face as he lifted her up and placed her on the bed, her back against the plush material. Slowly, he spread her legs apart and inched his face closer to her throbbing, dripping core. Harley let out a shaky breath as her eyes followed his, practically drowning in anticipation of what he was going to do.

Harley softly gasped at the sensation of Jack shamelessly spitting on her sex, her arousal mixing with his saliva. Still maintaining eye contact, he dragged his now flattened tongue from her weeping hole up to her throbbing clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. Her thighs twitched slightly at the feeling, soft whimpers escaping her throat as he sucked her clit.

As Harley's hips rolled and thighs twitched in pleasure as Jack tongue fucked her tight hole, he wrapped his arms around her thighs, forcing them apart and still as he worked his mouth quicker. Drawing out more moans and whimpers from Harley's soft, plump and swollen lips. (the ones on her face ya dirty dawg) Jack slurped, sucked and licked at her fluid leaking cunt, making her hips buck and her fingers grasping at the messy strands of his hair, tugging and pulling at them. As Jack continued eating her out, Harley un-knowingly tried to push his head away from her aching core, too engulfed in her pleasure to notice that she was.

"If you want me to eat you out 'till you cum then don't try to push me away" Jack mumbled against her pussy lips before delving right back in, tongue and all.

The more he worked her pussy, the closer she got. It was pure ecstasy, her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she clenched around his tongue, a symphony of moans and chanting of his name as if he was a god that was about to condemn her to the fiery pits of hell.

Jack groaned as her cum painted his tongue, his taste buds practically exploding from the taste, making sure to slurp up every drop of her delicious nectar. Pulling away from her wet core, her slick covered his lips and dripped down his chin. Jack then connected their lips together in a slow and sensual kiss, their tongues sliding and lips connecting and disconnecting. Harley pulled away and chuckled softly at the look in his eyes.

"Get on your hands and knees baby, you know how. Face down, ass up" Jack growled out with a grin on his face.

Harley did exactly as he said, her hands gripped the cozy sheets that lay beneath her, the same sheets that would soon be covered in bodily fluids. Jack grabbed his length, rubbing the tip against her increasingly wet folds before slamming all of it into her tight, warm hole which made her loudly moan. Placing his hands on her hips, Jack started thrusting his cock in and out her pussy. The lewd sounds of skin meeting, moans and the wet, squelching sounds of his dick pumping against her hole of fat and human flesh filled each and every corner and crevice of the room.

"Fuck yeah, take my cock like the slut you are" Jack groaned as he continued jack-hammering his appendage into her fleshy cunt.

Resting her cheek against the plush mattress, Harley moaned in response, unable to form words with the pleasure that surged through her. The ecstasy was almost blinding, more moans slid off her puffy lips as his tip brushed her cervix. Jack slowed down slightly and pulled out a small, sharp blade then dragged it across her soft, pale skin. The dark, crimson fluid leaking out the wound, a stark contrast to her porcelain skin. Harley whined at the sensation, pain and pleasure that molded and mixed together which felt strangely euphoric.

He continued to glide the blade across her prior unbroken skin, Harley's blood painted her back like an artistic mosaic painted by the hands of God himself. Licking up the crimson that flowed out of the fresh wounds, Jack groaned at the delectable taste, his thrusts speeding up as he chased his release. Sounds of pleasure erupted from her, moving her hips back as he thrusted into her.

"Uh huh, just like that, back up onto my cock" Jack growled into her ear, sending tingles down Harley's spine.

A soft giggle came from Harley, which quickly changed into a moan as he wrapped his hand around her neck. Still plunging his dick into her arousal-dripping hole, Jack sucked, licked and nibbled at the supple, sensitive flesh. Speeding up his thrusts, more moans, groans and whimpers came from the pair as they both inched closer to their release. More thrusts that deliciously hit her g-spot, choking, praises and sounds of pleasure later, the pair got closer and closer to their sweet release.

"That's right, cum all over my cock baby, all over it" Jack moaned out, his tip kissing her cervix.

Harley's pussy spasmed, fluttered and twitched around his cock, her moans growing louder as he sped up even more. His cock mouthwateringly filled her up as tears of pleasure rolled down her hot, red cheeks.

"Mhm, milk my fucking cock" Jack moaned as his hands gripped her hips like a vice.

He thrust his hips forward a few more times before emptying his load deep inside her. Euphoria, ecstasy and pleasure flowed through their veins, engulfing them in pure dopamine. Both of them were breathless as they lay next to each other on the blood and bodily fluid soaked sheets, just basking in the presence of each other now that they were finally back together.

•••

Word count: 2.8k

Sup lil chickadees? We are back again with another kinktober fic, feeding you lil birdees with your well deserved S M U T. Hope y'all liked this one as much as our other chapters and the chapters to come.

Also, if you wanna tell us any ship suggestions you can always just comment and the ask box will always be open.

Welp, see ya soon and remember kids, don't mistake sugar with salt when you're making cupcakes.

- Jamal Gripperton and BeezyBee <3

#harley quinn #the joker #harley x joker #smut

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thera-daydreams · 3 years

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INDAY

± A Trese Fic ±

[Crispin/Basilio/Maliksi/Dominic x Skymaiden!Reader]

01: Noon at Ngayon (✓)

02: Ang Kambal na Anak ni Datu Talagbusao, Diyos ng Digmaan (Link)

03: Ang Prinsipe ng Mga Tikbalang (Link)

04: Ang Pinuno ng Mga Aswang (Link)

05: (Link) 06: (Link) 07: (Link)

01: Noon at Ngayon

Back then, long before you were born, your mother used to work as a katulong of the Trese Family and was very close to its matriarch, Miranda Trese. Coming from the province, she was no stranger to superstitions—even more so after knowing the work of Miranda's husband Anton Trese, who was actually the Babaylan-Mandirigma of Manila.

Years later, after giving birth to you around the same time Miranda gave birth to her twins (one a stillborn, unfortunately), it was you and Alexandra who became best buddies instead, as different your personalities were. You two had practically grown up together and you yourself heard countless stories of the supernatural from your Tito Anton. It wasn't that hard to believe when he and his sigbin companions would sometimes come home tracking blood prints on the floors (which you'd helped your mother clean up). Heck, you'd even met Señor Armanaz, the Great Stallion himself and the ruling tikbalang of the Armanaz herd. That pretty, white-haired diwata seemed extremely fond of you, too, which was evident when you'd sneak in with Alexandra to Tito Anton's meetings and she would smile (even wave) at you happily.

You had absolutely no idea why the fae-like lady was so nice to you, but you weren't complaining at all!

However, in spite of your experiences with the supernatural, you and your mother always believed that you were normal humans. In actuality, that was who you were for the majority of your childhood. It was only until Miranda herself saw a vision of you—a much older you—fighting the monsters of the Underworld alongside her own daughter. During dinnertime, Miranda told your mother that she saw you blessed by the heavens with powers that would aid in the battle against evil.

It sounded absolutely ridiculous, right? Yeah, your mom thought so, too.

Your mother only laughed it off as she placed a steaming bowl of tinola in front of Alexandra's brothers, who instantly dug in like they haven't been fed in years.

"Boys! Dahan-dahan lang," Anton reprimanded his sons. "Or else you'll choke and the soup will come out of your noses!"

"Okay, Papa."

"Grabe ka naman, Miranda. I doubt that anything like that's going to happen to my daughter," your mom chuckled, watching your little hands try to feed Alexandra with a piece of chicken. "Unlike you guys, our lineage isn't anything special. Ordinaryo lang ang lahi namin."

Miranda sighed, looking at you and her only living daughter enjoying your time being kids, "I guess you're right. Baka panaginip lang talaga 'yun."

Anton glanced at her knowingly. Although he was aware that you and your mom didn't dabble in magic or anything like they did, he knew that whenever Miranda—one of the Seven Seers—had such vivid dreams, it was something of great importance. But he decided to say nothing, understanding how much your mother wanted to let you live as normal of a life possible in this household.

That was when you were seven years old. One year later, Miranda died fighting against a group of aswang who decided to betray Anton. Said man found the eight-year-old Alexandra hiding in a corner behind the waterfalls, scared and holding Sinag close to her heaving chest as she tried to hold her tearful sobs in.

Of course, a few days later, you and your mother attended the funeral with the mourning Trese family. All the brothers had done their best to stay strong, especially for their little sister who didn't fully understand yet what just happened. Little you ran towards Alexandra, holding her hand tightly as her mother's casket was lowered. Around you were various comrades, both human and non-human, paying their respects to their bereaved allies.

That day, as you turned your back to return to your mother's arms, you knew you would never forget the feeling of numerous unearthly eyes following your every movement.

Even they could sense that there was something about you, a so-called regular human child. You smelled human and had the aura of one, but there was something they couldn't place. It was like a tiny rock getting into your shoe, not coming out at all.

Much changed after that, but you and Alexandra remained close together. To your dismay, just after you graduated elementary, you and your mother had to move back to the province to stay with your sick grandparents. The last thing you could remember was kneeling in the back of the car, looking sadly through the rear windscreen as Alexandra and her brothers waved goodbye to you.

More than a decade had passed since then. You used to write letters to Alexandra, but after Hank told you she had to undergo the trials of the Puno ng Balete, you haven't heard from her (although Hank did disclose that she'd managed to come home safely, which was a great relief to you). You didn't blame her; you knew Tito Anton had passed away in the five years she was gone and that she had to take over the title of Lakan, as well as the Babaylan-Mandirigma of Manila. It was a demanding job! You remembered Tito Anton sometimes staying up all night—breakfast would be served and he would still be in his study, going over paperwork. On other days, he would be gone for consecutive nights handling cases all around Manila. You could only pray Alexandra was fine.

Your life had continued on, as well—you took care of your ill grandparents until they died, helped your mother in the province, went to a good highschool, then earned your degree in another prominent city that wasn't Manila.

Your mom actually recommended that you go to school somewhere else, given the constantly rising number of attacks in the capital of the country. And so you did. Life was hard, but normal until then.

The funny thing was that, when you reached the age of twenty-one, you finally understood why those supernatural creatures kept looking at you weirdly as a kid (and why Lady Diwata liked you so much).

What was even funnier was that the dramatic revelation came to you when you weren't in the Philippines. It was after you freshly graduated college, when you were traveling all over Asia to volunteer in charity projects. It was always your dream to one day expand your horizons not only beyond your province, but the Philippines itself, while also doing good in the world.

And here you were, walking that path you dreamt of.

The organization you luckily managed to become a member of provided everything you needed, and every few months, you would move from country to country. Because of that, you'd already been able to travel to so many places. First it was Thailand, then Indonesia, China, South Korea, India, Japan, Sri Lanka, Singapore, Malaysia, and currently, you were in Vietnam. Visiting those places was fun and gave you a whole new perspective of the world you lived in; it was a... learning experience, too.

Still, that incident happened when you were in Thailand, when you were the last one in the rented apartment balcony taping up the boxes for the donation drive tomorrow. Yawning, you cut more duct tape and stuck them to the open boxes tightly.

"Inday," someone said from behind you. You didn't bother turning around, thinking it was one of your fellow volunteers looking for you this late at night. Probably your roommate. She was the only one who usually called you by your nickname instead of your real name.

"Hmm?" you hummed, taping up more boxes. "Papasok na ako sa kwarto, Lyn. I just have a few more boxes to close. Alam mong mapapagalitan ako kung may hindi madidistribute bukas."

"Hindi ako si Lyn."

You paused, then slowly turned around, flinching at the sudden bright light that shone right against your eyes. For a moment, akala mo namatay ka na at hinaharap mo si San Pedro.

It was a glowing figure in white whose face you couldn't clearly see, which frightened you even more.

"Ay, mama!" you exclaimed, shielding your eyes and falling to your knees. Then, you gasped loudly, patting your body and panicking with closed lids. "Oh my God, am I dead? Nasa heaven na po ba ako?" Your lips wobbled. "Ngayon pa nga lang ako nakaalis ng Pilipinas... I haven't even done all the things I've wanted to do! Hindi pa ako nakapagpaalam sa nanay ko—aray!"

You'd felt something hit the back of your head. Hard. It was the glowing figure in white, but now you could see their unimpressed face scowling at you.

"Kalma lang, Inday. Hindi ka pa patay, pero makinig ka nang mabuti," they shushed you urgently (you weren't sure if they were male or female). "Do not be afraid. I am a messenger from the heavens, and I bear great news!"

"Great news...?" you trailed off, then your eyes widened excitedly. "Like, nanalo ba ako ng lotto? Isang milyon? Bilyon? Hala! Wait, is this a Mama Mary moment? I'm not ready to be the next immaculate conception!"

They glared at you, making you shut up instantly. "Sorry, I'll shut up now," you apologized with a mumble. This person (thing?) was kind of... strict. Whatever did you do wrong? You were just sleep-deprived and running on energy drinks (as well as kape).

"I have come to tell you that you are the vessel of the last skymaiden," they revealed, arms wide open. The light around them seemed to grow even brighter, making you squint. You felt like you were about the go blind! "Ikaw ang huling biraddali, Y/N L/N."

At ayun, zero brain cells remaining. Tunay na nagloading screen ang brain mo. Nag-error at nagcrash pa nga siguro, eh.

"... Ha? Ano?"

You blinked, completely speechless—as seen by how wide your jaw had dropped open. It wasn't that you were unfamiliar with the biraddali, it was just that you'd only heard of them once when you were just a young child. Your Tita Miranda had mentioned they were long gone from the world of the supernatural.

"Oh no, me? A biraddali? You're joking," you stuttered out, pointing at yourself. "Aren't they extinct or something? And, uh... not human?"

They nodded, "Yes. It is correct that everyone in the mystical world thought that the biraddali were long gone, even before the colonizers came to conquer the native lands. However, before the skymaidens all disappeared, the youngest and most powerful one among the seven sisters sealed her soul away to the rivers of time until the strength of a heavenly being was needed to help purify the evils of the world." The figure floated closer to you. "That last biraddali's soul, along with its corresponding power, traits, and knowledge, had chosen to reside deep within you the moment you were conceived."

Honestly, how were you even supposed to react? Your life was nowhere near ready for something like this. Was this a prank by your friends? Your colleagues? The light around this person seemed too authentic to be fake, though.

You stayed in shock for an entire minute, silent. The being in front of you only waited for a response.

"Ano 'to, Sailor Moon? Winx Club?" you whispered to yourself, before slapping your own cheek and scolding yourself. A stinging red mark was left on your face. "Inday, kakamanhwa mo 'yan! Nasosobraan ka na ata, matulog ka na!"

Sighing heavily, you rubbed your face tiredly, still in disbelief that you—according to this stranger—were apparently some old soul from a species of ethereal beings that were long gone. It sounded like something out of those reincarnation webnovels you got addicted to. What now, you were the MC? Wattpad ka, girl?

"Look, this is a mistake. I still have to wake up early tomorrow to give out the donations," you spoke to the glowing being (or whatever it was), laughing nervously. "I'm sorry, but I think you have the wrong person. Either that or I must be hallucinating from sleep deprivation, because I'm definitely not a divine creature. You're probably just a product of my imagination. Sorry, I'm going to bed."

Bang!

At that moment, the power in the building went out. The only thing you could see was the thing who assumed you were a biraddali (they were so bright they were like a flashlight in the dark for you).

"Brownout?" you blinked. It felt wrong, though. It was eerily silent. "Did a fuse blow up?"

"Nagsimula na ang iyong unang pagsubok, Y/N," they announced seriously. "Creatures of the dark have already begun to take over this building. You may not have noticed, but all throughout your life, you have always been helping and giving. It is your nature as a being descended from the heavens themselves, and now, it is time for you to accept your destiny."

"Hoy, sandali lang! Sandali, sandali!" You were absolutely wide awake now as you heard the sounds of strange whispers around you. It was terrifyingly creepy, much creepier than whatever you'd seen back in the Trese Residence (and you'd seen a lot in that house). You did not want to be a part of a horror movie-like lifestyle. "Don't I have a choice in this?! I—I don't have any training or fighting skills! Hindi ako Alexandra Trese o Babaylan-Mandirigma! I'm not ready for this, holy sh—"

The candescent creature raised a brow at you, "Inday, I just told you that you have the power of a lost mystical being. And tell me, if you had the power to save your companions in this building from the forces of evil, would you save them?"

You were silent, knowing the answer.

"Well?" they prodded.

You bit your lip, "Oo naman. I'm not heartless!" But you were a little impulsive. And apparently, insane.

"That's what I thought. I just need you to believe in yourself," the being encouraged, gentler this time. It transformed into something smaller and rounder—like a ball of light. "Ikaw ang huling biraddali, Y/N, at marami kang kapangyarihan. Isa dito ay ang pagtulong sa mga nangangailangan, lalo na laban sa masasamang nilalang."

Bestie, what had you just gotten into?

You swallowed apprehensively, then nodded in determination, "Sige. So, how do I save the people in the building? Biraddali were said to be able to shapeshift, right? If I remember the tale correctly. Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening to me right now."

"That's just one of your abilities, but I'll teach you. I'm actually your guide," they replied confidently. "With me, you'll be able to master your powers and exceed your capabilities in no time!"

"Wait! Anong pangalan mo?" you asked breathlessly, following them as they speedily flew out of the room. "Grabe, slow down! I'm not athletic! I haven't even exercised this week, goodness."

"... Gabay. Ako si Gabay."

Despite the adrenaline and fear running in your veins, you still grinned up at the ball of light, "Okay. Nice to meet you, Gabay."

This was just the beginning of your supernatural combat training abroad. When you returned to the Philippines three years later, you were stronger, faster, and more powerful than you'd ever felt before. It was crazy.

Oh, that guy who tried to rob you when you came back to Manila was crazy, too. The two identical-looking men in dark suits and white ties—you wondered how they were surviving the heat in that attire—could only watch in awe as you chased down that man who stole your bag while doing acrobatics and parkour.

"Uy, Kuya Crispin, sino kaya 'yun?"

"Ewan ko, Basilio."

"... She's kind of pretty. Type ko. Type mo rin ata."

"The more important question is, paano niya na nahuli ang magnanakaw?"

"Oo nga, no? One in a million chance 'yan dito sa Maynila, haha! Ang astig ni ate!"

(Next Chapter.)

± Author's Notes ±

Ayieee, type daw tayo ng kambal! 😌

How the hell did I write this entirely random thing in one day? 2k+ words? Ano daw? 😃⁉️

You know, this was supposed to just be a Trese one-shot or a bunch of drabbles for the characters I'm currently simping for... but it turned into a full-blown, shameless self-insert slash crackfic. Kakacellphone ko 'yan. 🤦‍♀️

Nagresearch pa ako ng articles about Filipino skymaidens because I wanted something similiar to the Japanese celestial maidens (tennyo). Very random idea but why not? Gusto ko ng badass Y/N na hindi takot lumaban sa mga mumu! 👻

Also, pagbigyan niyo nalang ang matandang 'to kasi ilang taon na akong hindi nagpopost ng mga writings ko. May track record pa naman ako bilang author na hindi nagtatapos ng mga fanfic, hehe. I also haven't read the comics so please forgive me for any inaccuracies and of course, misspellings/errors. Gusto ko lang matapos 'to para makakabalik na ako sa Jujutsu Kaisen. 🥲😗

Anyways, comments and constructive criticism are welcome! Hit those heart, reblog, and follow buttons for updates! Just comment if you want to be tagged in the next chapters. ❤

#trese #trese netflix #trese 2021 #crispin #basilio #maliksi #dominic #x reader #kambal x reader #crispin x reader #basilio x reader #maliksi x reader #dominic x reader #trese x reader #thera.writes

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nanaminokanojo · 3 years

Text

"Petty" | Oikawa Toru X You

collection masterlist

photo/fanart credits to @/oikawalovesyouu on Twitter

"He's self-centered but he's insecure so naturally, he's petty."

Oikawa couldn't shake that comment off his head as he slammed yet another ball into the opposing court, aggressively wiping on the sweat on his forehead. The university gym was already deserted with all his teammates gone yet he was still doing jump serves as if he wasn't already so good at it. He just needed an outlet.

In his head, he was already thinking of counter arguments to what he heard being said about him. It was one sentence. One! And yet he was working up all his brain cells to think of a lengthy rebuttal to every single word in that single statement.

First of all, he wasn't self-centered. He doesn't just think about himself, or so he likes to think. He was sensitive enough to read the room most of the time and he can actually bring the best out of his teammates to the highest degree. An insensitive, selfish prick wouldn't be able to do that without proper observation and lack of awareness for others.

Secondly, he didn't think he was insecure. He didn't have to lift a finger to get the attention he wanted, and it was human to feel envy for those who are better than him because there will always be someone better. It’s just an inevitability he has to deal with.

And lastly, he wasn't petty. He's always been reactive, he knew that, but that was just reaction if not retaliation to those who want to belittle him. That's what he thinks anyway.

But why you had to say those things about him as if you were a female version of Iwaizumi – his best friend who seemed to get off of being too cruelly honest and straightforward about what he thought of Oikawa – was something he didn't understand.

Of course, he was aware of your blatant frankness. He loved that about you. You were just very insistent on your individuality and you had very strong opinions which you stood by without regard to anything. Most of the time anyway. He actually got a kick out of people's reactions when you say something without filtering your words especially when you were children, but like they say, it's never funny when one becomes the receiving end of anything negative.

The larger dilemma was that you were the only girl he sincerely liked, so much so that he was willing to lay down his pride just to have you and call you his. Solely and irrevocably his. But if you thought of him that way, then maybe you actually hated him. It bothered him to no end.

"What the hell did I tell you about over-exertion?" Oikawa heard that familiar deep voice from the direction of the entrance, and before he knew it, the ball crate was being wheeled away from him. "Enough. It's off season."

"Just letting off some steam," Oikawa stated, smiling Iwaizumi's way despite himself.

"You can do that at Kuroo's party," the other male said with finality. "Be out in fifteen." His last words were laced with a threat, and Oikawa didn't have a choice but to do as he was told. The former was right. If it's just to vent out, he could definitely do that at the party.

He couldn't be more wrong in his life.

The moment he entered the premises of Kuroo's house, the first thing he saw was you. You came in just after he did, but you bumped against him without even apologizing as you walked ahead, waving at someone else. You saw him there, but you walked off anyway as if you didn't.

"What the actual fuck?" he couldn't help but blurt out when he saw just who you were talking to.

You've always been agreeable to him as his childhood friend, but you were ignoring him on top of saying bad things about him to your friends. And now, you were talking to Ushijima Wakatoshi whom you knew he disliked with a passion.

The male simply got on his nerves for the fact that he was better at him in the sport they both played. Oikawa also hated how much the guy hounded him to join their team back in high school, talking about how he would be better off. Like how is it better to be in the same team as Ushijima was when he would just outshine him?

His mind started to run amok with questions. What could you possibly want from Ushijima? Better yet, what did he want from you? Since when were you even close to him? Oikawa almost wanted to throw up seeing how you were being buddy-buddy with the cold fish of a guy, actually managing to melt his severe expressions into a soft smile. Were you going out with him now? He couldn't take it.

Without thinking, he grabbed the shoulder of the person who was holding a tray of drinks, taking two shot glasses in his hand, and telling the person to stay where he was standing. He was able to down six shots while standing there, but before he could drink more, Iwaizumi came into view.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded gruffly, telling the poor guy with the drinks to scram.

"Not now, Iwa," he snapped, walking towards the direction of the stairs, rudely telling everyone to get out of his way.

He stayed there for almost an hour, trying to calm his nerves but ending up going feral over this couple who were making out as they pushed the door to Kuroo's room where he was lying down on the bed. To say that he killed their mood was an understatement as he harshly told them to fuck off. Nobody dared cross him being the famous star athlete that he was at the university you both attended. It was, however, useless if he finds himself losing even outside of court to Ushijima who was his equivalent in the neighboring school when it comes to volleyball. It left him with a bitter taste at the recesses of his mouth.

When he finally emerged from the room, deciding to get more drinks, he was still in a foul mood, glaring at anyone who would get in his way towards the kitchen. But his plan was all but forgotten when he saw you standing by the archway that led to the kitchen, leaning there as you nursed a plastic cup against your chest.

For the first time that night, he was actually seeing how beautiful you were, dressed in a crop top and tight-fitting jeans which were tattered in most places. As per usual, you were stuck in your own bubble, bobbing your head to the music as if you weren't aware of all the adoring looks you were getting. Well, you were a person who didn't know her strengths and denied them when he tells you. It was just unfair how he always has nice things to say about you but you didn't think the same way about him.

He closed the distance between the two of you, placed his forearm above your head, towering over you, that infamous smirk plastered on his face.

"Hey, baby," he said in a low tone, leaning down until your faces were just inches from one another.

"Hello, darling," you returned, smiling slightly. "I've been looking for you, but Iwa said you ran off somewhere."

"Have you now?" He eyed you seriously. "Weren't you just ignoring me a while ago for Ushijima?"

He wasn't able to elicit the reaction he wanted from you, and instead, you smirked at him. "Eh?" you responded in a dragged out note. "I wasn't with Ushijima for the sake of ignoring you, Toru. The world doesn't revolve around you."

He stood back in indignation, your opinions of him coming out to the surface. "So why were you with him?" He was aware that his tone made it seem like he had any right to be questioning you of your actions. He had been vocal about his attraction to you, but it wasn't as if he was your boyfriend. Still, he couldn't care less at the moment.

"None of your business, sweetheart," you told him, your words at odds to the saccharine smile you flashed him. He found himself disconcerted especially when you reached up and started fixing his fringe. "What are you acting so jealous for?"

Ah, he thought. It wasn't his place to be feeling that way but he didn't want to respond to your question in any way. So, like he did earlier, he stormed off, sticking to his original plan to get wasted.

He didn't want to say things he will regret even if you were being hot and cold. For a while now, he had the feeling that you were toying with him, but whenever he was around, your actions towards him were always the opposite of your words about him as of late. One time you'd be telling him to go away, but as soon as he does, you're grabbing his arm, telling him to sit still beside you. You'd be complaining to him one second that he was being an annoying brat and then sit on his lap peppering his cheeks with kisses. You'd be with another guy but tell him you're looking for him. You were confusing to say the least.

Oikawa didn't know what happened after he walked away from you. But when he finally came to, he had a throbbing headache and he wasn't in his room. He looked around him, straining to keep his eyes open as he took in his surroundings, shooting up from the bed when he realized he was looking at the familiar layout of your bedroom.

He had been there a million times ever since you were kids, and he had been a witness to all the changes your little corner of the world had gone through. He couldn't help but smile despite his feelings and headache at the thought that what was once a room that looked like it was made of cotton candy was now in scales of black and white, surrounded with things that were just so you.

But after all the changes, you still had that framed photo of you and him in grade school, where he was kissing you on the cheek while you grinned wide for the camera. You were wearing the matching shirts your crazy moms got you, and he knew you still kept them somewhere in your room.

Yes, he told himself, I was there before anyone else. You’ve always been the closest to him even when Iwaizumi came into the picture. Even then, he didn’t seem to understand you well enough to actually lay emphasis on the fact that you’ve known each other since you were in diapers.

Just then, you walked into the room, holding a glass of fizzy water. You were wearing only his old volleyball jersey, padding barefoot on the floor. You specifically asked for it when you both graduated from high school and you've been sleeping in it since then.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," you greeted, sitting down on the empty space of the queen bed which he noticed was also slept on. "Drink up."

"What am I doing here?" he asked after downing the whole glass in one go, setting it on the nightstand.

"I took you home. Your mom would have killed you if she saw how fucked up you were last night." You brushed his hair from over his eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Like my head's about to explode," he muttered.

You clucked your tongue. "Why did you have to drink so much anyway?"

Instead of answering you, he laid back down on the bed, turning away from you. He had every intention to ignore you after that, but it wasn't long before he felt you coming closer to him, propping your chin on his arm while you draped yours over his waist.

"You're sulking, Toru."

He took the pillow from under his head to hide his head under it. "I don't wanna do this today, Y/N."

"Do what? What exactly are we doing?"

The audacity to ask, he said at the back of his mind, biting his tongue. He didn't say anything and just stayed still.

"Hey, I asked you a question," you continued to badger him. "You've been acting off since a week ago. What's up?"

He refused to satisfy you with a response thinking you ought to realize what it was exactly that you two had been doing, dancing around each other yet skirting around the real issues between you. You couldn't be that oblivious of his affections and you weren't exactly passive either.

Nevertheless, you always had a way of turning things to your favor, and before he knew it, he was falling off the bed after you kicked him off it, nearly landing face down if it weren't for his fast reflexes.

"Y/N!" he whined, remaining seated on the floor as he clutched on his head. He half expected you to laugh at his predicament, but when he met your eyes, he regretted it, seeing the serious expression you had.

"You should know by now that I hate it when I am denied things I want to know especially those which involve me," you told him, cocking your head to the direction of the bed. You sounded menacing, so far from the gentle voice you always used when talking to him. "Stop being a brat. Get back here and talk to me properly."

"You're the one who kicked me!" he protested as he stood up, doing as he was told nonetheless, sitting up and leaning on the headboard.

"So, what's your problem?"

"I'm jealous of Ushijima," he returned promptly his brown eyes also taking a severe quality to it as he eyed you.

You arched a brow at him. "What's new about that?"

"At least before, he didn't have you, too. Now..." He sighed. "You're friends with him now? What was that about last night?"

"Are you serious right now? I had business with the guy."

Oikawa scoffed. "What business are you talking about that he's all smiles at you like that? He only ever smiles around his girlfriend –"

"Exactly," you countered, openly savoring the look on his face when he realized just what he was saying. "He ordered a huge consignment of rare live flowers for his girlfriend so I informed him it had been delivered. Our family as ikebana* artists and horticulturist do that for a living."

"What?"

You shrugged. "You're assuming things again."

Oikawa blinked, feeling defeated at your sound reasoning, but he still has bones to pick with you. "That's not just my problem with you. What are we really, Y/N? I don't get how you're ignoring me and suddenly being sweet. I'm getting mixed signals here. And don't think for a second that I didn't hear about what you told your friends about me."

He narrowed his eyes at you, smirking when he saw how your eyes rounded, finally able to take you off guard like you usually did to him. For once, he wanted you to lose your footing and come clean about what you really thought about him…how you really felt.

"Hmm. What exactly did I say about you?" you asked, the caution in your tone obvious.

"You know it, Y/N. Don't you dare make me jump all the hoops!" he stated, losing his temper.

You shook your head, not understanding where his choleric attitude was coming from. You knew better than to level your irritation with his, and you were so used to his antics that you found yourself almost unaffected by his crusty demeanor. "I really don't know what you're talking about, Toru."

He glared at you. "You told them you think I'm petty because I'm self-centered but I'm insecure. Ring any bells, sweetheart? And don't lie, I heard it myself."

You ran your hand over your face, frustration emanating from you. At the same time, you wanted to laugh because he looked like an angry kitten instead of the fully grown man he supposedly is.

Oikawa didn't know where your exasperation was coming from when he's supposedly the one feeling it but then you nodded.

"I did say that."

"How could you?" he complained, aware that he sounded like a juvenile dipshit but he didn't know how to react to your lack of denial for it. In the end, he just wanted you to say you didn't mean it even if he already got hurt from hearing it.

"How couldn't I, Toru? That's the truth," you stated, no bars held and your voice ringing clear in the air between you. You were really merciless when it came to voicing out what ran inside your head.

"Well, shit, Y/N. Why didn't you just tell me to my face?" He was about to stand up, but you pushed him down, sitting astride his lap so he wouldn't move. He refused to look at you but couldn’t move at the same time cause he didn’t want to hurt you in any way although he didn’t exactly want you close at the moment. "Get off while I'm being nice about it."

"Iwa and I never fail to tell you every day," you started, placing your hands on either side of his face, gently making him look at you.

"You both hate me?" he asked weakly, unable to imagine life without the two of you beside him.

"No." You shook your head. "Toru, no. Of course not. That's just how you are, isn't it? We never asked you to change. We just couldn't help noticing it, and if we don't tell you, who will?"

Oikawa Toru. So used to being fawned over that he doesn't know how to react when he is being criticized. He could admit to that, but it still hurt hearing you say that.

"Sweetheart, I did say those things about you, but you didn't stay long enough to hear the rest."

He pouted, looking away from you. "And what is it?"

You tilted your head so you would be in his line of vision, grinning the moment you realized you had him. "That despite all that, you're a generally kind person who cares a lot for your friends, your team, for me, and even if you don't know how to show it, deep down, you're a sensitive soul. And I adore that about you."

"Really?"

You scoffed. "I love you, Toru. I thought we had an understanding."

"As friends, you mean?"

You rolled your eyes at him, but didn't say anything further, closing the distance between your lips, kissing him fervently and intensely in case the message didn't come across just yet.

He gasped against your lips, caught off guard as usual, but kissed you back with as much fervor, dominating you shortly after your mouths made contact. He nipped and sucked on your lips before shoving his tongue into your mouth, immediately finding yours and delving in to taste you. Oikawa grinned when he rendered you into a panting mess, reveling in the way your hands possessively held him close.

"I waited so long for this," he said against your ear.

"Make up for all those times you missed out then," you told him with a smug grin.

"Heh. You asked for it."

He flipped you both over on the bed making you burst out in a fit of giggles, kissing you stupid, his hands touching everywhere he could reach, your clothes and his mixing in a pile on the floor while he made sweet love to you.

Oikawa Toru. He's self-centered but he's insecure so naturally, he's petty. But he was not just that. He's also the guy you loved to smithereens because you knew that those other facets of him – the good ones – exist.

-the end-

TERMINOLOGIES:

*ikebana (活け花) - traditional Japanese art of arranging flowers

My first try at Haikyuu...god d*mn you, both, @kenkinori and @ushiwaikuroo !!! XD

Before anyone comes after me, the characters are aged up as specified in the story. The beauty of literary creativity!

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

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bokutoslittlebird · 3 years

Text

Indebted

Day 8 of Matsuhana week: Yakuza

Summary: Left with his father’s debts, Hanamaki decides to not pay back the dangerous Yakuza boss until he’s on his knees before the man himself.

Warnings: mafia/yakuza business, threatening letters (not into much detail), minor character death (by cancer), tranquilizer gun, kidnapping, age gap, fingering, Virgin!Hanamaki, bit of corruption kink, lube, no condom, creampie

“Why does he have so much junk?” He groans, looking through another box. “Who’d have known the old man had so much stuff to hide?”

Hanamaki was digging through his ill father’s belongings. His mother was currently at the hospital while the nurses caught her up on the situation, but it wasn’t looking good. The cancer had spread to his brain, signaling his end was near. His mother, however, decided to dig into their limited money supply to see if it could be fixed, leaving them with same amount of money before his father got that new job about 10 years ago. So, Hanamaki thought he could sell some items to get extra cash.

Oh, he wasn’t planning on sharing it.

His mother had taken plenty of money he could have used for college, as well as moving out. Even now, she refused to see that her husband was a lost cause and keep the money to use on her son, but no. She’ll get all the life insurance money, as well, so it’s not like she’s in desperate need of cash. Hanamaki, on the other hand, could barely eat and make ends meet when he worked at a nearby pizza restaurant. The answer, and his reasonings, were clear.

Digging through a box he found under the bed, Hanamaki’s face changes drastically as he opens the box to find money. Wads of paper bills that could set him up for the next year, honestly. However, as he takes the money, he finds a note underneath it. Curious as ever, he decides to read it.

“50,000 yen for the Boss” is all it reads, making him tilt his head. However, more digging through the box makes him realize his dad was not just hoarding money, but rather keeping the money and giving it to this.. Boss guy. A part of Hanamaki told him it was bad news, but the other part of him needed money.

Pocketing the cash and grabbing any antiques, he left the room and never looked back.

Three days later, a proper ceremony was in place for Hanamaki’s father, who finally succumbed to the cancer eating him and left behind a widow and a son. Hanamaki’s mother was incessant on a proper burial, despite the money necessary for it. Condolence money would be given, but that money was hardly enough for someone to have a proper ceremony. Hanamaki may have spent most of his time picking bones and putting them in the urn, but he wasn’t going with his mother and uncle to the family grave, instead going back to his car.

A cheap, old car that needed a lot of money to be back into good working order, but Hanamaki liked how reliable it was. It may creak and sigh and he can’t go too fast, but he’s always to work on time and never wastes money sprucing it up. Getting to the car, however, Hanamaki saw something under his wiper. A note, most likely.

“Who-“ he sputtered, looking around the empty parking lot. He wasn’t parked illegally, nor was he in a special spot, so he wonders who left it. Reading it made him wish he didn’t.

“To the young Hanamaki Takahiro, in the wake of your father’s passing, you are to take on full responsibility and pay back his accumulated debt. Sincerely, Seijoh Family.”

Hanamaki was no idiot. He may have been able to forget about the notes and letters and the money, but he couldn’t as his eyes ran over the inked words. The Seijoh Family was a yakuza family that was well known for helping those down on their luck, as long as you could pay them back when your luck turned around. It suddenly made sense.

The lack of money and his always empty stomach, the fighting between his parents, all of it suddenly changed within a couple of days with a new promotion. Hanamaki went from eating small quantities to large ones, his house went from a small one to a nice and big one. Everything got better, but then everything got worse. It was more of a middle ground, honestly, but he could feel it slipping. His father had gotten everything he wanted and then suddenly, he needed to pay back the money he was loaned. And now, with his cremated remains in an urn, Hanamaki would be taking up his father’s debts.

Although the message scares Hanamaki, he can’t afford to let it control him. He has to go back to work and prepare for college classes soon. He can’t be worried about some creepy guy planning to kill him because he’s struggling. Even as he tells himself that, the next couple of days has him putting tips into a jar in his kitchen, sliding it under the sink and out of his sight. The money he took from his father was 10x what he makes in a week, making him worried that he’ll never be able to pay back the sum of debt.

With the dread of something bad about to happen, Hanamaki decides to push the thought away, hoping a gooey cheeseburger and soda can take the feeling away. With his dinner, a movie will be enough to take his mind off of everything. As soon as he sits down, though, he gets a wiggling doorknob. Hoping it’s someone trying to get into the wrong apartment, he waits for it to stop. When it does, he relaxes once more, only to then fly out of his seat when two people walk through the door.

They’re big, despite Hanamaki having some muscle on him. Big and dressed in dark clothing, wearing protective layers on their face so he can’t get a proper look at them. He’s quick enough to try to get away, hopping over the couch to reach the balcony when one of the guys shoots him with something. Face planting on the floor in front of the window, the last thing Hanamaki sees is the guy pull out a cell phone.

When Hanamaki comes to, the first thing he notices is the hushed whispers and he’s draped over something — or someone. His arms feel like jelly, but his eyes slowly open to reveal a corridor, dimly lit as the same two guys, he thinks, walking behind him. He’s momentarily startled awake by them, but he realizes he soon has other worries when he notices he’s entered a big room, the door shutting loudly behind him.

“Is this the one?”

“Yes sir,” one of them answers. Hanamaki is then placed down on his knees in front of the other person in the room. A glance is all Hanamaki is blessed with before his head is shoved down, almost into the floor by the guy behind him. “Head down,” he sternly says.

“Now, now. We mustn’t hurt him too badly. How else will I get my money back?” The man says, the chair underneath him creaking as he leans forward. With his head no longer forced down, Hanamaki takes another chance to look up at the man before him. Clad in black slacks and sleek shoes, Hanamaki has an easy time figuring out just who’s in front of him. The ironed white shirt had a few buttons loose, sleeves rolled to his elbows, showing enough muscles to know force was a valid option. The man himself had a smirk that made it seem as though he was playing a game with Hanamaki, further proved when his hand grabbed Hanamaki’s chin and let him get a better look. “You’re quite young, aren’t you? College age, perhaps?”

“How did-“ Hanamaki sputters, only to stop when his smirk drops. “Sir?”

“Matsukawa Issei. I’m sure you’re aware of your father’s debts, which are now your responsibility. However, I can’t see how I’d benefit from someone struggling to make ends meet. I may be cruel, but I’m also fair. If you can’t work and live comfortably, I can’t get all my money back. Do you see my dilemma?”

“You could, I don’t know, let me go?” Hanamaki suggests, raising an eyebrow. He mentally takes a point when Matsukawa’s lips tilt into a smile.

“You’re funny, but I can’t do that,” he sighs, smile dropping. His eyes then turn to the goons in the room. “Get out. I’ll discuss things in private,” he orders, each subordinate leaving. Once gone, he sighs once more as he moves over to his desk, pressing a button as shades cover the windows and the room is pitched into darkness. When the desk lamp and floor lamp near the couch turn on, Hanamaki finally gets a better look at the room.

Despite being shoved to his knees before Matsukawa as if he was placed on a throne, the room looks similar to a study. With Matsukawa leaning against a dark mahogany desk, large and almost empty aside from an old looking phone and a control board, the only thing left in the room are pictures on the wall and the spacious couch. The pillows looked so comfortable and much more expensive than the cheap couch he owns. Once Hanamaki had finished looking around, he straightened his back a bit more and looked at Matsukawa, wondering just what was going to happen.

“What’s next, then? You can’t kill me because then you don’t get money, but you also can’t just let me go because I can’t pay you back like my old man did, so we’re in limbo,” he breaks the silence first, eyes scanning Matsukawa for any instance of movement.

“You’ll still be paying me back, of course. I can’t lend you any money because of your father’s debts, sadly. Although, I’m sure you’d not want to be in his same shoes. You know what, I like you, so I’ll give you some options,” he begins walking closer to Hanamaki, making adrenaline kick in. He may not seem threatening, but he has an entire building full of people at his fingertips. As he circles Hanamaki, he continues talking. “Option one, you pay me back at your leisure. I’ll even help you a bit, of course making you pay back more, but you’re not on a time limit like everyone else. Option two, I take the money I can from you and your mother, who currently sits on your father’s life insurance money, and leave you with just enough to scrape by. Option three,” he stops, kneeling in front of a currently exhausted Hanamaki, taking his chin between his fingers until they’re eye to eye, “you let me blow off some steam and your debt will be down 10 times it’s original amount. So you don’t have to do the math, that means instead of roughly 50 million yen, you’ll be paying only 5 million. It’s quite a lot, I’ll admit, but it’s much better than what you have to pay.”

“What’s.. what does blowing off steam count as, exactly? Letting you hit me every time you get angry or something?”

“No, as in you let me use your body as I see fit. I could hit you, but I have other ideas in mind,” he says, smiling as Hanamaki’s face darkens when the gears start moving. “You can decline, of course, but that’s a lot of money. Not to mention, you’re still gonna have to pay rent and buy groceries, you may die before paying off the debt. Like I said—“

“I’ll do it,” Hanamaki interjects, relaxing his shoulders but still sitting up straight. “Despite the cliché of me paying with my body, it’s really not the worst thing in the world. I’d prefer it over you hitting me, as well,”

“The deal has been made and that means from this moment on, you and your body will belong to me,” Matsukawa says, then moves behind Hanamaki. “I’ve the perfect spot for you to lie, as well,” he practically purrs in Hanamaki’s ear, nudging him up and forward. To the desk.

“Kinda expected the couch, but it’s better than the floor,” Hanamaki chuckles, only to then gasp as cool metal slides against his skin. It’s a knife, he’s sure of it, but as soon as it’s there, it’s gone again and his bound wrists are free. Completely focused on his surroundings, Hanamaki forgot about his bound wrists until suddenly they were no longer forced behind his back. Once free, Matsukawa spins him around traps him against the desk, his hand once more cupping his chin.

“You’re a cute one. Ever kissed someone?”

“When I was 10. Some girl was dared to kiss me, but not recently,” Hanamaki breathlessly whispers, eyes drawn to Matsukawa’s lips when they’re so close. Feeling his breath ghost over his lips has him wishing for things to move a bit faster, but Matsukawa won’t give him that satisfaction.

“Some dare to kiss you hardly counts. I meant a real one,” he says in response, but doesn’t encourage a reply when his lips press against Hanamaki’s, tilting his head as his hand moves to the back of Hanamaki’s head while his other hand slips beneath the cardigan and oversized t-shirt, feeling warm skin. With his lips melding against Hanamaki’s, he finds his fingers running through pink strands as the other slips into jeans and further down, making Hanamaki tense. A swipe over the bottom lip with his tongue and Matsukawa pulls away, licking away the small strand of saliva keeping them tethered. “Like that?”

Although Matsukawa was referring to his previous sentence, Hanamaki shakily sighed as he nodded, “I did,” making Matsukawa chuckle a bit. Removing his hand from Hanamaki’s hair and jeans, Matsukawa places him on the desk. “Pretty empty for a big desk. You usually take people’s virginities on desks?” Hanamaki jokes, hoping to lighten the heavy mood, obviously unfamiliar with such serious situations.

“Virginities?” Matsukawa asks, his hands stopping at Hanamaki’s thighs before squeezing as he smiles. “I’ve never gotten the opportunity to take someone’s virginity, actually. Only taken those who thought sleeping with me would save their skin. It didn’t, but that was because it was always their idea. You, on the other hand,” he says, hands once more moving to slide under Hanamaki’s t-shirt, “are in a one of a kind situation. I’ll make sure to treat you kindly.”

“Um, small request, if I may,” Hanamaki says, hands moving from Matsukawa’s shoulders to his hands, stopping them from sliding off his clothes. “Can I keep on my shirt? I don’t feel quite comfortable being so.. vulnerable. I understand if—“

“Granted,” Matsukawa cuts him off, hands still sliding against his skin but not aiming to strip him of his clothes. After all, the main focus isn’t making Hanamaki uncomfortable but rather to send him through throes of pleasure. Hands move down, curling around the hem of his jeans as Matsukawa presses his lips to Hanamaki’s jaw and neck, making the younger man sigh in bliss. When his pants are taken off, Hanamaki flushes as Matsukawa’s fingers then gently pry off his boxers. The simple act of sliding them down his legs is made more sensual as Matsukawa kisses down his body, only to stop at his hard cock. “Excited, are we?”

“Well, you’re very good at this,” he quips back, turning his head. Instead of huffing and puffing, Hanamaki soon finds himself biting his finger when Matsukawa’s tongue slides against his cock. “I didn’t think—“

“I’m quite familiar when it comes to pleasure. Sit back and relax,” Matsukawa says, wrapping his lips around Hanamaki’s cock before putting it all in his mouth. The ease of which he takes all of Hanamaki doesn’t go unnoticed, but he’s not bothered by it as much while his hands massage the meat on Hanamaki’s thighs. Hanamaki is more bothered by it, seeing as he lets out soft moans while his teeth bite on one hand and his other curls into Matsukawa’s hair. Whines come from him as his back arches, feeling Matsukawa’s tongue lap at the side of his cock, only to then take him all back into his mouth.

While Hanamaki is busy moaning and trying to not finish so quickly, Matsukawa digs into his drawer and takes out a large bottle of lube. Its top is easy to remove without needing to see, Matsukawa slipping a couple of fingers into the cool liquid before rubbing those fingers against Hanamaki’s puckered hole. The cool sensation has Hanamaki gasping, hand moving from his mouth to grasp at the edge of the desk while his other tightens it’s hold on Matsukawa’s hair. With some more lube applied, Matsukawa slides in one of his fingers while his tongue swirls around Hanamaki’s tip. The sensations all together has Hanamaki seeing stars, a sweet mewl as he finally finishes, right into Matsukawa’s mouth.

Through his pants, Hanamaki manages to give a small apology to Matsukawa, who wipes some excess cum off his lips before licking it, locking eyes with Hanamaki as he does. He also doesn’t stop fingering Hanamaki, moving his finger in and out of him while he continues to whine from the sensations. Taking his finger out, Matsukawa applies some more lube to his fingers and pushes in two at the same time, soon adding three while Hanamaki gasps and moans, hands latching onto Matsukawa’s covered shoulders.

Once Matsukawa has deemed him ready enough, Hanamaki feels his fingers leaving while he craves more. Wiping off his fingers with a nearby handkerchief, Matsukawa then finally unbuttons his shirt and tosses it to the side, letting Hanamaki see all the muscles underneath. Despite not seeming very strong, Matsukawa had plenty of defined muscles that flexed as he stripped himself of his shirt, as well as moving to unbuckle his belt and unzip himself. Hanamaki couldn’t wait to feel those muscles under his own fingertips.

Once free of his boxers, Matsukawa applies a generous amount of lube to his cock while Hanamaki practically trembles with excitement. The sheer size of Matsukawa makes him wonder if it’ll actually fit, seeing as three fingers can’t compare to the size, but he’s always been up for a challenge. As Matsukawa lines himself up, he takes Hanamaki’s chin in his fingers one last time. “I want you to look at me while I corrupt you. Can you do that for me, Hiro?”

With such an affectionate name, Hanamaki is blushing while nodding his head, completely transfixed on Matsukawa as he slides his cock in. It’s painful, the lube only helping to ease the pain a bit and Hanamaki screws his eyes shut for a moment, only to reopen them as the grip on his chin gets tighter. “I said eyes on me,” Matsukawa practically growled, eyes darkened as he focused his eyes on him once more. Hanamaki doesn’t dare break the eye contact again, even as he desperately wants to throw his head back or roll his eyes back when Matsukawa finally bottoms out. Stretched beyond his limits, Hanamaki is finally able to lay back on the desk when Matsukawa gives him a kiss, short and sweet, letting his face go afterwards. “How do you feel?”

“Full,” Hanamaki honestly says, moving his hips a bit as he softly mewls, “very full.”

“Good enough for me,” Matsukawa says, rearing his hips back before slamming into Hanamaki. He practically yelps from the force of Matsukawa’s thrust, his ass jiggling from the impact. His reaction pleases Matsukawa who simply keeps up the force behind each thrusts, hands planted on either side of Hanamaki as he looks down at the man, enjoying each facial expression that comes across his face. Hanamaki reaches up to grab Matsukawa, bringing him closer as his blunt nails dig into his defined back. Matsukawa groans at the feeling of Hanamaki trying to mark him up, pressing his lips to his neck while his hips never stutter. One of his hands move down to lift up Hanamaki’s leg, holding his leg in the crook of his elbow as it dangles behind him. The adjusted position has him hitting deeper inside and rubbing against Hanamaki’s prostate with each thrust. Sucking a hickey onto his skin, Matsukawa feels Hanamaki tremble under him as warm liquid coats the front of his chest.

Matsukawa slows down his thrusts while Hanamaki finishes his second orgasm, cock bouncing as it gushes out the last bit of cum. Hanamaki looks exhausted, but Matsukawa isn’t quite done. Removing himself has Hanamaki confused, only for a moment, before he’s picking him up and swiftly placing him in his lap, back on his cock. “You’re still so fucking hard,” Hanamaki whines, feeling Matsukawa’s cock rubbing against his prostate again.

“Well, I’ve been told I have quite the stamina. I’ll let you take a break once I’ve had my own release, how about that?” Matsukawa says, although his silky words are mixed with soft pants, using up some of his energy to fuck. Matsukawa spreads Hanamaki’s legs, his hands trailing up thick thighs until he’s able to get a good grip, having Hanamaki bounce on his lap. Hanamaki tries to help, positioning his hands on the arms of the chair to stabilize himself, but soon finds his arms are too weak to hold up even half of his weight. Matsukawa does all the work while Hanamaki brushes his fingers through his hair, almost encouraging Matsukawa’s lips to press against the other side of his neck, adorning the skin with kisses and hickeys.

When Matsukawa’s thrusts start to get weak, he stops moving Hanamaki and groans, getting up from the chair without disconnecting him and Hanamaki. Bending Hanamaki over the desk, they’re both finishing together as Matsukawa rubs Hanamaki’s hardened cock with his hand. Hanamaki moans as he feels Matsukawa fill him up with his seed, only to give an open-mouthed moan when he feels him leave, his winking hole gushing with seed spent.

Hanamaki sees Matsukawa zip himself up and put on his shirt, thinking he’ll have to clean himself up. However, he’s pleasantly surprised when Matsukawa’s hand is gently pushed against his back while a warm and wet towel is cleaning up his mess. “I think I was a bit too harsh on you, sorry,” Matsukawa finally says, breaking the silence as he finishes cleaning up everything. Hanamaki doesn’t respond very well, his mind too hazy and body too numb to really process what’s going on. “Hanamaki, hello?” Is the last thing he hears before he shuts his eyes for the rest of the night.

#haikyuu smut #matsuhana smut #matsuhana #BB.Kinky #BB.Tweets #Mr. Issei #Mr. Takahiro #Hanamaki.Spice #Matsukawa.Spice #tw.guns #tw.yakuza #tw.violence #tw.death #tw.mafia

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myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants · 4 years

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This is my first collab fic and I could not be more excited! I'm so thankful that I can be part of the group!

The AU for this month was Sex Work. The Masterlist for this collab can be found here. Please take some time to check out everyone's contributions! There are other fics and amazing art!

That being said here is my fic, big BIG shout out to @doinmybesthere for being an amazing beta reader and sweet angel bb. ily Emme!

Please please please read the warnings. They are there for a reason!

Warnings: consensual noncon, mentions of being burnt, stabbing and blood; no prep penetration, disrespectful use of the word "whore", blackmail, psychological abuse?, Mineta (nuff said) he gets what's comin to him

You’re in the doctor’s office getting a regular checkup when you overhear the nurses in the station next to you talking.

“Look! They posted the new hero rankings today.”

“I forgot those were today, too bad they can’t have the conference during the pandemic. I miss seeing Deku all cute and blushing.”

“FUCK” In your brief moment of panic you forgot where you were. You cringe and look at the nurses, trying your best not to look like you were gonna be sick. “Sorry ladies, didn’t mean to yell.” No point in offering an explanation. You wouldn’t be able to tell them anything anyway.

As you very impatiently wait for your blood results to come back you check the tacky red cell phone you have to keep with you at all times. You had put it on silent since you were in the doctor’s office and you were glad you did. Taking a quick look at your screen had your stomach dropping into your ass.

M.M: Gonna move my appointment up to today.

M.M: You better get ready. I’m not happy.

M.M: I’m sure you saw the postings. Number 36.

M.M: I made sure to pay for any accidents in advance.

M.M: I’ll see you tonight.

Why does he have to be so fucking horrible? Accidents my ass.

The messages make your skin crawl, you should have figured the hero rankings would piss him off but honestly you never paid enough attention. With a heavy sigh you opened up your web browser and pull up the list.

“Number 36...number 36…. Number 36…” When you finally reached the hero you were looking for, you let out a sigh.

Hero Ranking Number 36: The Rainy Season Hero Froppy

Well at least you had her outfit already, for some reason she was one your client asked for a lot. Not that you wanted to ask him why, not with the way his black eyes looked whenever he saw you dressed up like her.

I don’t know if I should feel glad that he isn’t actually taking this out on her. Or upset that I’ve had to deal with this for months.

“L/N, Y/N?” The doctor walks up holding their clipboard and closing the privacy screen. Your file almost too much for the metal clip at the top. “Your test results came back negative and your burns seem to have healed very well. I would tell you that any strenuous activity should be avoided but we both know you can’t do that.”

Their poor attempt at humor had your stomach rolling. “Haha anyways Doc, I think I’m gonna need another medkit to take home today. I can schedule my next appointment online, right?”

You can’t handle the thinly veiled pity in their eyes and look down, reaching over to your side to grab your purse. You hear them moving around and a dark blue plastic box is put on your lap.

“If I remember correctly this is your favorite color, right? You are able schedule an appointment online but if you would like I can schedule it for you. How about in two days? Afternoon work for you?”

You look up after clutching the kit to your chest, you know they are just trying to be nice. All of the nurses are especially nice to you and as endearing as it might be to some people, to you it just feels dirty.

“Afternoon is perfect, thanks Doc.” You get up and walk towards the privacy screen. Before leaving you stop for a moment “Blue ismy favorite color.”

As you make your way back to your living quarters you scroll through the internet looking at every picture of the Pro-Hero Froppy you can find. Your quirk can project a person’s desires onto your body by reading them in their eyes. It’s easier when the person has a clear view of what or who they want. However, your client’s desires are such a jumbled mess that it’s easier if you know what it is beforehand.

Hopefully, I can act like her enough that I don’t have to look at his desires this time. I can’t stand how disgusting they make me feel.

You pass by a few familiar faces on your way back to your rooms but don’t pay them any mind. They in turn leave you alone, most of them knowing that when you have that look on your face you were in a mood.When you first were offered a position at the brothel you thought it would be easy money. You had been stripping for several years, known for how you looked different to everyone who saw your dancing. The beautiful, enchanting, flexible Erised. You had built up your quirks ability to be able to project almost a full clubs worth of desires. Sure, it caused extreme fatigue and chronic migraines but the money you raked in was well worth it.

A few months ago

After an especially successful night a patron walks up to you after you leave the stage.

“I have a job opportunity for you, courtesy of my employer.” He hands you a card you read “Heroes Consulting Agency” in bold silver letters.

“I’m a stripper hun, not sure I can do the type of consulting you’re looking for.” You go to hand it back, but they put their hand up.

“I’m afraid I must insist, why don’t we treat you to lunch and you can listen to our proposal?”

You put your hand back down and study them. They are dressed in a white button up with a vest, definitely out of place in a strip club. You would look in their eyes, but they didn’t really have any, their whole body seemed to be made of dark smoke. You don’t work in the nicest of places so someone with their kind of full body quirk isn’t unusual.

“Alright, I give. I’m not really one to pass up free food.” The rational side of your brain is telling you that you have more than enough money to buy your own food but the stingy part telling you to take it while you can is a little louder.

“Excellent choice Miss Erised. Someone will meet you at the address on that card tomorrow at around 5pm? Should give you enough time to recover from the side effects of your quirk.” They give a slight bow and walk off towards the exit, a large something getting up from a seat and following closely behind.

Sam, one of the waitresses walks up to you with a tray filled with drinks. Her normally short stature elevated with high heeled leather boots. “Did you know that person Y/N?”

Oh man, I do not have the energy for this.

You turn to her and survey the tray before grabbing something that looked like a fruity cocktail. “No, but they offered me a job. Gonna go have lunch with them tomorrow.” Sipping from the glass you tuck the card into your bra, making sure to not show it to the girl.

“That’s weird, don’t they know you’re a stripper? What is someone dressed that nicely want to hire you for? Also did that person look familiar to you or is that just me?” Any normal person wouldn’t be able to keep up with her unending questions, but you had known her for years. The tray in her hands tips dangerously to the left but she balances it out without a second thought.

Guess she does have to be quick on her toes to be a waitress at a strip club.

“They were here for my dance so yes they do know, either way I’m getting free food so…”

She huffs, aware of your attitude for anything “free”.

You finish the drink and place the empty glass back taking a couple bills from your bag and tucking them into her apron.

“Thanks for the drink Sam, but I gotta leave before my headache hits.” You walk off before she can say anything further. You really wanna be nice to her but her endless energy really gets on your nerves sometimes.

By the time you make it to your modest apartment, you can feel the pain starting behind your eyes. You drop your stuff by the door without turning on any lights and walk to the box safe hidden in the kitchen. After you make sure all the money is secure you grab a glass of water and head to the bedroom. The bottle of pain killers already set out on your nightstand. You should really take a shower but for now, you strip down, take a few pills, drink the whole glass of water, and lay down. It takes a while for the pills to kick in but once they do you finally fall asleep.

When you finally wake up the next morning your headache is gone, and you have to piss like no one’s business. You grumble as you stretch your tight sore muscles and get up to go to the bathroom. After taking care of business, you get into some light clothes and walk into the kitchen to make some food. Thankfully, you had some leftover rice and spam in the fridge, so you pop that in the microwave. You put the kettle on for some green tea and down another glass of water as it heats up.

Remembering the offer from yesterday and the promise of free food you pad over to your pile of things by the door and grab their card. It’s sleek looking with a plain black background and silver lettering. The address isn’t something you recognize right away so you look it up on your phone.

“What the fuck?” Why is this place in a business park?

You scroll down and check the street view; the building is a high rise surrounded by a mostly empty parking lot. The entrance of the building is blurred, probably to keep the privacy of anyone entering or exiting.

“Well, I guess it’s a nice gig. Better dress the part.” Or maybe you’re gonna get murdered.

“Wow, I really have to stop watching all those true crime shows.” You put the card in your wallet and head back to the kitchen. The microwave beeps and the kettle whistles shortly after. When you’re done eating you put the dishes in the sink to soak and head to the bathroom to finally take a shower.

By the time you have finished showering the whole bathroom is filled with steam and your body has a pink flush to it. You open the door to air it out and finish cleaning up for the day. Your outfit consists of your nicest jeans with ankle boots, a long sleeve blouse and a dark cardigan. You grab one of your smaller over the shoulder purses and leave your apartment.

One of the things you allowed yourself to really splurge on was a car. Public transportation was not as reliable as it could be and with your hours not the safest either.

By the time you make it to the building the sun is starting to set, giving the sky beautiful pink to blue coloring. As you park and get out of your car a young woman walks up to you.

“Welcome Miss Erised! Please follow me and I will escort you through the building.” The woman’s blonde hair is in two messy buns, her face childlike. Her voice was high pitched enough to grate on your nerves a bit, but you ignored it.

As you follow the person through the lobby you take a glance around. Looks like a high-end hotel lobby. There is a front desk area with a marble counter top, women that are dressed in matching button ups with their hair up in buns or ponytails. Random potted plants and small trees dot the area, and a nice chandelier hangs in the middle of the ceiling. No one besides the women at the front desk are in the area.

“Doesn’t seem to be busy right now.” You didn’t even really mean for her to hear you, but she did, and you sounded like an asshole.

They turn their head slightly with a knowing smirk. “It would seem that way wouldn’t it?”

Conversation halts while you stand in the elevator which you were thankful for. They had chosen a floor close to the middle of the building, which gave you just enough time to rethink your life choices.

By the time you got to your floor you are tired of the silence. Normally you hate small talk, but you figured you would give it a shot. “Do you like your job?”

The woman turns to you and smiles, here canines peeking out a bit while shrugging her shoulders. “It keeps me busy, plus I get to make so many friends.” The gleam in her eyes flashes menacingly for a quick second, you decide to pretend you didn’t see it.

As you get to the end of the hall, she opens a door and gestures you inside, closing it behind you. There is a nice desk to the left of the door, other than that the room is sparce. The person sitting in the chair has quite an eclectic look about him. Grey hair parted to the side, shrew eyes behind circular wire rimmed glasses, a gold chain peeks out from the slightly open white button up with a purple blazer. He reeks of cigarette smoke the evidence of his habit tossed into the half-filled ash tray on the desk.

“So nice of you to join me Miss Y/N. Why don’t you have a seat, we can talk about your new position.” He gestures to the only other chair a smirk on his face that shows of his missing tooth.

“I haven’t accepted the job yet Giran, and I thought I told you I don’t want to work for you.” You aren’t used to seeing him in this type of place. But you do know him so there is no need to put on a show. You lean back in the chair and cross your arms.

“How rude of me, you won’t be working for me, but I have been given authority to hire for this company.”

You don’t bat an eye; most large companies use outside help for hiring. “What is this position you would like offer me?”

“This company provides heroes with a way to alleviate their… desires in a safe and discrete way.”

“So, you hire prostitutes for heroes to have sex without worrying about anyone telling the press about it.”

“That is correct.”

“I don’t know if your just stupid or if you forgot but I’m a stripper not a hooker.” You sit up in your chair fully ready to leave the room.

“They would provide you with a fully furnished apartment, medical coverage with 24/7 access to their fully trained medical staff. Any cash given to you by your clients you can keep, however they would take a percentage out of the money they initially pay for your services.”

“Let’s say I’m a little interested, how much is the initial pay for my services?” You want to deny the offer, nothing wrong with having sex for money but it isn’t really your thing.

Giran doesn’t answer right away, instead putting out what is left of his cigarette only to pull another one out of his blazer and lighting it up. “The starting hourly rate is $2,500 an hour, they would take 30 percent from that.”

Holy shit, that’s as much as I make in a day and I would be making it an hour? You keep your face neutral but something in your eyes must have tipped him off.

“You would start tomorrow; most clients keep a contract with their favorite employee and we actually have someone lined up for you already. He has extremely specific tastes and you are the perfect person to fill in.”

“I’ll have to talk to the club owner; would it be possible to start later?” You don’t want to seem to eager, especially not in front of him.

“I don’t see that as a problem, they can give you one week but that’s it.”

You stay silent, making it look like you’re thinking about it. After a moment you lean forward in your chair and stick your hand out. “Sounds like a deal to me.”

Giran grabs you hand and gives it a firm shake. “If you ever need help or have any questions call the number on the card. Now I believe you were offered dinner, let me take you to one of my favorite places.”

You let his hand go and rise from the chair. As Giran comes around the desk and walks towards the door, he stops for a moment and turns to you. “Welcome to the team.”

Dinner was actually genuinely nice; the food was good, and you were able to have a comfortable conversation with Giran. Of course, he didn’t tell you anything about himself, but you had no problems with that, you didn’t wanna share anything to personal about yourself either. He dropped you back off at your car after dinner and shook your hand again before driving off.

By the time you got home you had decided what you were gonna tell the club owner and mentally packed your apartment. Not wanting to take all of your things you moved most of it to a secure storage facility. Having had it for a few years already in order to store the overabundance of clothes you owned.

After the week was up you had quit your job and packed all of your belongings. You realize you don’t know where you are supposed to go so you pull out the card and call the number.

“Hello, how can I assist you?”

“Giran never told me where I would be moving my stuff to. Could you give me the address?” You pick at your nails while waiting for him to answer.

“Of course, Miss Erised. Will you be needing any assistance for your move?”

He sounds so polite; I wonder if he is always like this.

“No, I’ll be fine on my own thank you.”

He gives you the address and let you know that you can call if you need any additional information.

“Good luck Miss Erised.”

When you get back to your apartment you immediately go into the shower and wash up, using the tea tree oil that Froppy had said she uses in an interview.

I don’t understand how people can like this stuff, but he gets easier to handle if I smell like those women.

When you are done you towel dry your hair and make sure to lotion your whole body. When your hair is dry enough you straighten it and leave it down. He likes it better when its down.

You go to your closet and rifle through until finding the very skimpy version of Froppys hero costume. All it really has in common with the original is the tan harness and the green with black and yellow stripes. Otherwise, it is a one-piece bikini without a crotch. You grab your black leather over the knee boots and get dressed. After checking the time, you give yourself a moment to mentally prepare.

I hate this, I hate him. Disgusting filthy little bug. A false hero, a plague. I can’t wait to leave this place.

Standing in the middle of your room you close your eyes and take deep breaths, allowing your consciousness to drift. You have found that the best way to endure these sessions is to detach yourself from the situation. Only focusing on the absolute necessary and maintaining the effects of your quirk. Giving yourself another minute to get into character you walk to the door joining your apartment to the “service room”.

Thankfully, he hasn’t shown up yet, you shut the door hearing the lock click into place, the door seamlessly vanishing into the wall. Sitting on the edge of the bed you face the door that Mineta will walk through and wait.

No matter how many times we do this I never lose the feeling of wanting to vomit while bathing in bleach.

When he walks in you see that he is wearing his hero costume, as atrocious as it is. He never really deviated from the original design. You immediately start your performance.

“Mineta? What am I doing here? kero” You clasp your hands together in front of your chest and look around frightfully.

“Hello Tsu, what a pleasant surprise to see you here.” He walks up, taking off his gloves and throwing them to the side.

“I don’t understand, do you know where- “Your sentence is cut off, pain in your cheek sharp and hot.

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to talk Miss thirty sixth hero.” He stands there with his hand still up as you cup your cheek and look up at him, the tears in your eyes real. He pulls his hand back again as if to slap you and you flinch.

“Good girl, now finish taking off my outfit for me.” Mineta walks back a few steps and holds his arms out. Your fingers are clumsy as you take it of piece by piece.

Mineta abruptly grabs a fist full of your hair and yanks your head back. You grab his hand with both of yours trying to ease his grip.

“Do you think if you do it slow enough, I’ll get bored and go away?” He pulls harder. “Huh? You really think you’re gonna get out of this don’t you.” He tosses you towards the bed and you scramble to get back on your feet.

The tears in your eyes have started to spill over and you start babbling. “Please let me go Mineta, I don’t know what I did but please pleasejust forgive me kero. I won’t tell anyone about this just please don’t hurt me kero.”

He doesn’t answer you, just finishes taking off his outfit before he is walking towards you again, a vicious gleam in his beady eyes.

You back up until the back of your legs hits the bed. You open your mouth to speak but before you can utter a single word, he slaps you again.

“I told you not to speak unless I told you to once already. Now I’m gonna have to punish you, aren’t I?” He shoves you onto the bed and follows, using his knees to push your legs open he sits up and gives himself a few pumps.” No need to prep you, I want this to hurt.”

You are sobbing at this point, your hands covering your face when you feel him push into you. A scream rips out of your throat and you reach forward to push him away.

“You know Tsu, these meetups have been the best. I’m thinking next time I will find the REAL you and have even more fun.” He closes his eyes a leans his head back, fully immersed in only getting himself off.

To engrossed in his own world, he doesn’t realize that you have gone still. Your tears have stopped, and you have pulled your hands back from him.

DISGUSTING

“Find the real me?”

VILE

You break character, bringing your full consciousness back. You voice is just a whisper at first, so he doesn’t hear you, doesn’t stop thrusting.

FALSE HERO

“Find the REAL me?!” You are screaming at him now.

He finally stops, hearing you the second time. For a second you see fear in his eyes before they fill with rage.

MONSTER

“Hey! You better start doing the job I paid you for, I don’t come here for you to question me.” He lifts his hand up, as if to slap you again. Before his hand comes down you grab it, squeezing until he yelps in pain.

This job is over, he isn’t worth keeping around anymore.

“You think I give a shit about a little piss ant like you?!” As you sit up, he yanks his arm away and pulls out of you. Stumbling back, he starts shaking a finger in your direction.

“You can’t talk to me like that! You’re just a whore!”

You dart forward before he can put more distance between you and grab him by the neck. As you pick him up you snarl and let your quirk fade away.

“I may be a whore but I not a monster like you. You are just a fake hero, a plague on this world and I will get rid of every single one of you.” You throw him onto the ground still holding on to his neck and squeeze.

“In other news, Minoru Mineta also known as the pro hero Grape Juice has gone missing after several videos of him have gone viral. He was last seen leaving a brothel that has requested to remain nameless. The videos contain triggering scenes of the pro hero having relations with a prostitute while she is dressed in various hero suits the resemble his old female classmates. He even refers to them by name. The videos contain triggering images, and it is recommended to not seek them out. The original videos have since been taken down but are reuploaded onto the internet on several other sites. The prostitute shown in the videos has also gone missing. Any information on the whereabouts- “

The T.V. turns off, the voice of the news anchor no longer filling the dimly lit bar. The people present remain silent for a moment before a man with burns all over his body starts to laugh.

“You could have really fucked that up Doll. Good thing we got enough evidence.” You sneer at him, making sure you change your appearance to match your own desire. He flinches when he sees his own face.

“I wish you had cut him! There wasn’t enough blood to keep his appearance up for awfully long!” The young woman with two messy blond buns in her hair twirls a knife around.

“I’m terribly sorry Toga, but I didn’t have anything sharp with me.” You pick at your nails and look over at Kurogiri, who is busy pouring a glass of whiskey for Dabi. “Do I get a break after this one or do you and boss man have another gig for me?”

#lillith masterlist #lillith writes #lilliths writing

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kiwikyuu · 4 years

Text

━━━━━━━━ all the different shades of orange ; hinata shōyō

summary — whoever said that hinata shōyō is a ball of sunshine is a liar

word count — 3k

genre — imagine ; kinda enemies to lover, fluff

warning(s) — major spoilers about spring interhigh for those of you who haven't read the manga, insults thrown around, kinda out of character hinata, cursing, not edited

a/n — okay but have y'all seen e2l hinata shōyō besides kagehina lmao because i haven't and thought it'd be interesting to try out. also wow i have never put so much effort into a work like this one (hopefully it reaches a lot of people and you can all find some joy in reading!)

❝ WATCH WHERE YOU'RE FUCKING GOING NEXT TIME, YOU ROTTEN BELL PEPPER. ❞

Hate was a strong word but the flaring anger in your heart and overwhelming urge to run into a wall whenever your eyes landed on that tangerine said otherwise. It wasn't that you went out of your way to dislike someone that has everyone wrapped around their finger. It just so happened that you had no tolerance for bullshit, and Hinata Shōyō pissed you off in every way possible.

It started on the first day of high school.

Walking beside Minari, a friend from middle school, the two of you were eager to leave the building. The idea of grabbing steamed buns had unraveled itself in your mind, and what better way to enjoy food than by sharing?

"Are you going to try out for any clubs?" Your elbow bumped against hers as you two walked the slowly emptying hallway. "I think I saw the girls soccer team holding tryouts soon."

Minari shrugged, but you could already see the thoughts pinging in her mind. "I might if I can."

See, the two of you had almost reached the staircase when it happened. Minari's long hair covered her view from time to time, so you were used to looking out for her while chastising the girl about the usefulness of a hairband. But what you didn't expect as you pulled the girl aside just as a gaggle of guys rushed by was the full strength of a short orange-haired boy catching you off guard and nearly sending you tumbling down the flight of stairs.

"I'm sorry! I - I didn't see you there!" He shouted, his hand coming out to latch instinctively onto your school uniform before you could be thrown back far. "And on the first day too... I'm so sorry! Please accept my apology."

You stared at the short boy standing before you looking positively green with anxiety and guilt. Minari was already calming him down with mentions of accepting his apology, but all you could focus on was the pounding beat of your heart and the tingling feeling in your legs from your near-fatal experience.

"Watch where you're fucking going next time, you rotten bell pepper," you muttered before pushing his fingers off your now wrinkled white shirt.

You had walked away first, Minari in tow, but not before catching the shine of his name tag, 'Hinata Shōyō,' and the wide-eyed stare on his face that sent shivers down your back.

From that day forward, every flash of orange around the school seemed to be followed by a glare on your end and a roll of eyes on his.

"You're in the way, pumpkin head." Your words cut through the chattering hallway and sliced at Hinata who in turn threw you a pointed look, something that all the First Year students knew by now was reserved for only you. "I'm trying to get to the library, but somebody's walking too slow. Aren't you supposed to be on the volleyball team?"

Hinata scoffed, but stepped aside to let you through. Dirty looks were all he had in his armory apparently as time after time after sending an insult or two his way, he held his tongue. You liked to think it was because he didn't have the proper brain cells to form a response, but sometimes you wondered if you were being too much.

Up ahead, Minari waved at you to hurry before all the seats at the library were taken. Shaking yourself of your thoughts, you walked over to her. Unbeknownst to you, while you shouldered your bag, your wallet tipped over and fell out at a certain somebody's feet.

Hinata picked up your ratty wallet, noticing it on the floor, and went to call out to you before catching himself. What did he care? Still, unable to ignore it, he pocketed your belonging making note to give it back to you later. Right now, he had a game to worry about.

Somehow you had ended up at the Karasuno vs. Aoba Johsai game during the Interhigh Preliminaries. Minari had dragged you up to the stands as discreetly as possible after convincing you that she wasn't feeling up to study. Considering she had her eyes set on a certain 5'10 blueberry, you were foolish enough to think that she'd wanted to take you some place fun.

Now as the two of you stared down at the game happening eagerly, you let out a sigh upon noticing Hinata. As if your day couldn't have gotten worse after misplacing your wallet, you were displeased to find that he was looking right back up at you with the same wide-eyed stare he had when you two had first met.

Shivers ran down your back almost as if on cue, and you tore your gaze away from him fully ready to leave the gymnasium and trudge back home. But had you turned away, you would have missed the freakish oddball combination execute their quick attack.

"Holy shit," you breathed. "What the fuck was that?"

Minari smirked. "Tobio-kun is a great setter, isn't he? Or were you too focused on Mr. Bell Pepper to notice."

You shot her a frosty look, pushing down the stuttering emotion starting to rise in your chest that most definitely did not feel like anger. "As if."

The game continued for what seemed like days but turned out to be hours at most ending at a score of 1:2 in Aoba Johsai's favor.

Deafening silence overtook your ears. Minari was quick to leave the stands, mumbling something about consoling the fallen setter while your eyes searched for some semblance of sunshine in Hinata's sullen ones.

Spotting his sunken expression, you felt yourself regret the hatred that had sparked for him for just a moment. A fleeting moment that buried itself in your heart, planting a seedling of growing doubt.

"Minari, we have to catch the bus back!" You called out to your friend as you joined her on the gymnasium floor.

She glanced your way, halting the conversation she had began with her Tobio-kun. "Two minutes, and then we can go. Please?"

You nodded despite feeling discomfort crawling up your spine at being surrounded now by those you didn't know. You settled by the door, checking your phone mindlessly to pass the short time only looking up when an outstretched hand came into view.

"You dropped this earlier." Hinata's words were short, sharp, and you were suddenly glad you had never been on the end of his scathing remarks. "On your way to the library," he continued.

"Oh," was all your malfunctioning mind could come up with as he took your open hand in his, placing your wallet gently in your palm. The warmth of his skin seemed pressed into your own even after he had started to stalk away.

Clearing your throat, you spoke before you could stop yourself. "You did well today. I - uh," you paused. What were you even saying? "I watched from the stands."

He offered you a soft smile, one that you realized could light the world aflame, before walking back to his awaiting team.

You placed your hand over your drumming heart, sedating the flustered feeling he had left behind with you, chanting in your mind over and over again that Hinata Shōyō was a menace and you had no plan to ever like him let alone fall for him.

But no one ever plans to fall in love.

The Karasuno Boys Volleyball Club seemed to practice non-stop funnily enough, rather motivated by their loss from months ago instead of despaired. Minari had become a regular face during practice as she cheered the boys on in an attempt to woo Kageyama still, and by fault, so had you.

"Y/N, Tangerine's on his way over here." Minari nudged you, stealing your attention from the workbook open in your lap.

You shrugged, trying to focus on anything other than your slowly rising heartbeat. "Why? Did the coach bench him for his subpar plays?"

"No, actually Tangerine wanted to give you something but he's currently reconsidering."

You looked up immediately, eyes narrowing upon noticing Hinata standing in front of you with a small smirk. "You're looking really fucking smug for a guy who still needs to work on his skills. Kageyama says you lack basic technique."

Hinata rolled his eyes at you. "You're being rude."

"It's because I don't like you," you answered smoothly. "So get back to practice before you lose any more volleyball brain cells."

He let out a small laugh. Turning away, for a moment you thought he'd actually leave as simple as that, but just before he took another step, he tossed something your way. It fell on top of your workbook, smacking against the thin pages, causing a couple of the boys to look your way while Hinata jogged back to the net.

Minari leaned in closer to you. "He got you—" She cocked her head in confusion. "A wallet?"

It was a deep shade of orange that almost made you laugh out in irony. Detailed with card slots and a latch with snapping buttons, the wallet was definitely an improvement from the one you had right now.

"That's sweet... right?" Minari questioned, watching your expression as you opened the wallet to reveal a note — scratchy handwriting on a scrap of notebook paper.

'thought your wallet looked ratty old. not in a mean way of course!!!!

— your favorite, Pumpkin Head Shōyō

ps. my sister picked out the color :p'

"Stupid fucking carrot," you whispered under your breath, feeling your cheeks grow warm at his message. "I don't need a new wallet."

Minari scoffed at your words, turning to face you completely and taking your hands in hers with seriousness. "Be honest with me." You stared at her blankly. "Be honest, and tell me if you actually hate Hinata as much as you say you do. Why don't you just drop the act? You two obviously like each other enough to be friends, so why keep this all up? Isn't it tiring?"

Her words echoed through the hallways of your mind minutes, hours, and days after. Sitting at your desk in school, on your walk home, lying in bed staring up at the ceiling, they were as loud as life itself.

You thumbed the straps of your bag while waiting for the bus. The sun was slowly dropping from the sky, setting on the horizon leaving you in a thoughtful orange haze.

You two obviously like each other enough to be friends, so why keep this all up? Isn't it tiring?

The weeks following were conflicting and chaotic. Exam season settled on Karasuno High School jolting the students and staff into a cloud of stress.

You spent your spare time at the library, eyes boring into material that just wouldn't stick while a certain rotten bell pepper took his seat next to you.

"I have to pass my finals or Sugawara senpai is going to nail me to a wall," Hinata explained, spreading his notebooks out on the desk and bumping his elbow against yours in the process. "You do well in your classes, right? Do you — " He looked abash. "D - Do you mind helping me?"

Against your better judgement, you nodded. Looking back now, you suppose that's where your odd friendship began.

Days on end, the two of you would stay behind to cycle through the material slowly building a tolerance of each other much to everyone's surprise.

"Do you still hate me?" The question came one night, the weekend before his exams.

Hinata looked at you from where he sat on the swings, kicking his feet at the sandy grounds. The two of you were at the park, cooling off after a long study session.

Your eyes fell to the can of convenience store coffee in your hands. The slight of the passing breeze drilled his question further in your mind.

"No, I don't think so," came your answer, words wobbly and unsure despite the thrum of your heart beating loudly against your chest and the warmth in your cheeks.

Silence filled the space between you two before Hinata finally spoke up again.

"Then do you like me?"

Your body felt lit aflame, mind jumping immediately to the way he made you feel things you hadn't much before. "As a friend," you decided after a moment of flustered emotions. "We're friends, I guess."

Hinata nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I like you." He took a deep breath. "As more than a friend, but if you feel that way then I'll wait for you. We have time."

His confession became lost among the flurry of thoughts and colliding emotions raging on inside you. Before you could say anything in response, Hinata got to his feet, shooting you that now familiar smile of his and offering you his hand.

The new year overwhelmed your senses like a storm of rain after a drought. Refreshed after the break, you returned to school with a new sense of purpose amplified by the motivation the new year always brings.

Hinata's confession had remained in your mind, pushed to the back by celebration but still bugging you every so often. The apricot haired boy had showed up, throwing ping pong balls (of all things) at your window to catch your attention over the break asking if you wanted to go grab something sweet with him. You promptly responded with a rejection, only to find yourself walking with him ten minutes later.

"How was your break?" Minari asked, bundled in a jacket, scarf, and hat. She joined you at your side, catching you on your walk from the bus stop to school.

You shrugged, pulling your puffy jacket closer to you. "It was okay. You?"

She smiled. "Hung out with Tobio-kun. We went for hot chocolate, and he taught me how to set." Her eyes seemed almost dazzling at the memory, and you laughed, pushing her lightly away.

"You and your Tobio-kun are positively gross," you said. "Absolutely—"

Your words were halted at the feeling of warm fabric settling around your neck and a known face popping up beside you with a proud smile.

"Stay warm. You can give it back to me later," Hinata said before jogging away to catch up with a pair of Second Year boys ahead.

Your hand came up to the green scarf around your neck, failing to form comprehensive sentences. Heart thundering, you ignored the funny looks others sent your way. Glancing at Minari, you caught her slipping giggles.

"What happened to Hinata Shōyō being a rotten bell pepper?"

"Shut up."

Lending you his scarf when days seemed too cold was just the beginning of it all. Days turned into weeks turned into months of Hinata pining after you and you—though obvious to everyone else—trying to decipher your feelings for him.

"Hey, I missed you," Hinata said to you lightly after you had agreed to drop something off for Kageyama on Minari's behalf. Quickly realizing the meaning of his words, however, Hinata corrected himself. "I mean—um, as in I m - missed you earlier. Like... like I didn't catch you today, you know?"

You tilted your head at him with endearment, a small smile playing across your lips at the sight of his blushing face. "Yeah, don't worry. I got it, sweet potato."

His flustered expression dropped. "You think I'm sweet?"

Your eyes widened, stuttering to form a response and correct yourself out of this situation you had suddenly been thrusted in. Luckily, Kageyama came to your rescue before you could embarrass yourself.

"Hinata, boke, stop flirting with Y/N!" The tall blueberry haired boy towered over Hinata with a menacing glare and a scoff. Kageyama turned to you with a blank look you took for an apologetic expression.

Shaking your head profusely, you put your hands up in surrender. "Ah, no worries, Kageyama. I—uh, I have something for you from Minari. She has classroom duties today, so she couldn't come herself."

Kageyama nodded, taking the wrapped bento box that Minari had prepared for him from your outstretched hands. He mumbled words of thanks before stalking off while muttering under his breath a colorful range of insults at Hinata who in turn sent him a funny face.

The Spring Interhigh was coming up, and you were sure the Karasuno Boys Volleyball Club was itching for redemption after what had happened last August. Deciding that you didn't want to interrupt their practice any further, you made move to leave only to stop at the feeling of a hand on your wrist.

Glancing back, you raised an eyebrow in surprise at Hinata's sudden action. "What are you—"

The tangerine boy had exchanged his lighthearted expression of just minutes ago with a look that you could only describe as properly motivated. "When we make it to Nationals, promise to give me a chance."

All around you, the gym seemed to fade until only Hinata was in your line of vision.

When we make it to Nationals, he had said, not if.

Unable to respond, you found yourself nodding because who were you to kid yourself at this point?

The Karasuno Boys Volleyball Club did, in fact, make it to Nationals, but unfortunately lost to Kamomedai High School in the quarter-final round while Hinata spent his time at the hospital.

Hooked up to an IV line and dressed in one of those flimsy hospital gowns, Hinata looked unusually weak laying down on the bed. The others had left not long after you had arrived though some took more convincing than others.

"Next time, you can keep your scarf to yourself," you said, cutting the silence short with a lighthearted remark.

Hinata smiled weakly at that, his hand coming to rest atop your folded ones on your lap. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

You shook your head. "Obviously, you can't take care of yourself." Slipping your hands from under his, you took the hand warmers out of your pockets and placed one in each of his hands. "Luckily, you got me."

His face lit up. "Oh, do I now?"

Warmth spread through your body as you looked away from his hopeful gaze. "Well, you did make it to Nationals."

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #hinata headcanons #hinata imagine #hinata shoyo x you #hinata shoyo x y/n #hinata x reader #hinata x you #hinata x y/n #hinata shoyo headcanons #hinata shoyo imagine #hinata shoyo x reader

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internalsealpanic · 4 years

Text

Fabulous Friday Evenings

Summary: You were having a really bad day. Conner decides to help cheer you up and make sure your drunk ass doesn’t face plant on the side walk.

masterlist

word count: 2,652

a/n: Special thanks to @anothertimdrakestan for helping with the ending and helping with editing! Love you, Elle!

warnings: alcohol and swearing and author does not know how alcohol works. No one is under the drinking age. This may benefit from more editing.

"Mosht people are jusht the careful scaffolding of complexshesh," you slurred, your face red, head half buried in your arms, and golden ear cuffs winking under the dim bar lights.

"You somehow still sound like a fucking nerd even you're when drunk," Conner laughed throwing his head back, handsome face stretched with a cheeky smile. "You look like a mess," he said softly, reaching out for your cheek.

"Fuhk you! Not eberyone can be born too pretty for their own guhd- how did yah evehn know I was here? It was Tim wasn't it! "

"Good guess buuuut it was actually Bart" Conner explained casually taking a seat next to you as you lifted your head momentarily before plopping it back down to stare at the amber gloss of the drink. The light from the ceiling seemed to dance so elegantly in your eyes even as you wrinkled your brows. "That rat," you cursed miserably into your arm.

Across from you, a pretty brunette shot you two a wink and without looking you could tell Conner flirted in kind. Normally, you'd have the audacity to steal the girl's attention away before Conner could even make a proper move but tonight you were in absolutely no mood to be charming. In fact, you were sloshed. You didn't know whether it was the fourth or fifth drink that did it but there you were sitting next to one of the most attractive people he knew with your makeup smeared and eyes still swollen and puffy. You kind of just want a portal to open up and swallow you.

The brunette made a motion to her friends which indicated that she was gonna try her luck and you wished her the best of luck. You bit your soft lips before pressing them into a pout. It took everything in Conner not to kiss you on the spot. Be the responsible one they said. It would be fun, they said.

"We should go. You're-"

"Have fun," you said, patting him on the shoulder, cutting him off curtly; placing some cash on the bar before leaving. The buxom brunette approached Conner placing a hand on the shoulder you’d just touched moments before. He didn’t seem to notice her, his mind still lingering on the warmth of your hand. Before she can say anything, he pivots and runs towards you .

The casual slump in your shoulders in place of your usual elegance was a pretty good indication that you would probably fall in a gutter before you got home. Conner highly doubted you could see straight.

"I can’t believe Roz let you get this sloshed without checking on you," He joked bringing one of your arms over his shoulder and slinging his own arm around you for balance. You walked like a newborn horse. It was incredibly embarrassing and you wanted to die. Conner, on the other hand, just found it incredibly hilarious.

"She's out getting into her own brand of sloshed at a bachelorette party,"

"Huh. Didn't know she was the wedding type. Thought she hated going to those,"

"She's the stripper," You deadpanned, sounding abnormally sober. With that Conner let out a genuinely hearty laugh. You would trade all the martinis, dackories, and margaritas in the world just to get drunk on that laugh.

"That reminds me," Conner drawled, adjusting his hold feeling just how shaky you were from the late October Metropolis weather pressing you closer to his warm body. You kind of wanted to melt into his side but you had too much pride. "Bart never said why you were out here getting shit faced," You frowned at him but couldn't really muster any sharpness into your expression.

There were lots of reasons to get 'shit faced' even in shiny Metropolis. You twitched your nose and mouth side to side gathering the makings of a sentence. Where do you even start? Your little sister got suspended, your mother (who somehow found out you were in Metropolis) is either demanding money or for you to drop everything to go back home to help around the house (translation: help out with the bills while babysitting your siblings), Bats and some other league members were on your ass for the last mission (probably the only thing on this list you found reasonable), this morning, you got fired from your library job so they could hire Marco's girlfriend (who is in fact a perfectly nice person which means you can't really hate her), or the dozens of little annoyances such as Bart not being able to keep his trap shut.

"This week was just a little much,"

A long moment of silence passes between you. Uncharacteristic for Conner but it was cute that he thought silence would make you fess up.

"You know I could have gone home on my own. That brunette looked like she was up for a good time,"

"Yeah right. Also you're welcome."

"You're right. Thank you for getting blue balled this fine evening to escort me" you didn't want to be prickly but Conner was being too nice and that made your skin crawl. Why couldn’t he be mean to you right now like a normal person?

"First off, she wasn't even my type-" You raised a brow.

"Kon, her tits were the size of Jupiter-"

"Did you really just say 'tits'?"

You threw him a scowl clearly sobering up from irritation.

"Shut up. Point iiiis, you didn't have to-"

"You just said-"

"Oh for the love of- yes, I said tits. Speaking of which you should be staring at some instead of having to lug my sorry ass around on this fabulous Friday evening." Your hand fluttering, gesturing vaguely in the air.

"Eh. There'll be other Fridays" Kon shrugged. Pulling you closer and some selfish part of you felt relieved.

----------

Much to your surprise (you really ought not to be), Roz wasn't home yet which meant you had to dig out the keys from the secret hiding spot- another hassle. You reached out peeling a hilariously well concealed hole in the wall and fished out the set of jingling keys. Conner looked like he was between amusement and bewilderment. Good enough. At least, this stopped Conner's 30 minute TED Talk about the new 70s sitcom he'd found.

You two entered the shoe box apartment clumsily thanks to your disastrous limbs.

You blew out a breath and muttered a thanks as Conner helped you plop onto the couch. Though, it was more like gravity decided to magnetize your body to the couch and Conner just let it happen.

You shut his eyes for a moment wrapping a ragged blanket around you. You made a mental note to raid the thrift store for a new one. Preferably one void of holes.

"So what's up and don't you dare say it was nothing. I've never seen you this hammered before," He said handing you a mug of steaming hot chocolate.

"Does it occur to you that I might get hammered like this often and you might just not see it? Who knows maybe I'm actually a functional alcoholic?"

"Ok, first off, you are barely functional. Second, that might be your weakest deflection yet. Try again,"

"Ok... did it occur-"

"I didn't mean it lite- just tell me what happened. Everyone's worried,"

You stared at the steam rising from the fresh cup of cocoa. It was none of Conner's business. It was no one’s business. Your friends were too goddamn nice. Blowing out another breath, you said "You might wanna sit down too,"

Conner takes his own mug of hot cocoa and sits next to you because for some reason eye contact made you a better liar and Conner for all his dumb decisions wasn't gonna let you off the hook that easily. You shifted uncomfortably and muttered about either Cassie or Roz ratting you out. He assumed it was the eye contact thing. Conner felt a little offended. He might not be Tim but he’s smart enough to figure it out on his own. Despite his hurt feelings and bruised ego, he decided to table that and focus on the current issue or, likely, issues.

"Do you want it in alphabetical order?"

"Please tell me you can actually do that," Conner teased with a wide grin. You couldn’t fight off a smile forming on your face. "Sadly, I am not Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. My brain cells work like a normal person's,"

"Didn't you die?"

"Death only fixes stupid when you stay dead. You've seen Red Hood and whichever other Ex-Robin has been to the pearly gates,"

"You say that as if Jason wouldn't tell the big man to fuck off,"

You blinked and turned your head up to the ceiling. "Ok that's true," You conceded, your mouth twitching rapidly from side to side making you look like an exasperated rabbit. Cute.

"So what's up?"

All the good mood from the past few minutes dissipated in an instant. You looked down solemnly at the still steaming mug. You were silent for what felt like an eternity.

"It's family- Immediate. And the source of all evil-"

"Lex Corp?"

You snorted a shy tired smile cracked across your face. You shook your head. Those little gestures just make Conner feel a little warmer. You, on the other hand, cursed at how easily Conner could make you laugh. You were supposed to be sad damn it.

"Money," Conner knew immediate family was always a sore spot for you. No one knew the specifics except Roz but that was inevitable when you're cousins. Money was also a sore spot and based on your near dead tone. You’ve either lost a lot of it or you’re in a tight spot but not ready to elaborate.

"Wanna try buying a lottery ticket?"

"What?"

"Who knows you might get lucky?"

"You could have gotten lucky you if you-"

"Are you seriously gonna keep bringing that up?"

"Yes, most likely. Depends,"

"On what?!"

"On whether I can think of something funnier to give you shit about or if you can convince me-whatever the fuck you're thinking of doing stop!"Conner's cheeky grin did not disappear nor did the faint flush on your cheeks.

"I wasn't thinking of anything, you sick pervert" he laughed. You really should have been exasperated with Conner. You tried damn it. You looked at him skeptically before violently letting his head rest on Conner’s shoulder causing the other boy to fall over.

"Aaaaaaawwwww babe , if you wanted to cuddle you could have just said so,"

You wanted to. In fact, both of you wanted to. But unfortunately neither of you were martian and neither of you was willing to say jack. You closed your eyes trying to pretend Conner wasn't a little shit. Conner radiated too much smug for that though.

"Shut up," You mumbled into Conner's shoulder already feeling sleep pull him under. You clung to him. Maybe just for tonight you can indulge in this. Just for a little while you can cling to Conner's warmth. Maybe in the morning your head will ache too much to remember this. Waking up alone wouldn't be too painful then. Hopefully.

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

You woke up feeling like a troop of Can Caning hippos decided to host a live performance all over your head. You sighed remembering that you had in fact run out of Aspirin just days before so you decided on just lying there and praying that Roz also needed Aspirin and had more energy to run to the store.

You settled in nuzzling in to the warm-

Wait. It was October.

Nothing in the apartment should be warm.

NOTHING.

Then, you heard it. A LOUD snore. It honestly sounded more like the roar of an engine than anything. Everything else followed. The slow rising and falling of the chest beneath you, the press of stubble against your forehead, and the strong arms loosely wrapped around you.

Yeah. You died again. Yeah. You finally went to heaven. Yup. You were ok with that. You were definitely 100% A Ok with this if this was heaven. Being held tenderly by the guy you liked while you got a good night’s sleep was definitely heaven. God, you were such a sap.

How the hell you missed all of that baffled you.

Oh wait. Dancing hippos. Fuck.

Your head felt like it was threatening to crack open but somehow you honestly could not mind even if you tried. You were laying on top of a hot (literally and metaphorically) guy mutually cuddling. You nuzzled into the junction between Conner’s neck and shoulder in an attempt to steal more warmth. Sure, you were probably gonna go deaf from the snoring. Sure, you were definitely irritated by the stubble pressed against your face. And sure, you would probably die of embarrassment once Conner woke up. You could worry about all that later. All you could think about was how nicely your arms fit around Conner’s neck and how Conner’s arms wrap around you a little tighter in return.

Click.

You could hear the distinct sound of your own camera shutter. Each sound chipped away at your peace of mind. You lifted your head only to see Roz holding your camera.

TAKING PICTURES.

Your cousin was nothing if not a petty opportunist.

“I would tell you to get a room buuuut the only bedroom iiiiis preeeeeeetty occupied,” Roz drawled smugly way too pleased with herself. You opened his mouth to ask but you’d already made the mistake of walking in on Roz and a guest once and you were pretty sure you needed more therapy for that than you did for your murder. You just sighed as Roz took another picture.

“Come on, (y/n), smile a little,”

“I’m not smiling for your blackmail material,”

Roz gasped trying to sound scandalized. She failed, only sounding amused beyond belief. “It’s only blackmail if you’re ashamed of it. Personally, I think you’re scoring big time,”

“Roz please just fuck off before you wake him up,”

“Too fuckin’ late for that. He’s been awake for awhile,”

You could feel Conner smiling into your hair and his arms wrap around you a little tighter. You tried to straighten up. To tower over him. To look intimidating.

But…. you couldn’t. You were kind of trapped because, yanno, super strength.

You were seething and threw a scowl at Conner who only chuckled at you in response.

“You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?” You snarled, clearly exasperated and feeling the hippos start their encore performance.

“ Mmmmmm, it depends,” Nope. The hippos did not only come back for an encore. They brought friends. Based on the absolutely smug look on Conner’s face, you were in for an entire parade.

You let out a breath not sure if you wanted to play this game but not really seeing any other options. “On what?“

Conner paused and hummed and hummed and hummed some more as if he was actually thinking but you knew from the crook of his lips that he had this planned out. Maybe not this exact scenario but something close“Go out on a date with me,”

You blinked then rolled your eyes theatrically enough that your head rolled along with it. “And be seen with you in public?” You teased, an almost sheepish smile tugging at your features.

Yeah, Conner wasn’t exactly expecting you to say yes.

“Yeah. Sure. Why not?” You said playing it off as casually as possible but you couldn’t help but mirror the absolutely goofy grin plastered on Conner’s face. His happiness was infectious. You felt weightless. It was probably the fact that you were floating with him but you were pretty sure you were just on cloud nine. You were doomed. Definitely, inevitable, indubitably doomed. Even though everything has been shit up to now. The happiness radiating off of Conner was enough to make everything feel a little better.

Thank you so much for reading!

tag list:

@idkmanicantenglish

@batarella (I thought you might like it?)

#conner kent x reader #conner kent #conner kent imagine #My writing #dc fanfiction #DC comics #kon el x reader #kon el imagine

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caffeinatedbraincell · 4 years

Text

I’m back on my bullshit with more TOG fluff, have fun :)

Read on AO3

Joe stumbled into the kitchen, soaking wet and wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He looked around frantically before making a beeline toward the countertop. He lunged for the notebook lying there.

Behind him, Nicky yelped. “Yusuf!”

Joe turned around to find his husband carrying a package of flour in his arms, which he’d apparently been retrieving from the pantry while Joe barged into his workspace.

“Hmm?” Joe said distractedly, already starting to feel the lines slipping. Damnit, why did the perfect words for his poems always only occur to him in the shower? Meter, alliteration, emotion… he’d had it all at the tip of his tongue moments ago. He just needed to write it down before he-

“Hayati, you better have a good reason for standing dripping wet and half-naked in my kitchen. There’s soapy water everywhere! You’ve made such a mess, Joe, and I just mopped…”

Nicky’s lamentations continued, and Joe tried desperately to listen while mentally reciting what was left of the lines he’d composed in the shower.

“Joe?” Nicky’s fingers snapped impatiently in front of his face. “Are you even listening to me?”

The last vestiges of his beautifully crafted words evaporated from his brain, and Joe sighed, shoulders slumping forward. “I’m sorry, Nicky. I’ll clean it up.”

He turned to grab a spare dish towel from the cabinet, shivering slightly as a wayward breeze hit his damp skin. Before he could take two steps, Joe felt a gentle hand around his wrist.

Nicky maneuvered the flour package onto the table and leveled him with a mortifyingly discerning look. “What happened, love?”

Joe remained silent, unsure of how to go about explaining the absurdity of his current presence in the kitchen. The whole endeavor seemed rather stupid in retrospect. And it wasn’t like he had a line or two of breathtaking poetry to show for it, either.

Nicky’s eyes widened a little at his hesitation. “Are you alright, Joe? Are you hurt?” He ran his hands fretfully up and down Joe’s arms and chest, feeling for traces of an injury. Joe’s eyes snapped up guiltily, and he took hold of Nicky’s wrists and brought them to his lips.

“I am alright, amore. I mean it. Not at all hurt. Please do not worry.”

“You’re trembling. Go dry off and wear something warm, I’ll take care of the floor. Then you can tell me what’s going on.”

Minutes later, Joe emerged from their room in one of Nicky’s large, fleece-lined hoodies. He found Nicky in the kitchen, wringing out a towel into the sink. As soon as he saw Joe, Nicky walked over and pressed a warm mug of hot cocoa into his hands.

“Let’s sit on the couch?”

Joe nodded, following his husband to the living room and curling up next to him on the cushions. A small blaze was starting to catch in the fireplace. Outside, rain poured with a vengeance. Nicky had closed the window but left the curtains open. Joe smiled to himself. He had never met anyone who loved the rain as much as his Nicoló.

“Drink, hayati. We can’t have you catching a cold. See, I even added those tiny marshmallows you like.”

Joe took a large sip from the cup, sighing softly as the chocolate-covered notes of nutmeg and cinnamon floated over his tongue. He nuzzled closer to Nicky, feeling a little overcome with warmth and love.

Nicky wrapped his arms around Joe and pulled him closer. “So, are you going to tell me what prompted you to run out here mid-shower in the cold of winter?”

“I thought of the right words,” Joe mumbled into Nicky’s holiday-green jumper.

“Hmm?”

“For a poem I was writing. I’ve been struggling for days with a particular section and it suddenly came to me while showering. I wanted to write it down before I forgot.”

A comfortable silence blanketed them for several minutes. Joe took another sip of his drink, savoring it gratefully.

“You didn’t, though.”

“What?” Joe asked.

“You didn’t write anything down. You came into the kitchen, but you never even opened your notebook.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot the words. They never stay for long.”

“Was it because I yelled at you?”

“No! No, amore, that was well-deserved. And you didn’t yell at me, you just…emphatically expressed your displeasure at having to mop again. Which is fair, honestly.”

Nicky chuckled, and Joe felt his heart fill with warmth all over again. He set the empty cocoa mug aside and tenderly pressed his lips to Nicky’s.

The next morning, Joe found a whole set of brand-new children’s bath crayons in the shower, stacked neatly next to their soaps and shampoos.

___

The crayons turned out to be a life-changing convenience. This became clear just three weeks after they arrived, when Joe found himself in a position to send a completed manuscript of his current poetry book to his publisher ahead of the deadline.

“This has literally never happened before,” he told Nicky in awe. “I’m always late, if anything. You are a genius, my love, thank you so much for the pre-Christmas present.”

Nicky all but preened. “Had you told me earlier, I would have gotten the crayons for you ages ago.”

“Ah,” Joe replied a little bashfully, “I didn’t actually know such a thing existed until you got them.”

It was when Joe returned from a brief meeting with his publisher the following day that he and Nicky had their first actual fight in several months. It started, like most of their fights, with empty stomachs and a grocery trip oversight.

“Joe, there’s no fresh garlic in this bag!”

“There was none at the store. Use the minced garlic in the fridge.”

“What?!”

Joe rolled his eyes. “It’s the same thing, Nicky. Better, in fact, since it’s saving you the trouble of having to chop it yourself.”

“Have you ever heard of making roasted garlic cloves using minced garlic?”

“I have not,” Joe conceded. “We should make something else.”

Nicky knew he was being impractical. Obviously, there was nothing Joe could have done if they were out of stock at the store. But Nicky had been planning this dish for days, and had already promised Nile he would send her some as part of his ongoing campaign to refute her claim that “any form of garlic except garlic bread is gross.”

There was no way Joe could have known about that, either, but Nicky was in no mood to admit any such thing.

“Joe, you had one job! I gave you a grocery list!”

Joe turned from where he was stocking the refrigerator, brow furrowed. “I don’t know what exactly you expect me to do about the store being out of garlic.”

“I don’t know, maybe check another store? Was that the only grocery store in this city?”

“Nicky, I think you should go to your room.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s just…you’re hungry. And you’re clearly not prepared to cook without fresh garlic. So let me do the cooking, and you, uh, do something else. Outside of the kitchen.”

“Are you kicking me out of my kitchen?”

“Our kitchen, madre de dio, Nicky! I’m trying to help you!”

“Maybe you could help me by actually getting the stuff I asked you to get from the store!”

“You know what, if you need whole garlic so urgently, get it yourself. It’s dark and below freezing outside. There is no way I’m wandering from store to store at this hour to fulfill this baseless whim of yours.”

That, Nicky knew, was a completely justified response to his unreasonable anger. But it hurt nevertheless.

“Fine,” he whispered, grabbing his coat and storming out the front door before Joe could see the tears prickling in his eyes.

Joe stared at the door, astonished. Part of him wanted desperately to follow Nicky outside. Of course he could check a couple more stores. If Nicky genuinely wished for something, Joe would go to the ends of the Earth, scour Heaven and Hell, to get it for him. No amount of ego was worth knowing his beloved was out there, hungry and alone, in the frigid wind.

But Joe was also well aware that he wasn’t at fault here. And Nicky, his Nicky, rarely reacted like this to their disagreements; perhaps he just needed some time for himself. It wouldn’t be right for Joe to impose his company when his husband clearly didn’t want it.

Joe sighed in frustration. A hot shower would clear his head, he hoped, heading for their bedroom.

Twenty minutes after he had stormed out, Nicky was coming around to the realization that this had been a profoundly stupid idea. Moments after leaving the house, he had realized that he’d left the car keys behind. Foolishly, he’d boarded a bus for downtown, too irked to return home. Now, with the bus routes closed for the night and taxis staying off the road as snow clouds threatened the city, Nicky quietly admitted to himself that he was stranded.

The first weak snowflakes began to fall. Then the wind picked up, blowing several icy droplets into his face. Nicky shivered. Fuck this, he thought, pulling out his phone. His pride wasn’t worth causing Joe to worry, and it definitely wasn’t worth getting sick from the cold and creating loads of extra work for his husband. He was going to call Joe, apologize profusely, and beg him to come pick him up.

At their home, Joe let the steaming water soak through to his tired bones as he scrawled passionately on the shower walls. He was a little hurt and, if he was being honest, more than a little worried. But for once Nicky wasn’t here for him to talk to, so he threw his words at the wall in brightly colored crayon instead.

He almost didn’t hear his cell phone ring. Contorting his upper body out of the shower, he wiped his hands on his towel and reached around for the phone in his pants’ pocket. The called ID flashed his husband’s name. Joe picked up without hesitation.

“Hello?”

“Joe, I fucked up. I’m s- so sorry. I should never- never have spoken to you like that, h- hayati. Please- please forgive me.”

Over the line, Joe could hear Nicky’s teeth chattering as he struggled to get the words out. Joe shut the water off and clambered out of the shower.

“Nicky, what happened? Where are you? Are you okay?”

“I’m f- fine. It’s just cold.”

“Come home. Please.”

“Yeah, that’s- that’s the problem. I took the bus here. The c- car keys…”

Joe had put the phone on speaker and was already getting dressed. He shouldered into a coat and seized a large throw from their bed, striding into the living room.

“I’m coming. Where are you?”

“Uh, Mira Mesa Transit Station. S- sorry, kind of far.”

“Nowhere in the universe is too far.”

“Joe-”

“Just sit tight, I’m on my way.”

Joe drove like a madman. Luckily, no one else was insane enough to be out in this imminent blizzard, so at least the roads were clear. In just under ten minutes, he reached the station.

A figure sat huddled under the overhang. Joe barely managed to stop the car before jumping out.

“Nicoló!”

Nicky struggled to his feet. “Joe, grazie a dio-”

“Shhh, amore mio, I’ve got you,” Joe soothed, pulling a shivering Nicky towards the car and bundling him into the passenger’s seat. Once he'd climbed in himself, Joe turned up the heater and divested Nicky of his too-thin, snow-soaked windbreaker. “Wear this,” he coaxed, whipping his own dry jacket off and wrapping it around Nicky’s shoulders.

“No, hayati-”

“Shh, love, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

Joe wrapped the throw over the jacket, dusting the snow from Nicky's collar and tucking the blanket in. The whole way back, he drove with one hand on the wheel, intertwining the other with Nicky’s and rubbing his knuckles to warm him up.

“Shower,” Joe decided as soon as they stepped into their home. “You’re so cold, my heart. Go stand under warm water until you can feel your toes and fingers again. I’m going to make us some hot soup, okay?” Joe leaned forward and kissed Nicky’s nose gently.

Nicky nodded, too cold and tired to insist on helping. He had an inkling sense that Joe might still be irritated with him, after all. It would not be undeserved.

He made his way to their bedroom, draping Joe’s jacket over a bedpost and discarding his own clothes as he stepped into shower. Exhaling deeply, he turned his back to the stream of hot water- and froze.

A red bath crayon lay fallen on the floor, clearly left behind in haste. Joe must have been showering when I called, Nicky thought with a pang of guilt. But what had caught his attention was the shower wall in front of him. There, written in his beloved husband’s flowy cursive, was a poem.

If I could only read your heart When your lips cannot translate I wouldn’t let it break, my love Yet if it does Take mine An eternity alone I’ll wait.

The warm water poured down Nicky’s back, relaxing his aching muscles even as tears sprung into his eyes at Joe’s tender, longing words. Nicky stared and stared until the steam blurred the writing beyond perception.

A knock at the bathroom door snapped him out of his reverie.

“Nicky? Are you alright? Almost done?”

Nicky cleared his throat. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

He shut off the water and dried off. He found the bedroom empty, and slipped into the pajamas and fluffy sweatshirt that Joe must have laid out for him earlier. Dry and warm and very cozy, Nicky felt his eyes well up again at the care Joe put into something as minor as picking out some clothes.

Even during their worst fights, Nicky never doubted their love for each other; their hearts had been one far too long for any such lingering uncertainties. But it never ceased to amaze him how quickly Joe forgave. How despite taking Nicky’s hurtful words to heart, Joe went above and beyond to make sure he didn’t suffer.

He took a deep breath to regain his composure, and walked out. But the moment he entered the kitchen, the fragrance of creamy red pepper tomato bisque reached his nose, and he very nearly broke down in tears again. His favorite soup. It was a recipe he and Joe had perfected together through the years. Watching Joe quietly ladle it into two bowls, Nicky felt something clench in his chest.

“Hayati.”

Joe spun around. “Nicky! Are you feeling better, my heart?”

“I am.”

“Oh, good. Are you, uh…” Joe’s eyes flickered to the floor. “Are you still angry with me about the garlic thing?”

Nicky crossed the distance between them in two strides and threw himself into his husband’s arms. Joe stumbled back, a little startled, but quickly pulled Nicky close and buried his face in Nicky’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Nicky.”

“No. No, Yusuf, please. You did nothing wrong. It is I who should beg your forgiveness, having treated you as I did. You've shown me nothing but kindness, and I’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

Joe shook his head in protest, nuzzling his nose into Nicky’s neck.

“I saw what you wrote in the shower,” he continued. Joe stilled in his arms. “I- I don’t know if you meant for me to see, but…”

“I forgot to erase it. But everything I write is for you, Nicolò. It’s yours.”

“It was beautiful. Beautiful, and heartbreaking. Forgive me, my all. Forgive me for raising my voice at you, for making you feel alone. Forgive me for walking away insteading of talking to you. And forgive me for dragging you out into that storm at this hour to come searching for me, it was beyond cruel to make you drive so far-”

Joe pulled back, eyes round with tears, and gently pressed his palm to Nicky’s lips.

“Stop it. Please. Don’t apologize for calling me when you needed me. Where would I rather be than at your side? I meant it, earlier. Nowhere in the universe is too far.”

Nicky held Joe’s hand to his lips and kissed his palm. A tear slipped down Joe’s cheek as he swallowed a sob. Nicky wrapped a hand behind his neck and rubbed soothing circles into the tense muscles there. After a few minutes, Joe's breathing evened out, and he lifted his eyes to gaze at Nicky with unguarded adoration. It would be so easy to just let this go, Nicky thought. But the knowledge that he had hurt Joe stood like a wall of glass between them, and Nicky felt it would drive him mad.

“Joe, I- I need to hear you say it. If you forgive me, that is. I don’t know, tonight has just been a lot. Please, hayati, I-”

“You are forgiven. You are always forgiven.”

Nicky exhaled, feeling the glass wall shatter. He kissed Joe’s temple softly. “Thank you, my love.”

Joe tilted his head slowly, dragging his lips up Nicky’s jaw until he could capture his mouth in a melting kiss. Nicky responded with ardent devotion, backing Joe up against the refrigerator and holding him there as they kissed again and again. It was only when he grew light-headed from lack of oxygen that Nicky pulled back. Still, Joe whimpered at the loss of warmth, reaching out for his husband.

“Nicky…”

“Joe, you have no idea how much I want to stand here kissing you all night. But you’ve prepared this wonderful dinner. I’d hate for it to get cold.”

Joe laughed, a joyous thing that swept Nicky off his feet just like it had the very first time he'd heard it.

“Alright, let’s eat. But after dinner we’ll cuddle on the couch under the heated blanket and I’ll hold you to your promise.”

Nicky smiled fondly, unable to help leaning in and placing one more kiss at the corner of his beloved’s lips. “Please do.”

#the old guard #joe x nicky #kaysanova #fluff #fanfiction #tog fanfic #kavi writes #I love feedback feel free to drop a note!#hurt/comfort without the hurt #so yeah just comfort mostly #hot chocolate #comfort food #blankets #yes this is how I'm handling the sudden transition to cold weather #author: is a grown ass adult #also author: makes *heart eyes* at bath crayons #all my ideas happen in the shower what can I do

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searchingforenadi · 4 years

Text

bleeding on the floor is a safety hazard

can i interest you in a secondPOV!OC, KHR fic in these trying times?

i woke up in the middle of the night and vomited this out - i have never been so terrified of my own lack of brain cells.

a brief summary: Your customers won’t stop bleeding in your shop. You realize this might be a problem. (second person!OC, TYL).

You try your best not to stare at the knife in the man’s side.

“Um,” you say, passing over the packaged box of cake. “Here you go.”

He smiles brightly and hands you several bills. There is a sword strapped to his back and you are terrified to even allow the thought that he might be foreign. “Thanks! Keep the change.”

You nod minutely. Then, the actual number of those bills catches up to you like a freight train off the rails. “Wait - ”

But it’s too late - the man, the cake, and his accompanying knife are gone. You look down to find that he’s left behind a puddle of blood.

You breathe in deeply, count to ten, count backwards from ten, and march back to the kitchens to grab some towels and soap.

The cake had been paid twice over - you’ll take a little bit of blood for that any day.

ii.

It’s hard to imagine that something as exciting as a bleeding man would eventually fade into your memories, but that’s exactly what happens.

A week goes by and you’re hauling over a new delivery of flour. It’s tough work but you’ve done this for years - eventually, the shop’s ready for another day.

You reach the front entrance. And stop.

The same man from last week, Knife Man, waves through the glass door. He has a new companion - not a knife - who scowls under a crown of silver hair.

You consider taking the day off.

But no, your bills won’t pay themselves, and if they pay as well as last time, you might even be able to buy a new electric mixer.

Decision made, you flip over the sign and open the door.

“Hi again,” Knife Man says, a smile still on his face. “Sorry about last time.”

“That’s okay,” you say politely, because returning customers are golden. Your regulars are your saving grace. “Nice to see you again.”

“Same to you,” he says, tugging his friend over to the counter. His fingers trail eagerly over the sweets on display as he turns to the man. “Come on, pick one!”

You move behind the register and wait patiently.

“I don’t like sweets!” Knife Man’s friend snaps. “I can’t believe I’m stuck with you today.”

Ever the business owner, you pipe in, “We also have drinks, if that’s more to your taste.”

That gets the man’s attention.

“I’ll just have a coffee then,” he grumbles, fishing out his wallet.

Knife Man joins his friend and grins. “Then I’ll have a slice of tiramisu.”

“This early in the morning?” Knife Man’s friend hisses.

Pointedly avoiding any conversational traps, you say, “Coffee and tiramisu. Together?”

The friend huffs. “Sure, fine. Here, keep the change. For the idiot’s blood.”

You blink at the money shoved into your face. If you had been any other person, you might protest at the clear extortion - it’s just blood.

But you had been raised pragmatically and so, with a smile, you accept the bills.

“Please wait a moment,” you tell them, and get started on the coffee.

In a few minutes, you pack the cake neatly into a little box and hand it over with a cup of espresso.

“Thanks,” Knife Man’s friend grumbles, taking a sip of his drink before glancing back down at the cup. “Huh.”

You don’t challenge any strange noises made over your products, you remind yourself, and smile pleasantly instead.

They leave quickly after, with Knife Man waving once again, and you release a sigh.

“Electric mixer, electric mixer,” you hum, sweeping the floor with a broom. “So very soon, electric mixer - ”

iii.

A few days later, the front door opens and, lo and behold, it’s Knife Man’s friend, silver hair tied behind his head.

You smile in greeting and ponder the possibility that you just might be cursed.

“Two coffees,” he says, with nary a greeting.

You’ve met worse, so you take the money handed to you and make quick work of the order.

It’s clear he’s not interested in making any small talk and, if you’re honest, you’re not really eager to start any yourself.

Soon enough, you hand over two steaming cups over the counter.

“Thanks,” the man says, proving that he’s not yet a lost cause. Under his breath, he mutters, “That damn machine better be fixed by now.”

Technological difficulties - you can sympathize. You wave off the man and get started on your next order.

iv.

You don’t encounter any issues involving blood until a month later, after several more visits from your strangest regulars.

“The usual,” Knife Man says brightly, seemingly oblivious to the cut above his eye and the blood trickling down his face.

Knife Man’s friend casually tucks his clearly burned fingers into his sleeves. “The same for me.”

There is a moment of silence.

How, you wonder, is he going to carry his coffee with burned fingers? You know how that feels. Intimately, in fact - you’re a baker.

But that’s none of your business and so, very politely, you accept the money - stained with suspicious black dots - before getting started on the order.

You hand over the food and coffee and say, “Here you are.”

“Thank you,” Knife Man says, gingerly accepting both the cake and coffee. He stops for a moment before studying you curiously. He smiles broadly. “I’m Yamamoto, by the way. And this is Gokudera!”

Japanese names, you note, even as the newly named Gokudera barks at the man.

“ - the hell are you thinking, you idiot?”

Yamamoto shrugs, somehow unhindered by the food, coffee, sword and blood on his face. “I think we’ve been here often enough.”

You very clearly ignore the incredibly suspicious conversation continuing on before you.

“Good to know,” you say instead, because as nice as it is, having bleeding customers is not the best reputation for any business. “I’ll see you next time, Yamamoto, Gokudera.”

“Same here,” Yamamoto says - his Italian is impeccable, you notice.

Gokudera grunts, eyes boring into you suspiciously.

“You say our names very naturally,” he says slowly, eyes narrowing.

You can’t tell if that’s a compliment or a threat.

“I’m half?” you offer, not sure why it should matter. “I’m not fluent though.”

Yamamoto looks incredibly pleased. “Wow! That makes a lot of sense.”

You… still can’t tell if that’s a compliment or a threat.

“Thanks,” you say, because what else can you say? Your mom’s genes are strong in your veins, so it’s not really surprising.

They leave not long after, Yamamoto calling out goodbye and Gokudera squinting right at you.

You lean over the counter and check the floor, just in case. It’s nearly safe, until you notice several specks of blood all over the counter itself.

“... damn.”

One morning, Yamamato enters the shop with a new companion.

“Hey!” he greets, the early hour not bothering him in the slightest.

It’s suspicious because at this point, you are very aware that Yamamoto does not drink any sort of caffeine.

Very suspicious, you think, staring almost enviously at his non-existent dark circles.

His friend, however, seems appropriately more miserable.

“One cappuccino, please,” the man says, chestnut hair all over the place. His hazel eyes droop slightly.

You smile in sympathy. “Got it.”

“Oh, also,” Yamamoto pipes in, leaning onto the counter. “We’ll be staying here for a while - that okay?”

You blink at the change.

“Sure,” you say, gesturing to the few seating arrangements you have. “Make yourselves comfortable.”

You cut up a larger slice of tiramisu and set it on a plate. As the milk boils, you wonder what’s so different now - Yamamoto always orders to-go.

Pouring the foam over a cup of espresso, you decide it’s none of your business. You didn’t build up your customer base by being nosy.

“Here,” you say, sliding over the cake first. Yamamoto grins in thanks. “And the cappuccino…?”

You watch as Yamamoto’s friend stares blankly into the distance.

“Um,” You say. You look back at Yamamoto. “Is he okay?”

Yamamoto lets out a long laugh.

“He’s fine,” he says, waving a hand. “We just had a long night. Hey, Tsuna. Tsuna!”

The aforementioned Tsuna startles, dark eyes blinking rapidly. “Wha - ?”

You wait patiently as he looks blearily up at you. Raising the drink in your hands, you try again. “Your cappuccino?”

Face flushing slightly, Tsuna moves to grab the drink. “Right! Sorry about that.”

“That’s okay,” you start to say, about to let the cup go, but something slips along Tsuna’s grip.

You catch the cup right as it's about to tilt.

“Careful there,” you say wryly, deciding to skip the dangerous part and setting down the cup on the table. Patiently, you tell him, “It’s hot.”

For some reason, Tsuna’s face darkens even further. “O-Okay, sorry.”

“Not a problem,” you say, shrugging because a missed accident is as good as no accident. “Enjoy your stay.”

They stay for another half hour before departing, and you wave back when Yamamoto says goodbye. Appearing more awake than before, Tsuna gives a half-hearted wave as well.

All in a day’s work, you think, cleaning down their table and moving on to help another customer.

vi.

Two weeks later, Yamamoto’s friend, Tsuna, walks in with the look of someone ready to jump the bridge at any moment’s notice.

Yikes, you think, and put on your best customer smile. “Can I help you?”

The frazzled look in his eyes does not go away.

“I need a drink?” he asks, which is not the strangest way someone has ordered from your shop, but it’s still pretty up there. Rubbing his eyes, he tries again. “Sorry - usually Hayato’s the one to grab them. He never told me the name.”

“Hayato?” you ask, already filing through the people Tsuna might know (it’s a short list, you only have two regulars that dress in suits like those).

Tsuna groans into his hands. “Right. His last name is Gokudera?”

“Ah,” you say, already getting started on the coffee. You try to offer some help. “It’s usually just coffee. Nothing special.”

And just like that, Tsuna’s face transforms from someone wanting to die into someone wanting to die.

It’s not polite to laugh at your customers, you remind yourself, turning back to the coffee. You swallow the bark of laughter in your throat.

By the time you face him again, your face is at its most polite.

“Just one, right?” you ask, ever the professional. Remembering last time, you very carefully pass over the drink.

Tsuna nods silently and slides over some cash.

“Thanks,” he says, before practically flying out the shop.

The moment the door closes shut, you crouch down and let out a loud ha!

Then, you stand up, features settled back to normal, and pocket the cash into the register.

-o-o-o-o-o-

the terrifying part is that there is more to this and it’s not stopping. i imagine MC can be any gender you see them as for now, with a nice amount of respect for local authorities and common sense, and perhaps a dash of great customer service.

this began as an attempt to write some sort of romantic Tsuna/OC fic - which is as big of a joke as I am, because it’s clear MC is too pragmatic for anything like that. at this point, anything is up for grabs.

#why do i even bother #i am so bad at outright romance #when will the day come #katekyo hitman reborn #sawada tsunayoshi #yamamoto takeshi #gokudera hayato #tsuna #fanfic #searchingforenadi #enjoy this subpar late night fic

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bnhababyyyy · 5 years

Text

Bro’s before that kinda bro

Part 2/?

5k words!!!! I did it!!!!😭

Synopsis: Day 2 of trying to woo your best friend over.

That morning you woke up to the sound of your blaring alarm. Your head began to pound as you slowly lifted your head from the unfinished work on your desk.

The clock read 8:05.

You felt a year of life leave your body.

You had exactly 20 minutes to get dressed and run to class.

You couldn’t tell if your migraine was caused by that suspicious energy drink or all your feelings for todoroki slapping you in the face last night.

Shaking your head you decided to forget about it and ask Mina where she got the drink later. Groaning you rushed as quickly as your head would allow you to move and put on your uniform. You multitasked brushing your teeth and packing your bag at the same time. Trying to at least make sure you had your bare essentials for class.

You did what you could with your hair to make it seem as though you ‘tried’. Nearly tripped over yourself as you struggled with your shoes. Then gave the room a quick once over before nodding and running out the room with only 10 minutes to spare.

The throbbing in your head only got worse as you ran to class. You could barely even see where you were going. The sun’s brightness burned against your eyes, people’s talking volumes rattled against your ear drums, and you were moving way too fast to keep up with any of it. You were just a mess today!

You bumped into a few poles and people, apologizing to both the inanimate and animate objects. Shoved yourself through a few groups of people and then finally! Reached your first period classroom. You slipped into the class with a group of your classmates and ran to your seat right as the minute bell rang.

You groaned laying your head on the desk trying to get in as much sleep as you possibly could. To think spending a fun time with Todoroki would somehow lead into this kind of a morning.

As soon as you closed your eyes you felt a light tap on your shoulder. You heavily lifted your head just to see it was the man putting you through this himself.

“Ah sorry (y/l/n) did I interrupt your sleeping?”

You lifted yourself up holding back groans of pain so he wouldn’t worry about you. “No, no! It’s fine! I wasn’t going to be able to sleep anyways.”

He smiled, “Good, I just wanted to apologize for sleeping when we were on the call last night.” He looked over at the clock to see how many seconds he had left “I really did want to stay up with you.”

“Oh don’t feel sorry about it! I’m the one who asked if we could do homework together anyways. I mean, that’s all I really wanted to do with you Todoroki,” You reassured.

He made a deep in thought facial expression as he looked at the floor. His mouth opened trying to say something that just wasn’t coming out. Even when he was using every brain cell to think you still found this lovable idiot the cutest guy in the room.

“I also wanted to talk to you about how-” The bell then rang and all the other students began finishing their conversations and walking back to their seats. You sat there shocked at how he wasn’t going to be able to finish. Todoroki however still stood there looking like he was debating on whether he should leave the conversation for later or finish it up now.

You sighed deciding to deal with the possibly serious question he had for a later time. “Don’t worry, we can just talk about this another time.”

He glanced at you for a moment then nodded walking back to his seat. Aizawa finally rolled into class and gave all of you the dreaded test. A few other students let out sounds of unhappiness as it was passed out.

You took a deep breath, steering your thoughts away from what it was he may have been trying to ask. Your vision kept going in and out as you tried so desperately to answer the first problem. You gave yourself a few face slaps every so often along with mental encouragement to just try and get through the first page without blacking out.

The test went by painfully slow but you were able to finish it. You somehow made it out alive without feeling alive. The rest of the day went something like that. Training made your head throb and all the other classes got you scolded at for drooping your head or falling asleep in class.

You just couldn’t wait to go back to the dorms. Maybe you could get a few ibuprofen from the girls before bed. You sneakily pulled out your phone during the boring lecture to text the girls.

You sat looking at the new message that popped up on your home screen at a complete loss for words. You couldn’t ditch them for him. It’s always Bro’s before… that kinda bro.

Your head began to throb and you massaged your forehead completely unsure of what to do. Why and how did this man do this to you! By a mere text!

After 10 minutes on debating what to do you decided on having Todoroki meet you in the nurses/ recovery girl room. You got up and quietly asked the teacher if you could leave, explaining your situation. The teacher reluctantly gave you a slip allowing you to leave the class. You quickly left the class and texted Todoroki where to meet you.

You decided to just walk into the recovery room, and ask for some actual treatment. Only to find a note on her desk that said ‘taking an early lunch break take whatever medication you need ^3^’

You felt a smile come over your face at the cute note she left for everyone. She sure did trust you guys. You decided to kill time and snoop around the room while waiting for him. Eventually the moving around got the best of you and your brain started to send some painful messages your way. You decided to try to sit down.

He came in a few minutes later, slowly closing the door behind him and figuring out that recovery girl wasn’t here either. He didn’t seem to notice you at all. You cleared your throat to try and grab his attention. He turned around trying to see where the noise came from. Once he saw you he put the note down and began walking over to you.

“Hey are you alright?” He asked.

“Yeah I’m fine. I was going to ask her to help me with my headache though,” you winced, not able to cover the blaring waves of pain anymore.

He gave you a concerned look before reaching over touching your forehead. “You don’t have a fever. Did you hurt yourself training?”

You could barely breathe. He was too close. He only got this close to your face in your dreams. You were inches away from kissing him. Did he not notice or think about how much of a hazard it was for him to be in kissing range??? The way he held your eyes with so much concern made it harder to resist.

The both of you stared at each other for a little too long. You decided to move your head away from him to avoid any spur of the moment decisions. You did not need another reason for a headache.

“Uhm wow ok. No-no I uhm.” you cleared your throat shifting away from his hand. “I’m fine! I’m fine. Let’s talk about what you texted me for though.”

Todoroki had a frustrated expression on his face. “Why do you say you’re fine when you’re not? We can talk about it tomorrow.” He looked up at you. “Do you mind if I touch you?”

“Woah! What!?”

You were in absolute shock. You truly didn’t know how to react! He couldn’t be so dense that he didn’t know the possible misinterpretation those words could give.

“Wow well I- I’m not sure I just. I don’t know if that’s- I What do you mean by-”

“I just feel like I somehow caused this. You wouldn’t be feeling like this by yourself if I had just stayed awake with you last night.”

You blinked confusion slowly replacing your embarrassment.

“Wait, what do you mean? Todo I thought I told you this morning. It’s not your fault.” You grabbed one of his hands. “I’m the one who kept you up. You don’t have to go out of your way for me when I owe you something.”

He was looking down at your hands. He shook his head still unconvinced by your words. He could be so stubborn sometimes.

“Please scoot over (y/l/n) I still want to pay you back.”

You shot a glare his way. He was not going to win this argument. “No Todoroki I accept your apology. So I’m going to pay you back next.”

“Then this is payment for listening to me about my nightmare,” He tested.

You held his stare, “You already paid me back when you stayed up with me! Just call a truce!”

His mind didn’t look like it would change any time soon, “Then you can just pay me back for this.”

“Wait what are you-”

You gasped when you felt two hands grab your waist as he shifted you over. You were now sitting away from your original side. With Todoroki now lifting himself up to sit in that same place. You two were both sitting up with your backs to the head board. You didn’t know whether to be mad you’d have to double pay him back. Or embarrassed at the fact he just touched your waist.

This man was definitely trying to kill you.

“Just lay your head on my lap.”

You flipped your head towards him a little too fast. “What! I’m not doing that. That’s- Thats just way too awkward.”

He cast a confused look that said he truly didn’t see anything wrong with what he asked. You rubbed your forehead in slight frustration. He made his typical thinking face when he was trying to figure something out.

“I mean what are you even trying to do anyways?” You asked.

He glanced over at you, then that ‘I’ve got it’ face came through. Ignoring your question he leaned over to push you forward to the end of the bed. You felt as he shuffled behind you. He didn’t even give you a chance to protest given he was already throwing his other leg behind you and holding your waist.

You were basically sitting.

In.

His

Lap.

And you still didn’t know what he was trying to do!!!! You felt as if your head was steaming and that you would faint at any more touching. Your back laid against his chest! His chest against your back! You didn’t know whether your head or your heart would pop first.

“I’m just going to get rid of the headache, ok?”

You stiffly nodded. Barely able to breathe, much less make a sound.

“It’d probably be better if you closed your eyes,” He said leaning over to try and look you in the eye.

You averted his eyes and looked at your lap. Taking in a shaky sigh. You closed your eyes. Still feeling just as stiff though.

He didn’t do anything for a moment. You desperately wanted to take a peek at him. That opportunity was cut short when you felt a warm hand go onto your temple.

You stiffened when you felt his other hand go to the same place on the other side. He didn’t activate the cool side. It felt like a regular hand temperature. You assumed it was probably a good thing he didn’t do that.

He began to massage very slowly and gently, probably to make sure he didn’t hurt you at all. The hands mostly rolled in circles over those parts for a while. He didn’t start to move his hands until you physically relaxed underneath him.

He began to slowly shift over to rubbing your forehead.You decided to just relax your body against his chest. Letting your shoulders down and body unstiffen. You happily sighed.

The heat from his hand really helped clear some pain out of the way. You just felt so happy in his arms. He then started to slide his hands down to your neck and shoulders.

You tried your best to adjust to the new placement. Controlling your breathing and thoughts. Relaxing until you began losing consciousness.

When you eventually woke up you didn’t feel any hands on your head or neck. You turned around to see that Todoroki was still sitting up behind you, just totally unconscious. You internally squealed at the sight behind you. He had such a cute sleeping face.

You didn’t want to wake him up from his wonderful sleep. He looked more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him before. You quickly looked through your pockets to find your phone. You had exactly 5 minutes before lunch.

The teacher was going to get on you for it you were sure. Your soon realized your head felt clear and in no pain at all. You turned around to look at him again. You already missed most of class…. you might as well let him sleep until lunch.

You nodded checking to see if your bag was with you still. Todoroki brought his bag too, so you guys wouldn’t have to worry about going back to class for it. You decided to text baku squad what happened until the bell rang.

You didn’t know what you should do. On one note it's kind of creepy. On another note, you don’t have any photos with you two hanging out together. You looked behind you to see that he was still asleep. This is what friends do though right? Take photos of each other…….?

You took plenty of photos of Mina and Momo when they weren’t paying attention! They also did the same back to you. So maybe this could be a new step in your friendship? You’d send the photos to him later obviously.

You shook your head clearing your mind of all your worries. It’d be fine! It’s not like he would leave you or something. His friends did it to him and posted it on Twitter all the time!

You took in a breath and positioned the phone into a selfie. You adjusted the camera until both you and Todoroki were in the frame. You flashed a smile and then took the photo. Boom! Done! You looked at the photo astonished you had the courage to even do it. It was actually a kind of cute photo.

You quickly sent it to the group chat and waited for them to respond. Your shuffling and moving about must have woken him up because you felt him shift behind you.

“Hey, did you sleep well?” You asked, turning over to look at him.

He rubbed his eyes and nodded like a child. “Did you?”

“Yeah thank you for helping me out. I appreciate it,”

“It would have been easier if you just let me help in the first place,” he lectured.

You rolled your eyes at him and shifted out of his lap. You stood up and began to stretch out. Trying to crack any joints that felt stiff. Todoroki continued to sit on the bed while checking the time.

“Oh I didn’t mean to sleep that long.”

You shrugged “It doesn’t matter, we can just tell them we felt too sick to come back or something.”

“Oh hey!” You looked up at him. “My head doesn’t hurt anymore. You think you can tell me about that thing you wanted to talk about this morning?”

He looked at you a little shocked you remembered. “Oh. Right.” He paused.

“I wanted to ask if we could-” he was interrupted once again. This time by Recovery girl opening the door and the bell ringing at the same time. You stood there shocked, that once again the question would be held for another time.

He closed his mouth into a thin line. Obviously annoyed by getting interrupted as well. You sighed, shaking your head.

“Ok, we can talk about this later then.” You laughed.

He nodded in response and began to walk out the room. Recovery girl gave you a wink “You don’t have to tell me what happened.”

Your mouth dropped “No! No! Nothing weird was happening we were just-”

She laughed and waved you off.

You walked over to the lunch room completely embarrassed. Once you got your food you spotted Mina waving to you and you smiled walking over to where she and the other girls sat.

“That photo was so cute! I can’t believe you don’t have any other photos of him!” Mina squealed as you sat down.

You held a finger to her mouth trying to get her to be a little less loud. “Yeah, it’s not that big of a deal though! He only sees me as a friend so it has no romantic meaning!”

She rolled her eyes. Giving you an “uh huh”. Ochaco leaned over to join in on the conversation.

“I can’t believe you haven’t confessed yet (y/n)! You’ve had a crush on him forever!” She said.

“Ochaco you're the last person I’d expect to tell me that.” You gestured your thumb towards Midoriya. “You still haven’t even confessed your feelings for him!”

Her face almost immediately flushed pink and she slowly began to levitate. Mina held on to her arm and tried to pull her back to earth. You giggled and pinched Ochaco’s flushed cheek.

“Oh I wish I had someone to crush on. You guys are just so lucky! Teenage romance is just such a fun part of life!” Momo said dreamily, laying her head on her cheek.

Jiro rolled her eyes, “you guys are so freakin’ sappy.”

You all continued to laugh and talk about boys. Once the conversations ended you guys listened to and shared other songs you enjoyed. You all of course listened to some classical music shared by Momo as well. The lunch bell soon rang and you all walked to your classes happily. Everything that happened in the nursing room soon left your mind.

You were able to finish the day up with much more ease than you began it with. At the end of the day you walked with Momo and Ochaco to your dorms. Not wanting to repeat the same mistake you made yesterday, you began working on your homework so you could get to sleep early.

You had turned off your phone so you could put all your attention to the homework at hand. You made an oath to yourself to start paying attention in class. You had been working for a few hours, taking breaks in between until you heard your ringtone go off.

You curiously picked up your phone to see who could be calling at this hour. Who else could it have possibly been other than Shoto Todoroki himself. You mentally prepared yourself so that you could talk to him. Taking a deep breath you pressed the answer button. It took a second for his screen to show up.

“Hi todo!” You smiled.

His face wasn’t on the screen yet, all you saw was the ceiling of his room. He started to shift his camera again and he rested it on top of an object that helped make his phone stand. You saw his head and torso again like the day before.

“Hey, do you still feel better?” He asked.

You nodded. You decided to rest your phone the same way he did.

“Yeah thanks again for helping me out. But what’s up?”

He seemed to be doing his homework as well. His desk looked so organized as it had his book and homework side by side.

“I wanted to check up and make sure you were ok.”

You quirked a brow, “That’s it? You could have just texted me.”

He gave an annoyed look, “I didn’t want to. Just appreciate how I’m checking up on you.”

You rolled your eyes. He was being so sassy.“Mhm well if that’s all you called me for I’m going to go. Goodnight!”

“No wait hold on. I called for something else too.”

“Oh what no way!” You fake gasped.

He shot a non serious glare your way. “I wanted to ask you the question. The one I tried asking this morning.”

You had totally forgotten about it! You got excited all of a sudden really wanting to know the information that had gotten interrupted so many times. What could he possibly ask? Would he surprise you and ask you out? Go on a date?! Ask you for your hand in marriage??? Ask for the homework…….

You gloomed at the thought of him really asking the last question. It was probably the most realistic thing that would come out of his mouth.

“Well since we're best friends now….” he looked away a little embarrassed. “No nevermind. That’s probably inappropriate.”

You were going to die. He was dragging this on way too long. No way we’re you going to let this man lead you on. You would rather die than not hear what he wanted to ask!

“No, tell me! I really want to know cmon Todo! Since we are best friends I can’t judge you for anything you say! You can’t judge me either though.”

He glanced at you, then went into his thinking face. Wow was this really that big of a deal for him?

Then he finally spoke.

“Ok. I wanted to know if we should call each other on a first name basis? Since were best friends?” He asked with the most serious face.

You felt shocked! This wasn’t that big of a deal to you until now. You never thought that you would get this far in your friendship with him. You could finally feel a few emotions kick in, all happy of course. The fact he valued your new stage of friendship so much really made you swoon. This was such a big deal.

“Oh my god! No, yeah definitely! That’s fine- I mean really great! Let’s do that.” You felt so giddy and couldn’t hold your smile back. This was such a huge step!

He gave a light smile, almost reassured at your response. “Good.” He sighed, leaning back into his seat.

You couldn’t help but continue to smile, “I didn’t know that stressed you out so much. You know I wouldn’t judge you right?”

“Yes, I know. I didn’t want to make this weird though.”

You both sat there in silence. Beginning to start homework when a thought had popped into your head.

“Ok but who’s going to say it first?”

He furrowed his eyebrows for what seemed like the 100th time that day. “Say what first?” He asked looking up from his homework.

You shook your head, “Who’s going to say the first name first!”

“Oh I’m sure it’ll be you.”

You felt taken aback, he had so much confidence in that. You blinked a few times as he went back to his homework.

“Aha, no no I think you will be the one to say my name first.”

He shook his head “I’m not guessing this, I know how you are. You’re going to say it by accident.”

You picked up the phone, now starting to really get into this heated debate. “That is such a lie! What proof do you have to support this?”

He playfully scoffed “I don’t have any on me at the moment but I just know you’ll say it first.”

“Okay. Ok. You wanna bet on it then?” You grinned.

“Depends, what are you trying to bet?”

You looked around trying to rack your brain for something interesting, “How about something like…. if you lose you have to cook for me. If I lose I cook for you.”

He looked like he was seriously thinking about this. “Do you know how to make soba?”

You shrugged, “I can ask someone for a recipe.”

He then nodded, “Ok, I’ll do it.” You laughed at how quickly responsed.

“But that doesn’t mean I’ll lose! You might not get those noodles!” You exclaimed.

He rolled his eyes, “Sure I won’t.”

He was just so sassy. You rolled your eyes back at him. Putting your phone back to continue your homework.

The night continued with you asking him questions about some of the homework and him helping you with it. You two mostly sat in silence trying to really focus on the loads of homework given to your class. You really did enjoy sitting in silence with him. The silence more so comforted you than it did make you feel awkward. You two had such a fantastic relationship. The only thing missing was the. You know. Dating part.

You truly didn’t know when or how you’d confess to him. But for right now this was fine.

You started to yawn and decided to tell him you were going to go to sleep. When you looked up however you saw that Todoroki had fallen asleep once again the same way he did last night. Was this a coincidence or was he going to be doing this continuously?

You sighed at how cute he looked and hovered over the end call button “Goodnight Todo.” You ended the call and gleamed at the sight in front of you. Hopefully this would be a continuous thing.

Tag list—— @mrsreina @mysterypotatoink @eternal-fangirling

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#todorki x reader #shoto torodoki #bnha #bnha x reader #shoto trodoroki x you #bros before the other bro #bnha fanfiction #x reader #fanfcition #bnha texting fanfiction

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pyrewriter · 3 years

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Back to the Front Part 2

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The early hours of the night were quiet with only the sound of our movements and the wind surrounding us. Any that could walk were put to work moving the wounded while those with superficial injuries ,Brykis and I included, were on dig duty. As Barron Pyrrhaks had taken charge of the Eliksni left behind to protect and guide them through the trial before them. This was his duty to take in the absence of our Arkon but regardless of father’s station I believe him more than worthy.

It took longer than father wanted for the digging to complete and noncombatants being moved into the rusted hull of an aircraft. Most of our spare Ether was used to stabilize the wounded or fed to those that had over exerted and collapsed, the latter of which joined the effort once able. No time could be spent resting our aching hands however as everyone that could shoot was told to grab their arms and take posts. "I stay with non-fighters, where you go?" Brykis asked me as he grabbed his weapons.

"Trench, with others, need capable fighters" I replied checking my own weapons, the shock pistol and rifle Erysa had gifted me as her final request. Loading fully charged arc cells I holstered my pistol and slung my rifle "Keep safe" I told my brother, placing a hand on his shoulder before we separated to head for our respective posts. Should the Risen ever push beyond our trench an extremely angry father would be right there to greet them so I doubted Brykis would see much action beyond a particularly stealthy Risen.

Dropping into the trench we had spent hours digging I hunkered down with the others, they were under my charge as per father's orders. "Wait, listen, let pass if can" I chittered with a hushed tone.

"What if fall inside" one dreg asked shakily, their head darted at every little sound the wind brought to his ears. I shuffled over to them while staying down and gently grabbed them by both shoulders to get them to calm, they looked into my eyes.

I gave them a light squeeze "Have advantage, we kill quiet, if found, fight" I said with an affirmed click. "Sit" I guided them down, placing their back against the cold dirt wall "Calm, fight when need, stay when don't. Scared, most would be, not weak, stay but be ready". The atmosphere in the trench that felt as though it would snap under the tension loosened as I spoke.

The dreg took a deep breath and held it for a moment "Thank you, understand, ready for command" they said letting out their breath. Standing I walked across from one end of the trench to the other placing a hand on everyone's shoulder while looking them in the eye to give an affirming nod that they would make it through. We were the first line, we had to be ready to take a face full of whatever they threw at us. Considering how everyone checked their equipment and hunkered down waiting for my call as I passed by each of them we were more than prepared. This trench would not be these Eliksni's grave.

It was my hope that there would be minimal contact from the Risen but my hopes were quickly quashed as it was a short wait for trouble to come. The sound of footsteps ,heavy and deliberate, along with the noxious smell of ozone carried by the downwind alerted us to Risen. Ozone meant they had high energy weapons or wielded the Great Machines blessing of Arc currents, possibly both from how potent the odor was. Unintelligible murmurs from 4 distinct voices followed the scent as they wandered closer, eventually coming into porper earshot.

"I thought there were supposed to be some easy prey out here, I need to blow of some steam after that stupid Crucible Match. Damn Trials farmers always putting me down before I can get close".

"Can it lead-for-brains, yer the one who got us 'spended from matches fer a week cause ya can't aim and wacked some poor lads ghost. And stop actin like Fallen are animals fer ya to put down on whim cause yer pissy".

"He's kind of right you know, the Fallen out here are pretty easy prey at night thanks to their lack of activity and they are a problem being this close to the City. By the way, you still haven't told us why you decided to join us on our little jaunt through these moth yards".

"...There are certain Eliksni who seem to be of greater importance to the group these salvage parties belong to. I had located and watched them for quite some time and they seemed to notice but not care about my presence. Their movements had stagnated for a time and I was ordered elsewhere ,then, today reports of extreme aggression from a trio lasting from dawn to dusk flooded the channels. I don't know about you but I do not believe this to be a simple coincidence so...here I am".

It was also evident that there was mild conflict between the Risen’s reason for hunting us but their end goal was the same: us becoming corpses. As quietly as possible I clicked to the others, "Keep low, no move" from what I understood they were looking for us but still didn't know where we were. But of course the world seemed to always be conspiring in one way or another and the Risen spotted a flicker of light from beyond the trench.

"Oi 'id any-yah see that just now" one said in a more hushed tone than before.

There was an odd sound, something similar to a gust of air as another spoke "looks like we found our quarry heheh". Another gust like sound was heard before ,like the belligerent fool their tone implied them to be, a Risen fell directly into our trench with a thud. Multiple Dregs and a Vandal pounced slitting their throat quietly and releasing the tiny machine, one of the dregs grabbed it trying to smother the soft blue it emits. Two...maybe four moments passed in dead silence, everyone in the trench myself included holding their breath.

"....Hey Numb Skull, you there" One of the Risen shouted, trying to call for the one that had dropped into our midst. Struggling hard the tiny machine broke free from the dreg that held it.

Flying up and out of the trench it's high-pitched voice shouted "FALLEN IN A TRENCH 20 YARDS AHEAD". After it's call I let out a war cry in anger at how soon they had discovered our position and the stupidity by which it was found. But if we could at least hold them at the trench we would not let them pass to slaughter fellow Eliksni that posed no threat. The cracks and flashes of weapons fire filled the otherwise calm night's air. All the commotion was surely signaling to every Risen in the area exactly where we were but such thoughts were far from my mind as we fought. Though younger Dregs ,most of whom this was their first mission, filled the trench on either side of me it was relieving to see such tenacity to protect our own

An energy bolt struck a dreg beside me in the head knocking them to the floor, cursing I threw an explosive and barked orders to concentrate fire on the larger Risen that was barreling toward us. My explosive knocked them off-kilter allowing the others to bring it down before it came into melee distance. Ducking into the trench I checked over the Dreg, there was no flash so there was still hope they were alive. Blinking at me while I looked them over they shook their head before standing once more and taking up their dropped weapon.Thankfully they survived with no real injury other than mild head pain and being shaken from a brush with the end but there was no time for reflection. Following their lead I rejoined the exchange of energy bolts and bullets, the exchange dragged on into a dead stalemate that lasted for hours with neither side giving in inch.

Weapons fire was nonstop through the night, our bodies ached from lack of rest, small wounds from glancing shots and explosion shrapnel sealed shut with dried blood. We had felled the Risen at least a dozen times with only minor casualties from injuries on our side but still held the disadvantage. Low on Ether and arc cells I made a judgement call "Throw everything!" I shouted, at my command all those in the trench ceased firing and lobbed all their explosives. As the detonations forced our enemy to hunker down I leaped from the Trench shock pistol drawn and dagger in hand. Charging them I howled in pain from my wounds tore open with the effort but dared not let it stop me.

Discharging what remained in my weapons arc cell with the special modification I disintegrated the first Risen stupid enough to pop it's head over cover. The drained cell ejected itself as I holstered the pistol without breaking stride, I was close enough to smell them through the haze of dust, weapon smoke, and ozone. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the Vandal from the trench wielding jagged scrap for weapons in each hand. My mind flashed back to the scene of Erysa and her final moments, "None Witness!!" I rasped as we reached the Risen. Armor saved them from falling immediately ,but they were surprised, our follow up dispatched each of them with a slash or caving their helms with a sufficiently large stone.

Standing over the bodies of the Risen I flinched as a beam of light shone in my eye triggering my instinct to drop low and slide out from line of sight. When I turned to face what I thought to be a sniper I realized it was the earliest rays of light from over the horizon peering through the holes in a wing rusted through. We had made it through the night, the fight was over, our job was done and I more than had my fill of excitement. Relaxing myself the pain along with fatigue from pushing my body from sunrise to moon-set began to set in all at once, I winced slightly. While I was basking in the light as it crept over the landscape the Vandal that joined my mad charge had returned to the trench to inform the others.

A short time later a Wretch I'd seen among the injured approached ,wrapped in bandages and using their spear as support, they came bearing good news. "First day crews coming, arrive soon, worse wounded, taken first" I nodded silently in acknowledgement. Looking around us at the husks of the Risen they spotted one of the little machines he let out a rasping click at the floating blue light. "Stop stare, Risen maker" they spat bitterly, raising their spear with intent to strike the machine...every Eliksni knew what happens when they are destroyed. The spear bore down on the small machine, it flinched in a vain attempt to shield itself using its outer shell like a youngling putting their hands in front of themselves to hide.

The blade stopped hardly an inch from the tiny machine's eye, my hand clasped firmly around the shaft of the Wretches weapon. "Battle done, let dead rest, if only a while" I chattered, a cold edge present in my tired voice.

Wrenching their weapon from my blood-slicked hand they clicked disparagingly "let Risen return, hunt Eliksni, sport, attack wounded". They turned and started toward the others to prepare for the first day crew's arrival. As they moved away I heard them spit under breath "Weak".

"Honor!" I shot back with a glare, my voice assertive and commanding of the respect of my station. Casting my gaze down I saw the diode eyes of each Risen's machine looking up at me from the small congregation around the one that had nearly been destroyed. Pivoting I turned away with a huffing sigh and half limp back to the others.

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#destiny #eliksni #fallen #eliksni fanfic #Ellrimksyt #Part 2 #Chapter 9

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quinezsvision · 3 years

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I asked my father once, "Why do you spend so much money on expensive delicacies when you could for once purchase something else for yourself?"

"Food provides me something that things cannot. It can even be destroyed easily when not properly inspected. Will you gain sudden contentment and meaning to it? no", he simply replied.

1.7 million years ago, we were hunters known as homo-sapiens, survival was our only goal, most of the time, populations are found in the wild searching for edible plants and animals to anchor ourselves from supplementing our diet and extinction.

When humans discovered the presence of fire and understood how to generate and manipulate it – this is how civilization began.

All these years, food was our ally.

The distribution of food in principle has a plethora of options. Aside from the fact that food became the medium for religious practices, taxation, and even education, we also need to eat in order to assist the body to obtain sufficient oxygen, and the cells within our bodies to function significantly. In other words, nutrients provide information to the human body. If neglected, diseases and conditions including obesity/malnutrition, arthritis, diabetes, and heart disease may arise. Food became the medium for religious practices, taxation, and even education.

Due to my dietary restrictions, I don't typically eat in the morning, but today, May 28 2021, is an exception.

The taste of Japanese cuisine has always been exquisite in my palate. The degree of tastes and boundless elements that are combined only to produce a dish that will make you want to inculcate the cuisine is remarkable. To be completely honest with my readers, I was not alone when preparing the sashimi; beside to me was Analiza Duran, my aunt - the most influential person I know in my whole existence, famed for her cooking capabilities and managing households. Because it is not the standard homemade craving that is well recognized in our country, we are willing to offer our own experience, for a Filipino basic style preparation, which are some instructions you may follow below:

[✓] The style in choosing your fish depends on the length of preservation and freshness, there are a variety of sashimi you can ponder from such as tuna, salmon, scallop, squid, and more. Smaller ones are usually best devoured as soon as they are served. On the other hand, larger ones must be kept on ice for a few hours to allow their muscles to calm.

[✓] It's fine if you don't master the art of cutting, but just do your hardest to make it as thin as possible. In comparison to others, we usually add a sprite to it before completion.

[✓] The arrangement of sashimi to the platter depends on your likeness, it's not like you're trying to serve in a restaurant. Add the finishing condiments, such as soy sauce with matching calamansi and wasabi.

Indeed, a good morning for me & hoping hindi kita nabudol!

I'm always fascinated about how simple type of food, like "lumpia" known as "spring roll" in other countries, can be regarded as a classic and valuable delicacy that you can often see at every celebration in the Philippines.

As you can see, this is merely an indication that not only will feast's instagrammable photographs and breathtaking flavors be remembered, but the sentiments we've all cherished will live on in our hearts, minds and history eternally.

Our adaptation of lumpia, due to developing trends, is identical in form and structure in which its foundation comes from the Chinese who made a meal with the use of fresh vegetables accessible in spring after a winter of largely ingesting foods that are preserved. This cuisine is thought to have been introduced to Southeast Asia by Chinese immigrants from the Fujian region, and then became famous afterward. However, let's not forget about palabok, a somewhat salty sort of noodle that will undoubtedly fulfill your hunger with its variety of toppings.

My family opted to catch up around this time of day; we are using this practice to reconcile with one other after being diverted by work and personal selves. Even though my mother was often away from us, serving in Kuwait, I always took the initiative of reaching her via messenger.

If you are able to read this nanay, we miss you.

Without a doubt, I admire and even support all sorts of consumable products available on the market, from small local businesses to relatively known fast-food chains.

It's impressive how everyone has their own techniques for surviving the pandemic, and how people has shown diverse ways of improving food choices to make it unique in the minds of the public. And I'm the sort of person that gets dragged into these expenses. The dish seen above is known as takoyaki, another Japanese delicacy derived usually from octopus; depending on the quantity of ingredients used, it is generally salty and chewy. A flavor combination of kewpie mayo and takoyaki sauce is used to conceal the bland taste of the dough. In this restaurant, there was a variety of takoyaki options to satisfy your appetites, including octobits, shrimp meat, veggie style, baby octo, bacon bits, and each with a cheese bomb. If you purchase one, I recommend pairing it with matching boba milk tea.

The only drawback to ordering this food is that my sister rejects it.

"It seems strange to me as a kid, the external element of the meal isn't my vibe." – Kristine Joy Agustin

So, readers, don't become like my sister; you were born into this world to love all of the treasures that God has bestowed on us. Create provision for discovery rather than disappointing yourself in the latter because you won't attempt at all.

Support your kapwa Filipino: Ay!!! Takoyaki Atbp. Philippians St

The aroma of grilling and heating ramen noodles soup always reaches to me, and I never complain regardless of the fact that it goes all over my clothing.

You can be very flexible when devouring this asian cuisine because there are no set guidelines on what you may combine with one another. Personally, I choose samgyup as one of my top preferences because of the extensive meat assortment, which includes distinct slices of plain pork and beef slices. Alongside from the broad meat range, we like that the seller does not skimp on the grade of their meat, ensuring that it is still fresh and delicious. More dips to experiment with are also recommended; salt and pepper, gochujang, and cheese are some of my top picks. If you truly want to compete with samgyupsal establishments, you may go all out with side dishes like lettuce, rice, steamed egg, kimchi, and more.

Truly, There are a number of businesses that provide reasonable pricing, or you may simply do it in the comfort of your own home.

To end, the beauty of food speaks for itself; without it, we would not be alive to create amazing experiences. It serves as a reminder that as long as we have food to eat, we are fortunate, and as such, we should learn to return the favor to those in need. A huge gratification to those who are working their tails and brains off simply to feed their family and the world – beloved farmers and parents.

“Cooking is all about people. Food is maybe the only universal thing that really has the power to bring everyone together. No matter what culture, everywhere around the world, people get together to eat.” – Guy Fieri

How about you, what's your food journey?

#food blogs

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kittykatzpaws · 3 years

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The Annelid Spa. Upscale, selective, nearly impossible to get booked into unless you had the right contacts. Luckily for Kolt, being a superhero gave you those sorts of connections. One mention of his name had the receptionist clearing the day’s salon schedule to book him in for a treatment. He felt a little bad, having left the booking until the last minute. He was due for a public appearance the next day. A big, important ceremony where he had to be looking his best. Normally, he’d just go to the cheap place down the street that he’d been going to for years, but the last fur treatment he’d gotten from them left him itching for days, and that just wouldn’t do for such a big event.

He arrived at the spa just after lunch. He had never actually seen the building up close, but it was as impressive as one would expect from such a high-end spa. The building was shaped like a pyramid, covered in reflective panelling that made it look like it was glowing. It was amazing. It looked, Kolt thought with a laugh, almost like a supervillain’s lair. But instead of being on some secluded island or inside a volcano, it was just nestled between two normal brick buildings in the middle of the city.

Kolt pushed open the heavy doors and walked inside, admiring how sleek and new everything looked. It seemed to be all white walls and shiny floors and gleaming metal doors. A woman sat behind the reception desk, typing away at a futuristic looking computer. Even her outfit seemed to match the rest of the building. A starched white dress and matching gloves. She glanced up at Kolt for a moment when he walked in, finishing up what she was typing before rolling her chair back to the middle of the reception desk and waving him forward.

“Mr. Lasser. We’re pleased you could join us today. We were very happy when you called to book your appointment. Such a well-known hero deserves only the best treatment, and that’s what we offer here.” The woman spoke with an even, measured tone.

Kolt smiled, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Oh, well the place I usually go to sort of didn’t work out. I think I’m allergic to something in their fur treatment.”

“We’ve been hearing that from new clients a lot recently. It makes me wonder if other places are trying to cut costs with cheaper products. I can assure you that everything we use here is of the finest quality.” She gave a polite smile and stood. “Would you like to get straight to the treatment, or would you like to enjoy some of our other facilities first? We have a wonderful sauna and a simply lovely sun room for meditation.”

Kolt considered the sauna for a moment, but shook his head. As nice as the place was, he didn’t want to be there for too long. He still had a few things to prepare before the ceremony the next day. “Just the salon, thanks.”

“Very good. Right this way, please.” The receptionist took a step towards one of the metal doors before pausing. “Ah, we have a very strict policy about technology. I’ll need to ask you to hand over your cell phone, watch, and any other items of technology you may have.”

Kolt hesitated, glancing at his watch. He didn’t like leaving it behind. The suit inside of it was his last line of defence. “You can’t make an exception?” He asked, hopefully.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Lasser.” The receptionist gave a regretful shake of her head. “But I promise you, they’ll be kept perfectly safe, and will be returned to you as soon as you’re ready to leave.”

Kolt sighed. It was unlikely anything bad would happen during a couple of hours at a spa, so he supposed he could part with it. It wasn’t easy, but he took off his watch and fished his phone from his pocket, handing them both over to the receptionist. She took out a key, unlocking a drawer in the desk and placing the items gently inside before locking it again. At least they were safe, Kolt reassured himself. And he would get them back soon.

“This way.” The receptionist gestured for Kolt to follow her, pushing open one of the large metal doors. “The treatment room is at the very back of the spa, so I’m afraid we’ll have to go through a few of the other rooms to get there. Please try to remain quiet so you don’t disturb any of the other guests.”

She led him through a second metal door and into a large tiled room. On either side were large pools full of mud. Kolt could see a couple of people relaxing in the mud baths, covered in the substance. The next room she led him through seemed to be for massages. There was a man faced down on a massage bed, getting his shoulders rubbed by a woman in an identical uniform to the receptionist. His tail was swishing softly in delight as he was massaged. Kolt lingered for just a moment, thinking about how nice a massage would be. The receptionist continued her quick strides, so Kolt had to jog for a moment to catch up to her, following her through the next set of doors.

She led him through a few more rooms. One had walls covered in stained glass, and people meditating under the multicoloured reflections. Another had soft gongs going off, in different tones and intervals, and Kolt thought he remembered reading something about “sound bathing” in the brochure for the place. After going through a few more rooms, they finally reached the treatment room. It was large and slightly cold, with a shiny black chair in the middle. The sides of the chair were raised up, looking as though his body would slot perfectly into it. Around the chair were counters and cabinets, presumably full of products and tools for treating his fur. The receptionist left him with brief instructions to strip and wait for the salon specialist. Kolt did as he was told, piling his clothes onto a chair in the corner. He waited for a few, awkward minutes before the doors opened once more and a new woman stepped inside. She was dressed identically to the rest of the staff, and had an equally professional demeanour.

“Mr. Lasser. If you wouldn’t mind getting into the chair?” She gestured to the black chair. “We’ll start with a quick inspection and brush, then move on to shampoo to make everything soft, and finally drying.”

Kolt did as he was told, his body fitting perfectly into the chair. It felt as though it were made for him. The woman’s gloved fingers sifted through his fur slowly, making soft notes about the texture and feel under her breath. When she was finally satisfied, she walked over to one of the cabinets. Kolt watched her search the drawer full of brushes to find the right type for his fur before returning triumphantly with one in hand. One side of it had long metal claws to untangle the longest parts of his fur. The other side had softer bristles made for the rest of his fur.

The woman began her work, starting at the top of his head and working her way down methodically. Kolt let himself relax into the feeling, the tips of the brush lightly scratching at his scalp in a soothing way. He generally thought of himself as a pretty hygienic guy, but she brushed parts of him he’d never even thought about. The crease where his ears met his head, the underside of his jaw, the backs of his knees. She also got places he typically struggled to reach. She had him sit up so she could brush his whole back, paying extra attention to the middle where his arms couldn’t quite reach. It felt nice.

“I’m going to tip the chair back now.” The woman warned him so the sudden change didn’t scare him. “It turns into a sort of tub that I can fill with water so we can wash your fur.”

Kolt nodded, thankful for the warning. He felt himself tipping back as the chair moved, his legs coming up until the whole chair was flat. He understood now why the sides came up so high. She would be able to fill it with water without splashing it all over the floor. She took his hand lightly, running some warm water over it and asking if the temperature was alright for him. He nodded and she left the nozzle in the tub with him, filling it slowly as she went to get the shampoo.

He closed his eyes when she returned, not wanting to get shampoo in them. He could feel the bubbles forming around him as she poured the shampoo into the water. He could smell it on the steam rising from the bath, slightly spiced with a faint chemical undertone. It felt nice in his fur, her fingers massaging it into him. This was his favourite part about going to salons. The warm water and the gentle attention were always a nice way to relax. Especially when something big and important like the ceremony was coming up.

As he laid in the bath, the chemicals in the shampoo slowly sank into his skin. He felt lethargic, sluggish. It wasn’t abnormal for him to get tired during a salon visit, so he thought nothing of it. But his thoughts slowed to a crawl. He let the woman move his limbs where she needed to, unable to muster up the energy to move himself. Not that he needed to. She was doing such a good job getting him nice and clean for the ceremony. Really, all he needed to do was let the feeling of tiredness wash over him and leave her to her job.

It felt like it was all over too soon. She finished working the shampoo into his fur and rinsing away the excess. He was clean, and all that was left was for him to be dried, and then the lovely spa visit would be over. The thought sunk in slowly, his eyes opening slightly when a shadow passed over them. She had pulled down what looked like some sort of vent, and it began to gently blow warm air towards him. He felt similar vents open in the chair itself, warming and drying him from both sides. The chemicals from the shampoo were still working through his system, keeping him slow and tired.

“Before we finish, there’s someone who wants to pay you a visit. She has a complimentary service to offer you.” The woman spoke, her words taking their time to penetrate the chemical fog that was swirling in Kolt’s brain.

He didn’t fully understand what she had said until there was a new face peering down at him. The woman was elegant and beautiful, and the grin on her face was one of triumph. She looked… familiar. Kolt tried to remember where he’d seen her before. He blinked up at her, brows furrowed as he sifted slowly through his memories. She looked a lot like one of the supervillains he was working to stop, but he couldn’t quite recall a name. Was that her? The thought didn’t bother him so much as confuse him. Was she a supervillain? Why was she running a spa if she was?

“Well, I had a whole monologue prepared for this moment, but it seems like it would be wasted on you in this state.” The woman gave an exaggerated sigh of disappointment. “I suppose I’ll just go right into it then. The worm?”

She held her gloved hand out and the woman who had been washing Kolt’s fur handed her a pair of forceps. Pinched between them was something that looked akin to a slug or a fat worm. Kolt’s brain was still whirring uselessly, trying to catch up to what was happening. There was a supervillain here, running a spa, and holding a worm? He couldn’t figure out how it all connected in his head. It was a little frustrating. He was usually so good at working these sorts of things out.

He watched as the woman moved the forceps closer to his ear, the worm wriggling as though desperate to escape. He should probably move. That was his most coherent thought. But he wasn’t entirely sure how to do it. While he considered this, he felt the slimy head of the worm press against his ear. It was large. He could feel it stretching his ear canal, squirming as it tried to burrow into his ear to reach his brain. That wasn’t good. He wanted to do something to stop it, but he couldn’t think clearly enough to know what to do. Maybe his super suit could help? He just barely got up the energy to pat uselessly at his wrist, wondering why his watch wasn’t there. He remembered, as the worm wriggled farther into his ear, that he’d been told to take it off. That wasn’t good either.

The woman released the worm from the forceps once it was lodged halfway into Kolt’s ear. The worm writhed its way in, slimy and thick. It disappeared into his ear, and Kolt could feel it deep inside of him, working towards his brain. The fleshy creature filled his head, and his eye twitched slightly at the feeling of it nudging at his brain. He could feel it wriggling around in his head, searching for the perfect spot to make its home. The woman was talking to him again, probably unable to help herself from explaining her evil plan, but Kolt couldn’t focus. The wet, fleshy creature was deep inside his brain, and he could feel it burrowing deep into his memory centre, making itself at home there. His vision went fuzzy as it latched on, becoming an integral part of the memory centre of his brain.

Over the course of a few minutes, the worm managed to meld itself completely into his brain. It was, for all intents and purposes, his new memory centre. It couldn’t be removed without doing permanent damage. Not that Kolt would remember it was in there for long enough to try to remove it anyway. Already, it was working hard to take over his memories and make him forget it was there at all. Its bloated, slimy body dug deep into his brain, and Kolt could feel his whole body responding to it as its tail slithered past various parts of his brain to join the rest of its body in taking over his memories. His fingers twitched when it passed the part responsible for his movement. He babbled incoherently as it burrowed past his speech centre. With every writhing motion, his head felt fuller, like the tube of flesh was filling his whole skull.

It was almost a melting feeling in his head, sending tingles to the back of his scalp. He could feel the worm melding with his brain, its synapses hijacking his own to take over. All he could see was blurry colours, the gleaming white of the room, the shining metal of the vents still drying him with warm air, the crimson grin of his captor. He could feel the worm start to work, sending little shocks of information into his brain. His memories of the worm began to slip away, leaving nothing more than a slightly odd, pulsing feeling in the back of his head. He remembered the woman with the forceps, but he couldn’t remember what they held. Or where it had gone. Was it part of the treatment? Why was the woman there, anyway? Then, his memories of the villainous woman with the forceps began to disappear as well. Someone had walked into the room, but he couldn’t remember who. Perhaps just another worker, there to check up on the treatment? And then he didn’t even remember the interruption at all. Just the brushing, the bath, the warm fans drying him. The worm pulsed inside of his brain, leaving him wondering at the feeling. It drew out all his memories of the supervillain, replacing them with a perfectly normal day at the spa. A normal, if not a bit nicer than his usual salon experiences, brush and wash, and now a thorough drying. Nothing for him to worry about.

Kolt could feel the strength come back to him somewhat, as though he were just waking up from a deep sleep. The chemicals from the shampoo had run their course. Though, as far as Kolt was concerned, he’d only been tired because of the soothing feeling of having his fur washed. His vision refocused as the vent was lifted and the tub turned back into a chair. He looked around and saw the woman who had done his treatment, smiling at him. They were alone. He wasn’t sure why that was something he noticed. Of course they were alone, she’d been the only one to help with his treatment. And, come to think of it, she had done an amazing job. His fur felt softer than it had in years.

“I hope you had a nice time.” The woman said politely.

Kolt no longer felt the worm pulsing in his head, but it was certainly there, working exactly as it had been trained to. The woman had been so nice, Kolt thought to himself, and she’d done such a good job. He should definitely tip her, quite generously. He grabbed his clothes, searching his pockets for his wallet. He paused for a moment to dress before opening his wallet. He’d set aside a few banknotes to tip her with, but now that he thought back on his memories of the treatment, she’d done so much for him. She’d done such a good job and it had been such a pleasant experience. He pulled out a much larger wad of bills, handing them over to her with a smile.

“You did a great job, my fur feels amazing!” He praised.

The woman smiled, counting out the bills. “My boss will be pleased to hear it.”

She led Kolt back through the rooms and out to the reception area. The receptionist smiled at them both, asking how the treatment went. They both assured her that it had gone very well, and she seemed pleased. She pulled out her key, unlocking the drawer in her desk and pulling out Kolt’s belongings. She handed over his phone, watch, and usb stick. Kolt took them gratefully, putting his watch back on his wrist and pocketing the other two items. The worm slithered deeper into his brain, stopping him from wondering about the usb. Of course it was his, why else would the woman have given it to him?

The ceremony went off without a hitch, and Kolt even got quite a few compliments. He’d definitely have to go back to that spa some time, it had been a lovely experience. But that would have to wait. For now he had work to do at the base. The days after the ceremony were busy ones. There was a lot to do, and Kolt had already taken two days off, between his spa day and the ceremony. He didn’t have time for anything even close to a break for a few days afterwards. When he finally did, he found himself standing in the hallway, feeling like there was a thought nagging in the back of his mind.

He’d forgotten to do something important. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, but there was something he needed to do. His hand strayed absentmindedly to his pocket, fiddling with the usb drive. He froze. That’s what it was! He rubbed his forehead, feeling ridiculous for having forgotten. He made his way to the nearest computer room, plugging the usb into the port. How could he have forgotten to do this? It was very important! He couldn’t… quite remember why it was important. But it needed to be done.

He watched words fill up the screen, walking him through what he needed to do. He tapped away at the keys, doing what he was told. Once it was done, a message flashed onto the screen, letting him know he could take out the stick. He pulled it out, disposing of it discreetly. He stopped and blinked. What had he just been doing? He remembered standing in the hallway, and now he was at a computer. He looked at the computer, but it seemed to be running like normal. Why had he gone in there? He thought about it for a moment longer before deciding he’d probably just gone in to check that he’d updated the files after his last mission. He sat down at the computer and checked, confirming that he had. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten walking into the room, he must have been really tired. He stretched and yawned, heading off for a well-earned nap.

⚜ Commission Me ⚜

#hypnosis #brainwashing #brain worm #snapdragon posts #snapdragon commissions #Another really fun commission!!#I always love experimenting with new ideas and stories!

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drabblemeister · 5 years

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Wine & Writes: Coffee Prompt

Author: Ladelle | Drabblemeister Prompt: Behind every successful person is a substantial amount of coffee. Comments: Finally posting something, would you believe it Summary: Wherein Tim is a walking tragedy who has an embarrassing crush on a certain barista. There was something to be said for the amount of busy Tim was, though anyone wandering the floor of Wayne Tech with two brain cells to spare dutifully kept their thoughts to themselves. After all, laying insult to what was very obviously a genius was an undertaking for persons with a much higher pay grade - and since Bruce Wayne seemed to turn a blind eye to the amount of Starbucks cups that, at this point, looked like planned decor within Tim's office - it was fair to deduce that there may not actually be a problem.

Tim, begrudgingly, knew he had a problem. Though, contrary to popular belief, it wasn't caffeine. It wasn't coffee, either, though he was definitely okay with the convenience of that particular assumption as it was a red herring he was prone to fall back on. After all, it was a lot easier for people to believe he fantasized about midday Americanos and not Jason T., the barista, who served them.

"Ugh," Tim said, spinning in his desk chair. He'd slept in too late and nearly been tardy for a meeting, and so he hadn't stopped by the coffee shop at his usual time. It was enough to drive him insane. "What am I? Seventeen?"

He was not seventeen, but the amount of time he spent thinking about Jason's fingers fitting cardboard protectors onto steaming cups of coffee was enough to make him second guess what maturity bracket he was sure he'd climbed to post-college.

"Hey, how'd the meeting go?" a voice startled him, and Tim was quick to sit upright in his seat, as if he'd been caught at something incriminating.

"What meeting?" he questioned. The words practically fell onto the table, where he idly glanced downward, catching his reflection in the glass.

Desperation stared back.

"Uh," Tam blinked. She tucked a short, layered curl behind her ear. "Your 9am?"

Tim looked up just in time to see her eyes lift to meet his, as if she'd been scanning the tabletop, attempting to pick out just what he'd been staring at.

Tim sighed. Slouching into his chair, he ignored they way the joints squeaked under his weight; he twirled a stylus between his fingers and shrugged. "Oh, that meeting. It was fine."

Fine wasn't how anyone came away describing acquisition calls, but there weren't any words that could accurately convey the torture of listening to attorneys yell out IRS jargon for the better part of an hour. If Tim had to guess, it was definitely one of Dante's seven layers.

"Hmm," Tam hummed, and it was a very particular hum, a sound she always made when she was two steps ahead of him. For a moment, he was worried she was going to tell him that one of the attorneys had phoned in for him. Instead, she leaned against the doorframe and said, "I've come to learn something."

Tim hoped it wasn't the fact he'd stolen another one of her sticky pads.

"Behind every successful person," Tam continued, looking quite philosophical as she leveled her big brown doe-eyes at him, "is a substantial amount of coffee."

This time, it was Tim who blinked.

"Of which you've had none today," Tam clarified. "So I ordered you some. It should arrive any minute and all I ask if that you go downstairs to get it."

Tam, above all things, was a godsend. Blessed with the ability to make scarily accurate assumptions, she'd clearly missed a psychic calling and, since such a raw, interminable force of power had been unfairly relegated to transcribing Tim's barely legible meeting notes for the better part of a forty hour work week, Tim showed his respect by simply obeying her demands.

"Okay," he said.

In return, she offered a satisfied nod.

Tim added, "...and thank you."

And then, like all higher powers, she was gone.

This left Tim with the arduous task of standing, to which his entire body protested. He'd barely slept the night before (up late rebuilding a desktop) and listening to the lawyers go at it had effectively locked up his joints. Probably a survival instinct; you know - if you stay incredibly still, there's a chance they won't see you. Still, he found the willpower to move.

The 10th floor was quiet, spare the distant squeal of a Xerox and the distinct sound of a disgruntled administrative assistant lending a multitude of kicks. In nearly every corner, a muted television aired current market speculation and Tim wasn't surprised to see that the acquisition was already being reported on. Making his way to the elevators, he dragged a hand through his hair, disturbing the gel he'd forgotten he'd slicked through it.

A few bangs fell loose and he sighed, reaching up to loosen the neck of his tie since he was through with meetings for the day and wasn't expecting Bruce to drop by. For comfort, he even popped the top button, enjoying, momentarily, the ability to breathe. That was, until the door pinged open and the front desk was laid bare, a certain Jason T. stretched idly over the rise of it, a steaming cup of coffee seated next to his bicep.

In that very moment, the receptionist happened to turn, her attention torn from Jason T. and to the ever-so-slight movement of the executive elevator. Practically glowing, she called, "Mr Dr-"

It was too late.

In an unconscious moment of self-preservation, Tim jabbed the close-door button. Jason T.'s eyes lifted to meet his - just as the elevator whooshed shut.

Tim blinked.

His heart pounded.

Once again, his joints locked - same survival instinct. Just as useless.

Oh my god, he thought. Did I just-

Just, he had.

Eyes wide, he stared at his white-knuckled finger, still glued to the panel. He thought about going back upstairs. It wasn't like he needed the coffee. Besides, he'd just messed up his hair. And his tie wasn't right.

Natural Selection was a voice in the back of his head telling him that those green eyes were a danger to his very existence.

Without realizing it, his finger loosened on button, and with another ping, the doors once again slipped open. Only this time, right beyond them was a too-tight black shirt, biceps for days, green eyes that had the highway of Tim's circulatory system immediately rerouting southbound routes, and a lower lip pinched between teeth that made Tim swallow so dryly that he thought he might embarrass himself further by stumbling into a coughing fit.

"It's probably the sensor," Jason T. said, and he was leaning forward, nearly in Tim's space as he analyzed the doors. Since Tim was never going to admit he'd subconsciously tried to cut and run, he simply cleared his throat and took a step back, trying to get some air between them.

"Yes, well," Tim said, clearing his throat again. "Technology."

At that, Jason T. glanced down, an unfiltered grin garnering dimples. The spirit of Charles Darwin yelled, "Run!" from somewhere beyond the mortal plane.

Tim said, "You brought coffee?" and immediately ducked and weaved, trying to get to said drink, which he saw was still on the desk’s top. Their receptionist was in the process of hanging up a call, to which she sighed gratefully.

"I was calling the repairman," she said.

Tim fought a winning battle against the heat of his cheeks. "Yes, well, we should definitely have someone take a look."

"I didn't see you this morning," cut in Jason T., which was an interesting comment, because Tim wasn't aware the barista knew he existed. Which, in truth, was a bit ironic; some days, Tim thought everyone knew who he was - and his favorite color, album, magazine, hobbies, etc. He had a wikipedia page, after all. Also a twitter.

Something about the earnestness in Jason's eyes said he definitely did not have a Twitter.

Why was that so goddamn attractive?

"I didn't know you were keeping tabs," Tim replied, snaking the coffee into his grasp and taking a sip, giving his lips something other to do than further make a fool of himself.

Jason T., in all his disheveled and fitness-kissed glory, cocked his head sideways. "Would you rather I not?"

Tim, mid-swallow, lifted his gaze. Was this....flirting?

There was a beep, and Jason T. pulled up his watch. He sighed, though there was nothing about the sound that lended to defeat. "Well, I've got to run," he said, leaving Tim in a haze of bewilderment. "Still on the clock, you know."

Tim had not known.

He was still stuck on Jason's keeping tabs, a whole calculatory meme dancing behind him. He must have looked the part, because Jason laughed as he made his way towards the door and tossed Tim a salute.

"See you tomorrow!"

The sentiment echoed.

Tim stood for a moment longer, eyebrows drawn inward, trying to decide is he was either hopeful, and idiot, or perhaps both.

"Mr. Drake?" the receptionist said, and Tim nearly jumped out of his skin, having forgotten she was there.

"Sorry, it's just - he wrote something on the cup--" she said, looking incredibly pleasant about the whole ordeal.

"Oh," Tim replied, examining his white button-up to ensure he hadn't spilled just before finally taking a look at the cup. He stumbled over a laugh.

In fine-point cursive, there was a phone number. And then: next time, don't leave asking me out to your assistant~

#jaytim #wine and writes #prompts #ladelle writes #these losers #i love them

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