#finished this last week but kept lying to myself that i was going to shade or render | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lilac-5ky · 2 years

Text

To Bake A Cake (Takasugi x Birthday Fem!Reader)

A/N: Last month was my birthday and I decided to write myself a birthday fic including my beloved, but due to certain annoying family situations, it took me ages to finish ;-; But it's finally done, and voila, I decided to post it even though my birthday was over 2 weeks ago lmao.

Plot: After a run-in with Sakamoto, Takasugi realizes it's your birthday, and decides to grant you a wish. Who could have thought such wish involved whisking and baking?

guest starring tatsuma and mutsu because i realized ive pretty much never included them in anything.

Warning: Comedic fluff with lots of smut :p

(here's a ss gif because im too much a chicken to dive in the final arc just yet ;-; but he looks fine af and ;-;)

“Takasugi?”

If there is one thing Takasugi Shinsuke has learned during his rather unpleasant sojourn in life, it’s that the sound of his name seldom accompanies a blessing. Everywhere he went, disaster followed, and this place was no exception.

Be it at Edo Mart or a terminal millions of miles away from Earth, a world renowned terrorist should never even dream of setting foot inside a tobacco store with such abandon. Still that was exactly what he did, and now, he was left with no other choice, but to face the consequences of his poor decision making.

With the smoke still in hand, Takasugi hurried out of the store. A head-on confrontation in the middle of the crowd wouldn’t do, and so he kept on walking, until the voice of his pursuer faded into existence. Had he misheard? Could it be that he’d grown paranoid enough to be chased by illusions?

Bewildered, he packed the tobacco inside his yukata, when a disturbingly familiar cackle reached his ears.

“Damn, I can’t believe it was actually you.” The silhouette of a man dressed in a red duster and a pair of dark circular shades said. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed you avoided me.”

This was far worse than a rogue bounty hunter, space fighter or Naraku assassin catching whiff of him. Something he dreaded more than all three combined.

“What if I was?” Takasugi taunted.

“That’s not how you greet an old friend, Takasugi. Especially when we haven’t spoken in years!” Sakamoto pouted, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. “My letters haven’t reached the Kihentai?”

“They haven’t.” He replied in a stern tone, ignoring his friend’s comment.

In reality, Takasugi had gotten his hands on every single letter Sakamoto sent his way, though he never answered back any of them. That’s not to say he never tried to, more like he was incapable of doing so. What would he write? What was there for him to say when there was nothing piecing the two together?

Idle small talk was never his thing. He couldn’t just go back to the time when the four of them chattered about everything and nothing in particular all at once. The bonds of the past belonged in the depths of his mind, along with the memories they shared. No matter how much he yearned to traverse that limit, the only road for him was the one lying ahead. He had no time for distractions.

“That’s a shame.” Sakamoto said, buying into it. “Have you met with the others then? I hear Zura is in the same field you are.”

“Same field, entirely different agenda.” He scoffed. “Let’s just say Zura’s more like a prickle pointing at my side rather than an ally.”

“I find that hard to believe. Wasn’t he the one to always clean after your mess?”

“We’re old enough to be cleaning after our own messes. Times change, Tatsuma. I’m sure you know that best.” He sighed, taking a few steps further away from the crowd, and hopefully, away from this discussion.

“People don’t. When I look at you, I only see the same idiot who put his life on the line for a lost war. Same goes for the others.”

By the looks of it, getting rid or him wouldn’t be this easy. Even when Takasugi walked away, Sakamoto kept trailing after him, until the two made it past the quiet corner of a souvenir shop. As if anyone would want a memento to remember this god-forsaken land by. Other than a safe heaven for criminals and merchants to conduct their business in discretion, this planet offered next to nothing. The lack of sustainable tourism was enough proof for that.

At the back of the store, lied a handful of vacant chairs, one of which Sakamoto sat on and another of which Takasugi rejected. He had no particular intention to get all cozy by his side, not when the cold metallic wall felt far more welcoming.

“Was this supposed to come off as an insult or a compliment?” Takasugi sneered.

“Just an old friend’s insight.” Sakamoto chuckled, stretching his limbs. “I take it you haven’t been talking with Kintoki either.”

“I haven’t.” He admitted, the last time the two of them conversed -or, rather squabbled- still vivid in his brain.

“In that case, why don’t we plan a reuni- ”

“I’m busy.” He cut him off.

“But I never said when-”

“I’ll be busy.”

The last thing he needed was a get-together with these three idiots. Running into one of them was bad enough on its own, be it the lesser evil. Even if part of him wanted to gather around a campfire, tossing stories and insults as if nothing ever soured between them, there was no way he’d never admit it. Not to himself, and certainly, not to him.

“I should get going.” Takasugi said, looking to end this little misfortune, when Sakamoto jumped before him.

“Wait! I didn’t tell you why I was here in the first place.” Sakamoto exclaimed, revealing a rather large box from behind his back, one that Takasugi had failed to notice in prior.

“I don’t remember asking.” He smirked in an attempt to hide his curiosity.

“I was gonna have this delivered at your ship, but since you are here, you should take it.” He said, urging him to grab the parcel. “It’s for Y/N.”

“Y/N?” Takasugi asked, visibly intrigued. He was aware the two of you shared the same beginnings in life, but he would’ve never guessed you’d kept contact after the war.

“Takasugi, don’t tell me you don’t remember your own girlfriend’s birthday.” Sakamoto said in a semi-accusatory tone.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He objected, the latter part of the sentence having yet to register.

He’d rather take his other eye out than let others define your relationships as that of a boyfriend and a girlfriend, but at the same time, Takasugi was unsure of what to actually introduce you as. The woman he slept with seemed too shallow, the woman he loved too grandiose. Perhaps the term partner was the closest at doing you justice. Still, titles meant nothing when he knew precisely what you were, and that was his.

His and only his.

“Is she not? Wow, then I suppose it’s not too late for me to shoot my shot.” Sakamoto declared with a grin.

“Not unless you want to get shot first.”

At his threat, Sakamoto couldn’t help but burst into laughter, nearly dropping the box to the ground. Which he would have done, had it not been for Takasugi successfully catching it midair. It was even heavier than it looked, he noted as he balanced it against his hip.

“I was just kidding! Well, not entirely, but I don’t suppose you plan on sharing, right?”

His silence was the only answer he could spare. A merchant should know better than to go after things that were never up for sale in the first place.

“Besides, I’m happy things worked out between you two. Y/N was a real knockout back home. I never worried about her hitting it off with someone, but you finding someone who can put up with your grumpiness long term? That’s amazing!” He went on, following his words with another of his distinct cackles.

Takasugi could feel himself getting increasingly irked with every word Sakamoto spewed, even when deep down he could see his point. It was true that he wasn’t the world’s easiest person and that you’d endured hell by choosing to stay around a guy like him. Maybe to others it looked as if you were the one who needed him, considering how you always clung onto him, but in reality, it was the other way around. You were the only one who could make these dark clouds disperse, the only one he truly needed.

“Remember how just about half the girls were in love with you, yet the second you looked their way they ran away? Or how you made that girl cry right after she confessed? Poor thing, she even made you a card! Or-or, how every time we went down to Yoshiwara, no girl managed to spend an entire night with you without-”

Just when he was about to mellow down a bit, Sakamoto started speaking again, his laughter constantly breaking his own sentences in half.

“Will you keep listing more unpleasant incidents?” Takasugi asked through gritted teeth, finding it impossible to maintain his composure.

“No, of course not! I was just pointing out how you seem to have found your one true match. Really puts the whole ‘there’s someone out there for everyone’ thing into perspective.” Sakamoto grinned earnestly.

“Then you are lucky more than half the population tends to your standards.” He mumbled, as he lowered his gaze towards the box.

Why did he not know it was your birthday today? No matter how busy he was, he couldn’t have possibly forgotten, unless he never knew about it in the first place.

Come think of it, you first met amidst the war. A merchant’s daughter with great prospects and an even greater future awaiting her, choosing to fund a war she wasn’t part of, and it was all because of him. Because ever since you met, you kept trying to earn his attention through whatever means necessary.

He remembered how persistent you were, suggesting he owed you so much as a mere talk when you’d burnt all this money on his cause. At first, he saw no reason for you to get too friendly with one another. All you were was a friend of a friend, and so, he’d brushed your advances, blatantly stating that no amount of yen was enough to buy him. However, you weren’t disheartened. You kept asking him to name his price over and over again, until he finally caved in and took you on a crappy date by the shore.

Truthfully, he sucked at dating, back then and right now. The right words never came easily, and getting involved with someone during such a crucial point of his life was a hassle. But even when he’d chosen to maintain his silence, idly tossing rocks into the sea, you’d chosen to grab a stone of your own, and join him without a single complaint. You’d stayed by his side until the awkward silence became comfortable, until the moon gave way to the sun, until your nights were filled with hasty kisses and unbottled chuckles.

And then the war came to an end. All survivors either returned home, or found a new place to call that, but he wasn’t among those. Perhaps he never survived that war, perhaps he never left the battlefield. He kept on dragging the horrors of the past with him, but worse, he kept dragging you along.

You were the person he valued more than his life, that was for certain. Every smile, every kiss, every night, even your own future, you’d given that all without asking for anything in return. But why was it that you’d kept something so trivial a secret? Why was it that he had no actual recollection of you ever celebrating a damn occasion by his side? Why was it that he felt as if the times you’d cried outnumbered the ones you’d smiled?

“But, Takasugi, you should know better than to disappoint her.” Sakamoto interrupted his thoughts. “Between you and me, women really do care about birthdays and anniversaries more than we do. You should also get her a little something while you still have time. Usually something shiny or pretty cuts it, but if push comes to shove, then you could always push or shove something else into her-”

Before Takasugi had the chance to truly grasp his friend’s explicit hints, a punch came raining down on him, sending his glasses flying and his head to meet the floor.

“I thought I heard a dog barking.” The voice of a woman spoke in a harsh tone, her presence revealed behind the man’s fallen body.

Long brown hair concealed by a straw hat. Fair complexion and cunning eyes. He’d only seen this woman once before, though such formidable persona was unforgettable.

“Mu-Mutsu?” Sakamoto squeaked.

“Didn’t you promise to stay put, Sakamoto? Do I really need to tie a leash around your neck?” She asked, rubbing the point of her shoe against his throat.

“Wh—what are you talking about? We were only catching up!” Sakamoto cried, attempting to lift her leg with both hands.

“Seems like your second-in-command is far more perceptive than you are, Tatsuma.” Takasugi smirked. “Too bad she’s wasting her potential. Although it’s not too late to reconsider.”

“I’m afraid I see no profit in terrorism.” Mutsu scorned, kicking Sakamoto’s palms off her while he rolled to the side in relief. “Besides, who knows what will become of this idiot, should he stay unsupervised long enough?”

“Fair enough. Although you should take care of yourself. Idiocy is highly contagious.” He said, lightly stepping over a writhing Sakamoto.

“After all these years, I’d like to think I’ve grown immune.” She replied, following his lead.

“There are no bigger idiots than the ones who claim they aren’t. Mix it up with someone like them once, and it’s already too late to go back.”

“Experience speaking?”

“Something like that.”

“Gu-guys, can you not have this discussion on top of me?” Sakamoto begged, trying his best to retract his hands.

With a light chuckle, Takasugi obliged to his friend’s wishes, turning his back on the two of them. “Well then. I’ll be taking my leave now.”

“Oi, Takasugi, don’t forget about what I said! Make sure to-Ouch!”

Once he’d distanced himself from the scene, Takasugi stopped a final time to look over his shoulder. Mutsu kept making use of Sakamoto’s hair as if it were a mop, sweeping just about every piece of dirt, until his pleas disappeared along with the two of them behind the crowds.

“It really was good seeing you, Tatsuma.” Takasugi smiled, his steps heavier than before as he marched in the opposite direction.

“I thought you said you’d buy some smoke before we take off, not harvest an entire field yourself.”

At the sound of the door opening, you set your book down. You’d lost count of how many pages you’d flipped up until Takasugi decided to make it back to his room. For all you knew, hours, or even days had gone by. There was no real telling in the vastness of space. Everything moved at its own pace.

Still, what he did was unforgivable. Subjecting you to the dullness of going through the same book over and over again, while he was out there, most likely caught up in some incredibly fun story you’d missed on.

“If only.” Takasugi stated in a dry tone, closing the door behind him. “Instead, I was made into a messenger by an old friend of yours.”

“An old friend of mine?” You repeated, propping your jaw against your elbows.

There were little to no candidates for him to meet up in space. With the majority of your friends being either at odds with him or straight up unable to afford such a trip, the obvious answer would be Sakamoto. Not because he didn’t belong in either category, but because on a day like this, he was the only with a reason to seek you out.

Your suspicions were confirmed the moment Takasugi presented you with a rather hefty looking box, one that he set onto the floor before making his way towards the window. This definitely was the work of your childhood friend, you concluded, though you couldn’t resist playing dumb with your guesses.

“Hmm… could it be Gintoki?”

A thin cloud of smoke spiraled from his direction, the silence serving as response.

“Zura then?”

More smoke.

“Nobume?” You insisted.

“Just how many old friends do you have?” He stated, rather than asked.

“Then… Shige Shige?”

“Since when you’ve gotten friendly with the Shogun?”

“Since you’ve been taking hours to shop for tobacco.” You taunted, finding enjoyment in your little back and forth.

“Charming.” He smirked, at last turning around. “Tatsuma asked me to bring this to you.”

“Then I guess I have no right to nag you any longer. I wonder what it is!” You gleefully exclaimed in a singing voice, while your hands fumbled with the tape.

Ever since the two of you were mere brats back in Tosa, you’d come up with this weird tradition of finding the wackiest birthday gifts for one another. From vagina scented candles for your eleventh birthday, to a calendar full of inappropriate seasonal pictures of Tamo-san for his twelfth, each year the competition grew more severe than before, with nothing but the sky serving as the limit.

Your anticipation grew bigger over each tape that came off, and you could tell you weren’t the only one. A keen orb of green kept following your every movement while its owner timed each step of his with another puff of smoke. To be fair, he was doing a great job concealing his interest, and if it weren’t for his pipe nearly dropping off his lips at the sight of your gift, then you wouldn’t have known.

Admittedly, it took more time for you to realize what the item in hand was, than for Takasugi to recover from his rapid coughing. The two circular objects at the base, the pink colored mushroomy tip, the vein-like lines engraved all around… Judging by its size alone, it resembled more that of a greatsword than of a sex toy. It was ridiculously big, both in length and girth.

“Is that…?” Takasugi asked, not daring to finish his question.

Picking the dildo up, you failed close your palms around its head. This was definitely not meant for humans, or, at least, not one of your physique.

“I lost.” You admitted, realizing there was no way to ever surpass him now. “I actually lost.”

“There is a note.” He pointed back inside the box.

“Oh? You are right. Let’s see,” you paused to unfold the paper, “ ‘Dear Y/N, I hope this letter finds you in good health, and I wish you a very happy birth-Autumn, from the bottom of my heart.” You quickly glanced up at Takasugi, though he didn’t say a word.

That was a close one!

“That’s quite courteous of him!” You awkwardly chuckled.

“Anyways, ‘In the past month we managed to expand our business in Rakuyo, and this is one of our first prototypes. With the majority of Yato warriors scattered around the galaxy, their women tend to wallow in loneliness and frustration. We hope that with time, they can learn to open their hearts, along with their legs to us.’ Typical Tatsuma.” You chuckled, while Takasugi scoffed.

“Hmm, according to him, its name is ‘Master Sword 69’ and-oh, the tip is detachable and, if you insert batteries, it also works as a foot massager! That’s thoughtful.”

“Is that all?” He sighed.

You unfolded the rest of the letter, finding a postscript right at the end.

“‘P.S. I sincerely hope Takasugi is not as big of a bore in bed as he used to be.’ Oh, Tatsuma.” You giggled, unable to contain yourself. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

“Idiots never change.” Takasugi mumbled as he returned to the window.

“But Shinsuke, what’s that thing he said about you being a boring lover? Is there anything I should know?” You asked, not bothering to suppress your amusement.

“Nothing in particular.”

“Oh come on, I bet there is a great story behind this.” You insisted, only to be treated with more silence.

You didn’t need to take a look at his face to know he was sulking. With his eye narrowing to a slit, and the pouty expression of his lips, you’d grown plenty familiar with that side of his. What others saw as menacing, you only saw as absolutely adorable, to the point of you refusing to spend another minute apart.

You really had missed him.

“It’s fine. No need to tell me.” You mumbled as you pressed your head against the nape of his neck.

He was insistent on facing the opposite direction, but you didn’t mind. As long as he gave you the freedom to wrap your arms around his torso, to take in on his wonderfully intoxicating scent, to pepper every inch of bare skin you could find in kisses, then it was all fine by you.

“You plan on using that?” He eventually asked, huffing some of the smoke your way.

“Not if I can help it. I’d still choose to use you over anyone and anything else.” You cooed, planting your lips near the shell of his ear. “Only you can make me feel this way.”

“And what would that way be?” He asked in a gentler tone.

“Just, you know.” You left a peck upon his cheek. “The best kind of way.”

Although he didn’t mean for you to see it, a tiny smile broke through his grave expression as he caved in to your touch. That was Takasugi for you. No matter the sharpness of his eye, and the shrewdness of his words, the way his free hand cupped over your own revealed all you needed to know. From the moment you first took hold of each other, to this moment here, he remained as enamored with you as he was back then.

The two of you stayed like that for quite a while, until Takasugi drew his kiseru away from his lips to store it inside his clothes.

“What do you want?” He asked, circling his thumb over your knuckles.

“Hmm?” You tilted your head.

“Is there anything you want for your birthday?”

“You knew?” You yelped, letting go of him at once.

“You take me for an idiot?” Takasugi inquired as he turned around.

“….No.” You sighed. Switching out ‘birthday’ for autumn had really done it.

It wasn’t as if you actively tried to keep your birthday a secret, but with the war and him turning to terrorism, there was never really an appropriate moment to mention it. You couldn’t simply show up one day with cake and balloons and surprise your own self, and being the one to casually announce it didn’t feel quite right either. In the end, you pushed this occasion to the back of your brain, the sole reminder of which became Sakamoto’s annual presents.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked with genuine concern.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s just that,” you lowered your head “I didn’t want to weigh you down with another responsibility. I know how exhausting everything is for you, I see it every single day when you collapse in bed without saying a word. I don’t want to be the one to add more to that, nor do I wish to pressure you into buying me a gift or pulling a surprise on me. Just getting to spend my every day with you is enough for me.”

“Y/N.” His voice commanded. “Our lives so far have been filled with more sorrows than I care to count. My eye has seen more horrors than I wish to remember. Do you really think that your birthday would add to either?”

“N-no…” You admitted, shying away from his gaze.

“Then I find no reason for you to be keeping that from me. We’ve each carried the other’s sorrows long enough. Let us carry a joy for once.”

He was right. If only you’d just mentioned it to him before, then you wouldn’t have to embarrass yourself like this in front of him. It was only right that he knew, especially when you’d never missed the chance to surprise him on his own birthday.

“So tell me. Is there anything you want?” Takasugi asked again.

“Are you serious about the ‘anything’ part?” You smiled in mischief, quickly snapping out of your own dejection.

Arching an eyebrow, Takasugi took a step closer until you stood eye to eye. You couldn’t tell whether he was trying to read your mind or intimidate you into giving up on your idea, but either way, you both knew it was too late for him to go back on his offer.

“You’ll really do anything I ask?”

He was most likely regretting ever suggesting that, though he didn’t show it. Instead, he merely nodded, perhaps his curiosity winning him over a second time.

“…Sure.”

This was all the confirmation you needed. “Then, follow me!”

“What kind of wish fulfilling involves a kitchen?” Takasugi asked the second you set foot in the ship’s kitchen.

Out of all the shenanigans you’d gotten him mixed up in, out of every bad idea he’d suffered through, this one would come to top them all. But it was your birthday, and he’d been so generous as to present you with an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that you weren’t too keen on brushing off. Even if he protested, even if he tried to claw his way out, you’d make sure that by the time the two of you left the room, it’d be with your objective in hand; a cake.

“Shinsuke, what is the first thing you think about when you hear the word ‘birthday’?”

“Death.” He bluntly stated. “It’s a reminder that your time is running out.”

“Weren’t you the one who spoke against sharing nothing but sorrows?” You argued in disbelief. It wasn’t unusual for him to be grim, but that was beyond your expectations. “Let’s just skip to the point. A birthday without cake is no birthday at all.”

His expression had turned completely vacant, to the point of you being able to hear imaginary crickets chirping in the background.

“My wish is for you to bake me a cake!”

Even more chirping.

Had he not heard you? You weren’t too sure about that, though once he turned to the door, you realized he’d not only been listening to your every word, but was already planning his escape.

“You said you’d-ugh, do anything! You can’t-ugh, leave!” You exclaimed as you threw yourself to the door, blocking the exit with your body.

Just like he had no intention of honoring his word, you had no intention of letting him go either. A direct confrontation would result in your defeat, but when you managed to get hold of the door’s key, there was little he could do. It was game over. At least for now.

“You know, this won’t be enough to stop me.” Takasugi sneered, watching as you stuffed the key inside your kimono. “There are many ways for me to get that key back.”

“I’d like to see you try. The only way outside these holy grounds is through my satisfaction.”

At your declaration, he couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow.

“Now, let’s get to work!” You said as you paced further inside the room, a groaning Takasugi following closely.

Truth is, you’d only been in the kitchen a handful times before. The Kiheitai already possessed designated personnel to handle everyone’s meals, and unless either of you wanted to snack on something specific, -namely, Takasugi on his beloved beverage- there was no need to spend any time in here, meaning, you had no idea where to find anything.

Starting with the fridge seemed like a reasonable idea, you thought to yourself as you tied your hair into a high ponytail. Eggs, butter and, thankfully, heavy cream. You laid everything on top of the counter before making your way around the drawers, checking the final ingredients off your list. So far, so good.

The real struggle came with finding the appropriate utensils. Bowls and cutlery were easy enough to locate. You even got yourself a light-pink apron in the process, yet no matter how hard you looked, the mixer was nowhere to be found.

“Where is the mixer?” You asked once you’d checked just about every cabinet.

“How am I supposed to know? What kind of faction do you think I’m running?” He snapped, refusing to help in the slightest.

Disappointed, you were about to call it quits when you remembered seeing a whisk somewhere in there, which wasn’t quite the same, but if a certain glaring samurai were to assist, nothing was impossible.

“There’s a whisk!” You announced, presenting it to him.

More cricket sounds. He looked at it as if he’d never seen another.

“You really haven’t cooked anything in your life, have you?”

“I have.” He lied.

“What was it?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Onigiri.”

“That doesn’t make you any less of a culinary virgin, Shinsuke. I bet Zura was the one to handle the majority of the work while all you did was boss him around.” You accused, waving the whisk at his face.

“Not a lie.” He smirked.

“It’s a wonder people follow you when you refuse to get your hands dirty.” You mumbled. “But fear not! Today, your cherry gets popped. As long as we are in here, you are no Kiheitai leader, but a rookie whose wish is my com-no, my wish is your command” You corrected. “Understood?”

Although evidently irritated, Takasugi ended up agreeing to your suggestion, going so far as to accept the whisk from your hands.

“Perhaps you could call me senpai while you’re at it-”

“Not a chance, birthday girl.” He interrupted.

“Fine, fine. Let’s start with the base.”

One by one, you tossed the ingredients in the bowl, while he mixed them together with just about zero enthusiasm. He was such a handful!

“You know, it will take forever if you do it like that.” You commented, slipping behind his back and then claiming his hand with yours. “Let me show you.”

Propping your chin on top of his shoulder, you started to vigorously shake his hand back and forth around the bowl, making sure that everything got mixed thoroughly.

“If you don’t do it this way, the ingredients won’t mesh well together and there will be lumps of flour.” You explained, unaware of how rather than paying attention to your words, Takasugi kept staring down your lips.

As he got the hang of it, his hand began moving on its own. “That’s it! Keep it up, and-”

Before you could finish your sentence, you took notice in how close the two of you were. With your bodies pressed together and his lips curling into a lazy smile, you forgot all about what it was that you wanted to say.

“Y-you can handle things from here.” You stuttered, pulling yourself away. “I’ll go bring the pan.”

Even after all these years, it was so easy for him to get under your skin. One look of his, and your mind was already filling up with intrusive thoughts that involved him using his hands on something else. He’d always been skilled with his fingers, be it at fighting, cooking, or…

Get your shit together, you scolded yourself, repeatedly patting your palms flat against your burning cheeks.

“What’s taking you so long?” His voice queried from the other side of the room.

“Coming!”

Once the pan was in the oven and the timer set, the time for the the filling came. Neither your supplies nor your skills allowed much room for creativity and so, you decided to keep things simple. Some heavy cream and sugar would do just fine, but even for that, his help was needed.

“Can you do this for me?” You brought a clean bowl forth.

“Is that a question, or a command?” Takasugi asked.

“A little bit of both.” You smiled as he took the bowl from your hands. “Do it harder than before. You’ll know it’s ready when peaks start to form.”

It was nice to see him take things more seriously. For someone who was fixed on destroying the world, to be baking cakes certainly was out of character, but at the same time, the image felt somewhat natural to you.

Back when the outcome of the war had yet to be defined, and the two of you had the freedom to dream, you’d pictured such a life countless of times. Instead of sneaking around between stranded beaches and hollow willow trees, you’d be greeting each other under the same roof. He’d nag about the different ways Gintoki -or another of his subordinates- got on his nerves that day, while you’d be setting the table, welcoming his every complaint with a warm smile.

Then after you’d finish dining, you’d move onto the couch under the pretense of watching some crappy show none of you cared about, just he could snake his arm around your shoulders. And at the first yawn, you’d lay side by side on the same bed where you’d be free to cradle his face in your hands and fawn over how beautiful your reflection appeared in his emerald green eyes. You’d whisper ‘I love you’s’ to each other with no fear for tomorrow, knowing that this life would not be taken away from you.

The Takasugi in front of you resembled that of your dreams a lot, except this one kept hissing in frustration at his sleeves. No matter how many times he rolled them out of the way, they insisted to fall inside the bowl, cutting his movements short. With a smile, you placed your hand on top of his. This version of him was perfect enough already.

“Need some help?” You teased, lifting one of his sleeves out of the way.

“I’m fine.” He didn’t sound convincing in the slightest.

You chuckled at his refusal. He was always like that, as if it would kill for him to receive the aid of anyone. If he could bring this world down by himself, then you had no doubt, he’d choose to do that without speaking to another soul. Be it his burdens or his sleeves, unless you forcefully lifted them for him, then he’d insist on doing things the hard way.

With some his frustration evaporating, Takasugi managed to bring the cream to its appropriate state; not too fluffy and not too thick either. You let go off his sleeves and he let go of the whisk, turning the bowl around so to inspect it properly.

“Looks good.” He deducted.

You nodded in agreement. “Let’s see…”

Dipping the tip of a spoon in, you took a taste of your creation. He really had a knack for this. It tasted wonderful!

“Mmm, it’s sweet.” You exclaimed, licking it clean. “Want some?”

For a moment, you saw him contemplate his answer before reaching out. You took it as an invitation, and so you dipped the spoon back in, though you never had the chance to deliver it. Instead, your hand was caught mid-air by his, with your unsuspecting lips falling victim to his own. You gasped, nearly letting go off the spoon as you closed your eyes, finding a taste far more wonderful than any cream you’d ever tasted.

“Indeed.” He breathed. “Very sweet.”

With his fingers pressing at your wrist, Takasugi pulled you closer, until you landed in his arms, and until the thought of holding onto that stupid spoon vanished behind a loud clang. He pressed a kiss upon your lips and then you pressed another, your tongues tugging and swirling in imperfect sync, as you both felt the heat rise in between your bodies. You wanted more, and he was more than willing to take from you.

It was only when you felt his palms dropping to your bum that you realized what he was trying to do. That bastard was way too damn good at this.

“Seducing me won’t work.” You whispered and he chuckled, not at your words, but at how you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from him.

“It won’t?” He taunted, fully aware of the answer. Whatever it was that he was doing, you had no power to resist.

Without breaking apart from your mouth, Takasugi carried you all the way towards the closest unoccupied flat surface he could find. A cold sensation trickled down your spine as you made contact with the hard metal. Not in a million years would you ever think that you’d be doing this with him, yet there you were, spreading your legs wide open for him to nest in between.

His arm remained hooked around your waist when all of a sudden you felt him stop. You opened your eyes along with your lips, sheepishly staring at him with nothing but desire, of which he took advantage. His thumb trailed the outline of your jawline before swiping over your bottom lip. Without thinking twice, you puckered up your lips against it, pressing a peck so gentle as his smile. God, he was so beautiful in that moment, words he stole right out your mouth.

Letting go of you completely, Takasugi lowered himself until his knees met with the floor and the tips of his fingers with your thighs. You glanced down at him, watching as he balanced your knees upon his shoulders, his own gaze solely fixated at your entrance.

“Wh-what are you doing?” You asked, your voice coming out like a croak.

“You wanted to order me around, did you not?” His breath tickled as he moved his head closer. “Look where my hands are now, Y/N.” He demanded, squeezing at your skin. “And my lips.” He went on, leaving each thigh with a kiss. “And my tongue.”

A sharp inhale got caught up in your throat as you felt his wet tongue lap over your clothed slit, the feeling only amplified by the way his eye bore into yours.

“Go ahead and order.” He mumbled, running his tongue along your lips, lest you weren’t convinced already. “How should I use them?”

You had a hard time distinguishing between dream and reality right now. While he always made sure you got to have as much fun as he did, he’d never been this accommodating before, and in a semi-public space, least of all places. You barely believed in your eyes, but then again, the dripping sensation between your legs told no lies. This was all very much reality, and you wouldn’t let it go to waste.

“D-do that again,” you stammered. “I like it when you tease me.”

A faint chuckle followed your bashful confession, it feeding directly into his pride.

In less than a heartbeat, Takasugi complied with your demand. With his fingers squeezing lower, his mouth pressing firmer, and his tongue languidly moving across every inch of your folds, he left no spot untouched. You tried to look down, though your apron stood in the way of getting a clear view. All you saw was a head of purple peak underneath, and that certainly was not enough.

“I wanna see.”

Hands slid around your waist, his eye being the first to undress your body. One by one, the knots of your kimono and apron came undone, bringing both fabrics to simply drape over your bare figure, a sight not even he could resist.

Rather than going back down, his fingers snuck past your garment and onto your breast, trailing your hardened peak all the way to the soft curve of your skin. You smiled. After all, you loved that kind of attention from him.

Once he’d had enough, he returned to his knees, both of you having gained sufficiently better view of each other. You placed your feet atop his shoulders, prodding him to get back into business. A single finger hooked around the elastic of your underwear, with him seeking confirmation in your features. Perhaps you could get used to this compliant side of his.

“Take them off.” You instructed without hesitation, wiggling your hips to accommodate him.

The moment he rid of that final restraint, Takasugi plunged forward, his impatience showing every step of the way. If it were any other occasion, he’d have about zero qualm to push you down and take you however he pleased, but for now, you could tell he was doing his absolute best to remain tame for the sake of honoring his word.

Tentatively, he rolled his tongue outside his mouth and onto your entrance, his fingers spreading your lips for him to pepper the area with short kitten licks. You sighed, little by little feeling your clit swelling up under his touch. This was nowhere near what you’d imagined when you first walked ins that kitchen, but now, it was everything you craved.

“Give me your hand.” You asked, extending your own in his direction.

His hand found yours midway as he directed his attention to your fingers. You weren’t too sure whether he’d catch your drift or not, but it was worth a try. With your index, you traced the inside of his palm in a straight line, pressing firmly at the end of it before repeating the same gesture from the top. Not too gentle, but not too rough either. Just how you wanted to be touched.

In the same manner your finger brushed his skin, his flattened tongue came to glide over your slit only to stop short at your clit, following the same route all over again. For a second time, you sighed, your arousal gradually building with each stroke. The familiarity between you allowed no room for mistakes; he knew exactly what you needed.

“You taste better than any damn cake in this world.” Takasugi commented for the first time in a while, closing his lips over your clit.

“D-don’t insult our cake!” You felt him smirk at your objection, his teeth barely grazing over your sensitive spot, be it enough to make you moan.

“Want me to go a bit harder?” He asked, lazily swirling over your clit.

“I suppose you can.” You answered, hiding your embarrassment behind a pout. Years later and his effect on you had not worn off.

Lacing his fingers with yours, Takasugi began to follow a pattern of his own, the kind to set all your pretty sounds free. With his one hand rubbing at your thigh, he made sure you got to watch your clit disappear into his mouth, each kiss of his leaving it wetter than the previous one.

“F-fuck…”

You could feel every bump of his tongue massage your cluster of nerves, the warmth of his mouth making it feel as if he was attempting to rekindle a fire in you, one that had all but been extinguished. He wanted you to burn, just so he could burn with you. Just so you could feel every single emotion his tongue failed to describe engraved upon your body.

In no time, he had you moaning nothing but the sound of his name, occasionally no more than the sharp consonants of his initials coming out. It felt so good. Too good. He kept flicking and curling, while you kept tossing and turning, your hips squirming away while your fingers gripped closer, at his fingers, at his hair, anywhere you could find, anywhere you could anchor in.

Muffled sounds mixed in with your cries, as Takasugi kept gushing over you, his saliva and your fluids streaming down your throbbing holes. But the lewd sound of your squelching under his tongue, came only second to the far more obscene expression of his face. He looked so messed up, with his disheveled hair and bandages dropping over his forehead. So messed up that part of you couldn’t help but want to mess him up even further.

You weren’t even thinking straight anymore. Your judgment was completely clouded by primal instincts and sheer pleasure. All you knew was that you wanted him, that you’d spent every breathing moment of your life wanting and yearning for him, even when he’d always been by your side. You wanted to never let go, you wanted to become one with him. Now, and forever.

Your grip on his hair relaxed enough for you to push a loose strip of bandage that blocked his vision behind his ear. He hummed in response, his gratitude pouring in the way his hand held yours ever so lovingly. You tried your best to keep your gaze fixed on his, though the second he slid in one of his fingers, you had no choice but to fall back, your hips solely jerking forward.

You cursed again and again, until no word that made sense came out of your mouth, until the room began to spin, the bright kitchen lights and the buzzing of a bell filled in the void of your eyes. Briefly, you felt him pull out of you, his lips insisting on placing a series of tender kisses along your opening and thighs as if he were the one thanking you.

“Y/N.” The hoarse sound of your name fell on deaf ears. You were too preoccupied with your own bliss to answer him.

“Aren’t you going to get that?” He went on.

“Get… that?” Unwillingly you opened your eyes, completely clueless over what he was talking about.

The ringing had all but ceased inside your head, when you realized it had nothing to do with your orgasm. The cake!

In an instant, you flew to the other side of the kitchen, one hand attempting to piece your outfit together, while the other fumbled around the oven’s buttons. Were you a minute late, the cake would’ve gotten burnt to a crisp, and your entire struggle would’ve been over nothing.

“Couldn’t you handle it?” You protested, throwing a punch in the air as he approached you.

“Hmm? I don’t recall receiving such command.” He smirked, capturing each of your fists in his own before they got the chance to land.

“You!” You grunted and he grinned, finding your annoyed expression infinitely amusing, though perhaps, the funniest thing about this scene was the way a half-naked woman retaliated against him in the middle of a kitchen floor.

Maybe if you saw things from that perspective, you’d also be laughing, but for now, all you were was severely distracted and unsure of how to proceed. Your mind kept telling you to get things in order and finish with your cake’s assembly, while another less prim and proper part of you, kept urging you to jump his bones on the spot. Curse you, Takasugi Shinsuke and your stupidly stupid smile.

“Shall we wrap things up, or will you insist on attacking me?” He asked, his chin still glistening with your juices.

“…Get yourself cleaned up first.” You pulled your hands off him in defeat. There was no point of keeping this up.

After the two of you went back to appearing somewhat presentable, you explained how the cake needed some time to cool down, and how in the meantime, you could prepare additional toppings, such as those strawberries you’d previously located in the refrigerator.

Surprisingly enough, he seemed eager enough to assist without you having to ask. Where knives were involved, he found himself right in his element.

In no time, Takasugi made quick work of the strawberries, slicing them into smaller pieces, while all there was left for you to do was gawk at his broad shoulders. He seemed so focused, that even when you paraded back and forth, even when you forced a dry cough here and there, he paid no mind. Just what were you doing?

“What are you doing?” He read through your mind.

No answer could justify your actions. It was because of you that he’d found himself in this situation, but it was because of him that the insistent sensation between your legs wouldn’t go away. If your thoughts were that easy for him to read, then he’d know firsthand of how you felt right now.

His fingers had no reason to be busied with cutlery and fruit. They belonged around your hips, holding you down, lest you arch your back too high.

Be it against the counter, the table, the floor, or even the sink, you longed to see that familiar glint in his eye, the one he only showed when sheathed deep within your heat. You wanted the only sound in the room to be that of his husky breathing evolving to a singular growl right before he spilled in your guts.

If he could really read your mind, he’d know of all that. He’d know of how much you wanted him and how maddening that was. Screw Yato women, what were you supposed to do about your own frustration?

“You know, we’ll probably be in here a while longer.” You suggested, moving up behind him.

“And?” Amusement dripped of his voice as you rest your chin upon his shoulder.

“And we could have some more fun to ourselves.” Your arms looped around his exposed chest. “We’ve never done it in here before.”

Despite him continuously driving the knife down the cutting board, his pace had slowed down. He could act disinterested all he wanted, but his actions suggested otherwise.

“And?”

“And,” you lowered your hands round his nether area, elated to feel his hardened cock poking at your fingertips. “I can tell I’m not the only one excited by the prospect.”

“And?” He hummed, having let go of the knife.

“And I’m sick of playing games.” Your lips tugged at his earlobe, while you kept on palming him.

“Weren’t you the one who wanted to play house?”

“I was,” you admitted, “but now, I want you.”

“You grow more shameless with each year.” He accused, flaunting the kind of smirk you wanted to bite right off his lips.

“Can you blame me?”

“I guess not.”

One step was all it took for you to be pressed against the counter, the soft sensation of his mouth overriding the sharp edges of the drawers. It felt uncomfortable and rushed, but you couldn’t care less. The way his tongue wet over your bottom lip was enough to soothe the pain, enough to quell the thirst you had for him.

It’d always been like this. Every time Takasugi kissed you, you were brought back to that moonless summer night by the coastline, the place where you’d first gotten taste of each other. It felt as desperate as the sea’s foam clinging to the shore, and as certain as the promise of the incoming tide, liberating and drowning you all at once.

Deft fingers came digging at your waist, barely undoing each garment for him to ravish what was rightfully his. You helped him remove the kimono, though when it came to the apron, he didn’t allow for you to take it off. He loved the sight of you in it, but more importantly, he loved the fantasy of normality that came along, the manifestation of what your lives could have been.

Enveloped in his warm embrace, you took the opportunity to run your fingers over his skin, trailing them down his chest, his abdomen, and eventually, his crotch. He’d been in such hurry to leave that he’d neglected to wear an underwear. It was a wonder he’d never gotten arrested for public indecency, you mentally chuckled, wrapping your fingers around his shaft and then slowly pumping him.

A hand caressed your own, before moving onto your chest, drawing a tit outside the apron’s coverage. His hot breath replaced his fingers as he dipped forward, sucking your nipple right into his mouth. The sensation made your grip tighten, inducing a soft sigh to fall against your skin. He glanced at you, the green in his eye hazy while he moved higher to leave his mark, making sure that today would be more than just a memory to reminisce.

You dragged him closer, driving his cock to your slicked entrance. Playing around was nice, but definitely not as nice as being filled, a sentiment he seemed to share.

Takasugi placed his hands below your thighs, giving you little time to react when he lifted you up. You gasped, quickly knitting your fingers behind his neck to support yourself, while he held you close, shoving your hips together.

“Where to?” He rasped in between heavy breathing.

“Right here.” The second you gave your answer, you pressed your lips against his, unwilling to stray from his touch any longer.

With great care, he sat you atop the counter, his palms prompting your legs to dangle over the edge for him to position himself. You backed away ever so slightly, keen on watching his thumb continuously swipe over the head and your clit up until he allowed your lips to swallow him. You bit a moan back and he smiled, slowly pushing deeper, replacing your neediness with ecstatic pleasure.

“This is much better than Master Sword 69.” You jested, forcing him to shush you with his mouth, lest he let himself laugh at such a horrid joke.

You felt his tongue roll around yours in sync with his hips, the firm sensation of his pubic bone pressuring your clit whenever he slammed his cock inside. You moaned, nibbling at his lips while he grunted, digging his fingers at your hips to push you further against his thrusts. You loved it when he handled you like that, though you both knew he wouldn’t last much at this pace.

Eventually he slowed down, resorting to merely sheathing himself within your folds. He was already throbbing, his seed begging to spill inside your womb. You rocked your hips a tiny bit and he pulled away halfway before sinking back in, unable to truly part from you. Panted breaths mixed in with soft chuckles, the two of you finding great amusement in how naturally your bodies were drawn together, palpitating with desire.

“I can’t believe I’m yours.” You breathed, ghosting your lips over his. “Even after all these years, I can’t believe I was fortunate enough to have met you.”

“Hopefully you got your money’s worth.” He smirked.

“You make it sound as if you are a prostitute.”

Takasugi rolled his eye, returning his attention to your lower half. Even when he was balls deep inside, you couldn’t help but poke fun at him. Getting on his nerves never got old.

Faster than before, his hips snapped against yours, as if he was trying to fuck you into becoming less of a vixen. You paid no mind to that, fully enjoying the way his cock rammed in your sweet spot, until all of a sudden, sharp pain had you yelping. He stopped, a look of concern spreading to his features while you rubbed at the back of your skull. He’d gone so hard that you’d banged your head against the cabinet.

“So clumsy.” He mumbled, guising his mistake as yours.

You were about to complain when he started moving again, only this time, rather than feeling the cold metal boring into your head, you only felt the softness of his palm shielding you from harm.

“Shut up.” He hushed before you had the chance to say a single word.

Not that you really could, either. With how hard he pounded you, the only sounds you could make were whimpers, little by little being driven over the edge.

Stars still flickered past your shut eyelids as you used your last bit of energy to embrace him, propping your chin upon your arm. His hands searched for support against the counter while he began to fall out of rhythm, his thrusts leading to him cumming deep within your walls.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N.” He was still throbbing as he said those three little words, words you never knew how much you longed to hear.

All these birthdays had gone by without a single gift or wish, but even if you could receive any gift, even if you could make any wish, you’d still choose him, you’d still wish for only him. In the end, all those forgotten gifts and wishes amounted to nothing. What was most important to you was right there in your arms. The most precious thing in life, your partner, your lover, your…family.

“Can you keep being my gift?” You asked, nuzzling in his shoulder. “Next year, and the year after that, can I keep asking for you?”

Takasugi spared no answer. Not because he didn’t want to, but because part of him knew there was always a possibility that the very first birthday you’d spent together might as well be the last he’d ever get to celebrate with you. And so he said nothing, choosing to splay his hands over your lower back in a tender motion.

“I don’t want anything other than you. There’s no one else I’d rather share such moments with, so can you please keep on being my present?” You insisted, demanding for a lie he was not too keen on giving.

A sigh heaved up his chest as he slowly moved away from you. “Quit being this mushy.” He mumbled, turning around.

Part of his cum poured down your thighs as you propped yourself against the counter.

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. Maybe you shouldn’t make him commit to a promise he’d be unable to honor, but then again you had a hard time holding back when you loved him this much. The mere idea of spending a birthday on your own gave you goosebumps. It had to be with him. No matter what, he had to be there.

Takasugi returned a minute later with a couple of paper towels in hand. He took in your sour expression, realizing you probably took this short time to reflect upon the future, one you weren’t guaranteed to share.

“You’re such a mess.” He sank to his knees, gently cleaning after the mess he made between your legs.

“As long as I can help it, I promise.”

Following the rather eventful time you spent inside the kitchen, you’d made sure not to leave any traces of your little adventure behind, while he’d made sure to remind you of how easy it’d been for him to claim the key. You didn’t even notice he’d taken it from you until it was time to head out. That sly piece of…

But, you couldn’t complain. Not about his mocking, and not about his refusal to help clean either. The cake turned to be a great success, both in taste and appearance, and you could now finally reap your rewards in the comfort of his bedroom. Bit by bit the platter emptied with only about half the dessert remaining. You hadn’t eaten a single thing all day long, and the unscheduled ‘work-out’ had taken its toll on your poor legs.

Once the two of you finished eating, Takasugi brought forth his shamisen to tune it, while you fished out a piece of paper and a pen to write Sakamoto a letter. There was so much you wanted to tell him. About your trips, the Kiheitai, and of course, about Takasugi.

Outside your letters, Sakamoto never got to hear a word about or from his old friend. You’d seen Takasugi scribble some words, but they never reached his ears. All were torn into confetti.

You knew how much he missed the past. How deep his longing to meet with his friends again ran within his heart and how hard it was for him to express his innermost feelings. You knew all that, and although there was nothing you could do in order to help bridge the gap, letting Sakamoto know of his friend’s well-being wouldn’t harm. Behind his back, or not.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked without lifting head from his instrument.

“Nothing in particular. Just disproving some false claims.” You hid a dry cough behind your fist as you begun to read. “Dear Tatsuma, all’s well here, thanks for asking. I hope your business keeps expanding and you don’t get thrown out in space by Mutsu again. Your gift brought me great joy, but don’t assume I’ll let you win that easily. P.S. Don’t underestimate Shinsuke. He is an incredible lover and really great at-”

Before you could finish reading the supposed letter, Takasugi grabbed it from within your grasp, only to scoff at the lack of ink.

“You are incorrigible” He returned the paper to the table while you chuckled, earning yourself another of his infamous glares.

Rather than picking up the pen, you opted for the spoon, digging back in the remaining piece you’d left in your plate. “It’s true though. You really are an incredible lover and great at cooking.” You swallowed. “You know, it’s not too late to change career, Shinsuke.”

He shrugged, tightening and then striking one of the strings. “I’ll consider leaving the world with just a stove.”

“So what did you think of today? What was it like to make something from scratch?”

“Harder than watching Zura make onigiri.”

You laughed and he smiled just a little bit, the sound of his playing as mellow as his features.

“You’d rather just sit back and watch?”

He nodded, first setting his tuner and then his shamisen to the side. An invitation for you to scoot closer, one that you gracefully accepted by laying your head against his shoulder. For someone who lifted such a heavy burden, he surely felt lightweight as a pillow.

“Let’s just say I wouldn’t mind seeing you in an apron more often.” Takasugi said, picking up his own plate. He was never big on sweets, but he’d at the very least eaten half of what you’d served.

“Makes you resemble a proper housewife.” He smirked after shoving a bite.

“Calling me a housewife when you haven’t even put a ring on my finger.”

Your joke failed to land any chuckles apart from your own. If anything, it had the opposite effect on him, with his expression instantly turning sour.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that-”

“Except you did.” He sighed, dropping the plate along with the spoon back on the table, while you sat up to look at him.

“Y/N, I’ve halfed-assed many things in life, us included. Years later, and I still don’t know how to do this properly. But what I do know is that when we share a bed together, when we share what little’s left of our souls with one another, when we share a life, then that makes us as good as married, does it not?”

At the sound of his words, you felt your cheeks radiating with heat. How could he speak in such nonchalant way? He’d never called you so much as a girlfriend or a partner, and now went around addressing you as a wife? His wife?

“What? Scared to be called a terrorist’s wife?” Takasugi taunted.

“Terrorist? What terrorist?” You brought a hand onto your forehead, pretending to look around. “I see nothing but a samurai, and that would make me into a samurai’s wife.”

Your answer seemed to satisfy him enough to crack a smile, one that you eagerly returned.

“An idiot, a terrorist, and a samurai. I’ve been called all three in just one day.” He absently trailed over your fingers with his own.

“Only an idiotic samurai could ever turn to terrorism. To me, Shinsuke, you are the same boy I met back then. The one who’s unafraid to raise his sword in the name of a lost cause.”

You meant to assure him, but he only ended up snickering in amusement.

“I really haven’t changed, have I?”

“Not at all.” You expressed with a nod of your head. “But If I may say so myself, you’ve gotten a tad grumpier. It’s as if your grumpiness increases with each passing year.”

His amusement turned to irritation in a moment’s notice, though that did not dishearten you from making further comments. It was always amusing to see how far his tolerance would reach, but when he finally boiled over, your sounds turned muffled.

“Shut up and eat the damn cake already.” Takasugi huffed, having shoved a spoonful of cake in between your parted lips.

Once he felt you swallowing, he pulled his hand away, only for your mouth to follow it, seeking to be fed again. He glared and you insisted, drawing out a long ��A’ sound until he caved in.

“Such a lousy wife.”

The next morning found you alone in bed, with Takasugi having seemingly disappeared from your side. This was hardly unlike him. Come morning light, he always had this tendency of running off with Bansai, handling the kind of issues you failed to wrap your head around. Can’t be helped.

Your eyes shut once more, refusing to open up just yet. It was so early and there was nothing for you to do, other than to spend another dull day in space. Or at least, that’s what you thought until you stretched your hand onto the pillow beside you, your fingers meeting with the cold roundness of a foreign object; a ring of gold.

“Such a lousy husband.” You exclaimed with a smile brighter than the sun itself.

#takasugi x reader #takasugi shinsuke x reader #takasugi shinsuke oneshot #takasugi shinsuke fanfiction #takasugi #takasugi smut #gintama #gintama smut #gintama fanfiction #gintama oneshot #ginama imagine #takasugi imagine #takasugi reader #takasugi gintama #takasugi shinsuke

60 notes · View notes

autumnalwalker · 2 years

Text

Untitled Solarpunk Witch draft, chapter 1.1

Spring, Week 1, Seven of Cups

“The artist was on stilts the first time I saw her. Watching her leisurely pick her way across the marsh toward town, I kept thinking that oversized backpack of hers was going to tip her over at any moment. Even from a distance you could make out the green tinge to her skin heralding her ancestry from last century’s ill-fated human photosynthesis experiments.”

Breaking my gaze from the approaching figure I turn back to the group I’ve been meeting with for the past three days to brainstorm solutions for containing and/or preventing any further spillage when we go to move the drone. We’re all on a shaded open-air platform that the village uses as a public space.

“Who is that?” I ask, causing a couple of the others who hadn’t noticed yet to break off their conversation on bio-synthesized barrier permeability and look up.

Luanna, the de facto coordinator of our little circle shades her eyes with one hand as she looks out at the stiltwalker. “No idea. Never seen them before.”

A murmuring of similar answers from everyone else follows as she cocks her head for a moment in thought before turning around, clapping her hands once and declaring more loudly “Alright everyone, this has been good so far. Let’s take an hour break and meet back up here. In the meantime I’m going to go greet our new guest. If I’m not back by then, continue on without me.”

Some of us get up and start walking to the nearest bridge. Others stay and return to their ongoing conversations, not wanting to lose their trains of thought. As for me, I find myself staring at the newcomer again for a moment until Luanna gets my attention.

“Hey, wanna come with?” she asks, gesturing at the stiltwalker.

I blink for a moment as I realize she’s talking to me. “Oh, yeah, of course. Thanks. Bast(et)?”

I’m coming. She gets up from where she’s been sunning herself for a bit of extra charge and stretches before following along.

Luanna looks over her shoulder at Bast(et) padding along the bridge behind us and raises a quizzical eyebrow. “Does it actually need to stretch like that? I didn’t think a robot would get stiff from lying down.”

I’m not a robot.

“She, not ‘it’. And, just so you know, AI’s don’t tend to like being called robots. Apparently the word originally meant ‘slave’ or ‘forced labor’ or something like that.”

“Sorry about that, I guess?”

“I’m not the one to apologize to.” I jerk my head in Bast(et)’s direction.

Luanna looks back at Bast(et). “My apologies. Didn’t mean to offend.”

Bast(et) lets out a meow. Good enough.

“Apology accepted.” I translate.

We cross two more housing platforms with residents tending to their wall gardens and greeting Luanna as we pass by. As we reach the ramp leading down to the docks she breaks the conversational pause.

“So… what should I call them?”

“Assuming, you specifically mean AI’s with bodies, ‘familiars’ generally works since they pretty much always have a witch. ‘Automata’ works too if you want to get formal about it. Oh, but to answer your original question about the stretching thing… Bast(et), what was it you told me that one time?”

Engaging in nonessential biomimicry increases empathy in both directions. It assists with immersion in analog space and puts humans at ease to see our chosen forms behave in - if you’ll pardon the pun - familiar ways.

“Mind if I paraphrase that?”

I expect it by now.

“Basically, she enjoys it and humans like seeing a cat-shaped familiar do cat things.”

By now Luanna’s finished unmooring one of the shared rafts that get more day-to-day use than the airboat. “I’ll take your word for it.” She picks up the long steering pole and beckons me over. “All aboard.”

Bast(et) and I step onto the raft; perhaps a longer stretch of a step than was necessary but I’m not sure how stable it is and I don’t want to dip the edge down. A moment later I’m catching my balance all over again as Luanna pushes off the marsh bed to set the raft in motion.

A chuckle from Luanna. “First time?”

I rub the back of my neck and avoid eye contact as I give her a sheepish “Yeah…”

Her smile fades as we pass out from the shade beneath the village and out into the noonday sun of the treeless marsh. “In all seriousness though, I asked you to come with me for a reason. As much as we all like to assume best intentions, you never really know with strangers. Hope for the best, be prepared for the worst, as they say. I’m hoping having a witch at hand might discourage them from starting anything.”

“You know we don’t actually put hexes on people or shoot lightning from our wands, right?”

She nods. “I might, but you’d be surprised how many folks don’t.”

“I can’t say I like being used as a threat, but your village, your call.”

“I’m not asking you to be overt about it. Just be… present. I’ll handle the talking.”

By this time we’ve reached the stiltwalking traveler. She’d stopped walking and was no longer on top of the stilts, having now relocated to a platform halfway down one stilt where she sits with her back to us. Her oversized backpack dangles from atop the other stilt. I have no idea how she’s keeping them both upright, but I’m impressed.

“Hey there, stranger!” Luanna calls out with a wave.

Said stranger looks over her shoulder, gives us a shushing finger-to-lips and then points with a pencil toward a blue heron a short distance away.

I look at Luanna and shrug. As she pushes us closer I can see that the woman is writing in a book of some sort. No, wait, drawing. She’s partway through what to my untrained eye looks to be a fairly detailed rendering of the heron. Luanna stops us just short of bumping into the stilts and I lean around to get a better look at the sketchbook.

You’re staring.

“At the art, not her skin.”

It’s easy to see why someone would though. The artist herself was covered in what were essentially green-tinged freckles, running up and down her bare arms and legs.

I recall reading about this. Some Reconfiguration era gene-tech group got the idea to engineer humans capable of photosynthesis. For a variety of reasons, some ethical, some practical, some fear-based, the project got shut down but not before producing a whole host of tube-born green infants and toddlers in need of homes. Those kids grew up and had kids and grandkids of their own. The green turned out to be a fairly recessive host of traits, but every now and then it crops back up.

As I watch, the artist completes a more hasty sketch of the rest of the bird and a rough outline of the surrounding patch of marsh before closing the sketchbook and swiveling around on her platform to face us. Sitting down as she is, she’s a bit below eye level.

“Thanks for waiting. I hadn’t managed to get this close to one of those before and I didn’t want to scare it off. Name’s Ursula.” She sticks out hand.

Luanna hands me the raft pole steps forward to shake Ursula’s hand before I manage to do so myself. “Luanna. Welcome to Zello.” She gestures toward me. “And this is our resident witch.”

I take the cue to smile and wave. “Nice to meet you.”

“I figured you must be with the hat and all. I haven’t seen one in a while, but it’s always a pleasure.” She looks around for a moment before locking eyes on Bast(et). “And you must be the familiar! What’s your name?”

“That would be Bast(et),” I answer for her.

Ursula bends down as much as her seated position will allow, tipping the stilt unnervingly and reaches down a hand, open palm up. “Nice to meet you Bastet.”

Bast(et) walks over, puts a paw on the offered hand and gives a meow. I like her. Even if she gets my name wrong.

“She says you’re pronouncing it wrong, but she likes you anyway.”

“Bastet?”

“Bast(et).”

MG preserve me, not this conversation again.

“Bast Et?”

“No, now there’s too much of a pause. There's parentheses around the ‘et’.”

I appreciate your concern, but we don’t have to do this every time.

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Uh, think of it like it’s hyphenated. Or apostrophe’d.”

That said, is it really that hard for humans to pronounce?

“Bast-et?”

Close enough.

“Close enough.”

Luanna coughs, getting our collective attention. “Aaanyway… Miss Ursula, I hope you don’t mind my asking what brings you here.”

“Oh me? I’m just a wandering artist. I arrived at the coast down south a couple months back and I’ve been working my way up north since, drawing what I see as I go. Painting a bit too when I can find the space for it.”

“And you’re planning on staying here for a while, I take it?”

“If you’ll have me. At least until I get the urge to move on again. And I can pull my own weight while I’m here if that’s a concern. I’m no stranger to odd jobs.”

“As long as you’re respectful and don’t cause trouble, we can’t ask for much more than that. Follow us into town and I’ll give you the tour. Introduce you to some folks.”

“Thanks, you won’t regret it. Just give me a minute.”

While we watch Ursula climb the stilts, retrieve her backpack and start strapping in, Luanna leans over to me and whispers, “She seems harmless enough. What do you think?”

I keep my eyes on the wandering, watching her unlatch and relatch some kind of mechanism on one of the stilts, folding up the platform she’d been sitting on and letting her move that leg. “I like her,” I reply.

Bast(et) makes the sneezing noise that she’s mapped as the feline analogue to a snicker.

“What?”

You’re staring again.

“They’re neat stilts.”

Right…

*******

Over the next hour or two Luanna leads us on the tour of Zello that Bast(et) and I somehow missed out on with all the excitement over the drone. She tells us that the village grew and expanded organically over time, so there’s no real central planning to the layout. The houses and public spaces are all situated atop modular platforms, connected by bridges that can be retracted and pulled up when the hurricanes hit. The same goes for the hanging mirrors that keep the understory lit during the day. Useful for keeping the plants they use for waste treatment healthy, she tells us. I make a note to examine that system in more detail later. I’m sure the order would be interested in that sort of thing.

Centrally planned or not, it’s hard not to notice a few patterns emerge. The main one being the tendency for the house platforms to cluster in loose bubbles around the public platforms. Neighborhoods I guess you could call them. Usually it’s some sort of community garden or just an open space like the one we were using earlier, but where they’ve got the more specialized buildings - the clinic, the maker space, the computer workshop, and what have you - the pattern holds.

As for the introductions Luanna mentioned earlier, that mostly ends up being just to whomever we happen to run into along the way. There’s no one really “in charge” around here that newcomers “have to” meet. The closest thing they seem to have to that is the handful of individuals like Travis and Luanna herself who happen to have a talent for getting everyone coordinated and organized when something big comes up. Likewise, save for a few notable exceptions like the village doctor, most everyone here is a generalist of sorts, able to do a little bit of everything that needs done to keep Zello going, whether that’s gardening, solar panel maintenance, or tending the fisheries outside town. Not to say that there aren’t specialists who have a passion for a particular area or do things beyond simple subsistence, just that no one is more particularly “need to know” than anyone else. Luanna calls it a tradition from the Collapse days (what I surmise the order would call late Corp or early Reconfiguration) when they couldn’t afford to have any individual be irreplaceable.

*******

“And that’s Zello for you,” Luanna says to us, hands on hips. I get the impression this isn’t the first, or even second, time she’s taken on the role of tour guide. “One last bit of business though if you're going to be staying for a time, miss Ursula. We don’t have any empty housing, so we’re going to need to find someone willing to take you in while you’re here.”

“No need to bother yourselves on my account.” Ursuala pats the bulging side of her backpack. “Just give me a spot to set up a hammock and a tarp if it rains and I can sleep most anywhere. I might want a shower I can borrow every now and then though.”

“You can use mine,” I volunteer. “It’s not like I own the place or anything. If you’d shown up a week earlier our positions would be reversed right now.”

“Wait - I mean thanks - but aren’t you the village witch?”

I shrug and tilt my head. “Eh, not technically. I just got here a few days ago myself to help with an issue that popped up with some old Corp tech that was buried out in the marsh. I’m about as new here as you are.”

“Well in that case…” Ursula slaps me on the back. “New neighbors slash roomies it is!”

No consulting the familiar in this?

“You said you liked her.”

I’m just teasing. This should be entertaining.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

And that is what makes it entertaining.

Our silent dialogue is interrupted by another attention-grabbing cough from Luanna, reminding us once again that she’s still there. “Aaanyway… If that’s all settled, I’ll leave you two to it. You know where I live now if you need anything. Just please don’t go driving nails into the platforms with that hammock of yours. Have a good evening.”

Ursula and I thank her in approximate unison.

“So, about that shower…”

*******

I’m sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of my cauldron, configuring it for a simulation of the some of the containment material options we were discussing at the meeting earlier when Bast(et)’s voice interrupts my concentration.

Oh look. Now she’s staring.

I look up to find Ursula in a change of clothes, damp hair already pulled back into a ponytail, leaning on the kitchen counter, staring at me. Staring and sketching.

She registers that I’ve noticed her and snaps the sketchbook closed. “Sorry, sorry! I should have asked first. But it’s not every day you get to see a witch at work and you were holding so still it was the perfect opportunity. Too much time alone in the woods I guess. Or swamp more lately. And I’m talking too much aren’t I?”

“It’s fine. Not like I was doing anything secret or embarrassing.” I pause for a moment. “Can I see it?”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” She sits down next to me and Bast(et) and opens the sketchbook on the floor between us to a charcoal rendering of me and Bast(et) staring at the cauldron, my hat beside me on the floor, grimoire balanced on my knee.

“Oh wow. This is pretty good.”

You’re easily impressed.

“And you’re an art snob.” I look back up at Ursula. “Sorry, not you.”

She laughs and says “I figured as much.”

“Mind if I look at the rest?”

“Help yourself.”

We spend probably the next hour or so, going backwards through what amounts to a visual travel log. The heron from earlier. A crab. A close up of a beach sunflower. Drowned buildings sticking out of the water on the coast and covered in vines. Another swamp, this one with more trees. An alligator. A mangrove forest. As much as she seems to favor nature, there are human subjects too. Individuals and crowds. Village squares and town centers. An old city vertical farm and an arcology air dock. And another witch with her familiar. Just about every one I ask about Ursala has an anecdote for.

“So, this is what you do? Travel the world, drawing what you see?”

“Preeetty much,” she says as she stretches and adjusts her position. “I paint too, but that tends to be harder to take with me so I just leave it with someone whenever I move on. Same with the sketchbooks when they get full. No way I could carry it all with me at once, and maybe this way it might inspire someone else to travel. Or at least remind them that there’s a world outside their local community.”

“That’s… so… cool!”

Ursula laughs. “I guess it kind of is, isn’t it? Don’t get me wrong, it’s not all fun and games and I’ve been hungry, cold, sick, and scared more times than I care to admit, but I don’t think I’d trade it for anything.

But what about you? I mean, you’re a witch. Flying all over. Solving people’s problems. Getting in touch with nature. I’m sure you must have seen tons of cool places.”

I catch myself rubbing the back of my neck again. “Eh, it’s not really like that. Sure, I apprenticed in a few different places over my training - immersed in the local culture, got to know the people and all that - but now that I’ve finished training I’m expected to find a place I’m willing to settle down in long-term within a year or so. I mean, the one year thing is just tradition and no one’s going to come out and force me to stay put at the end of it, but you hit two or three years without finding a community to be a part of and it starts raising concerns.” I sit up straight and raise a finger in the air. “‘A tree cannot grow without putting down roots,’ as one of my teachers always liked to put it.”

“Huh, I never really thought of it that way.”

“Most people don’t. And I’m fine with it. It’s what I signed up for.” I look down at my hands. “I just worry sometimes about the ‘becoming a fixture of the community’ part. I tend to be better at interfacing with tech than interacting with other humans.”

“Well, if you ask me, you’re doing alright now.”

“Just one person at a time’s different. Four or five relationships per context is about my limit, and one of those is already reserved for Bast(et). Any more than that is just… exhausting.”

“Can’t say I’ve got any advice there. One of the downsides to staying moving all the time.”

“It’s fine. I figure that’s the ‘growing’ part that comes with the putting down roots. I’ll get it eventually.”

*******

It’s later and I’m getting ready for bed. Ursula left to go set up her hammock outside a while ago.

“You’ve been quiet,” I say to Bast(et).

You rarely open up like that. I didn’t want to ruin the moment.

#my writing #old writing #rough draft #solarpunk #witch #Untitled Solarpunk Witch Story #Village Witch #journaling game writing

10 notes · View notes

savorysatori · 3 years

Text

— 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘. ✗

“choke me, spank me, look at me, thank me.”

— sypnosis: working as a maid in a new house is very exciting, you get the money and everything goes well. although, once you’re introduced to the son of the parents, everything goes down hill.

cw, warning: size kink (?), creep!ushi, pictures without consent, nipple play, gn!reader, non-con, somnophilia, sloppy sex, dry humping, praise, panty stealer ushi.

% wc: 2234.

↷ a/n: y’all have no idea how long this was sitting in my drafts, for fucking 5 weeks plsssss- anyways I hope you all enjoy! this was rlly fun to do. also! shoutout to daisy, this collab was really cool! congratulations on 1K bb. <//3

— @daisy-bakugo, PORNSCAPE EVENT! ilyy.

You were everything he wanted, everything he fantasized about.

[1,000.]

That’s how much they were paying.

It was enough to have you accept the job immediately. It was enough to have you choose between two of the slightly revealing maid dresses and enough for you to be standing in front of the wakatoshi mansion. Briefcase in hand with a bucket of supplies you were instructed to bring. Everything was just right, you were prepared to clean, everything would go well.

The frilly material of the skirt swayed around your thighs and glided against the softness of your thigh-highs. Glistening jewels of your gold bracelets glimmering in the hot sun shining down on your skin. The thin line of thread held up the damp clothes, shredding any of the excess water soaked into them. All of the Wakatoshi’s clothing were fancy. Gold lining stitched in the middle or at the end of the cloth, it was clear they were wealthy. But, it somehow amazed you when your eyes glided to the very end of the line — some shirts & shorts were childlike. Pictures of guns and cars were painted onto a black shirt, it looked like something a 5th grader would do. ‘Maybe they had a child?’ You didn’t know, you only met the parents. Folding up the dry ones, you’d stuff them into the cart and push them towards the other line of clothes swishing in the breezy wind.

You finished doing the daily chores, slipping into their kitchen that was designed well with a beautiful interior. Cold marble was felt up against your skin as you tipped the bottle of wine into your glass, clacking against it. Your glossy lips propped up against the cup and took small sips of the fruity flavor. It slid down your throat and surged a zing of bitterness back up to take in the taste, so sweet and yet so unpleasant at the same time. You’d lick the juice off your lips and place it down steadily on the counter, looking up to see a heady gaze sharped on you.

6’2 and steady build towering over you with dark olive hair — was the wakatoshi’s son. Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Your body stayed still, unmoving. He wasn’t anywhere near a 3rd grader - more like a full grown adult. Tongue peeking out from your teeth to lick the dryness seeping between the cracks, your eyelids hooded.

“Uh- Hello! You must the wakatoshi’s son, I’m the new maid.” Extending your hand out to meet his; his hand stayed at his side, not seeming to shift to engulf yours. You’d drop it back beside you and nipped at your lip when the silence between you both continued.

“Well, I’ll see you around. Nice to meet you.. Ushijima! Your parents told me about you.”

You’d excuse yourself away from his intimidating gaze and close the door behind you. Maybe it’s a good idea to introduce myself another time.

The same look from before followed you out of the kitchen, watching you as you’d take up the laundry basket. His eyes kept gawking at your every move. Staring with every bit of emotion nobody could decipher, Toshi wasn’t a very talkative man and it was visible. He situated himself in the shadows and looked from above, staying out of any scandals his parents were exposed to. He did keep his eye on you. Stepping out of his secure area and making every note to try and approach you without seeming like a creep. His creep intentions did creep up back into his system when you started staying at his house, sleeping in a guest room 8 feet away from his room. It was easy; so easy to sneak into it when the moon raised in the dead of night.

Soft thuds of his feet against the carpet thankfully didn’t alert anyone, giving him the time to steal peeps at your sleeping state. Comforter pulled up. Oversized shirt to cover up the intimate parts of your body he dearly wanted to explore. Soft breaths left your pink lips to breathe it in again, his cock stirring at the sound of it. Toshi knew what was right from wrong, he knew that doing something like this would cost his life — but, dear god you were everything he dreamed of. He couldn’t stop now.

His calloused hands raised the shirt for him to be able to see your tummy, sliding his fingers down to the waistband of your panties. They were so simple and adorned your skin beautifully, keeping the heat between your legs warm just for him. His free hand unzipped his jeans and let them pool at his ankles, such as his boxers. You stirred slightly at the foreign touch, brows creasing forward. He stilled until you relaxed back into slumber, his fingers separated your thighs, and slowly slid the oozing head of his cock between them.

“Ah, princess, f-fuuck.” breath ragged, eyes shut closed to take in the bliss. Contentment streamed through him, his hips rocking against you to feel more, more of you. He was greedy. Toshi was insatiable, he wanted everything of you. He didn’t just want — he needed you. It was a plea. A whine for you, a need. The selfishness ran through his family, that’s how he inherited it. From his family. Was he ashamed? No. Not when you felt so good right now, not when he was about to reach the orgasm he was climbing to.

Sweat fanned down his toned chest, abs glistening with droplets of precipitation. His hips rocked forward one last time, cum spurting from his head and between the soft flesh of your thighs. It was sticky and slimy, rolling down to cover every little spot.

The sight of you sleeping soundly while his cum leaked from between your thighs, made the flaccid touch of his cock stir. You were just so pretty, a pretty little something he wanted to scoop up for himself. And he would do it with no trouble whatsoever. His hand slid down to grab his phone from the floor, lying face down. Toshi aimed right in the frame, snapping a picture for later. He stuffed it into the back pocket of his jeans and scurried away from your room, not bothering to clean up the mess of his dry cum smeared on you.

Pressing the ‘start’ button you watched the clothes in the machine swirl with bubbles of soap clouding over them. One hand on the machine and knocking it occasionally to make it turn on again. “Barely working.” You’d mutter.

Despite the Wakatoshi’s being filthy rich, their laundry room wasn’t at all cooperative. There were brown pieces of wood peeling off the wall with stains of what seemed to look like dry substance splattered on it. A bunch of plastic bags and socks were pushed to the corner of the room, dirty ones to be exact. Not much laid in the room other than the things you had listed — except for the posters of lewd manga hanging from the cluttered shelves.

The cool air of the basement door opening brushed up against you, your eyes drifting to see who it was. Standing there was Toshi. He was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday. His expression was the same as always, stern and uninterested. You were both met with the silence from yesterday, uneasiness creeping up back to you.

Bothering not to talk, you turned back to the machine to see it at twenty-one minutes. It was almost done and you could leave to wrench away from the awkward silence you were sitting in. You could still feel his presence, you knew he was there and it was uncomfortable. So many questions were left unanswered in your head, you couldn’t understand them.

The back of your skirt was flipped up to meet your back, his clothed length pressed against you. He was hard. There was no doubt he wasn’t big, and that was what made your eye sockets almost swell out. He slowly rocked the fabric of your panties along with his bulge. Fingernails digging into your hip and pushing you up more to gain more access and spread your legs.

“Ushijima-“ words of confusion scrabbled out from your mouth quickly, “w-what are you doing?”

“Shh.” He jabbed the curve of your back and made you lay pressed against the cold exterior of the rattling washing machine. His words flustered you, it provoked you to stay quiet. You had never heard his voice before and a situation like this only shook your brain into a deeper hole of complication. “J-Just — let me do this, let me try it out. Once.”

And you did. You let him try it just once, you let him delude into the fantasy he had been dreaming of. You let him do it. Once.

You calmed down from the aftershock of his tongue sending you to see stars, arms jerking when the feeling of his hot touch pressing your face against the door of the machine. Your fingers tightening around the handle and pulling on it slightly, cheeks swelling up with heat. The sounds of your whimpers and tiny jolts sent him to push along more, arm encircling around your stomach, his voice breathy against the shell of your ear. You were like a succubus, a being he couldn’t leave nor escape, so alluring, sweet and he had just met you not too long ago.

The smack of his cock meeting his stomach caused you to crank your head back, looking over to see a beautiful sight. Ushijima’s cock was thick, curving gently upwards. The skin was a light shade of cream, and the head was large, pink, expanding tip. “Ushi-“ your voice was wavery, unsure paring with it.

He’d shush you again, angling your leg up as his lips pressed a kiss to your glistening cunt. Toshi took notice of your expressions when he slid into the warmth delves; brows creased together and little words scampering out from your lips. Latching onto the handle and pulling it ever so often when he hit a certain spot, whenever the tip of his cock caressed against your cervix- it was so beautiful seeing you be reduced to a quivering, blubbering mess. A surreal sight he would only see.

“You’re so damn tight. So wet, so willing.. just like that baby.” The pump of his hips made you lose yourself over and over again, a mixture of sounds that were all kinds of slobbery and slurred due to your dizziness. His pace picked up with renewed energy, slick and wet sounds fill the air, sweaty bodies clamping against each other. The whines and pants of his name being drowned out, so pathetic- clinging to the latch and crumbling under his touch. It drove him like a mad man, his brain clattering, the way you took him in with no problem amazed him, you were so inviting and supple.

“S’too b-big! Ushi- ah! -“

The whines of him being too big impaled itself into his brain, your shivering body and cunt wrapped around all together had already made him blank out, now with your pleas, it caused a switch in his head to flip and jack-hammer himself into you. Pump after pump. It made your eyelashes flutter with droplets of tears risking to stream down the fat of your cheeks. His hands holding you firmly, brows furrowed with grunts flowing into your right ear. A grunt rippled from him as his cock throbbed harshly inside you, the feeling making him come undone right there.

“Just like that, ah, fuck you make me feel so good.”

Wrinkled skirt falling to the floor, his cock pulling out of you slowly with globs of cum dribbling out of you, he’d shuffle around till you faced him fully now with a perplexed look on your face. The shirt becoming loose as Toshi’s lips wrapped around the sensitive nipple, suckling and easing any leftover moans out from your throat. His hands placing you on the machine and attaching his lips back onto your nipple, tongue flat against your sweaty skin.

“Fuck, U-Ushi! holy- fuck, just like that.” Your back straining as you leaned back, gasping and threading your fingers through his hair to balance. Toshi wasn’t one with words, his statue being quiet and still. But, words poured out from his lips at the sound of your moans, when you were so good for him.

“So, good.. pretty. pretty, like a beauty.” He pulled off of it with a squelch, standing up high and cupping your chin to stare in your love drunk eyes. “You were so good for me, yeah?”

You nodded, vision hazy and eyes occasionally blinking to peer up at him with a blurry image. Your head rested in the crook of his neck, sniffling as he picked up the soiled panties from the floor and stuffed them into his back pocket. They were red and pink, swirly designs on them, he found them so cute. He slid your legs around him and walked out of the room, leaving the washing machine to rattle in the background with soap and water overflowing onto the ground.

Ushijima just couldn’t leave you after that day, he stuck to you like glue. Who could blame him? You were everything he wanted, everything he had fantasized about.

#ushijima x reader #ushijima smut #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #pornscape collab!!👒#cw noncon #cw somnophilia #cw size kink

1K notes · View notes

crazy-bi-btch · 4 years

Text

Exploring ( Sweet Pea X Reader)

Summary: Sweet Pea and Y/n have a dirty secret that can lead to trouble.

Paring: Sweet Pea X Reader

Warning: NSFW, MA, smutttt like alottt, light BDSM

Word count: 5k

A/N: Okay so this was a request from a long time ago and i like how it started so I want to make a second part to it! Hope yall like it!

-Present time-

“ We need to talk!” Cheryl grabbed my arm, pulling me into the nearest empty classroom. I flinched as she pressed on the fresh bruise. Her eyes widened, “ Take the jacket off!”

I sneered, “ Damn, Cheryl— don’t think Toni would like that.” She glared at me and I caved in. That's it. Our secret will be brought out by Ms. Cheryl blossom. I told Sweet Pea, not to leave a noticeable mark. But of course, this is Sweat Pea I’m talking about. Shit. I annoyingly took my serpent coat off and Cheryl’s eyes widened and a small gasp left the poor girl.

Now how the hell do I tell her that the serpent that is the most trouble in the gang is secretly fucking me behind everyone’s back.

“ Jesus! Y/n What the actual—”

“ I can explain.” I rush over to her to coax her from making a big fuss. She was furious. I mean she’s the biggest feminist I know beside Betty and Veronica.

“ Did the ghoulies do this to you! WHO DID THIS! IS THIS THE BOY—” I clamped my hand over her loud ass mouth.

“Shhh!” She mumbled under my mouth and rolled her eyes crossing her arms.

“ No one beat me up! It’s this boy—”

“Is he hurting you because I can send some serpents, his way!” She practically stomped, her frown very visible. I sheepishly remembered every single bruise and mark and how they were made.

“ It’s...a sex...thing” I mumbled avoiding her glare, she clearly couldn’t hear me.

“Huh?” Her arms crossed and an annoyed face pressuring me to spill my truth.

“ God dammit Cheryl I’m having kinky sex..” I whisper-shouted, a blush invading me as I heard myself admit it.

She looked like she was about to faint. “ That-” she pointed wide-eyed, I nodded, pulling the coat over my bruised arms. She turned around, rubbing her temples.

“ With who? And what the hell is wrong with you! It looks so-” I cocked my eyebrow at her

“Painful?”

“ YES!” She exclaimed concerned, I giggled softly.

“ Don’t kink shame me Cheryl Blossom because I know damn well you and Toni go all 50 shades of gray.” She blushed but was ready to counterattack like always.

“ But I don’t bruise her— visibly!” She pointed out again, I sighed and hugged her.

“ Look, I know you’re concerned… but I’m fine... We have a safeword and it's fun!” I reassured her as she hugged back.

“ Okay… I trust you! But I don’t know about him. Who is he?” She asked, furrowing her eyebrows at me. I smirked at her.

“ That’s a secret I’ll never tell..” I giggled and ran out the classroom, but not before hearing her classic groan of annoyance.

-48 hours before-

Saturday. It was finally here! Your phone rang, waking you up from your deep slumber.

“Fuckkk…” I groaned, half asleep as I blindly looked for my annoying phone.” Hello.”

“Hey.” My stomach flipped and my eyes shot open. Sweet Pea.

“ Hey.” I smiled softly as his voice gave me the energy and brightness enough for the day. Then I realized, today is our ‘appointment’.

“ Just decided to call you and let you know I’m excited for today.” The smirk in his voice is practically oozing. I rolled my eyes playfully.

“ Oh really? What is so special today?” I acted coy with a hint of playfulness, his demeanor fell as his voice cracked.

“ Don’t play with me y/n.” He hissed softly into the phone, it sent a shock straight to my core. I bit my lip.

“ Sorry Pea...I can’t meet with you today. I have another meeting with someone else tonight.” I teased, laying back into my pillows like a cliche teenage girl in a teen-drama movie.

He groaned, clearly angry, “ Who the fuck….— In a minute Fangs! I swear to god y/n if your fucking someone else.”

“ Yeah I am….and he takes very good care of me… he’s my daddy..” I edged him even more, the game suddenly starting now. The small sigh and chuckle that he released gave my heart a kick. He was jealous.

“ He sure does huh?” He teased his voice suddenly deeper and lower. “ I have a surprise for you tonight. More like a gift.” Then the background noise became more noticeable.

“ Oh really?” I questioned—suddenly curious, he then changed the subject signaling Fangs and the others were around.

“ Yes, Doug, 6:00pm I know! You and your stupid stash. See you then.” Sweet Pea gloated with laughs of the boys echoing through,” You better pay up a little more than last time.” The last part was definitely for me. Then he hung up.

I squealed in excitement as I tossed and turned in bed. It sucked being friends with benefits, in secret may I add. It’s extremely hard and exhausting, but we knew that. We both found that in sex we weren’t getting what we wanted. We weren’t fulfilled. So on a drunk night as we were the last up in the trailer as everyone else was passed out drunk. We played a stupid game.

Flashback

“ Never have I ever faked an orgasm.” Sweet Pea slurred, laughing at nothing, barely able to sit still.

“ Shhh! Be quiet! Umm… Yes I have!” I stifled a giggle as my finger fell from the rest that were propped up.

“Ohh I want to know!” He teased taking another swing of his beer. I pretended to zip my mouth and throw the key making us laugh.

“ My turn, Never have I ever wanted to try something new in bed.” I giggled like a 13 year old as I slurred it out. Pea shrugged and put his finger down. I exaggerated a gasp pointing at his finger.

“ Sweet Pea is kinky!” I laughed but shushed myself.(Very drunk may I add) “ Me too!” I exclaimed. And we both fell silent as we both stared at our 3 fingers remaining up.

“Never Have I ever wanted to be tied up during sex.” His voice serious and dark. And I was suddenly quiet. 2 fingers were left.

“ Never have I ever wanted her to call me daddy.” I sighed out, praying for him to drop a finger. If not then that would be embarrassing. But his finger fell.

“Never Have I ever wanted to be choked.” His signature smirk came out as he realized his power over me now. I was left with one finger. I gulped.

“ Never Have I ever wanted to fuck my bestfriend.” I croaked out, both of our expressions falling. His finger fell. “ We’re tied.” I sighed as I stared at his lips. He gulped and put his hand down, ending the game. Our eyes say everything. We wanted this….bad.

In an instant we both crawled toward each other meeting in a fiery kiss, breaking the innocent friendship we had and entering a whole new dimension.

End flashback

We snuck around, doing all of our deepest fantasies. We were exploring our sexual fantasies. BDSM, nothing bad with that right? Except that it was ruining our friendships around us. We were lying to them. Making them believe we have suddenly become enemies. That we couldn’t stand each other in public, at times hurting each other's feelings.

My trailer was farther to the sides from our friends trailer which made it easy for Sweet Pea to come to me. Plus, I had to put soundproof padding in my trailer room, my excuse for when friends came over. “I’m working on my singing career from home.” They believed it.

Boys were too afraid to hurt me, or not be hard enough. But Sweet Pea… He lived for that. We fit perfectly.

I finally decided all that overthinking and reminiscing was not gonna keep me as excited. Unless, I looked for the old iphone in my drawer where we kept our...videos. We filmed moments but only on this old phone and it NEVER leaves my drawer. We vowed it was for us but mostly for me when things happen and we can’t meet up.

I logged into it, opening the photos and started looking through all the different videos. One was that one time on Valentine’s day when he got me a new toy. It was cute and simple, but the ribbon that tied the box was long enough for my wrist to tied together also. That night was rough, safeword was used once because he didn’t let me come for the 4th time! The way he degraded and fucked my on camera seemed to always trigger those vivid memories for moments like these.

Just as I was about to pull my pants down and ease my ache, my phone dang—cutting my mood.

SP: Red or Blue?

That was a strange message.

Y/n: Red? Why

SP: you’ll find out ;)

Okay now this was gonna kill me!

I went on with my day cleaning the trailer, taking a shower and shaving, taking my birth control (Sweet pea pays for it and also plan B for just-in-case moments) and finishing any homework I know I will not do tomorrow because I will be too sore to do. It was 4pm and I was feeling bored out of my mind. Usually he comes earlier so we can actually do friend stuff like hang out and watch a movie but today was different. I decided to change into a cute red lace set since he did ask what color I wanted. I did light makeup and curled my hair.

“ Damn, I look fuckable ass fuck.” I commented as I saw my reflection. Some light green on my thighs from the previous week slowly fading. A quick idea popped into my head.It would piss him off, but it would be good to let him know. I took my phone and texted.

Y/n: Wyd?

SP: Doing some serpent stuff, missing me already?

I scoffed at his cocking response.

Y/N: Maybe… Anyone around you??

SP: No...I’m in the truck waiting for them? Why?

I jumped up in excitement and positioned myself by the mirror in the perfect angle to get a glance at everything pretty much. He’s gonna be furious… but I won’t mind. I made sure to send them quickly. Sitting down in anticipation.

Sweet Pea stared at his phone after not getting a response, it made him a little suspicious and antsy for the boys to hurry from the daily drop off service. But when he saw two pictures pop out, his vein by his temple was practically about to pop. She knew the risks. What if he wasn’t alone? They would have seen! And bam no more sex. He locked his phone and honked 4 times and the boys came running out ready to leave.

“ Yoooo Sweet’s what's the rush!” Fangs and the other laughed, he sternly glared at them.

“ I got shit to handle so can we go!” Fangs nodded but stifled a laugh as they drove away.

He didn’t respond! What the hell. He may be too busy. I decided to wear an oversized shirt and walk to the living room where I watched Friends pass the time. Then my phone rang. It was Sweet Pea.

SP: You're in trouble.

My heart raced, I got up and ran to the room making sure to get everything out, lube, handcuffs, ribbon. I sat on the bed leg shaking slightly. Then I heard the familiar steps that led up to my trailer door. His spare key twisted into the lock. Just in time. The butterflies in my stomach flutter all the way down to my thighs and core. He came in taking his boots and coat off. His footsteps coming towards the room. And I froze putting the best puppy eye dog eyes that would not save me. His face was serious, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed.

“ Hi.” I sheepishly spoke. I took a deep breath.

“ You know what you did was risky, right?” He barked, I got up making my way towards him, but he backed up slightly.

“ I’m sorry.. I thought since you said you were alone...I missed you.” I crossed my arms defeated and looked down at the floor. Maybe what I did was out of line. Fuck this isn’t a relationship where you can send nudes Y/n! These were dick appointments, that's it!

I sighed defeated, “ If you wanna reschedule that’s fine… It was out of line—” I turned away from him only to be yanked up against him.

His hot breath fanning against mine, a bruising hold on both my arms.” Why would I pass up the opportunity to punish you.” Just like that, I was putty in his hands. Like always. He made sure to forcefully take the oversized shirt off throwing it somewhere, to reveal what the photos told him. He watched as I stood flustered, shocked, and blush red. His hot gaze is enough to get me going. He sat at the edge of my bed and pulled out a small box from his leather jacket. It was black. He signed for me to get closer so I did. I towered over him slightly as he handed the box a smirk on his face. I eyed the box suspiciously.

“ Open it.” He urged so I did. My mouth fell open slightly. It was a red butt plug. What the fuck. I looked at him dead in the eyes.

“ I know you said you weren’t ready for anal...but I thought this would help ease us in. Literally.” he chuckled darkly. I was speechless. It was hot, and uncomfortable to think that it would end up...there. I sighed shakily. He caught on to my nervousness.

“ Remember at any time you can stop me.” He reassured, making me smile softly. Besides the sex, he always was my friend never pushing me to do anything I didn’t want. I nodded and took it and placed it by the nightstand where the lube and other stuff were. I walked back easing my way to straddle his lap and take his leather jacket off. Our gaze is soft and friendly for now.

“ I’m sorry again you know.” I sighed my hands working on any knots in his shoulders, his eyes fluttered shut as he relaxed under her. Deep down Sweet pea would be a sub for her if it meant it started with massages.

“ It's fine.” He sighed, seeing him vulnerable for a brief moment made me ache and even more wet than I was. I pushed my body fully up against his, arms draping around his neck. His eye opened to meet my dark ones. My hips grounded down on him, “ I’m ready.” I sighed, that was enough for Pea to grab her hips forcefully gripping them down to make her feel the hard-on she caused.

“ You made me hard in the fucking truck,” He made one of his arm free to hold her chin forcefully to make her stare at him while he spoke. Y/N yelled softly as she tried to keep her eyes from rolling back as he rutted his hips towards her. “ I couldn’t get out of the truck, I had to drop them off.”

“ That was the plan daddy.” I moaned, making him growl in frustration. He pushed me off him, hand in my hair as he yanked me to the mirror where I took the pictures. It was a long full body mirror by my bed. His body flush against my back, one arm still in my hair and the other racking his ringed up fingers against my skin.

“ You’re gonna look at yourself, and learn why you don’t tease me.” His lips on my neck as his finger roughly yanks the lace bra cup down, making me squeal. The electric feeling as his cold finger massaged my breast made me dizzy.

“ Pea…” I sighed rolling my eyes back, head limp against his shoulder. His grip on my hair wakes me from my bliss.

“ Look!” He barked, making my goosebumps jump out, his neck went back to work. His arm slowly going back but skimming down to where I needed him the most. I knew he wasn’t going to give it to me that easy. “ Please...Daddy” I whimpered as he barely grazed the skin on my thighs. He bit harder on my neck as he pushed his leg between my thighs, hand dipping into my core. I let out a shaky gasp as he went straight for my clit.

“Fuck.” I gasped watching as his fingers teasingly moved circles around it. My hand reached to cover his for support, for once he didn’t intervene. And the other reached to his hard on that was covered but prominent against me. Pea couldn’t help but let her touch him, he watched as her hooded eyes watched as he slowly touched her. But the moment her hand gripped his hand he yanked it away and tsked her. He walked away from her taking his shirt off.

I stood stunned and breathless, the ache only growing by the minute. I turned around and followed him by removing the rest of the bra. And pried at his muscular back. Kissing it softly wrapping my arms around him.

“ You just don’t know when to keep your hands to yourself now.” The ribbon in his hands as he turned around. Fuck. With one shove I was on the bed with Pea crawling up to tie my wrists together above my head.

“ C’mon Pea…” I whined as my hips bucked towards him for any friction, fuck was it painful. He smirked down at me.

“ You know that's not how it works right?” I groaned in annoyance. His face came down close to hers as his hands wrapped around her thighs and as pulling her flush against him again.

“ Pea kiss me or so help me—” His mouth was instantly on mine, nothing fluff about it. open , hot kisses as my hips wildly looked for him. His hand suddenly smacked my ass leaving a deep red print.

“ Shit-” I cried against him, his mouth moving against my jaw, his tongue leaving a hot trail down to the valley of my bare breasts. I resisted against the restraints as his ringed fingers and mouth attacked my breast.

“ Your squirming even before I touch you, you're so needy.” He laughed against my skin. I blushed madly arching my back towards him.” Answer.” He hissed, as his hand rubbed hard and rough circles against my clit. I bit my lip trying to talk.

“ Yes..ugh...Daddy..fuckkk” I moaned loudly as his pattern quickened and his finger flicked my nipple. The overstimulation nearly brought me to the edge, he watched me from above how breathlessly I squirmed, threw my head back and clamped my thighs around him. Just as I felt the brink, he pulled away. I whimpered out in pain, feeling empty again. Sweet Pea made sure to leave any mark all over her body avoiding her whimpers and cries for his actions. His fingers plunging into her abruptly, at a vicious pace that made her scream. He made sure to stare right at her as she exchanged glances to his actions and his wicked smile. “ You want hard, rough? That’s what you want right?” he spat gritting his teeth as he felt her wall clench and contract against his fingers.

“ Oh my goddd…. YES!” I screamed staring deep into his evil eyes, “ Daddy harder please!” My head thrashing back as I felt my legs convulse and shake. I wanted to come so bad, and the wet sounds that came out of me were not helping. My fingers were placed on the covers as they remain tied up above me. “ Not yet.” He whispered softly against the shell of my ear as he stopped again. I shivered as my body tried to recover from another withdrawal, eyes shut in pain as my clit throbbed from lack of release.” Please….Please.” Tears at the brim of my eyes, searching into his for a little bit of mercy. He only ignored me and turned me around chest into the mattress and ass up. The lube coming in contact with my asshole sending a jolt up my spine. At this point anything that would give me some pleasure was acceptable. Pea made sure to adjust my wrist and tie them again against my back, and my face on the mattress. He then kissed my head as the tip of the plug made contact with me. I hissed softly as he slowly pushed it in. Surprisingly, It wasn’t as bad as I thought.

I sighed as I felt somewhat full as it sat in me. “ Damn baby.” He mumbled, I could practically picture his face. All flustered and vulnerable at her position and gleaming core.

Not long after his hands held my tied arms in a tight grip as he grinned against me.” mhm.’” one hand constantly smacking my ass till my buttcheek felt numb. I really won’t be able to sit tomorrow. “ You're such a slut begging for me… for this… Can’t even wait till I get home.” He seethed as his rough jeans rubbed perfectly against me and the plug.

I moaned loudly, “ Pea fuck me please! Anything I promise you anything but fuck me please!” I yelled in frustration as I tried wiggling my hips to get any extra friction. He grunted in defeat and practically sighed in relief as I heard his belt unbuckled and the bed suddenly becoming light behind me. I tried looking around to see him, but only his hand made sure to push me further into the mattress. “ You wanted this, so take it!” He roughly shoved himself into me with no warning, a loud gasp ripping through me followed by a choked moan. His size always felt like the first time, painful and blissful at the same time. “ FUCK!” Pea moaned as he steadied his hips as he made sure to feel that moment, being deep in her, ass up, red ribbon around her wrists like a present, shit it was perfect. He pulled out and back in bruisingly fast, hands back on her arms.

“ Shit shit shit!” I screamed out my eyes shut as he hit the right spot constantly but grazed the plug as he pulled out.

“ You look….so gorgeous right now fuck.” He grunted as Pea focused on not coming anytime soon but rather feeling every inch tighten around him. Just for him. Only making his grip on her arms terribly harder. The pain and pleasure as he bruisingly fucked her from behind only made her squeeze her eyes shut, her mouth wide as she felt the familiar knot about to explode.

“ I’m going to cum! Holy shit please Pea let me cum pleaseee!” I begged as Pea made sure to rub hard and fast fingers against her clit.

“ Come on baby, take it, squirt for me baby.” The profanities and the way his voice and body worked around her did just what he asked.

“ Shit shit shit!” I cried out as my legs shook and fluid leaked out around Pea’s finger.

“Fuck.” He growled and made sure to keep fucking her through her orgams, nearing her to the next one.

I screeched softly and huffed as he kept his bruising pace, “ Pea oh my gawd Don’t stop! Fuck me!” Sweet Pea practically came then and their but pulled out to control himself.

“ No, NO!” I cried as my wrist withered to pull him back. Pea shakily sighed, stroking himself softly. He watched as she squirmed and whimpered trying to be set loose. He untied her wrist sending a buzzing feeling of excitement through her as she propped herself only for a second. Pea made sure to pull her around by her hair. “ You really are prettier all tied up, huh.” He teased.

I widened my eyes, “ No! Not again!” I wrapped my arms around his neck pulling him into a kiss and flush against my hot skin. The feeling of his skin against her finger pads was heavenly. It was rare to be able to touch him, and when he let her, she loved it. Her mouth on his hungrily as her hips bucked against his hard on. Pea grunted against her mouth, his hands moving from her breast where he quickly pulled on her red nipples and down to her bruised hips. “ You won’t be able to walk for a week baby girl.” He whispered as he teasingly rubbed against my swollen nerve. A weak moan only for a response. He slipped in easily and then faster, digging his mouth onto my neck as I scratched his shoulders. “ Ohhh, Yes….Mmmm” I moaned wrapping my legs around his waist as he pounded so hard into me, practically into the mattress.

Pea made sure to come up to see her face as she practically cried at her second painful release. Seeing her silently watch in awe as her eyes rolled back, it brought him to the edge.

“ Come on cum with me, Come on!” Pea yelled his chin forcing her to look at his furious face, only adding to her orgasm. Pea made sure to keep his pace as she yelled his name and tears ripped through her as she threw her head back. As she saw white, Pea went balls deep and stayed in as he came in her, his groans and moans muffled into her neck. She made sure that with the little bit of energy to wrap her fingers into his damp hair, easing him down from his own high. Pea made sure to pin her arms away from him, scaring her slightly at his abrupt move.

“ I’m not done with you.” He made his way down to her core, instantly going to her almost numb and in pain clit.

I hissed as his lips and tongue wrapped around me. I didn’t have the strength to cum again, I almost wanted to call the safe word just for my sake to rest but the way Sweet Pea looked up at her, in between her thighs. Pea knew exactly how to make her cum and he wanted to see her cum underneath him all over again. “ Shit...Fuck.” My hands grabbed handfuls of the sheets as I rocked my hips against his hot mouth and tongue.

To make matters worse, he purposely groaned and hummed against me, I never felt like cuming so fast in the times being with Pea. Each time he knew her better enough to get her on edge in seconds. His hand made sure to hold down painfully hard on her hips as she chanted his name.

“ Yes...Yes yes yes!” I back arched and watched in awe as his tongue did wonders, followed by his thumb that flicked and rubbed so hard I lost track of time. Pain ripped through my abdomen to my core, ready for a painful orgasm. It was so much. “ Pea! I can’t I-” I cried and sure enough my body cracked under him, fluid squirting out as tears fell out and high pitched moans echoed into the room. Pea pulled himself up to watch her tears stained cheeks, suddenly nervous it was too much. “Hey, Are you okay?” His soft voice made me crane my neck back to see his worried face, with a wet face may I add. I smiled weakly and wiped his cheek with my thumb. “ You are unbelievable Sweet Pea.” He smirked laying next to her as they both sighed.

I was exhausted not wanting to move or speak. Just stare at the ceiling and acknowledge how great her body felt, for now.

“ Wait I have to take something—” His hand pulling my ass to the side, “ Relax, I don’t wanna hurt you.” I scoffed but was cut short by the feeling of the plug coming out. I hissed softly and turned back around on my back.

“ I should get you a bath running before I leave.” Pea said as he kissed my semi wet cheek and got up to find his clothes. I watched as he pulled on his underwear and jeans and disappeared into the bathroom. I was smiling. At him. Here I was catching feelings over something we told ourselves was nothing serious. I pushed myself up to distract myself only to be extremely sore. I tried propping myself up to walk to the bathroom only to fall on my knees in pain. He really fucked me till I couldn't walk. I burst out laughing making Sweet Pea walk back into the room extremely confused.

“ Come help me up weirdo!” He went over to pick her up but just ended up carrying her bridal style. He laughed as she groaned but laughed also.

This was nice, their company and well the sex also. Sweet knew that it was temporary and he reminded himself that everyday. Deep down he was a romantic, and he knew his soulmate was out there. But for now he just wanted to explore himself a little more and who else to help than his best friend. He hated leaving her after, something in him told him to stay, but he was enough of a gentleman to know that staying would only send mixed signals and ruin everything. So he stuck to the plan.

“ Well, I’m gonna head out, and I’m sorry if I went overboard—” Pea flinched as he saw the bruises show up around my arms and legs, the water instantly healing some pain. I sighed sinking deeper into the tub. Pea kneeled next to me, waiting for some goodbye gesture. I looked at him smiling, “ It was great, plus I'll be fine...but,” I held his hand that rested on the side of the tub. “ Can you stay...to hang out?” I watched his reaction change from content to flustered. It’s insane that friendship intimacy was weird to us but seeing each other naked wasn’t.

He coughed and looked at his clock, “ I don’t know—”

I patted his hand, “ Pea it’s fine, it was just and offer.” I casually played it off, waiting for his response even though it did hurt to see him turn me down. He stood up and sighed in defeat. “ How about this. I have to do some stuff to do with fangs for a night delivery, and if everything goes smoothly...I’ll crash with you.” He looked down at my surprised face. He chuckled at my silent response.

“ Oh- Yeah sure! Sounds good.” I cooly said somehow suddenly interested in the bath water.

“ Alright see you later!” I said before leaving entirely with the sound of the door closing, I sat in the water somehow happy but nervous that he easily accepted my offer. I giggled to myself, but was cut short by my sore body.

“ Fuck, this is more painful than my Serpent initiation trial.” I mumbled softly.��

Somehow I managed to get out of the bath, with wobbly legs, and into my soft pj pants and tank top. It was 8 pm, my eyes sleepy and my body tired. I laid in the wrinkled up bed, forgetting that someone would be coming back.

#riverdale smut #riverdale southside #riverdale #sweat pea x reader #Cheryl bombshell #smut #southside serpents #request #a03 tags #sweet pea smut

478 notes · View notes

misterewrites · 3 years

Text

Intro to Caitlyn 102 (Mirror’s Edge)

Hey everyone! E here with another chapter. been a busy week so this is a little late but with any luck I'll have the next underground chapter out this week or maybe another chapter for this story. dunno I'm just having fun in general. I hope you are all staying safe, wash your hands, wear your mask, get the vaccine if you can, keep each other safe! Feel free to tell your friends about this, reblog it or leave comments I'd greatly appreciate it. Trying promote myself is weird haha Stay safe and have a great week!

If you’d like an easier place to read the story, feel free to follow the link below

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/76796408

Summary: Caitlyn has her target thanks to one Finnrick Drift and now it's time to break in. After she takes care a few things at home.

-----

Caitlyn sighed as she was unable to keep her eyes off the slivered hue butterfly hair ornament in her palm, the multi-colored glass shards wings stretched wide like it was ready to take flight.

It was beautiful, it was the perfect and it was expensive.

The sliver was real, none of that cheap painted copper or tin or whatever hairclips were normally made of. The different shards of glass had been painstakingly put into place, each fitting together perfectly like a completed puzzle which must’ve taken months to do by hand. And true to his word, she could feel the energy of this item, the magical thrum of its power. It no longer felt cold and distant but warm, light and carried a familiarity with it. It was strange to say but it was almost like the ornament was breathing in time with her. Like it was a part of her.

Of course it was, it’s freaking magic! Frankly magic could do whatever the hell it wanted apparently. The real question was what hidden power laid within.

Somehow in the back of her mind she knew how this thing was supposed to work: it granted her some kind of temporary movement. What that meant she hadn’t the slightest clue. She also knew it would only last an hour and would ‘refresh’ at every dawn. Because that’s a thing. And she knew the spoken word needed to activate it. Which of course meant the word was angel.

Caitlyn frowned, unsure what kind of joke this was. Finnrick had specifically called her angel twice: once when they first met and when asked what exactly the hairclip did. Clearly it was some inside joke he was in on. She just wished she was too.

“Hey Cat, you okay? You keep looking at the wall.”

Caitlyn shook herself out of her stupor and found herself staring at wide brown curious eyes that belonged her baby brother Lou.

Louis or Lou as he preferred to be called, was 7 years old (soon to be 8 next month). He had messy black hair with a cute button nose. He wore clothing typical of a child his age: A red shirt with a hero splashed across its front and baggy shorts. His sneakers were worn and frayed which reminded Caitlyn she really needed to get him a new pair. Between his chubby cheeks and the gap in his smile he was the cutest kid in the world. True he was a bit pudgy due to his lack of height though if he was anything like their father, he would grow to tower over her.

Caitlyn sighed sadly: two years and still no word of her parents. One day they just up and vanished. She used to think they had died through some cruel act of fate or misfortune. In her weaker moments, she briefly wondered if they just left Lou and her behind to start a new life.

But now, with the realization there was a whole magical world on top of her own, she couldn’t fathom what could’ve happened to them. Her thoughts were endlessly filled with possibility and none of them good. None of them made the pain hurt less.

She pinched herself as hard as she could. The sharp pain cut through her wandering mind and focused her back on the task at hand.

“I’m fine” She gave a sly smile “But have you finished your sandwich? A nice man bought it for you and I don’t want it to go to waste.”

Lou bounced up and down excitedly, pudgy hands tucked into a fist “Yes, yes I did! It was yummy!”

“Awesome!”

“Who was the nice man?” Lou asked quizzically, tilting his head to one side.

“Umm….” Caitlyn was torn: One hand she wasn’t quite sure where her and Finnrick landed on the whole trustworthy scale. On the other hand she couldn’t just say a random name. Lou had an uncanny ability to know when she was lying. Bordering on supernatural sometimes.

She glanced carefully towards her baby brother, searching for any sign of magic or mysticism in his chubby cheeks.

He scrunched his eyes wide and inched closer to her. She blinked, stumbling backwards at his sudden movement.

“I win!” He cheered with a bright smile “You blinked first!”

It took a moment for Caitlyn to process what was going on.

She laughed softly “Yeah kiddo. You win.”

“So what’s the nice man’s name? It’s not Jonas, is it? He was a creep.”

“Yeah he was.” Caitlyn awkwardly agreed. Her stomach churned unhappily at the thought of her ex. “No, his name is Finn.”

“Finn” Lou paused thoughtfully, eyes narrowed in concentration “Fiiiiinn. Finn! I like it! Fiiiiiiiinn. Can you thank him for me next time you two go out?”

Caitlyn rose a hand up no protest “Whoa, whoa, whoa slow down kiddo. We’re not dating.”

“But why not? You said he was nice.”

“I…” she glanced about the apartment wearily: Peeling paint, barely held together furniture and rent past due. So much work and effort for this ramshackle home.

“I don’t have time kiddo. I got to keep working if we wanna keep this place.”

Lou frowned, his face confused as if he couldn’t understand the word work “But you’re always working Cat. When are you supposed to have fun?”

Caitlyn ruffled his already messy hair lovingly “I’ll worry about that and you worry about having fun...and keeping up your grades.”

Lou’s ears perked up “What? Sorry, I think I hear Hedge calling me.” and without further warning, he bolted into his room, picking up his beloved turtle plush Hedge and dove under the covers.

Caitlyn couldn’t help but grin at his brother’s antics.

Then reality set in again.

She rather not deal with this newly found, barely understood magical world but regular folks weren’t paying the bills like they used to. Her fence was giving her less and charging more. Some bulltshit about paying off crooked cops or whatever. Sounded like a half ass excuse to her but they both knew she didn’t have much options.

Real gold. Any loose change from magical folks could easily lighten her burden and the promise of more sat in some entitled prick’s safe.

She couldn’t resist even if she had tried and she hadn’t tried to stop herself in years.

-----

Caitlyn waited till midnight to make her move. It was easier to blend in with darker shades and regardless of who she was robbing, she wasn’t in the business to make enemies. Especially enemies with unknown powers.

Lou was tucked into bed, nice and cozy with Hedge locked in his arms. Mrs. Palmer, a kindly older woman next door, agreed to watch him. They shared a silent knowing look with one another.

Her apartment was on the less than well kept side of town and everyone had their hands in some sort of shady business here. They tried their best to keep their noses clean but sometimes there were dips into less savory methods of getting cash.

Caitlyn was prepped for the mission ahead: A black blouse with black leggings. Thick black hiking boots for gripping walls and a leather black jacket to keep the cold and sharp pointy objects away from her skin.

She took a sad glance at the jacket, remembering all the times her father joked about handing it down to her when she beat him at arm wrestling. She could still hear dad’s hearty laughter echoing down the hall.

Caitlyn’s eyes hardened as she forced herself to look away “They left. No point in letting good gear go to waste.”

She took a deep calming breath as she ripped the tape off the butterfly knife she hid underneath her bed. She hated unnecessary violence but sometimes it took more than a good right hook to get someone off your ass. Better to have it and not need it than wind up with a bruise of regret.

She slipped the knife into her jacket pocket, slung her bag over her shoulder, nodded thankfully towards Mrs. Palmer and made her way out the door.

------

Caitlyn decided to take the long way: True it was halfway across town and took an hour of traveling but she always enjoyed the quiet that came with waiting. It calmed her, allowed her time to double and triple check her plans with the added benefit of shaking out any loose thoughts rattling in her head with each bump of the bus.

She stared at the beautiful ornate butterfly clip currently holding her ponytail up in the window. Caitlyn wasn’t sure what exactly Finnrick had given her but she didn’t want to use it at the apartment in case it didn’t do what it was supposed to. After all, suddenly having the knowledge in her head on how to work the hairclip was a bit unsettling. Okay really unsettling. Better to use it far away from Lou in case it exploded or something else nasty.

She got off the bus at last and hurried her way over to Andor’s, careful to cover her face whenever she spotted the odd store or traffic camera. She didn’t know who actually controlled them and she didn’t want to find out the hard way.

Andor’s Antique Shoppe (really cute elf boy) was the tallest building on the street: three floors that towered over the single story shops nearby. The street itself was nearly pitch black with a street lamp on either end of the block being the only source of light. Not a soul in sight.

Now was a good time as any to try out the hairclip. Caitlyn closed her eyes, exhaling slowly as she focused on the magical item. Goosebumps ran down her spine while the quiet, powerful thrum hummed softly in her ears. The word escaped her lips like it was second nature.

“Angel”

She nearly stumbled as a warm sensation filled her entire being. It covered her like a second skin and suddenly she was aware of the hairclip intimately: It’s weight, where it sat upon her head. She could feel the wings of the butterfly unfold, outstretched and ready to take flight. She heard the shimmering of magic forming into existence and she let out a surprised gasp when her feet lifted off the ground.

Caitlyn glanced in the nearby shop window, tears welling in her eyes:Beautiful translucent butterfly wings extended out from behind her. The outline of the wings were a deep rich purple with the multicolored glass stained shards gorgeously laid across its surface, each as elegant and refined as any art piece she’d ever seen. Each flutter and beat held her aloft, defying gravity’s hold on her. In the shadows of the night, the soft glow of the wings made her look like...

“An angel.” she whispered gently “I look like an angel.”

Caitlyn wiped the tears away. Technically she was a butterfly but this wasn’t the time for sentiment. She had a job to do and the longer she floated out here the more likely she’d get caught.

“Up” she murmured and the wings obliged: she rose silently skyward, each beating of the wings taking her higher and higher. The chill of the wind felt nice across her cheeks and she couldn’t help but relax in its presence.

Her original plan was to simply scale the side of the building and pick the window to gain entry but with her new found vertical movement, it was easier to just go up and over. She made sure she ascended from the end of the street and flew over to the third floor.

Caitlyn tilted her head quizzically as she found herself staring at a haphazardly open window.

“It can’t be this simple.” she narrowed her eyes suspiciously “It has to be a trap.”

-----

Caitlyn stood dumbfounded in the unguarded office of Andor.

She looked to her left then to her right, waiting for some sort of ambush to be sprung.

None came.

“Okay it is this simple.” Caitlyn whispered to herself, opting to just take this stroke of good fortune and run with it. She quietly willed the wings away and with a glitter of magic they vanished into thin air.

She crept over to the black safe tucked lazily in the corner, a stack of important looking documents just thrown on top without a care in the world. She quickly pocketed them and turned her attention to the roadblock in her way. True to Finnrick’s information, the safe itself was fairly simple and wouldn’t take much to break into. Either Andor was extremely confident in his security or really didn’t take being a crook seriously.

Not that it mattered to Caitlyn. It wasn’t her fault Andor hadn’t invested in a good safe.

She pressed her ear against the cool surface of the metal, trying to ignore the icy chill on her cheek as she strained to listen for the nearly inaudible click of the tumblers falling into place. It had taken two tries too many but she allowed herself a smug grin as the safe’s door swung open with a creak.

Caitlyn’s eyes narrowed at the sight of a funny symbol painted onto the back of the door. It gleamed with a strange unnatural light before disappearing all together. Before she could began to guess what bad news that meant, the shouts and thundering footsteps echoed from below answered her question.

“Shit.” She whispered as she began frantically grabbing everything she could: Folders, stacks of papers and clanging metal in heavy pouches. It all went into her bag with as much speed as she could muster.

The footsteps grew louder with a frantic pace. They were already on the second floor if she hazard a guess. Caitlyn made for the window and without a second thought, flung herself outside with all her might.

“Angel!” She hurried muttered but the wings were forming too slowly. She already crossed past the next floor down when they barely began to outstretch from her back. Caitlyn was no physics major but even she knew there was no way she’d be able to slow down in time to avoid breaking her neck. She shielded her face with her arms and tried not to flinch as she waited for the pain to set in.

It didn’t come.

Instead she felt herself slow to a stop midair and just stayed here. Caitlyn opened her eyes to find herself bobbing up and down inches away from the pavement. There were a pair of legs as well: Black slacks and well polished loafers with the bottom half of a black tattered trench coat.

“Falling for me angel? I didn’t expect it to be literal.”

She glanced up to found herself staring at the one and only Finnrick Drift before her, a cheeky smile on his lips and his hand held out.

Finnrick waved his fingers over her and she landed onto the sidewalk with a soft thud.

He offered her his hand but she preferred to scamper to her feet in the most ungraceful way possible. Her cheeks burned with a pinkish hue at the sight of the P.I.

“Thanks.” She couldn’t keep the embarrassment out of her voice “I….thanks.”

Finnrick nodded “Anytime.”

“WHY IS THE DOOR LOCKED?!” A voice roared from overhead.

“CUZ IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE YOU IDIOT!”

Realization knocked Caitlyn out of whatever was going on here but as she turned to make a break for it, Finnrick rose his hand to stop her.

She glanced at him, lost and confused.

“The favor. I’m calling it in.”

“What?! Here?! NOW!? You got to be kidding!”

“I kid about a lot of things.” Finnrick admitted “but not this.”

“We’re standing outside the place I just robbed! This isn’t the time!”

“Yes it is.”

Caitlyn took a step back and cast a suspicious look at the private investigator “You were using me, weren’t you? You didn’t want to get your hands dirty so you let me borrow the wings so I can steal the thing for you!”

Finnrick shook his head.

“Don’t turn this around on me!” Caitlyn snarled

Finnrick answered simply “You were clearly better at locks and sneaking around than I am. I was actually having trouble figuring how to pull this off. Every option ended with a fight with Andor. That’s why I’m out here. Why I busted every cameras on the street and managed to keep the window open. To make sure you were okay.”

“Where even were you?!” Caitlyn tried in vain to recall seeing Finnrick on the street “it doesn’t matter! You want me to trust you?! Just like that?”

Finnrick sighed tiredly “Please angel I trust you.”

Caitlyn’s eyes went cold “That is your mistake, not mine.”

Finnrick stared back at her, his dark brown eyes warm and gentle “Trusting you is my choice. Breaking it lays entirely with you.”

Caitlyn felt the rage and distrust drain out of her and replaced with a tense exhaustion.

Angel. He had let her borrow the wings and while there was no way he’d let her keep them he did give it to her for a favor. A simple favor he promised.

She sighed in defeat “What’s the favor?”

“I need a paper from the stack.”

“And if I give it to you, will you let me go?” She asked, hating how weak and vulnerable she sounded.

“No” Finnrick spoke without hesitation.

Caitlyn's shoulders sagged with disappointment.

“I will protect you.”

Caitlyn couldn’t help but stare at Finnrick: His face was scrunched up in a rather cute sense of determination and his body was relaxed. It was clear he was trying to be as nonthreatening as possible and despite her recent outburst, he seemed more concern with her than himself.

When was the last time someone offered to protect her? Granted she didn’t need any but even Caitlyn had to admit it was nice to hear.

They stood there for a moment, the angry shouts and cursing of Andor and his thugs breaking the silence of the night.

“Which paper is it?”

“It’ll be a single sheet with some fancy silvery writing on it.”

It took her no time to find it: It was thicker than all the others, written on some ancient paper that was aged yellow with time but was otherwise intact. The shining silvery writing was indeed fancy but nearly impossible to make out. She could actually feel her eyes water just looking at it and she wasted no time shoving it into Finn’s hand.

“There!” Caitlyn cast a nervous glance towards the third floor window “I kept my end. Now keep yours. Please.”

Finnrick said nothing. He instead tucked the loose paper inside his coat and offered a hand to her.

Confused but running out of options, she gingerly took his hand in hers. She flushed at how warm he was. Caitlyn let out a yelp as Finnrick pulled her in. She tried to keep her cheeks from turning a lovely shade of red when Finnrick held her close.

Finnrick began chanting, his hands drawing unseen symbols in the air. Caitlyn could feel the same warm sensation from earlier wash over her as Finnrick’s spell took effect.

-----

“FIND MY STUFF NOW!” Andor screamed with bloody rage. He was typical of an elf: Impossible well kept blonde hair that flowed to his back, piercing forest green eyes. He was tall and lean with the tackiest suit anyone had seen. Reds and pinks in some sort plaid pattern. He called it looking good. His goons called it a headache. His pointed ears twitch unhappily as he struggled to listen for any sort of sound nearby but found nothing beyond the usual quiet hum of the city.

Andor groaned unhappily as he made his way to the window. His eyes scanned the street with a clarity not even the most technologically advance camera could match. His elf eyes took in every detail through the shadows: every imperfect scratch on the brick buildings, the asphalt embedded with the grooves of tires, cracked sidewalks that spread out like bolts of lightning.

Nothing. Not a single soul was in sight. The silhouetted street was bare and empty.

“FUCK!” Andor screamed into the silence “FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT! FIND THEM NOW! CHECK THE FRONT DOOR CAMERA!”

“We can’t boss, it was fried yesterday, remember?”

Andor shut the window with a violent thud.

-----

Caitlyn let out the tense sigh she hadn’t realized she had been holding in.

She instinctively looked towards Finnrick only to find empty air.

“We’ll have to be invisible a little longer. They’ll be searching the shop before they think to start fanning outside. Andor will be making the process longer. Let’s get to the end of the street and I’ll drop it then.”

Caitlyn nodded for a moment before realizing he couldn’t see her

He guided her arm into his and the pair briskly walked down the street. It felt weird to walk invisible, arm in arm, while a childish elf baby raged behind them.

When they reached the end of the street, Finnrick dropped the spell. The two reappeared as quickly as they’d vanished. Caitlyn pulled away from the detective, her body shivering from the sudden lack of warmth.

“Thank you.” Caitlyn murmured softly.

Finnrick tipped his fedora “Any time sweetie.”

“What now?”

Finnrick scratched his chin thoughtfully “It is late and staying here would be a terrible idea. I suspect we both have places to be.”

Finnrick reached into his pocket and held out a piece of paper for Caitlyn to take. She stared at it, unsure what he was offering.

“It’s my fence.” He clarified with a smile “I take it you don’t know a magical one. He’s very trustworthy and he’ll give you a fair price.”

“Thanks” she took the slip of paper “I….thank you.”

“Any time. Good night angel.”

“Wait!” She reached for him but drew back when he turned to face her “Your hairclip? The one you let me borrow?”

Finnrick’s eyes twinkled with amusement “You didn’t hear me, did you? I told you that’s yours.”

Caitlyn could hear her heart thundering in her ears, cheeks ablaze “You sure? It seems like it costed a pretty penny.”

“Pretty amount of gold.” Finnrick corrected with a wink “And I’m pretty sure. I made it for you.”

“Why?” The question slipped out of her mouth “Why me? You barely know me.”

“Not true.” Finnrick nervously bit his lip “You barely know me. I’ve been waiting for you forever now. About five yearsin fact.”

“Me?” Her blush worsened “I don’t understand.”

“You will.”

Finnrick took her hand in his once more and softly kissed it. Caitlyn could feel a flutter of butterflies fill her stomach.

He hesitated to break his hold on her but he did so respectfully. Caitlyn could see his cheeks tinged with a pinkish hue as he began walking away.

Caitlyn stood there and watched the detective vanish into the night.

-----

Okay, so she didn’t just stand there dumbfounded as Finnrick walked away. It was probably a terrible idea and definitely not normal Caitlyn behavior but she followed him.

It wasn’t too hard given her newfound verticality. She just waited a few minutes, noted the direction he was heading and flew over the rooftops. Finnrick didn’t seem to be aware he was being followed. He walked the darken streets of Newton Haven, gesturing to the odd person or mythical being cloak in the darkness. His pace was casual and unsuspecting.

Her concerns about running out of time were unfounded as about 30 minutes later, Finnrick ducked into a fairly decent apartment complex. It was better kept than hers but only by a fraction.

A dark apartment on the third floor was suddenly flooded with light as Finnrick Drift made his way inside. He hung his coat and fedora at a coat rack that stood by the door. The apartment was itself humble: he had a battered desk placed by the window, his tiny kitchen was on one side and the door to his bedroom on the other. There was a large file cabinet next to a battered, ancient fridge. Not the place of a well paid private investigator.

Finnrick sighed tiredly as he rolled up his sleeves. The way his body hunched over with the slow debilitate movements he made, it was obvious he must’ve been exhausted. But whatever he was up to must’ve been important because he began drawing on his lovely wooden floor.

Caitlyn couldn’t really guess what the detective was doing beyond the shape he was making: There was a large outer circle and a much smaller one within. An array of symbols were drawn between the two circles such as stars, a crescent moon, squiggles shaped like trees with a language she didn’t understand.

It didn’t take Finnrick long to finish. He stood at full height, wiping the sweat from his brow as he reached into his pocket and pulled a baggie. Carefully, he opened the bag and pulled out a sliver thread that seemed to shine even at this distance. He placed it within the smaller circle and outstretched a hand like he was grasping at something. His eyes, normally a warm dark brown, glowed with blue arcane power. Magical symbols formed before him and the building groaned and creaked like the mere presence of magic commanded it to speak. He lit a match, his lips moving more and more wildly yet no sound could be heard from within. Finnrick closed his hand into a fist and the symbols sunk into the circle. He flung the match onto the sliver thread and the entire glyph blazed with fire for moment. There was a flash of a brilliant light and the circle had vanished only to be replaced by some strange figure.

She was much taller than Finn, so tall in fact the top of her head nearly scraped the bottom of the next floor up. Her hair was wispy, thin threads of sliver that reached to the bottom of her feet. Her skin was pale like moonlight and two dark sunken pits formed her eyes. Her frame was lanky and unnatural like someone had pulled and stretch her into her current form. Her clothes were torn and ragged.

The figure tiled her head curiously at Finnrick who dug into his pocket and pulled out the yellowed paper Caitlyn had given him. The figure was dumbstruck as Finnrick handed it to her with a warm smile. He offered a match to the creature but she shook her head. She gingerly held the paper in her hand, staring at it like was about to vanish into thin air.

Then she ripped it. She tore at it with a fierce, terrifying frenzy. She ripped and ripped and ripped until impossibly small bits of paper rained across the apartment. Caitlyn leaned closer as previously unseen shackles formed upon the figure’s wrist and cracked wide open. They slipped off and vanished into the air.

The figure let out a manic laugh as she shrunk, her limbs realigning themselves until she looked like a proper human sized person only a head taller than Finnrick. Her thin wispy hair fattened to thick, full braids of metallic silver. Her skin remained pale but her dark sunken eyes turned a coal black, full of life and joy. Even her clothes had transformed into a splendid elegant dress that sparkled like stars.

She cried, clear streams of water running down her face as she held Finnrick’s hands tightly. She wailed and shook, unable to keep her emotions in any longer. Finnrick let her, giving only a satisfied grin in response. She handed him a handful of gold, 3 maybe 4 pieces and began patting her dress as if looking for more. Finnrick stopped her, pocketing the gold and shaking his head no. The creature was not satisfied by this and began to gesture wildly about. Finnrick remained steadfast. He gestured to himself, lips speaking but Caitlyn couldn’t read whathe was mouthing this far away. The figure said nothing as a small child matching her skin tone appeared from out of nowhere. The child gestured to his wrist excitedly though nothing was there. The figure scooped the child in her arm and gently kissed his forehead. She glanced to Finnrick and was gone. A gentle warm breeze sailed past Caitlyn’s hidden spot, dispelling the frigid 2 a.m. air.

Finnrick chuckled to himself and despite on the verge of collapsing, made his way to the kitchen. He remained there for a few minutes and reemerged with a steaming cup of those instant noodles found at the store. He made his way over to the window and lifted it open. He placed the foam cup on the fire escape and hastily wrote a note which he folded carefully next to the food.

And with his job seemingly done, he made turned off the lights with a flourish of his hand and made his way to his bedroom. He closed the door and did not reappear.

Caitlyn flew over with the few minutes she had left in her wings. She picked up the cup of ramen, contently sighing with its warmth. She grabbed the note and read it aloud, curious what Finnrick wrote.

Caitlyn felt a chill of run down her spine as she read “Hey! Noticed you watching me and given you didn’t try to attack me, I assumed you had your reasons. If you’re trying to track me for your boss, here’s your warning! I will destroy everything they hold dear. You possibly included. If you just were a person or fae that was just curious, have a warm meal on me! It’s cold out so bundle up. Have a good one and don’t touch the window. I am a powerful warder.” F- :)

Caitlyn couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across her lips as she saw the cute smiley Finnrick had ended the note with.

She held the cup close as she made her way to street level. Finnrick told her she’d understand in time. She wished she understood now but she shocked to find herself more than willing to find out.

#Mirror's Edge #My story #Original Work #original story

18 notes · View notes

rohad93 · 4 years

Text

Moonlit Masquerade: I’ll magic myself to you.

This is one of a series of oneshots that take place after ‘Moonlit Masqerade’

It started with a simple offhand comment from Amity.

They had been hanging out in her secret room after school, Amity sitting on one of the plush cushions on the floor, with Luz sprawled out across the rest, head resting in the witch’s lap as they both read their perspective books. Amity's nose buried in her abominations class book while Luz flipped mindlessly through a Boiling Isles magazine, not so much reading it as looking at the pictures and zoning out while Amity's spare hand threaded lazily through her hair.

She idly wondered if this was what it felt like to be a cat, lavished with slow, tender affection that never made her want to get up. Actually, this was probably why King was so whiny and pouty when she stopped scratching him; it felt nice. Not just the blunt nails that gently scratched her scalp, but the warm contentment that bubbled up in her chest with the act that was reserved only for her. Sometimes it just caused such an overwhelming overflow of emotions that she didn't know what to do with herself.

Eventually, she gave up any pretense of reading and let the articles fall to her chest, eyes closed and hands crossed over her stomach as she enjoyed the witch’s fingers gliding slowly through her hair.

It amazed her that in the two weeks since the blue moon masquerade how at ease they had become in each other's presence now that their unresolved feelings weren't looming over them, making their emotions run in overdrive all the time, though they were still running quite high, she’d admit, they were manageable now.

The fingers stopped and Luz frowned; disappointed. One eye peeked open to see why her girlfriend had stopped and found Amity peering down at her with warm gold eyes over the top of her book, a tiny smile playing at her face.

It took her a moment to realize Luz was looking up at her and her cheeks turned pink before she buried her face back in her book, making Luz frown.

They were definitely more comfortable in each other's presence, but it was still very much a work in progress, which Luz understood. Being so openly and blatantly affectionate was not something that came easily to Amity.

Which bothered Luz deep down.

Amity so obviously wanted to be as generous in her affections as Luz, but after learning more about her girlfriend’s parents, both from her and a few bits from the twins, she understood why it was hard for her; that was what bothered Luz and made her stomach churn with uncharacteristic anger.

That someone as innately kind and sweet as Amity had learned at a very young age to hide those feelings and the things she cared about because if her parents did not approve they had proven without a doubt that they would and could, take them away, burned her up inside.

"You okay?" Luz asked, both eyes opening to look up at her curiously.

Amity nodded from behind her book but kept it up over her face.

Luz hummed before reaching up and with a finger, gently pulled the book down. She met with no resistance as the book dipped to reveal Amity’s pink stained face.

"It's okay." Luz smiled in a way she hoped was reassuring.

Gold eyes darted off to the side before sliding back to her.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, fingers drumming the book’s hardcover anxiously.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I know everything is still kinda new, It’s okay,” she promised.

“Hhm…” Amity hummed as she peered down at Luz, her head still lying atop her thighs and smiling up at her. Slowly, she reached back down, and again her fingers were sliding through her thick, mussed, brown hair.

Luz grinned up at her and the pink on Amity’s face darkened but she didn’t stop. She smiled, though it seemed maintaining eye contact while performing the gesture was too much and her eyes fluttered around the room.

Luz, for all her obliviousness, was quickly learning to pay acute attention to all her girlfriend’s many mannerisms and took the hint, closing her eyes to make her feel less awkward. A happy rumbling noise sounded in the back of her throat.

"You're as bad as King…" She heard Amity mumble with a hint of laughter.

"I think King has the right idea!" She laughed but kept her eyes closed, mostly. She peeked at Amity from beneath her lashes and felt that new, bubbly affection swell in her chest at the adoring way Amity was looking down at her.

The lapsed into a long moment of quiet before Amity's scroll began to jingle.

Luz frowned, knowing what the noise meant as she opened her eyes, looking up as Amity's ministrations stopped and she twirled a finger, making the device appear. She peered at it with a frown before making it disappear again and turning her attention to the human in her lap.

"You gotta go," Luz said, resigned and Amity nodded.

Luz sat up, pouting, as Amity stood and offered her a hand. She took it, allowing the witch to help haul her to her feet.

"I know…" Amity smiled sadly, looking at the pout on Luz's face. "I wish we had more time too."

"Yeah…," she grumbled.

"If only it didn't take thirty minutes to get here from school…" Amity frowned

"And another thirty for you to get home before anyone notices…," Luz finished, nodding. She knew Amity didn't want to go either, but they both knew it was of the utmost importance that she get home at a normal time every day, lest her parents begin looking into where she was going after school for so long.

The twins could sometimes buy them time by making up excuses and vouching for their baby sister, but Amity preferred to call in that particular favor only if she had to. They were all for helping them keep their relationship a secret and helping out where they could if they needed them, but it came with a heaping dose of teasing that Amity preferred to avoid if possible, though she'd gladly take it if that was what they needed to do.

"At least tomorrow is Tuesday," Amity reminded her and Luz perked up.

"Right, I have abominations tomorrow!" She grinned and Amity smiled.

They quietly snuck out of the secret room and headed out of the library.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Luz said, shouldering her bag, a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She glanced back at Amity questioningly.

Amity hesitated a second at the top of the library steps, she looked unsure for a moment, glancing around and seeing no one, she quickly leaned in to peck Luz's cheek.

"Bye, Luz." She smiled before quickly hurrying down the steps.

"Bye!" Luz waved at her retreating back, unable to keep away the smile splitting her face; not that she would want to.

As Amity disappeared down the street a thought struck the human girl.

"If only it didn't take so long to get here…," she mumbled to herself thoughtfully.

A sudden idea sparked in her brain and with a determined face, Luz hurried home.

~ ~ ~

Eda was standing in the kitchen, peering down at one of her books thoughtfully before looking up to glance around the kitchen.

"It's quiet…, too quiet," she mumbled to herself, scratching her chin.

The front door banged open.

"Eda!"

"Ahh, there it is." The older witch smiled as Luz slid into the kitchen.

"Hey, kiddo. How was school, ready to drop out?" she asked as Luz pulled off her bag, dumping it into a chair.

"Not yet." She grinned and Eda shrugged.

"What's up?" she asked, going back to her book.

"Are there transportation spells?"

Eda looked back up at that.

"Transportations spells?" She cocked a brow at her apprentice.

"Yeah, like, you can go instantly from one place to the other?" She leaned her elbows on the counter, looking up at her teacher.

“Yeah, but that's pretty high level stuff, kid. I mean, I can do it easy!" She grinned, then paused, frowning. "Well, I could, why?"

"Amity and I never have as much time together because it takes so long to get to the library after school and then for her to get home before her parents notice." She slumped forward, frowning.

"And if you could just teleport straight from school to the library you'd have more time for smooching," Eda finished, grinning at the bright red shade her apprentice's face turned.

"Do we need to have another talk?"

"No!" Luz nearly shrieked. True to her word, just two days after the masquerade, Eda had sat her down for the second most embarrassing talk of her short life. Actually, probably the most embarrassing.

Eda's version of 'The Talk' had been far less clinical than her mom's, and riddled with references Luz didn't completely understand, or chose not to, though in some ways, which she would never admit, was actually more helpful and easy for her to understand then her mom's had been; though no less embarrassing.

How many versions of 'The Talk' was she going to have to have in one lifetime?

"No, we do not." She frowned. "But yeah, if we could get there faster we could have more time to spend together before she had to go home… no, to the other part." She frowned, red-faced as Eda snickered.

"Yeah, there are transportation spells, but as I said, that's not exactly beginner stuff," Eda said.

"But if there's a spell circle for it I should be able to find a glyph for it right?" she asked.

"Dunno, but knowing you kid, I wouldn't be surprised." She grinned and Luz smiled. "Now go wash up, dinner's gonna be ready soon; get Lilly and King too." She pointed back toward the living room with the spoon in her hand.

"You got it!" She trotted out of the kitchen.

~ ~ ~

Luz spent the next three days pouring over every book about ancient, wild magic she could find, at home and at the library.

At first, Amity had been a little resistant to actually browsing the library for books rather than spending their limited after school time together in her secret hideout but her natural affinity for learning and her curiosity for whatever Luz was up to won out.

No matter how many times she asked, Luz was determined to stay tight-lipped on what exactly she was researching. The last thing she wanted to do was get her girlfriend's hopes up before she had something solid to present her with. So for now, Amity would just be left to wonder what her eccentric human was up too.

Luz flipped through the pages of the ancient book Amity had given her, carefully jotting down notes and inserting bookmarks in certain places she wanted to go back over in better detail later when she could talk to Lillith, who was quite proficient at translating the otherworldly language that parts of the book seemed to be made up of.

It was slow going, but she had slowly but steadily been making her way through it, it contained more knowledge about glyphs than anything else she had come upon, it had to have the answers to her questions.

Since neither of the sisters could perform magic she didn't have a lot to go off of for transportation spells but flipping a page, her eyes lit up at some illustrations that definitely looked like what she was after.

A silhouette of half a witch in a glowing ring on one side of the page and on the other page, the other half coming out of another ring. At the bottom of the page was the most intricate glyph she had ever seen.

"Oh boy…" Luz frowned. It had many intricate and looping lines.

Her first few attempts rendered nothing but sizzling paper and small puffs of smoke that made her cough.

Her hand was cramping by her thirtieth attempt, but she kept on, shaking her hand out between completed lines.

It was at some point in the middle of the night that she tapped another completed glyph for it to glow a blinding yellow that made her shield her eyes before leaving the glowing circle, crackling like electricity, the middle of the circle was a gaping hole of pitch black.

Hesitantly she reached out, dipping her fingers into the hole, she met no resistance as her arm slid through the small circle and did not appear on the other side.

She pulled her hand back and wiggled her fingers experimentally. They were still attached, for which she was grateful. Not all of her glyph experiments had gone according to plan.

The fact that Lillith’s eyebrows were still growing back after she and Eda had tried to shoot glyph fireballs from their hands was a testemant to that.

That one still needed tinkering.

She crumpled up the still flickering glyph paper, snuffing out the spell and quickly drew out another and pressed her hand to it, thinking hard of a specific place; the kitchen table downstairs.

When she pulled her hand away and the small portal blazed to life. she held out her pencil and dropped it into the dark abyss at the center. It vanished and Luz jumped up, running out of her room and downstairs, sliding into the kitchen, holding her breath.

Laying there on the kitchen table, was the pencil.

Luz squealed, bouncing happily.

She snatched up the pencil and hurried back to her room and cleared a space on her floor before getting to work.

~ ~ ~

The next morning Lillith sat at the kitchen table, sipping on her morning tea with Eda, drowsily gulping down mouthfuls of apple blood and grumbling to herself as she tried to shake off her drowsiness in the quiet morning before King or Luz came thundering down the stairs.

"It quite peaceful this morning..." Lillith started.

"Give it time," Eda snorted groggily. If there was one thing the Owl House wasn't, it was peaceful.

A portal blazed to life in the center of the kitchen and both Clawthorne's jumped, cups and their contents going flying as Luz appeared, grinning ear to ear.

"It worked!" She jumped in place, laughing.

"Luz!?"

She blinked, turning to see Eda, apple blood spilled all down the front of her shirt and holding her staff out threateningly and Lillith blinking at her wide-eyed from the floor, teacup in her lap and spilled on her pajama pants.

"Eda, I did it!" She grinned. "I figured out the glyph for portals!"

"Whoa, so you did, kid…" Her mentor blinked, lowering her staff.

"Astounding…" Lillith mumbled, pulling herself up off the floor.

"I can't wait to show Amity!" Luz squealed before realization struck her. "Ahh, I'm going to be late for school!"

She turned and rushed out of the kitchen, leaving both women in her wake.

"Love you, bye!" Her voice drifted back to them before the sound of the door opening and slamming shut echoed through the house.

"Well…" Lillith breathed once the human tornado had gone and looked down at her tea-soaked clothes. "So much for a peaceful morning…"

Eda shook her head as a grin broke across her face.

"That kid…"

~ ~ ~

Amity knew something was up the minute school ended and Luz appeared at her locker practically vibrating with energy.

"Amity!" Luz was beaming from ear to ear as she pounced on the young witch, making her jump, but she quickly started laughing once she realized whose arms were wrapped around her neck.

"Hi, Luz." She grinned, some of the other girls infectious energy quickly rubbing off on her.

"Are you ready to go? I have something to show you," she rattled off, bouncing on her toes.

"Yes, I'm ready." She nodded, slipping some books into her locker.

"Come on then!" Luz wasted no time grabbing her hand and dragging her down the hall.

Instead of heading straight down the path that led from the school to Bonesburough, Luz pulled her around the side of the building that was partially hidden by some trees.

"Where are we going?" Amity questioned, struggling to keep up with her girlfriend’s rapid pace.

"Just wait." Luz grinned back at her.

Once they were behind the building and hidden from sight, Luz pulled something from her bag and quickly started drawing on the stone wall.

"What are you doing?" Amity watched her girlfriend carefully draw a large intricate glyph on the back wall of the school with a marker.

Luz glanced at her over her shoulder and grinned.

"It's a secret," she said coyly.

"It's not going to explode is it?" Amity frowned. Luz had been working hard on expanding her repertoire of spells, not all to the most desirable results, now that she terribly minded that the elder Clawthorne sister had been the one caught in the blast of Luz and Eda's last rendezvous with fire glyphs.

She was still sour on Lillith, both for using her to cheat at her and Luz's duel, but mostly using her girlfriend as bait and the almost killing her thing. Lillith made herself scarce when Amity came by the owl house, which secretly pleased Amity, despite the disapproving look Luz would give her.

Maybe Luz had decided to forgive her but Amity was still angry.

"I promise it won't," she chuckled sheepishly, knowing exactly what Amity was referring to.

The witch hummed, clearly not entirely convinced with Luz's words.

She took a step back to look over her work and nodded to herself, satisfied before turning back to Amity.

"Ready?" she asked. Amity hummed non-committedly.

Luz pressed both her hands to the glyph, eyes closed and a second later Amity was forced to shield her eyes as a bright light engulfed the area.

When it had faded Amity stared, open mouth at the large crackling portal.

"What?" She blinked.

"Ready?"

She turned back to Luz, holding out a hand, still grinning.

Amity hesitated.

"Trust me." Luz smiled, still patiently holding out her outstretched hand.

Amity didn't need much more prompting than that. She took Luz's hand and she was pulled into the abyss at the circles center.

Her stomach did a little flip and she could feel the magic surrounding them for a brief second before they were suddenly standing in the middle of her secret room.

"Ta~da." Luz grinned, shaking her hands as Amity looked around in wonder.

"How did you…?" She blinked in wonder, eyes flickering around the room before settling on Luz.

"I figured out how to make portals with glyphs, pretty cool, huh?" she asked.

"Is this what you've been working on all week?" she asked breathlessly, still astounded.

"Yeah!" Luz grinned. "I figured if we could teleport straight here from school that saves us a half hour and if I draw one up here you can teleport straight home. That gives us a whole nother hour we can spend together after school," she explained. "I'm still not quite sure about the range, but I think the bigger the circle the farther we can go, I haven't had much chance to play with it yet," she admitted with a thoughtful shrug.

"You spent all week working on this just so we'd have more time together?" Amity asked, her chest felt tight, but not in an unpleasant way.

"Well, yeah." Luz scratched the back of her head. "I just…" anything else she was going to say was cut off by Amity throwing her arms around her neck and squeezing. "Amity?"

The witch just squeezed tighter, burying her face in Luz's neck. The human blinked, feeling the drops of water on her neck, and immediately worry began to knaw in the pit of her stomach, but it was quickly dispelled when Amity spoke again.

"You're amazing, Luz," she breathed.

Luz wrapped her arms around her back and squeezed.

"Me? Naw, I just wanted more time with you," she chuckled. Amity laughed wetly against her skin before pulling back to look at her, gold eyes glassy with unshed tears.

"Yes, you really are."

#Lumity #Moonlit Masquerade #Amity Blight #Luz Noceda #Eda Clawthorne #Lillith Clawthorne #fic #toh #the owl house

81 notes · View notes

badger-writes · 3 years

Text

Star Wars OC Ship Week 2021 - “for light and love”

3 - Angst/Drama

When Jedi found themselves troubled, they visited the Room of a Thousand Fountains.

Throughout its history, this chamber of the Jedi Temple ziggurat had always been set aside as a meditative refuge, a sanctuary of verdant greenery and trickling waters. Assembled herein one could find a collection of flora both native and foreign, from blartree blossoms and chrysanthis shrubs to a bahnsgresk bush grove to trebala and assari trees, shading the walkways with their trunks and branches - a garden of a thousand worlds.

Though the caretakers of this special corner of the Temple had always strived to enforce a kind of olamic traditionalism to its furnishings, the spirit of the times sometimes encroached upon this timeless space; and so the High Republic crept into the Room of a Thousand Fountains by way of its masonry, which now favored heavy geometric influences, stylized decorative reliefs, and smooth, streamlined lines which swept their way around the room in a sheen of gold and marble. These elements existed alongside their landscaped counterpoints in a carefully cultivated balance; a chamber with one foot in the ageless past, and the next in the bold, brilliant future that the Republic promised to all.

Here, one could pause for a moment, immersed in the energy of the Living Force, and reflect upon themselves and their place in the universe.

It was not a place Sskeer visited often.

Though the paths were lined with benches to encourage thoughtful rest, he preferred to keep moving, pacing through the gardens at a stride just above his typical walking speed; his feet seemed to slap the stone walkways no matter how he tried to control himself, trying to beat out his frustrations through their soles. Not for the first time, he considered that the best place for him to ruminate on his disquiet was not the Room of a Thousand Fountains. In the sparring chambers, at least, he would be less… disruptive.

He rounded a corner, emerging from a grove of hedges, and stopped. At the end of the short path rolling out before him lay a plaza surrounding one of the chamber’s great sculpted fountain fixtures; a great bowl-shaped basin spread out from its center, and rising into the air within its circumference were several other, smaller basins, overflowing with hanging moss and vines and pakiphanto ear plants, each of them carrying a tiny stream of clear water which trickled from their highest point to their lowest and back again. A tiny column-shaped islet rose out of the center of the basin, only large enough to hold the holoprojector installed in its capital; out of the projector’s eye shimmered an image of one of the era’s eventual Great Works, the Starlight Beacon. The huge space station, when it was finished, would be an outpost of progress and charity to all the worlds of the Outer Rim, a promise of the prosperity of the Republic and the justice of the Jedi. It hovered above the surface of the waters, framed by the hanging gardens, spinning slowly on its axis. Even on this much, much smaller scale, Sskeer couldn’t help but be impressed.

Someone else was standing at the edge of the basin - a Rodian with pale skin and a rather distinctive topknot. Sskeer crossed the way over to his side.

“Healer Lem,” he rumbled, crossing his arms. “It’s good to see you.”

“Oh,” Kelto mumbled, glancing. “Hello, Sskeer.”

“You appear troubled.”

“Am I so obvious?”

“It is no sin. I find myself frustrated tonight as well.”

Kelto hummed. The sound of it was hollow - less inquisitive, more melancholy. “I don’t know if I can help with that, but, you know… let me know.”

Sskeer cocked his head. “Why would you think that?”

“I just - I’m not a Consular, that’s all. Cuts and bruises, I can handle. The talking thing, it’s… I don’t do that so well.”

“Perhaps. But even so, as long as you’re here... I would appreciate your company. And I sense you would benefit from mine.”

“I… maybe. I guess.”

The Trandosham crossed his arms and raised an brow. “Perhaps you would like to discuss what’s been troubling you?”, he suggested.

Kelto opened his mouth… and closed it. “No, no. That’s okay. Thank you, but... I’ll manage.”

“Are you sure?”

“I mean, it’s pretty late already. The last thing you must want is to stand here and listen to my problems.”

“Try me.”

A shrug.

Sskeer exhaled slowly through his nose. His gaze flicked back to the pool before them, where waterlilies floated tranquilly upon the rippling face of the waters.

“I think I should insist,” he said quietly. “As a friend.”

“... I don’t want to burden you.”

“It wouldn’t be a burden.” A pause. “Not from you.”

Sighing, Kelto fell silent. He, too, kept his eyes fixed on the pond’s mirrorlike surface. Then, slowly, his gaze turned upwards, towards the hologram suspended above them.

“That’s really something,” he said wonderingly. “Isn’t it? The Beacon, I mean. It’s just... incredible. That the Republic and the Jedi can build something like that? Imagine what it can do for people living on the frontier.”

Nodding, Sskeer studied the diagram as well. “A space station on the galactic fringe can do little by itself,” he commented. “It needs people, too. Diplomats, explorers…”

“Guardians,” Kelto said wryly.

“Yes. And healers.” Sskeer gave him a sympathetic glance. “It would be an honor to be stationed there, would it not?”

The Rodian pursed his lips. They flattened into a noncommittal line as he shrugged. “Not really my thing,” he mumbled.

“I find it hard to believe you’d refuse an assignment where you could do so much good so easily.”

“Yeah, well.” And then Kelto went silent, leaning against the rim of the fountain.

Sskeer let his arms fall to his sides, brow furrowing. “You’re serious.”

A sad little shrug.

“You’d really waste your talents hiding in the Temple, rather than using them for the good of others? Without even an explanation? Are you so callous?”

In truth, he almost regretted saying it. But it did, at least, provoke a reaction from Kelto, who turned away from the fountain at last. “I’m not callous.”

“Selfish, then. Hoarding your knowledge and abilities for one one’s benefit but your own. Or perhaps just cowardly?”

“W-what is this, Sskeer? An inquisition? I thought you were trying to help me!”

“I am,” he said firmly. “But I don’t know what’s wrong. Blast it, Lem, it’s as if you’ve just… given up!”

Irritation launched his voice an octave higher than he meant, transforming a sentence into a bark. The lilies bobbed on the water. For a moment, Starlight Beacon flickered.

For a moment, Kelto stared at him agape, and Sskeer noticed his eyes (the first thing he’d noticed about him had been his eyes, long months ago, and the shiny white spots lying just under their aqueous outer membrane, that peculiar Rodian quality of seeming to hold a sky’s worth of stars in their surface) seemed brittle, now, and dull. Where there had once been light there was now not dark, but … an absence. An open pit in the soul.

Sskeer’s heart panged with sorrow. What frustration still lingered on his face passed like a fleeting shadow. Silently, he waited.

At last, Kelto sighed, clasping his hands back behind his waist; his fingers continued to fidget and twiddle as he turned back to the pond. For a moment, Sskeer feared he had broken their friendship, perhaps irrepairably.

Then Kelto said, “So the thing is… I’m kind of a bad Jedi.”

“No,” the Trandoshan insisted in a whisper.

“I am, Sskeer. What you said is true. And what’s more, you’re right to call me out. I’m cowardly, and selfish, and I hide myself in the healing wards instead of really doing anything with the talent and opportunities that I’ve been given. I…” He snorted, shaking his head. “I’m at the point where I fear being in public more than I fear the dark side. How stupid is that?”

Sskeer swallowed, mouth dry. He wondered what he could possibly say.

“I just… I don’t know how it happened. I was fine in the creche, I think. I- I had friends, I got along with people. I could… Star’s End, I could hold one conversation with somebody else without falling all to pieces, like I do with you.”

“That’s not your fault,” Sskeer said quickly. “I - that is, we - there’s... extenuating circumstances. Passion is just - ”

“Yeah, HoloNet news flash: feelings are hard,” Kelto murmured darkly. “Believe me, big guy, I know.”

“I only wanted to--” Sskeer grunted, biting his tongue. If only Jora Malli were here to help him talk some sense into Kelto.

“But then I grew up,” Kelto continued. “And I was still, you know, okay! I could… work with my Master, and with others, and I helped people… and then I was knighted, and I just… there was all this shyness and anxiety inside of me, and it just kept growing and growing and growing until… until I just couldn’t take other people anymore, except when I had the energy for it.

“I think that’s the real reason I transferred back to the Temple. I just… couldn’t take it anymore, putting myself out there. At least in the medical bay, it’s just a job. You can find a niche and serve and go back to your quarters. You don’t have to… to be seen all the time.

“But who did I serve, huh? Younglings with scraped knees and bloody noses. Nobody who really needed it. Nobody who would’ve died if I hadn’t been there. Meanwhile, how many people on the frontier do you think need a healer right now? How many won’t last the night? Because right now, Sskeer, I’m letting down all of them. And believe me, I know it.”

Kelto paused, taking a gulp of air, and looked up at the brilliant blue hologram again. “And then I heard about Starlight Beacon. And I felt… I felt something, deep down. Like the Force was trying to give me a second chance. Like I could - like I could make up for all of it, if I could only just get over myself.

“And I tried to,” he said thickly, snout quivering. “Please, Sskeer - believe whatever you want about me, but please, please believe I tried to fix whatever’s wrong with me. But-- b-but I just--”

Sskeer took him by the elbow and turned him back towards himself, grasping his much smaller arms in his clawed fingers. “Don’t talk this way,” he murmured. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not true.”

“W-well, maybe it is,” Kelto hiccupped, eyes wet. His face crumpled more and more the longer he spoke. “After everything with me, and then you, and the Code -- maybe I just can’t hack it as a Jedi. Maybe I was never supposed to, a-and I just got lucky, and now - and now I - ”

“What, Kelto?”

“And now I’m dragging you down with me.”

For a long moment, they stood there, staring at each other. Kelto sniffled horribly, scrubbing at his eyes with the heel of one hand. Sskeer’s mouth hung slightly agape, but his mind seemed to be lost somewhere, thrown far away.

“Just let me go,” he whispered, blinking hard. “Please. I- I’ll go, okay? I can just… leave. The Jedi - they’ll all be better off, and - a-and so will you.”

“No,” Sskeer said suddenly. His grip tightened around Kelto’s arms like a vise.

“I-I’m serious, big guy. I think… I think I’m done. I tried, and-- and I failed.”

“You listen to me, little healer. You will not leave, and you will not give up on yourself, do you understand? I won’t allow it. I refuse to.”

“Sskeer - Sskeer, please, come on. I’m not worth it--”

“Yes you are,” the Trandoshan hissed. “Even if you won’t see it.”

“Look here,” he continued, seizing one of the Rodian’s wrists. He pushed the palm of Kelto’s hand into his chest, letting his fingers splay out against his robes, over his heart. “Remember what you did here, for someone you barely knew. Remember how you used your gift for nothing else than to help a creature in need. Does that seem like failure to you?”

Kelto shrugged weakly, trembling.

“And then you confronted that fear and anxiety inside, that same day, and every day after that. All for the sake of me. Would a coward do that, Kelto?”

“I… I don’t know. Maybe?” He swallowed. “I-it was hard, sometimes.”

“I know this now, Kelto. I wish I had before. Perhaps I could have… helped, somehow. Or found some way to help you reach out.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” the Rodian muttered, hanging his head. “This - this isn’t something you could have fixed, Sskeer. It was always my problem alone.”

Sskeer growled, deep in his throat. When he turned back to face the pond, he kept his arm around Kelto’s back, still clasping his arm - holding him gently against his side.

“You remind me of myself,” he said finally.

“Now that’s a joke,” Kelto said, sniffing. “I’m - I’m a hot mess, Sskeer. You, you’re just… you’re everything a Jedi Knight should be. You’re magnificent. How could you possibly compare yourself to somebody like me?”

“Did you think you were the only one who doubted his place in the Order?”

Kelto looked up at Sskeer, stunned. The Trandoshan, in turn, stared into the fountain. Starlight Beacon’s reflection glimmered in his eyes; slowly, as he let a sigh out through his nostrils, they fell shut.

“I have… often found myself uncertain about my place in the Jedi,” he said at length. “There are times when our teachings and precepts seem to be... fundamentally incompatible with - who I am. Or, what I am.”

He raised one three-fingered hand out before him, looking down at it, turning it this way and that. He examined the thick scales which lined his skin, the blunt claws that tipped each finger. Shame crept into the lines of his face.

“I am Trandoshan. I know this is no surprise to you - and I, myself, have had many years to acquaint myself with this truth. But for many in the galaxy, when they meet a Jedi Knight for the first time, it is a… surprising thing. For some, it’s even… repulsive. And for that, I cannot judge them.

“The T’doshok may be my race, but I could never call them my people. Not for their instincts for slaughter and cruelty, not for their hunters who trap animals and slaves for their sport, not their ‘Scorekeeper’ who tallies points to the scale of their butchery - the very thought of It is anathema to life itself. A… disgusting perversion of the natural order of the universe. I can be party to none of it.

“And yet-- if not for the Seekers, I might have been. Had the course of my life taken one turn and not another, it would be I hunting the innocent and the weak, soaking my claws in the blood and the filth of that detestable culture. And I’m reminded of that whenever I meet those I’m oathsworn to protect - and the world I’ve left behind is all of myself that they can see.”

“W-well - well, that’s just - that’s just other people, Sskeer, they don’t know any better. And besides, you’ve - you’ve overcome that through your training, right? And your discipline. So.. so it’s not even a problem.”

“Were it so easy to believe,” Sskeer exhaled, clenching his fist.

“What do you mean?”

“There are… moments. When I speak, when I act. When I swing my lightsaber. There’s a - it’s like a beast, Kelto. Like a dragon, inside of me, coiled around my heart. My intensity, ferocity… my frustration… I think this is where they come from. For a long time I believed I was battling the Dark Side, the little bit of it within us all, as a Jedi should. But… perhaps it is deeper than that. Perhaps it is an instinct, a genetic memory. Something in the blood.

Perhaps, as you said, it’s something about myself that can’t be fixed.”

He didn’t know what he’d expected would happen - perhaps a weight would lift from his shoulders. Perhaps the shadow which clung to his heart and his mind would finally pass when he was able to find the words, and speak them. But something would happen, surely, when he finally let this secret shame pass his lips.

Instead, he felt exactly the same. Life was proceeding exactly as it had before. Nothing had changed.

He was still a Jedi. He was still a Trandoshan.

Kelto was still looking at him. He still seemed stricken, but no longer as badly rattled. Sskeer let his hand fall back to his side and turned his face back towards the hologram of Starlight Beacon.

“But perhaps that’s not the point,” he continued. “If we could all banish the flaws within ourselves for all time with only a little effort, we would all be totally perfect creations. Perhaps the point is not whether our feet will always keep to the path of the righteous, but that we walk it as best we can, because the promise of something better lies at its end. Perhaps how far we can walk it does not matter, so long as we remain willing to take another step.

“That is what I think, anyway. And that is why I stay. And as long as I believe that, I can beat back the darkness inside of me a little longer.”

Kelto stared up at him wonderingly. He turned to watch the hologram as well, and for a moment’s pause they watched it slowly turning on the surface of the water, surrounded by verdant, flowering life.

“Every life saved, every battle won, every choice made - every time we turn towards the light, is its own victory. All of it, so that we might bring a light as brilliant as this into the universe,” Sskeer observed. “But we must confront our fears and doubts, and conquer them, before they extinguish our own. How else can we make such things be?”

Kelto tried to swallow, and choked. He brought his fingers up to clasp the Trandoshan’s where they curled around his arm. They didn’t feel monstrous at all. They felt like a friend’s.

“You… you really think I can do it?”

“I know it.”

“I-- gods,” he whispered. “I just-- I’ve tried to go it alone for so long.”

“You shall do so no longer.” Gently, Sskeer turned the Rodian to face him, clasping his hands in his own. “On my oath as a Guardian, Kelto Lem, I vow to do all I can to help you conquer these inner demons. If I must, I will protect you from yourself, as I have tonight. From this moment forward, your pain shall be mine, too - until we banish it forever, no matter how long that takes.

“In turn, I must ask that you swear to join me in this effort with equal vigor and equal determination, until - by virtue of our own will and discipline - you are once more the Jedi that I believe you can be.

“For light and for life.”

“...For light and for life,” Kelto echoed.

Sskeer hummed, nodding. He touched his knuckle against the bottom of Kelto’s chin. “You’re on your oath, now,” he rumbled. “No more talk of leaving.”

“R-right.” The healer took a shaky breath, swallowing, then forced it out slowly through his lips. “I-- thank you, Sskeer. This - this was a dark night for me. The darkest in a while.”

“I shall ward them away,” he replied, a hand to his chest. “That they may torment you no longer. And,” he added, smiling, “you in turn, I think, shall do the same for me.”

Kelto smiled too, brittlely, lips trembling at their corners. Finally, when he could bear it no longer, he threw himself into Sskeer’s arms, burying his face in his chest.

“Thank you,” he mumbled through happy sobs. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…!”

Slowly, Sskeer returned the hug, wrapping his arms as securely around Kelto as he could without crushing him. The Rodian was stood on his toes, swaying, trying to make himself as tall as himself; he shushed into his ear softly, stroking the back of his head with the pads of his fingers.

“I love you so much, Sskeer,” Kelto confessed.

Sskeer shushed him again. The healer was already emotionally compromised enough for one night. There would be time enough to untangle those feelings later - time enough for them both.

Instead, Sskeer held Kelto against his chest and gazed up at the dream of Starlight Beacon, and hoped that one day, both of them would be worthy enough to reach it.

#StarWarsOCShipWeek2021 #star wars #high republic #sskeer #original character #oc x canon #fanfic

4 notes · View notes

billyhargrove-imagines · 4 years

Text

Kindred Outsiders: Pt. 1

Pairings: Billy Hargrove x OC

Warnings: Cursing

Word Count: 2374

A/N: Hello! This story was originally posted on my fanfiction.com account but I decided to bring it to tumblr as well :) Anyhow, this story is going to take place in the beginning of summer & will later lead up to the events starting in the beginning of season 3. Gif used isn’t mine. Enjoy!

Indiana is…different.

I moved out here merely two weeks ago from Los Angeles, California. My father died from a plane crash over a month ago. He was on his way home from a business trip. My mother, on the other hand, isn't in the picture because she passed away from cancer 5 years ago. I was 15 years old at the time.

I couldn't stand being alone in my father's mansion any longer. It just wasn't the same without him. It caused me nothing but pain having to enter a home where I am not greeted a simple 'hello' from my father. Dinners were always lonely so I ended up resorting to going out with friends almost every night for dinner, followed by drinking at home from my father's in-home bar.

When it came around to bedtime, I felt a pit in my stomach whenever I passed my father's office and didn't see the light shining under the crack of the door. He always worked in his office late.

One day I made a bold move by giving my aunt Joyce a call and moved in with her in Indiana a month after the incident. Aunt Joyce is my father's sister.

Her small house is nothing compared to mine and lacked the useless amenities I was used to. But I didn't care. Living here so far with her, Will and Jonathan was much better than living back in California all alone. Sure, I had friends but it doesn't compare to family.

Since I am an only child of my parents, I inherited all of their money. I also made a selfless decision and paid off my aunt's mortgage. When I told her the news, I was thanked with a slap across the face followed by a tight hug. She never wanted any handouts from my parents in the past and still doesn't til this day.

It is 1pm and I just clocked out for my short shift at this clothing store in the starcourt mall. Yes, I have a great amount of money in my bank account, but I still wanted to keep myself occupied by working a part time job. I didn't want to just sit on my ass all day. Especially since I still don't know what I want to do for my career. I am 20 years old and time is ticking, but I don't want to waste my time and money on schooling when I don't know what the hell I want to do yet.

After every shift I've been stopping by the ice cream shop, Scoops Ahoy and I always see the same duo, Steve and Robin. I've become quite acquainted with them and I learned so far that they're fresh out of high school.

"Let me guess, rocky road?" Steve said with a grin.

"You know me too well, Steve." I replied with a smile, stretching my arm out to hand him cash.

"God Steve. Just ask her out already." Robin added, rolling her eyes playfully and crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned against the back counter.

"Can you not?" Steve snapped his head at Robin, cheeks flushed red.

"Very funny, Robin." I let out a chuckle and waved goodbye to the duo as I licked my delicious ice cream on my way out.

As usual, I took my time walking through the mall. I wanted to make sure I finished my ice cream before I arrived to my car and headed home. A variety of families, couples and friends seemed to be enjoying their shopping trips. Though word on the news is that many local business owners are enraged about the mall being built due to losing business.

A familiar female voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "Hi Victoria!" Aria, my eccentric coworker greeted me, her shoulder-length blonde hair bouncing as she kept up to my steps.

"Hey Aria, I thought you're off today?" I asked, still enjoying my ice cream.

"Yeah I was just shopping around for a gift for my mom's birthday next week." She briefly lifted the shopping bag in her hand. "Did you just get off or are you on lunch?"

"Um, I just got off."

"Yay! I'm going to the pool after this. Join me so I'm not alone!" She suggested. "There's also this hot hot hot lifeguard they hired last week. I went to school with him!"

"Okay sure. But I'm not really into that."

"Come on, Victoria." Aria groaned. "I know you don't have any plans today."

"No I meant the hot lifeguard or whatever. Not into that." I gave a dismissive wave of my hand before taking a generous lick of my ice cream.

"Oh. You're into girls? So sorry. I didn't know."

I snorted in amusement, but internally I was rolling my eyes at her. She's always been quick to make assumptions.

"No no no. I like boys." I made known. "I just don't care to drool over a piece of meat. But I'm down to take a dip in the pool."

"Oh! Okay. Sorry. Sorry again."

"It's fine Aria," I dragged. "I'm gonna go home and change out of this and I'll meet you there."

"Yay! Okay bye!" Aria shouted with glee before going our separate ways. She sure can be annoyingly hyper sometimes, but she's the only real girlfriend I've made here so far. Robin is always working and when she is off, she's always busy doing god knows what.

Like clockwork, my ice cream was finished off before I made it outside to my car. Or should I say my late father's black 1984 Porsche 911. It's quite showy for someone who now lives in Indiana, but this car was my father's baby. I'm never letting go of this.

The Rubberband Man by The Spinners blasted on my stereo as I drove to Aunt Joyce's house. Music from the 70s has always stuck with me. On my face are my favorite pair of black aviator sunglasses.

After a moment of driving down the familiar roads, I pull into the front of my aunt's house. I take the keys out of the ignition, remove my aviators, hop out of my car and enter the non vacant home. "Hey Jonathan." I greeted my cousin who is watching television on the couch with a full plate and fork in his hands.

"Hey there, Vic. You're home early." He said with a full mouth. I hummed in response before scurrying to my bedroom.

I searched through my dresser drawers until I found the perfect bikini for my mood, which is a two piece. I paired my black cheeky bottoms with a neon green strapless top. After quickly peeling off my work attire and slipping into my bikini, I made sure to at least cover up my ass cheeks with denim shorts before throwing on a pair of sandals.

Now I am out the door, tossing my bag of pool essentials in the passenger seat and making sure not to forget my aviators. The sun is at its peak and I am ready to cool off.

Minutes later I pull into the parking lot of the community pool for the first time since moving down here. I've driven past it plenty of times but never had the need to go yet until Aria randomly invited me.

Exiting my car with my bag under my arm and my aviators on, I hear various sounds at a short distance of people enjoying themselves in the water.

The sun is beaming down at me as I'm making my way through the gate, glancing around until I find Aria. "Victoria! Hey!" She shouted with glee, waving her hand. I found her lying on the pool lounger.

"Hey Aria." I greeted, placing my bag on the ground.

"Go on in the pool if you want. I'm waiting for him to show up for his shift. It should be any moment now!"

"Really?" Sitting down at the foot of the empty pool lounger, I shook my head at Aria in disapproval.

She scoffed. "Oh don't give me that look, Victoria." I shook my head at her, dropping my shorts and tossing it in my bag.

Aria let out a gasp out of the blue, sitting up straight. "Speaking of Billy. There he is!"

"Where?" I asked, casually pulling a flask out of my bag. I'm not an alcoholic and I don't plan to get plastered, but a little buzz is well deserved.

Aria doesn't respond. Instead, I scan my surroundings until I spotted the only male lifeguard walking the grounds to my left. He is tastefully shirtless, wearing red swim shorts, a whistle necklace and brown aviator shades. His dirty blonde hair is styled into a mullet, which surprisingly fits his face perfectly.

Billy's head snapped my direction as I'm taking a swig out of my whiskey filled flask. I couldn't tell if he was directly looking at me due to the shades masking his eyes, but all of the women's eyes were on him. And by the swagger of his steps, I can tell he's reveling in it.

"Eh." I shrugged my shoulders, once Billy passed me and sat comfortably in the lifeguard chair. "He's alright." I lied.

From his perfectly tanned skin to his flawlessly sculpted muscles, it's as if his body was made by angels. Even from a distance, I could see that his plump lips could lose any woman in his kiss. But no, I had to feign being unimpressed because a man that looks like that is bad news for me.

"Are you freaking kidding me?" She briskly pulled her sunglasses off, shooting me a look of disgust.

"Are your sunglasses blinding you?"

I snorted. "Nope. I can see perfectly clear."

"Ugh! If you think that Billy Hargrove is just alright, then I don't even want to know what kind of men you consider perfect." Aria mentioned seriously to me as she laid back and placed her sunglasses back on.

"Don't care. I'm going for a dip." I threw my flask back inside my bag before rising to my feet towards the pool to swim a few laps.

Stroking through the water, there is no one alive who can stop me. It's a moment like this that makes me miss the beaches in California. But I close my eyes and lose myself, pretending that's exactly where I am.

Unaware how long I've been swimming to and fro, I do one more lap before I take a break and reward myself with another sip of whiskey.

As I am motioning out of the water and my feet are planted onto the cement, a deep, male voice captures my attention. "Here."

I look and it is the stud himself, Billy Hargrove handing me a towel. "Oh thanks." I accepted with a soft smile, almost hesitant because I have a towel in my bag but I didn't want to seem rude.

I begin pat drying my long, black hair with the towel and begin sauntering towards my designated pool lounger, but Billy halts me, "Hey sweetheart." I spun around to face him with furrowed brows. "What's your name?" He asked, removing his glasses to reveal his annoyingly beautiful, blue eyes.

"Victoria. And you?" I asked even though I already know.

"The name's Billy." He said, randomly placing a piece of gum in his mouth which caused me to catch a glance at his lips, then to his abs and back to his eyes. I swear I saw the corner of his lip quirk up when he caught me. "Nice to meet ya Victoria."

"You too Billy." The sun was so hot that I didn't even need to dry off my body anymore. Instead, I threw the towel over my shoulder.

"Am I mistaken or is this your first time here?" He asked, smacking his gum as he's indiscreetly giving me an elevator look.

"No you're right." Before Billy had the chance to speak any further, I pointed behind him towards the pool. "Hey, I think there's a kid drowning over there."

Just as I predicted, he cautiously looked over his shoulder and that's when I made a beeline towards my pool lounger next to Aria.

"You. Dumb. Bitch." Aria remarked with obvious displeasure as I'm searching for my flask. "I can't be friends with you anymore."

"What now, Aria?"

"Billy the hottie was obviously into you and you blew it! Ugh, the things I'd do to be in your shoes right now."

"Oh please. He's just another pretty boy that wants one thing." I implied before taking a sip. "Go over there and talk to him yourself then." Flickering my eyes, I am now seeing that Billy's back on his lifeguard chair.

"Um no. If Billy wants somebody, Billy always makes the first move. Do I look like I want to embarrass myself right now?"

"If you say so." I said, readjusting the pool lounger so that it was flat and I lied on my stomach, using my arms as a makeshift pillow. "Can you rub sunscreen on me and wake me up in 30. I'm taking a nap."

Being the good friend that she is, Aria stole the sunscreen from my bag and did as I asked. She knows I'd do the same for her.

"I know you can't see right now," she started after a minute of no words exchanged, "but he's looking over here. Probably at your ass." She paused. "I wouldn't blame him though."

She's right. I do have a nice ass.

"Billy can stare all he wants. What do I care?" I uttered lazily, eyes closed and ready to sleep.

"You're insane! If I can't have him, then can you have him for me? And tell me if it is big!" She whisper shouted, rubbing the last bit of sunscreen needed on me.

"Im not having sex with anyone, Aria. Especially not him. I'm taking my nap now."

Billy is just another handsome face with a Calvin Klein body which doesn't impress me because it seems like he's used to getting any woman he wants. But I'm not any other woman, so he can use that charm on the next one for all I care.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fluff #dacre montgomery #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #joe keery #robin buckley #maya hawke #jonathan byers #joyce byers

95 notes · View notes

mahalkitajohnnysuh · 4 years

Text

JN (Part I)

And we’re back with more Johnny content here! Of course, he’s the apple of my eye, my ultimate current bias, the love of my life, and the list go on. But I do get tempted by other good-looking K-pop men sometimes...

Here’s a GIF of him looking adorable with some noticeable blush. The color reminds me of Glossier Cloud Paint in Storm, but of course, I could be wrong. Drop that blush shade, dude!

Mahal ko kayong lahat! :)

–––

Summary: These pieces were inspired by a prompt list by @neoculturedrabbles. Since you guys know how I feel about Johnny, please expect that the next installments will feature two prompts in it too.

POV: 2nd person since I wrote this late last year. I know; you’re getting tired of reading that over and over.

Word count: 1,800 words

–––

Prompt #1: “Shut up!”

“Make me!”

Now that you and Johnny were a couple, that didn’t stop him from annoying you to tears.

You were working on an article at the dining table when you heard him sing Whitney Houston’s ‘I Will Always Love You’ off-key. He was at the kitchen, cooking his trademark omelets for breakfast.

“John, please!” You shrieked, turning your head towards the kitchen. “Can you pipe it down? I’m trying to work here!”

He responded by continuing the song, his voice more off-key than before.

You rolled your eyes and went back to your laptop, huffing in annoyance.

A few minutes later, Johnny emerged from the kitchen with your breakfast, and he was now singing Heart’s ‘Alone’ in the same irritating manner.

“Love, what’s up with you? Why are you annoying me? Do you know I’m about to have my period soon?” You said when he placed a plate of omelet and rice in front of you.

“I’m not doing anything unusual,” he said, this time placing a cup of coffee beside your breakfast, “I’m just being myself, you know?” He winked at you and patted your shoulder.

“But baby, you know when I’m in front of my laptop, I’m most likely working,” you grumbled, now taking the cup of coffee to sip on it.

“I can never tell,” he sat on the seat across from you, “Maybe you’re just reading hentai or playing your porn games,” he wiggled his eyebrows for effect, and you almost spit your coffee.

You just flipped him the bird and took another sip of the coffee he made. As always, he got your preferred taste perfectly – strong and sweet, just like he is.

“How dare you, Suh Youngho! I don’t do that anymore!”

“Yes, you do! You fell asleep with your Incognito window on a hentai comic the other day!”

That was the last straw, and you went to his side and pinched his cheeks. “You silly boy! Stop taunting me!” You squeaked, pinching his cheeks harder while he laughed at your flushed and annoyed face.

“No, I’m not going to stop teasing you! It’s also my job to annoy you since your sisters are out!” He said in between your pinching.

“Johnnyyyyy!” Your hands snaked their way around his neck, and you felt tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. “Shut up!”

“Make me!” He challenged, his face serious.

Now that was something you didn’t expect – he had his poker face on, and he seemed calm. You let go of your hands around his neck and settled them on his shoulders.

But when he gave you his trademark wink, you felt miffed again. You decided to play his game and pecked him on the lips instead.

You weren’t able to get away from him since he locked you in his embrace and deepened the kiss.

As your tongues clashed against each other, you gasped when you felt something poking beneath you. Ugh, not again! He was turned on with what you did, and you tasted like coffee, of course.

You let go when you felt very bothered by his boner and pinched his nose this time.

“You big freak,” you huffed, raising your middle finger at him again, “You’re such a tease, you know?”

“I know, baby,” Johnny had the guts to lick his lips in front of you, “and I’m going to taunt you every day with all my loving.”

“Can we have breakfast now?” You got your spoon and fork and started digging into your meal.

“Sure thing, baby,” He said while he moved his plate and drink beside you. When he was done, he sat on the chair to your left and fed you a spoonful of rice and omelet. “Say ‘ah,’” he instructed in a flirty tone, which you obeyed.

“Don’t be so grumpy, my baby princess,” he cooed, wiping the excess rice on the top of your lip.

“But I’m about to have my period! My chest feels heavier, and I feel more bloated,” you whined.

“Even if your boobs don’t get bigger and you don’t look plumper, you are always a grumpy girl,” it was now his turn to pinch your cheek.

You crossed your arms over your chest and looked away from him. Since his hand was still on your chin, he tilted it again toward his direction.

“If you promise me that you won’t be grumpy anymore, I’ll stop teasing you.”

You sighed in defeat and nodded. “Okay, I’ll try my best.”

“No buts! You should do it. You look the most beautiful when you smile.”

You pinched his arm in embarrassment and went back to eating with your head down. “You are such a flirt, love. But thank you.”

“You’re welcome, baby.” He kissed the side of your head, and both of you ate in silence after.

///

Prompt #12: “You’re a pain in the ass, you know?”

“Yeah, but I’m your pain the ass.”

Your head was throbbing in pain because a) you lack sleep, and b) Johnny was being such a pain in the ass to deal with.

As you searched the cabinet for some Advil, you saw a pair of long arms reach over you and grabbed a large pink pillbox.

You turned around to see it was the source of your headache, grinning sheepishly at you. “I assume you need Advil?”

You nodded in response, silently grabbing the pillbox from him. You went to the dining table where a glass of water was waiting for you and opened the box to get your much-needed medicine.

You felt Johnny’s eyes on you as you swallowed the pill and drank water. You closed your eyes for a bit, savoring its bitter taste in your mouth.

But then, you remembered all the things he did during the previous week that got on your nerves.

He hid your strawberry-flavored Greek yogurt from the fridge just when you were craving for it.

He placed your usual mug in the highest cupboard the day after he was in charge of doing the dishes. You had to climb up the sink just so you can reach it, and he laughed at your attempt to grab it the first time you discovered it was up there.

He woke you up by replacing your alarm with his voice recording remixed with EDM beats. He laughed again when he saw your grumpy reaction, your hair sticking all over the place as you chased him around the house with your pillow.

He used your favorite tote bag (which you waited for ages to be restocked!) when he went grocery shopping all by himself, ruining it in the process. Now it was under his care, and you didn’t know if he has finished mending it yet.

But the most annoying thing that he did was when he tickled you to tears when you didn’t wake him up when he needed to be up early for a schedule. Although he seemed annoyed at first, he was also in tears from laughter as he saw you writhe in his touch.

You let out a huge groan before lying on the couch. “This headache sucks,” you said, curling up on the sofa.

“You need some rest, baby,” you heard Johnny say, who was now standing in front of you. He wore a basketball jersey and jogging pants, which was his usual home attire.

But as always, you were distracted with his big and meaty guns. You grabbed the pillow at your foot and covered your face in it so you couldn’t see his towering figure over you.

“I’m resting right now. Please,” you looked at him briefly, “stop annoying me. You’re one of the reasons why my head is throbbing right now,” you covered your face with the pillow again.

“Oh, but why me? I have been nothing but good to you!” You felt an additional weight at the end of the sofa, which meant that he sat down beside you.

“But you kept on annoying me by hiding my food, ruining my stuff, and most of all, you almost tickled me to death!” You threw the pillow at him, which he caught. He held it in front of him and looked at you with puppy eyes.

“But Essie! You know that’s one of the ways to show that I love you!” He whined while making cute faces at you.

“Johnny, there are times that I appreciate it, and there are times that I do not,” you grumbled, now sitting up on the couch. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know?”

“Yeah, but I’m your pain in the ass,” he responded smoothly, running one of his hands through his hair.

“Ugh, Suh Youngho!” You groaned, lying back on the couch again. As soon as your back hit the sofa, you were flustered to see him on top of you with a Cheshire cat grin on his face.

“But you’re so cute when you’re grumpy!” He said playfully before his hands went to your sides and tickled you until you were in tears again.

“I’ll get you for this, John!” You said in between wheezing and kicking.

The tall guy snickered, but then he looked at you with concern when he noticed that your tears didn’t stop falling. He stopped tickling you and wiped your tears away. “Sorry, baby,” he whispered, now kissing your forehead.

You shut your eyes for the nth time today, processing this intimate moment you got yourself into. He was too close, and you could feel his breath against your forehead. Your body felt warm from head to toe, and his body felt that way as well.

But come to think of it, your head stopped pounding. You opened your eyes and saw that he gave you the sweetest smile before kissing your temple.

“Do you feel better now?”

“Surprisingly, yes. I feel much better now,” you gently pushed him away from you as you sat up once more. “But I think I should still get some rest.”

“That you do need, baby. Come,” he held your hand and led you to your room. “I’ll tuck you in.”

“No, John! I’m fine. You don’t have to do that for me,” you mumbled, looking away from him as he squeezed the hand he held.

“I insist. I want to make it up to you for being a pain in the ass.”

“But you’ll always be even if you do sweet shit like this, you know?”

“Yeah, I do. But still, please? Can I tuck my surly baby in bed?” He pleaded, blinking his eyelashes cutely at you.

“Ugh, fine. I request for hair brushing and thigh tapping too, please.”

“Anything for my dear Essie,” he said before carrying you into your bedroom bridal-style.

–––

FIN

42 notes · View notes

writingsfromstarfleet · 4 years

Text

I Never Hated You - Odo X Reader

A/N: Hello! This is a request for the ever awesome @cat-with-a-keyboard I do hope you enjoy it! Same goes for you lot too, I hope you all like it, apologies for how long it is, I cannot for the life of me ever figure out where to end a story, I go on forever haha :’) x

"Why does everything blow up in my face, Julian?" you sighed, taking a sip of your drink.

"Figuratively or literally?" he asked, jokingly trying to lighten your mood. A deep sarcastic remark came from behind you. Knowing who it was, you didn't bother so much as to turn around.

"Maybe if you spent more time focusing on your job and less time with Doctor Bashir then perhaps you'd have succeeded."

All you were trying to do was vent out your frustrations of an experiment in engineering not going to plan with Julian over a drink, and Odo just had to comment. Always, without fail, he'd have some form of quip or a jab at you where he could.

"Must you always be like this?" you asked, boredom and exasperation lacing your words. Every single day he did this, every single day he'd have something to say, and you were at your wits end with it all.

"Only for as long as you continue to fail at doing your job correctly." He huffed and walked away; you were seething. Everything about the way he was irritated you to no end. Snapped out of your thoughts by a hand coming to rest on your shoulder, you breathed out to calm yourself down.

"Lovers quarrels, there's something there with you two, I just know it. I'll be at your wedding one day" Julian commented, the smug smile he always wore and his eyes lit up with mischief. That look, however was met with a less than approving stare from you. You huffed incredulously.

"Or a funeral if he carries on."

You'd spent the rest of your day going about your daily tasks with ease, you were thankful it was one of your relatively stress free days. Though you couldn't help but mull over Julian's words back in Quarks, try as you might.

What did he mean by that? Couldn't he see that you and Odo despised each other, that you couldn't even be in the same room without a fight? You'd wondered if you had missed something, or wondered just what Julian saw that you didn't. Your mind wandered to Odo. He wasn't a bad looking guy, and he could be nice, at least to others, from what you saw. His intelligence and dedication to his job were obvious.

'What am I doing?' You thought as you mentally slapped yourself. You were supposed to hate him, you were chalk and cheese, fought like cat and dog. Yet, here you were, thinking of him as though you were anything but. Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you went about your business and pushed it out of your mind.

Odo was in Quarks, as always, keeping a close eye on the Ferengi. His usual. However, Odo found himself distracted too, by thoughts of you from earlier in the day. If he was honest with himself, he didn't know why he acted the way he did toward you. You were smart, a fool could see that. Odo couldn't deny that he found you to be rather beautiful too, despite the incessant need you seemed to have to argue with him. Catching himself in his thoughts, he huffed aloud and continued on his day, patrolling the Promenade, having given up spying on Quark.

A couple of days had passed and neither of you had seen the other, your work keeping you locked in the engineering room, determined to get your experiment right. Odo was lying to himself if he said he didn't miss you, though he tried his best convince himself it was the argument he missed.

It wasn't until you were given an away mission together, albeit a small and quick one, that you came together for the first time in around a week.

"Not with Odo! / Not with Y/N!" You both protested at the same time to Commander Sisko, who just rolled his eyes and sighed.

"You're going, and you're going together. I need you both to be on top form to finish this, we need to know what's going on down there. Your arguing and petty bickering won't get anybody anywhere. Dismissed."

Sitting in the shuttle, aggressive silence filling the small space, you pushed buttons with a facetiousness unlike yourself. You were doing it to make a statement. Odo wasn't stupid, he knew, and he retaliated with banging around on his side of the shuttle.

"This won't get us anywhere, like Commander Sisko said, so stop acting like a child" you remarked, finally cracking under the anger and the sullen atmosphere.

"Stop being so petulant yourself then and things might change" came his reply, monotone and unmoved. You felt your anger boil up, mainly because he hadn't so much as looked up to answer you.

"Why do you have to act like this all the time? What exactly have I ever done to you to make you hate me?" Your question was met with a silence that, for whatever reason, hurt you. You weren't sure as to why it hurt to hear nothing from him, but you brushed it off as your shuttle started to beep, bringing your attention to the fact that the engines were failing. The last thing you needed was to be stranded on some strange planet with Odo.

So, you were stuck on some strange planet with Odo. Not your finest moment. It was awkward and tense, neither of you civil enough to put your pride aside and actually try to sort the situation out. The planet was derelict, it hadn't ever seen such a thing as an inhabitant, and to top it all off it was absolutely freezing. Finally having had enough, you begrudgingly swallowed your pride and spoke to Odo.

"What do you propose we do then?" He spun around to face you, an unreadable expression present on his face, as though he didn't actually know himself what to do.

"So you can be civil then?" he retorted, met with a more than aggrieved expression from yourself, silently telling him that now was not the time nor were you in the mood for it. He continued. "In all seriousness, I am unsure. The communications system isn't working, and neither are the control panels in the shuttle. I say we wait it out for now and try again later."

"For once, I find myself agreeing with you."

You had begun to walk off, failing to notice the eye roll you had received from the constable. He followed you nonetheless and sat down with you in a little cave you'd found, somewhat out of the way of the wind and snow. Lighting a fire, you sat beside him, though you kept some distance. Should he ask, you'd put it down to the climate and the fact you were cold, though deep down you knew it was because part of you wanted to be closer to him.

The weather began to pick up, and you found you had curled closer to Odo than he probably was comfortable with, and more than your sensible half was comfortable with, too. To your surprise he hadn't complained thus far. Starting to feel the bite of the cold the later it got, you shivered and wrapped yourself in your coat a little more, that little bit of pride left in you refused to move any closer to Odo than you already were.

Odo was looking off into the small fire you'd made, though he felt you shiver regardless. Conflicted, part of him wanted to hug you, at least to make you feel some sense of warmth, but his proper and proud side told him not to; he didn't want you knowing how he thought of you, he was sure you wouldn't feel the same. Deciding to ignore his better half and so you wouldn't die from the cold, he pulled you to him and wrapped his arms around you, your head coming to rest on his chest. You moulded to him perfectly, as though you were always meant to be there.

Shocked, you looked up at him slightly, and he glanced down at you, your eyes meeting for a brief moment. You'd never properly noticed his eyes before, but they were a pretty shade of blue. Leaning up a little more, you placed a hesitant but quick kiss on his cheek, and you felt him tense slightly.

"Thank you, Odo." Your voice was quiet, had it not been deathly silent around you, he may not have heard it at all. He tightened his arms around you as you shifted so that you could look at him properly. "I know we don't see eye to eye, and we always argue, and I'm also pretty sure you hate me, but I appreciate what you've done for me here. You didn't have to do-" Your words were cut short by Odo placing his lips onto yours. The kiss was short and sweet, but it told you everything you needed to know and wanted to hear.

"I never hated you. Get some rest, Y/N." His voice was quiet and caring, far from the usual biting tone he used with you, and still in shock you laid back down into his side with your head buried in his neck. Odo himself was shocked, he wasn't sure of what came over him or what had made him do such a thing. More so, however, he was happy you felt the same.

That was how you stayed, together and content; your last thought before drifting off to sleep, however, was just how smug Julian was going to be when you got back. The last thing you wanted to do was tell him he was right, but by the gods, he was right.

#star trek imagine #star trek #star trek deep space nine #star trek ds9 #deep space nine #ds9 #odo #odo x reader #odo imagine #x reader #imagine

140 notes · View notes

geethedentist · 4 years

Text

The Sassenach Warrior

Catch up with Chapter 10 here! Read this chapter on Ao3!

Chapter 11: My Own Protector

A weight had been lifted, and I felt wonderful. I practically danced back through the doorway of the tavern, but the sight of Jamie stopped me dead in my tracks. I saw Dougal follow his line of sight directly to the gash on my head. Jamie’s nostrils flared ever so briefly.

“The … the horse kicked me.” I shrugged and looked at the ceiling.

“Aye, ye ken how that filly can be sometimes.” Dougal then made a horrible attempt at a casual throat clearing noise and swiftly made for the stairs.

“I thought ye kent not to stand directly behind her.” Jamie mumbled as he rose and headed for the stables. He did not meet my eyes.

It was getting increasingly difficult to lie. The fact that Dougal now knew about it did not make lying to Jamie any better. It actually made it worse since Dougal had aided me in said lie.

In any case, I would only have to do it for one more night and make it out with no obvious lacerations or contusions. Tonight was the last fight, and this time I was not plagued by my former ulterior motive. Perhaps someone in possession of more common sense than I had might have decided not to go.

What was the point? Dougal trusted me now. Gavin would close the ring for a while after tonight, so a huge portion of the town was likely to be there. The point was I wanted them to watch me prove I could win.

The sight of Jamie’s face drawn with desperation as he begged me not to do anything foolish swam around the back of my mind all day. I finally forced it out as I wrapped myself in my cloak, preparing to leave. I bypassed Angus’s and Dougal’s rooms; they knew tonight was the last one.

Rupert and Murtagh were now the only way in which my secret could get back to Jamie. I stopped outside Rupert’s door, from which issued loud, hog-like snoring. Next was Murtagh’s door, from which came more snoring, but less hog-like. Jamie’s door had no candlelight underneath. After straining my ear against it until I was satisfied that I had heard no noise from within, I painstakingly tip toed down the stairs.

The taproom was empty, except for a figure in the armchair by the fire. I couldn’t see their face, for their back was turned and they too wore a dark traveling cloak. The stranger absentmindedly prodded the dying embers with the poker; sparks flew out of the dull-glowing log as it broke in two. If they knew I was there, they didn’t turn around. They still didn’t turn as I walked out the door, closing it very slowly behind me.

__________________________________________________________________

Jamie had dared not breathe until he was positive that Claire was gone. He’d made a frantic grab for the poker and tried to appear to be nonchalantly moving the ashes around. He wished he’d had the sense to pour himself a cup of ale, maybe that would have made it more believable. But no, Claire had left as quickly as she could.

He knew she wasn’t very likely to try and talk to him. She had wanted to make as little noise as possible, although her attempt to descend the stairs sounded quite like a tip-toeing elephant. He waited a minute or two to give her a head start, and then rose to follow. If nobody was going to tell him the truth, then he would find out for himself.

Claire was a terrible liar; she looked at anything and everything except the person she was lying to, and she repeatedly scratched her nose. Dougal was a seasoned liar, but Jamie knew his game. He’d give an indifferent shrug to belittle one’s perfectly valid suspicions.

Stepping into the chilly night, he drew up the hood of his cloak and watched Claire’s back reach the end of the street and turn left. His stomach gave a lurch.

He knew beyond doubt where she was going, but he had hoped to God that he was wrong. He was even nursing some half baked wish that she really was an English spy. But no, that wasn’t true. As tough a demeanor as she liked to build for herself, Jamie witnessed its foundations crumble more than once. In the forest with the two soldiers on the day they met, and on the day she glimpsed the English marching toward Nairn.

She always fought to keep her hands steady, and Jamie knew her well enough by now to know this came with great effort. What really gave her away was how all of the color drained from her already pale face, leaving a strange tinge of gray. How the muscles of her cheeks and neck popped out from clenching her teeth together as hard as she possibly could. It was the same way she had appeared when the stables had caught fire. But that time he liked to think that they had been alone and therefore she let her fear show plainly, tired of the effort it normally took to conceal it. Her own countrymen terrified her.

He felt like a fool because she had been able to lie to him so easily, inept at it as she was. He should have known sooner. He should have known long before she’d slashed her head open. Christ, she had even asked him to help her improve her fighting skills, and he’d happily obliged just grateful to spend time with her.

She’d been withdrawn from him ever since the soldiers had occupied the tavern. They hadn’t spoken much; she had taken to sleeping for a large portion of the day. She was always covering up strange and unexplained bruises. As much as it pained him to see her willingly hurt herself, there was another deeper fear lurking in the back of his mind that he hadn’t yet been able to identify.

Claire suddenly whipped around in the middle of the darkened street, the moon outlined her in silver and the frayed ends of her scarf swayed gently in the breeze. She didn’t have her sword or bow on her, but he saw her hand dart to her belt where he knew there was a dagger. She always kept the scarf and dagger close; they had both come from Jamie. A bit of cloth ripped off the end of his tartan offered to her as a makeshift scarf a few days after the rent party set out. She had been shivering.

Jamie pressed himself against the nearest building until she decided that the coast was clear. His lips pressed into a thin line as he noticed a slight limp. He peered around the next corner as she had just finished having a laugh with the man at the front door and disappeared down the stairs. Two minutes later, he descended as well, and his eyes widened in surprise when he reached the bottom. There was more than twice the number of people here since they had first come. There was already a fight underway, but Claire was nowhere to be seen.

“Do ye reckon that lass is going win tonight?” A conversation at the table to his left had Jamie inching over to listen.

The other man grunted. “Weel she’d better win, or else I’ll kill Dougie for tellin’ me to put my money on her!”

“Excuse me,” Jamie addressed them. “Are ye talking about the Sassenach? D’ye ken where I can find her? I’m a … big fan.” He added hastily when he saw their matching suggestive grins.

“Oh aye?” The first man laughed. “What makes ye think she’ll fancy you? One look from her and ye feel as if she’s already kicked ye in the balls!”

Jamie knew the look well; she gave it to Dougal quite a lot. The other man elbowed his companion. “Ach we canna blame the lad. After all, ye’ve said yerself that ye’ve never seen a pair of breeks look that good!”

Jamie felt his face begin to heat with anger, and he wanted nothing more than to drag their drunk arses into the ring right now and beat them both. He grabbed the shirt of the man nearest to him. “Either tell me where she is, or else I will kick ye in the balls for her.” He snarled.

The man ducked and pointed to a door in the corner. “She’s probably in the back with Gavin!” Jamie threw him back in the chair and headed for the door. He imagined bursting in on her and declaring that he had known what she was up to the whole time. But that thought was followed almost immediately by a sour taste in his mouth. It didn’t seem like the right way for her to find out. He didn’t want to embarrass her; he didn’t want her to feel ashamed.

It was then that he decided that he would not let her see him, and that he had only come to watch over her, to make sure she didn’t get hurt. He would watch the fight and go right back to the tavern.

Inside the door, there was a hallway with multiple smaller rooms on either side. It smelled like sweat and the floor had blood stains of varying shades of red brown splattered across it.

“So, the soldiers will be here again by the end of the month?”

“Yes, that’s what they told the barman. Are you still going to close the ring?”

Jamie’s head snapped up at the sound of Claire’s voice, coming from a room at the end of the hall.

“Aye, for a couple weeks I think.” Gavin answered. “Do ye really have to go though? I’ll give ye a room in the inn to stay while the ring is closed. ”

“I can’t stay here forever just to fill your pockets. Besides, I have things to do.”

“Have I no’ been filling your pockets as well?”

“Well, I’ve been filling Dougal Mackenzie’s. For the Jacobites.”

Just then a very large bald man with a close cropped black beard exited the room on the opposite side. He had more hair on his chest than Claire had on her head, and thick veins lined his forearms.

“Oh Tom! In here if you please.” Jamie saw Gavin’s shadow beckon him over. “Claire, I thought I’d have ye fight Tom here to make yer last fight one we’ll never forget aye?”

Claire snorted.

Jamie felt his chest seize up and his throat go dry. Never forget?! Surely he must be referring to the head trauma that Claire was likely to incur from fighting this man. What could possibly have happened to her, to make her fear a red coat more than this?

“Easiest money I’ve ever made.” The man’s voice was much deeper than Jamie’s.

“Go ahead, underestimate me. That’ll be fun for you.” Claire said darkly. “You’re just a big blundering bear with no teeth or claws.”

Jamie clapped a palm to his forehead and went back through the door find an inconspicuous place to watch. The wee idiot! It would seem that her trash talking had made all of her opponents forget any reservations they may have had about fighting a woman.

The talking died down as Gavin stepped into the center of the ring to end the previous match. He looked around, enjoying the enthralled look on his patrons’ faces. “Now I understand that many of ye came tonight to see a certain wee Sassenach.”

The crowed erupted into cheers, and Jamie was feeling more sick by the second. He felt a strange pang of possessiveness at the word Sassenach. It would never mean the same thing coming out of someone else’s mouth.

Gavin held his arms up to silence them. “Now ye should ken that tonight is her last fight, but let me first introduce her opponent. For those of ye who dinna ken, Tom Campbell here has never lost a fight.” And out walked the bear. Some people cheered, some murmured excitedly, some doubtfully. Jamie wasn’t sure how this could possibly get any worse.

“Now, without further ado, I give ye the Sassenach!”

Claire hurdled over the side of the wooden barrier of the ring. Tucked into the breeks, she wore a simple white cloth shirt. Her hands had been wrapped in linen strips to the middle of her forearm, and she wore no shoes. The little piece of Jamie’s tartan was now tied in her hair. There was no obvious expression on her face. She had opted instead for quiet intensity.

“Opponents will now shake hands.” Gavin had to remind them.

Tom Campbell’s hand completely engulfed Claire’s. He saw the tendons pop out as he squeezed a little too hard. Claire snatched her hand back and her lip curled.

As the match began, it became apparent that not everyone was a Sassenach fan. It was hard enough for Jamie to ignore the scathing insults some people were yelling, but it was almost impossible to keep himself from running into the ring and knocking out Tom Campbell himself. If Claire knew he was here, she’d want him to trust her, and let her hold her own against this man.

Tom had already landed a punch or two right into her mouth. Her face was the at the perfect hight for his fists. The top of her head rose barely to the middle of his chest, bun included.

But she was still standing, and she didn’t seem to be in pain. She was light on her feet as she danced around him, dodging the majority of his blows. She drove her fist with all her might into Tom’s abdomen, and he threw back his head in laughter. Claire had backed away, shaking out her hand.

She had yet to get any solid hits on him. She seemed to be waiting for something. “Whatever is the matter?” She taunted. “Am I too fast for you? Am I making you dizzy?” The man roared and lunged at her.

“Claire!” Jamie screamed her name, but it was drowned out by the crowd.

When the dirt had settled, the crowd has gone silent. Claire was on her stomach, and the brute had her left arm bent and pinned painfully against her back. The littlest finger stuck out at an odd angle. Her face was drawn with pain but there was the hint of a smile in the corner of her mouth. “Well you’re going to feel downright foolish Tommy.” She said. “You probably should have taken both of my arms.”

She turned as much as she could to the right, and threw the handful of dirt she had concealed in her right hand right into his eyes. He shrieked and fell to his knees, now right in her range. The rest of the fight lasted less than ten seconds but Jamie felt as if he was watching in slow motion.

She was on her feet again faster than lighting. After paying him back with interest for the punches she received, she grabbed his arm and drew him forward. Tom Campbell, eyes streaming, could barely see what was about to happen to him.

Jamie watched with a mixture of horror and a little bit of pride as he saw all of his own techniques executed perfectly and lethally. Claire’s elbow collided with the man’s mandible, and the ear splitting crack silenced everyone. But she wasn’t done yet. She had then jumped over a foot off the ground. On the way down, both of her feet had planted themselves firmly into Tom’s chest and knocked him back with such a force that the sound of his head colliding with the wooden barrier sounded almost like a gunshot. He lay crumpled and moaning on the dirt floor.

Claire stood there alone, hunched over with her hands on her knees and chest heaving. If she was surprised that she won, she was purposely not showing it. There was a new gash on her temple. Hair was stuck to her forehead, which was shining with sweat. A deep red splotch bloomed in white of her eye. Her mouth was slightly open as she took rhythmic, panting breaths. Blood had pooled inside her lip, and she spat it onto the ground. She looked terrifying and beautiful all at once, almost like she wasn’t even real.

Gavin announced her the winner. Some of the patrons were clapping and cheering. Others simply stared at her in open-mouthed disbelief. The fight was over, and Jamie had meant to leave but he was rooted to the spot. Claire slowly straightened up. She had been staring off into space and she extended her hand out to Gavin without looking at him. He dropped an enormous bag of coin into her palm.

And Jamie was finally able to identify his deepest fear. Although he cared for her safety more than anything, he cared for Claire herself even more. She was going to use that money to leave, and there was nothing he could do to stop her. It was what she wanted for months, and he had always pushed it back behind his brain, out of sight. He could never ask her to stay, it didn’t seem right. He had made the mistake of thinking he meant more to her than this.

It was as though someone has turned his hearing back on, and the screaming of the crowed came rushing back. Somehow, Jamie knew exactly what Claire was going to think if she saw him. But he didn’t have to wait much longer to have it confirmed. He was rooted to the spot unable to look away, and they had suddenly locked gazes from all the way across the room. Her eyes widened at the sight of him. The spell was broken and he hastily made for the exit and wondered miserably if she’d be gone come morning. Honest feelings and bad timing make the most painful combination.

_________________________________________________________________

Fuck fuck fuck. And everything had been going so horribly right too. The initial shock was draining away and quickly becoming replaced by anger. I had spent the entire evening being so happy with myself. It was almost over, and he had been there the whole fucking time.

I shouldered my way through the crowd with great difficulty. Hands came from all directions to pat me on the back. Someone tried to hand me a pint. I had finally broken through to the back where I roughly pulled on my outer clothing and my boots. I sensed somebody standing in the doorway behind me.

“Excellent fight, sassenach.” It was Peter.

“Do not call me that.” I said acidly.

“What’s the matter? You’ve just won!” There was something odd about the expression on his face, like he was keeping a fantastic secret and he wanted me to beg to know what it was.

“Doesn’t feel like it. Get out of my way.”

He pushed a greasy flap of hair back off of his forehead. “Where’s that red head?”

“Jamie? Hell if I know.” Technically not a lie, as I in fact did not know his exact location but I could hazard a guess. Why would Peter care anyway? It inexplicably bothered me and I pushed past him out the back door, bumping him with my shoulder a little harder than necessary.

Jamie was halfway back to the tavern when I caught up with him. He stopped in the middle of the alleyway as he heard my running feet stop suddenly behind him. He didn’t turn around, plainly wanting me to speak first.

“Who told you?” Was all I could think to begin with.

He whirled around and ran both of his hands roughly through his hair. “No one told me Claire. I could almost laugh out loud upon hearing such a question. You may as well have told me, instead of trying to keep track of all yer stories. That must have gotten so tiring for you.”

I chewed my lip, not having expected to get so mad so early in the argument. “Why are you even here? Did you want to catch me? Well congratulations. You’ve done it. What are you going to do now? Drag me back to Dougal? Or perhaps pour me a glass of whisky so you can have another excuse to put your face right up to mine?”

He’d been trying to cut me off during my rapid-fire questioning. But now his mouth had pressed into a thin line. He attempted to put on a mask of anger to match mine but I could still see the hurt in his face. I was trying to upset him, and telling him that whisky-filled night meant nothing to me did a pretty good job of it. The Claire Beauchamp in that moment did not care.

“I only wanted to make sure you were safe.” He said quietly.

“Well I don’t need you to okay?” I shot back at him. “I didn’t ask you to watch over me. I won didn’t I?”

“Aye ye won but at what cost? Ye’re purple from head to toe and I’ll be damned if that finger isna broken. What’s worse, ye’ve deliberately risked the English finding ye!”

I quickly put the finger in question behind my back. It was beginning to take the form of a small sausage. I then decided against my better judgement to escalate the fight into a full blown shouting match.

“Stop trying to discipline me like a child! I’m fine. The English aren’t coming back for weeks, and in case you didn’t hear me before, I won. And everyone saw it.”

Jamie threw his hands up in exasperation. “Christ Claire ye’ll do anything for spite d’ye ken that? Don’t ye care that ye’ve already proven yerself to the people that actually matter?” He said desperately.

“What if that’s not good enough for me?” I spat back.

He bowed his head. “Then I hope ye ken ye’ll never be satisfied.”

Then, when my coin pouch fell with a seemingly deafening clank onto the ground between us, I thought that night the universe wanted all of our unspoken issues to be laid out before us. We both stared silently at it for a few seconds before I swiped it back and tucked it into my belt.

“But ye care about yer so-called freedom even more than spite aye?” His voice held an odd note almost like he rehearsed this, or at least spent a very long time thinking about it.

“You hate being alone. Ye think ye’ve gotten used to it, that it’s the only way for you. And that's why ye’re ready to run away like a frightened little rabbit, even when ye’ve found a new family.”

I opened my mouth to speak but he stopped me. The dam had been broken.

“Dinna think I haven’t seen ye pass money on to Dougal every morning thinkin’ he’ll reward ye with your ring. And dinna think I don’t know that you’re going to l-leave with all haste the second ye get it back! All this nonsense about the Jacobites.”

Then very quietly, “somehow the fact that ye’re hiding it makes it worse. You hate that someone is able to make ye feel something.” He finished, breathing raggedly.

He had taken several steps forward during his speech, as if to impress upon me the magnitude of what he was saying. Of what he was feeling. He was now standing less than a foot from me. I thought to the onlooker that it must have looked like we were about to tear each other apart in the ring.

I had stopped shouting but where my voice lacked volume, it was now filled with venom. “Jacobite nonsense? The story of an innocent boy flogged half to death doesn’t mean nothing to me Jamie. Neither does the fact that families are being torn apart and culture is being destroyed. Perhaps you should think again before you claim to know me so well. Because guess what.”

I had been repeatedly jabbing my finger into his chest as I spoke. Now, I reached inside the neck of my shirt, drew out the ring, and held it up to his face. It spun gently to and fro in midair, glinting slightly in the moonlight.

“Dougal already gave it back you bastard. And I’m still here.”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #outlander fandom #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #jamie x claire #jamie and claire #the sassenach warrior

30 notes · View notes

nyctolovian · 4 years

Link

Summary: What if Jon was a Witch and Martin was a Runaway Royalty? Funnily enough, it doesn't make their first meeting any less unfortunate and terrible.

Warning: Since this might be something people are sensitive about, Martin is described as "fat" and "plump" in this fic. But not in a derogatory way? (Please tell me if it comes off as such oh dear.)

"Who the hell gave you the right to eat all my cookies?" Jon hissed, brandishing his broom at the intruder.

The man gulped visibly as his round chocolate eyes wobbled. The crumbs still dusted between the freckles of his pale cheeks irked Jon to no end.

He had been saving those butter cookies, savoring only a couple every few days. So you can imagine the shock and fury that coursed through Jon's veins when he returned to his cottage after a frankly needless travel, and found a large man sitting in his living room with an empty tin on his lap. Before the man could even react, Jon had shoved him to the floor and whipped his broom forward threateningly, demanding an explanation for the cookie thievery. If Jon had given the situation more thought, he might have realised his priorities were slightly out of order, but it was the only tin he had procured from when he last set foot amongst human civilization. And he abhorred the thought of going into a town after just three months for a mere tin of cookies.

"I-I-I'm really sorry… I…" the intruder stammered out. "I, um, stumbled upon this cottage… and no one came back for the past two days so… I thought it was abandoned and, well, stayed…"

"Abandoned?!" Jon shouted. "What part of this–" he gestured towards his numerous possessions with his broom "–looks abandoned to you?"

Sure, the cottage didn't have much furniture, but there was plenty of belongings that served to prove its occupancy. Most obvious was how it was filled wall-to-wall with towering mahogany shelves of well-kept books. No one in their right mind would simply desert such an extensive collection of ancient knowledge. This house was admittedly more library than home, but Jon's point still stood.

"Well," muttered the man, "it is quite messy and dirty to be honest."

Jon narrowed his eyes at the intruder, who hastily muttered an apology. It wasn't as though he was wrong though. If one were to believe Sasha James (whom, in Jon's experience, had never been categorically wrong), his living conditions were dreadful. It was as though a hurricane had swept through the house, throwing his belongings about, but deliberately left the dust and dirt alone. Books were scattered across all surfaces, couch and floor included, as several layers of dirt settled on the floor, shelves and table. Even some articles of clothing strewn on the floor and chairs have gotten jealous, and begun their own collection of dust as well. And maybe the air in this house was… a fair bit mustier than it should be.

Jon had never been much of a cleaner.

"I'm sorry. I really am," the man began again. "You're… not going to kill me, are you?"

"What? No!" Jon scrunched his nose in horror. "Of course not."

"Oh, uh, good." He let out a nervous chuckle. "To be honest, when I first came in and saw all the books and crockery, I thought the owner of the house might be some kind of witch. I'm glad you aren't one. They can be quite creepy, and I frankly don't like the idea of being cursed by one."

Thunk! Jon hit the butt of his broom against the wooden floor, eyes narrowed. Drily, he corrected, "I am a witch."

"Oh." The fat man pursed his lips as he shrunk into himself. "That would explain some stuff."

With a huff, Jon rolled his eyes. It was tiring to constantly have people doubt or assume he wasn't a witch just because of the way he looked. Admittedly, most people in the witchery profession were women. He had only known three men who were witches, only one of whom he had actually met, and maybe one other non-binary witch. At least this time he hadn't been accused of lying. "Don't worry. I won't put a curse on you or anything absurd," he told the now deathly pale intruder.

The man let out a sigh. "Right. Thank you. Sorry," he said nervously as he stood up, hunching into himself apologetically. “ I'll… let myself out now.”

Jon wielded his broom once more and the man yelped pathetically. "Now, hold on. I'm not letting you go after you've treated my house like a hostel for two days and eaten all my cookies."

"I'm really sorry," he muttered. "I don't have a single coin on me…" He pointed at an unfamiliar bag beside the table. "I… I do have some parchment and quill though."

"Parchment and quill?"

"It… has a certain vintage feel to it."

"No need. I can subsist on pen and paper just fine." He jerked his head towards the overflowing mess of a study table.

The man winced. "I'm sorry… I really don't have much else with me."

"Right," Jon said, narrowing his eyes. He couldn't help but doubt those words. The fabric of the man's clothes looked rather expensive, and the garment was skilfully crafted to fit his stocky build. It was unusual to see a man this well-dressed without a single coin in his possession. But an actually well-to-do man wouldn't be stumbling into cottages in a forest and polishing opened cookie tins off, Jon would presume. "What's your name?" he asked.

The man's already big eyes widened further. "Uh, what?"

Impatiently, Jon groaned. "Your name. Do you have one?" he asked, acid practically dripping from his voice.

"Ah, um, yes," the man stammered out. "I'm Martin K- Blackwood."

"Martin K. Blackwood?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Are you answering or asking a question?" Jon snapped.

"Answering! Answering."

He huffed in annoyance, his eyes sliding across his kitchen. When he had left, unwashed crockery and cutlery were piled up into haphazard towers in the sink and on his tables. However, they were now properly washed, dried, and placed into his cabinets. So this home intrusion hadn't been an entirely unprofitable one.

With a glint in his eyes, Jon said, "I have a proposition."

***

Stupid Martin, he cursed himself. Why are you constantly making things worse for yourself?

First, it was the whole running away from home thing. He didn't regret that in particular, but he probably should have brought along more than 10 silver pieces. It was no wonder how after a mere week, all his money was spent or given to a group of famished scrawny children. Then, he had decided to cut through the woods in hopes that he could sustain himself on wild berries, none of which, he later found, looked convincingly edible. Then, he had stumbled upon a curious cottage in the middle of a dense forest and, upon finding it abandoned, let himself settle in. As was typical of his luck, it wasn't actually abandoned, and its owner was none other than a witch. Thinking back, he should have taken note of the tinge of change in the air when he first stepped foot, evidence of its steady pool of magic, and its otherworldly still-resident.

Most mortifyingly, however, Martin had flushed to a ridiculous shade of pink when the witch smirked and said he had a "proposition" because, holy crap, did Martin have an imagination. The puzzlement on the witch's face at his reaction before clarifying what aforementioned proposition actually was might have been the finishing blow to his dignity.

"You're not in some romantic comedy," he muttered angrily to himself as he scrubbed the study table with all his might.

"Did you say something?"

Martin looked up at the witch, who had retreated to the floor while Martin cleaned his study table. He had built a fortress of books around himself and had to straighten himself to look over its walls. There was genuine confusion on his features as he asked the question.

"Uh, no," Martin said, shooting him a smile and adjusting his spectacles nervously. "Just a rather nasty stain here."

The witch–"Jon, Jonathan Sims," he had been told–shrugged and returned to burying his nose in some spell book, his tousled hair cascading gently with the movement to frame his handsome face with a wavy shoulder-length curtain. His slender fingers flipped the page gently before curling thoughtfully over his stubbly chin.

With a sigh of resignation, Martin got back to removing the stubborn stain on the dining table.

It always were the prickly men that had the prettiest faces, weren't they? So Martin really couldn't be faulted for consistently developing unwise infatuations for them.

The image was still imprinted in his mind's eye, like an afterimage of too-bright light. Falling to the floor had kicked up a cloud of dust and the poet in Martin felt the air tremble with ethereality. And the sight before him was nothing short of divine.

Jon's lustrous greying locks tangled gently with the sunset glow from the ajar front door, and his silhouette was outlined with light. It highlighted how well the black pinstripe suit fit his slender figure and gave him a sort of cool sharpness. His thick eyebrows were tightly knitted in a rather adorable frown on confusion. His eyes were beautiful obsidian that reflected every shimmer of emotions upon its surface. Martin found his gaze slowly trickle down from those eyes to his thin parted lips as though guided by the sureness of gravity. Then, Jon brandished his broomstick and–bloody hell–Martin would be lying if he said that didn't spark an embarrassing warmth in his gut.

Being in close proximity with someone this hot was going to be detrimental to his health. Martin was pretty sure if he spent a second longer around this man, he would have fainted like an anaemic lady in a poorly fitted corset. That or lock himself in the washroom, preferably with the shower on, for a suspiciously long period of time.

Thank god, however, Jon had the fashion sense of a grandmother. When he emerged from his bedroom, he had changed out of his suit, into a dark green cardigan, overstretched beige shirt, and grey tartan trousers. (Tartan? Really?) Every single article of clothing was baggy and oversized beyond what was sensible for someone as small and angular as Jon. Martin had never seen anyone more swallowed up by clothing than Jon was. That was saying a lot since Martin had seen more jesters than the average person in their entire lifetime.

At least, he supposed, the colours of his apparel complemented his dark earthy skin, bringing out the richness in its tone. Martin might go as far as to say that what Jon was wearing now made sense. When Jon first appeared, he was posh and brooding dark colours, oozing with cruelty–a foreboding shadow that obtruded the autumn palette of forest and cottage. However, in his indoor clothes, he was an easy fit in the puzzle that was this house, with its quaint exterior and cosy interior.

There might also be something endearing about seeing such a slight person swaddled in soft fabric. And the smallness of the man as he sat criss-crossed on the floor did no favours for Martin’s sensibilities either.

Martin shook his head, physically objecting to his own train of thought. He couldn't afford to let his imagination run wild like letting loose a golden retriever with cabin fever. After all, if he actually had to clean up the house to compensate for his intrusion, he was going to be staying in this cottage for a long while. Because, despite his unquestionable familiarity with his broom, Jon had clearly not used it (or any cleaning tool for that matter) in the house for at least 4 months, and Martin was now left to deal with the aftermath of such a decision.

With a soft sigh, he went to change the water in the pail before moving on to cleaning the kitchen table, which was honestly worse off than the study table. That was a major understatement given the amounts of stains and bits left on the kitchen table. Martin rolled up his sleeves and began to scrub the stubborn stains.

As he got rid of the last grime on the table, he stood upright and stretched his back, hearing it crack softly. His eyes settled upon the clock above the bookshelves. It was 8.45pm already. Concernedly, he asked Jon, "What time do you usually have dinner?"

The witch looked up from his volume, his dark hooded eyes blinking owlishly. As though just realising what Martin had said, he let out a quiet noise and glanced towards the clock. "Oh," he muttered. "I forgot."

Like a disappointed parent, Martin pursed his lips.

"Now." Jon nodded to himself as he rose from the floor. "Now would be good."

"I could cook."

Jon jerked to a halt, midway to standing upright. "Ah, yes." He plopped to the wooden floor like a stuffed doll before crossing his legs once more. "I should have some potatoes…"

Sheepishly, Martin said, "Actually, um, I ate them. But, uh, I can cook rice."

Jon jutted his chin out. Exasperatedly, he waved his hand and grumbled, "Fine. Do whatever." Grumpily, he returned to reading again.

After clearing the dining table as best as he could, Martin went to work with cooking. After examining the contents of the fridge, he decided on a simple meal with baked beans and some veggies and sausages since there wasn't enough time to defrost any meat.

While Martin was scooping out the uncooked rice, Jon suddenly spoke, "Do you really know how to cook rice? None of that white-people rice-boiling nonsense. I have a rice cooker." Then, in the most condescending voice, he asked, "You do know how to use a rice cooker, right?"

"If it assures you, I've worked in the kitchen of a Mexican restaurant before."

Jon, whom Martin was fairly certain by now had quite the dramatic streak, visibly relaxed with a loud sigh of relief. "That's good." Then, he burrowed into his books again.

Turning around, Martin rolled his eyes and flipped on the tap to wash the rice. After filling the rice cooker with rice and water, he plugged the cooker to a socket and hummed with curiosity. "I wonder where the electricity comes from?"

"Magic."

Martin startled.

Jon's head was peeking out from behind his ever-growing book fort, which now reached just below his chin. There was a proud quirk in his eyebrow as he continued, "I decided living this deep in the forest doesn't mean I have to give up the conveniences of technology. So I've imbued this cottage with magic to keep the electricity running."

"Well, that would explain the lone WiFi network my phone detected."

"It's password protected," Jon said, as he wriggled a smartphone out of his pocket. "Do you need it?"

"No thanks," Martin responded immediately. Then, realising how strange he must sound, he added, "Uh. I have unlimited data."

Despite how ridiculous this must have sounded, Jon didn't seem to pay the blatant lie much attention. Instead, his attention had shifted to his own mobile phone. He typed furiously into the device for a few minutes before his phone began to ring. His expression soured and he muttered under his breath, "God damn it, Tim."

"What?" Martin blurted even though he had heard Jon loud and clear.

"Just a… troublesome friend. It's none of your business." Jon picked up the phone and began the call with the most peeved "Yes, Tim?"

"Right. Yes… Of course." Still, Martin couldn't help but perk his ears.

"Before you begin, the answer is a resounding no," Jon said. "No, I don't. ... It doesn't matter to me what the rewards are. … You can't– Ugh…" He squeezed his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "I really couldn't care less. … I'm not your personal sniffer dog. Or the state's for that matter.” The perpetual small frown on his face deepened with bewilderment. “What do you mean you’re not…?” Then, with a huff, he muttered, “Shocking.” His lips however quirked up by an almost indiscernible centimetre.

Martin felt a pang of curiosity. This might have been the first trace of a smile that he had seen on the crotchety man. Noticing that he was staring, Martin ducked his head and busied himself with cooking the sausages.

Suddenly, Jon shot to his feet. "Don't you dare!" he hissed. "Tim, I'm warning you. … Fine." His tense shoulders relaxed as he folded his arms in front of his chest. "I'll… I'll see what I can do." To Martin's disappointment, Jon stepped over his fort of books and headed into his bedroom, where the conversation continued without eavesdropping ears. Pursing his lips,

Worry was a hungry hound nestled under Martin’s sternum. Perhaps his ribs were particularly sweet in its canine teeth because it frequently gnawed and chewed at his chest. But this might be the biggest and hungriest hound yet, though this time it spared him and merely nibbled.

Stop overthinking things, he told himself. Not every Tim in the world is going to be Tim Stoker.

***

Tim Stoker was unrelenting when he wanted something.

Jon had realised this long before when he had helped search for his brother but this was ridiculous. Threatening to reveal a hermit’s address, much more one that practiced the occult, was to strip a hermit crab of its shell. And revealing it to the Royal Guards of all people was to smash the shell with a massive hammer while the crab was still in it—needlessly cruel and most probably going to get him killed.

But Jon supposed simply helping Tim out would be much less inconvenient than moving house and cutting ties with the man. Besides, he wasn’t entirely a nuisance.

With a grunt, he knelt beside his bag, still unpacked from his previous trip, and grabbed his journal and a pen. "Alright," he said, setting the book on his lap and pinning his phone between his head and shoulder. "Tell me about this prince. Age? Birthday? Height? Weight? Something?"

"Um… 28, I believe? Not sure about his birthday… Height is between 180 and 190, I think? Uh… He's on the fat side… He's got curly brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin, wears glasses, dimples handsomely when he smiles…"

A long-suppressed groan finally escaped Jon. After his draining trip to the Witch's Conference, he really didn't have the energy to listen to Tim describe what was clearly a small crush of sorts. "This is going nowhere. Just send me a photo."

There was a brief sheepish silence. "Haven't got one, actually."

"Alright, hold up," Jon cut him off. "How on earth do you have nothing on this man? He's a prince for god's sake. In fact, I've only been hearing about this whole missing prince debacle from you. How is this not on the news yet? It's as if you people don't even want him back."

"Well," Tim mumbled over the phone, "it's… a tad bit complicated. You know, how I said I'm not doing this for the state?"

"Mm."

"It's 'cause he ran away to avoid getting married off to another kingdom," Tim said. "Specifically the Nebula Kingdom."

Jon raised an eyebrow. The political ties of the Nebula Kingdom and the Kinsley Royal Family would put even the most volatile stock markets to shame. That was to say, they were mercurial at best. Having a marriage between the two nations would likely stabilise their relations, but if the groom scampered off, it wouldn't just look bad. There would have to be either war (fortunately, a non-militaristic one since neither country was physically confrontational), or massive compensations of the monetary sort. And the Kinsley Royal Family was not quite as wealthy as Nebula, so their best bet at the moment would be keep this runaway business on the down-low for now.

From the other end of the phone, Tim sucked in a hiss of breath through his teeth. "Yeah… So, honestly, only the most high ranking officials are aware of his disappearance. To everyone else, he's just caught a bad case of flu."

Curious, Jon pressed, "And how is a mere royal alchemist such as yourself privy to such confidential information?"

"Actually, he's a friend of mine," Tim said. "So you can imagine how worried I am for him right now."

"I take it you're not carting him off to the palace the moment I find him?"

"Of course not," Tim said with an affronted tone.

Jon let out a hum. "And why the lack of photographs?"

"Well," Tim said. "There's the fact that he's pretty camera-shy. But, also, he's sort of… an illegitimate child of the prince. So things were kept on the very down-low when it came to him."

"Good lord." Jon squeezed his nose bridge with a loud sigh. He could imagine it already: keeping the illegitimate child a secret, ensuring no one could recognise him, and then using him as a marriage pawn when the time was ripe. With how notoriously prolific the prince was, no one could ever tell the difference between an illegitimate child and a regular concubine's offspring.

How a man could sustain such a virile lifestyle perplexed Jon, to be honest. But there were a great many things of the sexual nature that had that effect on the witch so he'd much rather think about actually decipherable things such as spells and potions.

Mentally shoving his distaste aside, Jon continued, "So how do you suppose I find this man without any useful information?"

Jon could practically hear the sunshine in Tim's voice. "Not sure to be honest! I was kind of hoping you'd have an idea."

"I'm a witch. Not a… private detective or sniffer dog or whatever you're taking me to be!" Jon grumbled. "Tim, it's not that I don't want to help you, but you have to give me something better than just a general description of the man."

"Right…" Tim sounded genuinely disappointed. "What about his stuff? I'm not sure about witchcraft but you guys use possessions and stuff for curses and such, right? If I manage to find something he left behind… would that work?"

Jon hummed in thought. "Wait a moment."

He scavenged through the books in his bedroom and found a leather-bound journal that was practically falling apart. Gently, he flipped through the pages and finally came across the section he was looking for.

"Well, if we are to use an object, I'd cast a searching spell on the seeker, which I suppose would likely be yourself," he explained, running his forefinger over the squiggles of the page. "There are then several criteria that the object has to fulfill. First, we need it to be of emotional importance. Then, it has to have a connection between the target and the seeker, meaning you should try to find a gift from this man. Not something you took without his permission or something that is borrowed. And even then, there is a chance of it being a dud."

"That's… not ideal," Tim winced out. "I'll see what I can find." His voice was warm and sincere. "Hey, thanks a bunch, dude. You helped me find Danny, and now Martin as well… I was lying about exposing your house address by the way. I'd never do that. "

"Yes, Tim, I know."

Tim bounced back into his cheeky disposition. "Love you too, Jon! Bye!"

Jon rolled his eyes and ended the call.

Martin… The prince had the same name as his unexpected intruder…

A frown settled upon his brow. What if…

There was a quick rap against his bedroom door. Jon got to his feet and opened it.

"Oh!" Martin–the intruder–gasped. "I thought you were… still on your phone… or something. Um, I was just… Dinner's ready?"

"Ah," Jon said with a nod. The two of them sat at the dining table. The food looked good actually, much to Jon's relief. Still, with some frankly warranted skepticism, he fluffed the rice with a scoop, and when he saw that it was nice and soft. He placed it in his bowl and began to eat.

Sitting opposite, the cook took a sigh of relief at the silent approval and dug in as well. Then, his phone began to ring and he swiped the screen absently. "I saw some tea in the cabinets so…" he muttered as he got up and carried two mugs from the kitchen counter to the table.

Jon took a sniff from the cup. Chamomile. Carefully, he took a sip, and his eyebrows yanked upwards with delight.

Martin's plump cheeks dimpled deeply with pride as he hummed and drank from his own mug as well.

Jon supposed he earned that. When he brought the rim of the mug to his lips again, his eyes fluttered half-closed as the fragrance of the tea surrounded his senses like an old but well-kept blanket, warm and soothing.

Wouldn't it be great to keep him around? His mind sponsored. Jon had to beat the thought down with a stick. He was a hermit and he planned to stay as such. Besides, Jon had a niggling feeling about this man's identity...

But this Martin couldn't possibly be a Prince Martin, Jon convinced himself Imagine such excellent tea-brewing skills squandered on royalty.

#magpod #the magnus archives #tma #jonmartin #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tim stoker #witch au #royalty au #fantasy au #ace jon #nb jon #tma fanfic #my writing

24 notes · View notes

bungeegumsurprise · 4 years

Text

Fire force request

Can I request a story with Karim with reader on their first date?(or something else lol)

Thank you?

A/N: I was giggling to myself like a giddy little schoolgirl while I wrote this. I am not ashamed XD I hope you enjoy!

(Oneshot) AU! But First, Our First First Date: Karim Flam x Reader

Karim possessed all the polar opposite of qualities that you looked for in a boyfriend.

He was THE ass’s ass to the people he was meeting for the first time, short-tempered, and always happened to be conveniently sporting a seriously long stick of serious seriousness up his butt whenever someone cracked a lame joke.

So how did you end up outside in the middle of Tokyo’s sweltering Summer, standing in a field of dead grass with that very same man?

You remembered how your best friend Hibana, who also happened to be the sole female owner of the popular club that featured only the best exotic male dancers-or how she preferred to call them as “gravel,” that was across the street from your workplace, successfully lured you into what would be the last blind date you ever went on.

Every time you and Hibana met up for drinks after work, she couldn’t stop going on about a guy that she’d known since they were kids because his family happened to live in the house next to hers, that was also totally into you.

Though her description of him when they first met was, “The annoying brat had the nerve to call my beautiful plump breasts fake, and poked them with a random dirty stick he found on the side of the street. The cocky little thing turned his head off to the side with an unamused look on his face when I threatened to barrage him with my “clematis,” and smirked at me after saying, ‘You don’t have the balls to do it, or should I say, the breasts to do it. You faking fake faker.’”

Her pink pupils looked like she had used her powers to set them on fire from the way she swore to get her revenge on him someday.

But Hibana being Hibana, she didn’t think it was necessary to tell you that the one she was setting you up with, was the tall man with an athletic build, that had an undercut of black hair and a semi-long dark bluish-gray fringe he kept combed towards the front. Not to mention he was also the young bartender that had been working at her club since it opened a few years back, that you couldn’t stand to be sitting next to for than five minutes without wanting to set him flying out the window with your third-generation pyrokinetic powers, who went by the name of Karim Flam.

You had finished getting ready for your blind date after closing your flower shop for the night and walked across the street to head over to Hibana’s club to meet your date.

You walked past the parking lot that was at its usual full capacity and to the front of the long line of people waiting to get in.

“Hey (Y/N), Hibana tells me you have a hot date tonight. Didn’t you say you’d run off to another country, change your name, and live in a cabin somewhere far away in a mountain where no man could ever find you?” The club’s bouncer Obi greeted with a playful smile and unclasped the gold steel clip from the matching pole to pull back the red velvet rope, “But I think this one might be a keeper. I’ve worked with for a while now and the kid’s alright. Horrible sense of humor, but makes a killer martini.” Obi immediately sucked his lips inwards and shifted his eyes back and forth in panic, realizing he had said too much.

You narrowed your eyes at a nervously sweating Obi that held the dark blue door open, “Obi-“you said almost like you were scolding him, and stood on your toes leaning forward to meet his eyes. “Don’t tell me Hibana set me up with him-“

“I swear, it’s not him! I know how much you two hate each other; I promise!” He nervously laughed as you descended your heels back onto the ground, taking a few steps past him and stopping before you walked in.

“Well, if it does turn out that you’re lying, and Hibana finds out that you slipped up and spoiled the surprise that she worked so hard to plan…” He gulped. “Well, I guess I’ll just wish you good luck now just in case she feels like having one of her gravel parades.” You innocently feigned, and patted his shoulder as you entered.

Obi’s shoulders relaxed, “Whew. I almost told her it was Karim. Hibana wouldn’t let me live it down or let me live at all if (Y/N) found out.”

The music continued to boom in your ears as you maneuvered your way through the tight crowds of bodies dancing under the flashing lights and met Hibana at the bar.

“(Y/N)!” She yelled, greeting you with an embrace as you sat onto one of the tall red bar stools next to hers. “I’m glad you could make it!”

“You wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if I didn’t!” You laughed, giving her a knowing look.

“Will it be the usual?” The current bartender on shift, Benimaru, asked before turning around to the machine of fountain drinks.

“Thanks Beni,” as he pulled the front end of the white towel he kept on his shoulder, wiping off that soda that sprayed onto the outside of the glass, and placed it on the table with a coaster.

You took a long sip of the chilled glass filled with vanilla coke and crushed ice, through the black straw. “Are you sure about this one Hibana?” You turned towards her, “Because the last guy you said was “into me,” the one that you completely “forgot” was also a wanted criminal, was a total psychopath! How did you forget the face of the man who was revealed to be not only a trained assassin, but also worked as the hitman for that lunatic Joker, when the name “Takehisa Hinawa,” was plastered on every wanted flyer and every news broadcast all over Tokyo just a few months prior?”

You eyed the woman sitting next to you who preferred to dress in a mid-thigh length, light pink satin slip dress that was two shades lighter than her shoulder-length hair, against her beautifully tanned skin, along with a pair of white stilettos, at any given time of the day. From her track record, you felt seriously unconvinced that Hibana wouldn’t be setting you up with yet another dangerous man, as you stirred the straw around the inside of the glass.

Hibana took a sip from the crystal glass filled with whiskey, “Well he’s not dangerous, or anywhere near skilled enough to be a criminal, I can tell you that much.”

“That’s not a lot-actually, that’s nothing to go on. Can’t you just tell me who it is already?”

“My shift’s over Hibana,” Benimaru interrupted as he wiped off his hands on a towel and pushed past the counter’s swinging door.

“Perfect timing, you’re date’s here! You can keep me company as I finish my drink, Beni.” Hibana got off the stool and hurriedly pushed a grumpy looking Beni towards the main part of the club.

“Don’t call me Beni, you fiend of a woman!”

“Wait, Hibana! Where are you-“ You reached your hand out but was instead met face to face with your date that was about to start his shift.

Your eyes widened as you pointed an accusatory finger to the person you had a hunch but prayed that you were wrong about. “You-!”

“Ugh, don’t tell me-That Hibana-“ He smoothed a hand over his annoyed face before walking behind the counter.

“Why did I have a feeling that it was you?” You sighed and took another sip of your drink. “I’m leaving,” as you dug in your purse and placed the money for your drink under the coaster before slipping on the strap of your purse and sliding off the stool. “Just tell Hibana I wasn’t feeling well and went home before you got here,” you turned around and waved a lazy hand.

“Hey wait a second!” Karim reached over the counter and grasped the back of your forearm, “I’m the one that asked Hibana to set me up with you,” Karim confessed as he released his hold on your arm when you paused for a brief moment before turning back around.

You looked him in the eyes and sighed. “Is this a joke Karim? You and I both know we can’t stand to be in the same room with one another without losing our tempers. You’ve hated me since the moment we met, so tell me Karim. Why am I here?” Your eyes followed his that looked downwards at the floor lost in deep thought, doubtful that whatever he said could change how you felt towards each other.

He breathed, “I’m not good at expressing how I feel with my words. They always get misunderstood and don’t come out the way I mean them to,” as you stood stilled in disbelief but allowed him to finish.

“I have a habit of putting up my guard whenever I first meet someone. You know the thing about Rekka, I’ve been like this ever since; and I guess the reason I’m always being sarcastic and tease you a lot, is because I’m comfortable around you. Even though we argue a lot, you’ve never once looked at me like the culprit.”

“So, that’s your reason?” Karim looked back up at you confused.

“Huh?”

“It wasn’t your fault for Rekka ending up the way that he did. You tried your best to save him, and at the end of the day, that’s all we can do,” as Karim gave you a saddened half smile.

“And! If you wanted a date, why didn’t you just ask me? Why go through all the trouble of making Hibana brag about you and drag me here?” You slightly tilted your head and waited for his answer.

“Because! I thought you’d turn me down, and by the time I realized I should’ve asked you myself, it was too late. It didn’t matter how much I begged her to help me, she wouldn’t help unless I paid an amount equal to the gravel I was or some crap, so I let her take whatever she wanted from my paycheck. I was going to ask you out last week and when I told Hibana I wanted my money back, she said she already blew the money from half my paycheck on some stupid shoes.”

“Pft-“ You both looked to each other for a moment before laughing at the same time, “That’s Hibana before you. There’s no refunds when you offer her money to do anything.” You shook your head at your best friend who still acted like the child from when you first met.

Karim rubbed the back of his neck, “I know. There’s no coming between that woman and her shoes. I’m pretty stupid right?”

“I think that might’ve been the first honest thing you’ve said today,” you joked.

“Then here’s the second most honest thing I’ve said today, I like you (Y/N). Will you go out with me?”

You purposely hesitated for a second longer just to see his cocky smile waver the slightest, “Yes.”

“What took you so long woman! Geez, you were about to give me a heart-attack!”

A Few Days Later

“Can you tell me what we’re doing out here Karim?” You felt like you were going to melt into a human puddle for how unbearably hot it was outside, “It’s in the middle of freaking Summer. It’s too hot!”

Karim chuckled as he unzipped the large bag he was lugging around on his shoulder the entire way and pulled out his special instrument, “I want you to aim the biggest ball of your flames at me.”

You looked at him bewildered. “Is all this sun going to your head?”

He pulled his earphones over his ears, “Come on, just do it. Trust me!” as he positioned himself.

You had no idea what he was planning, “O-okay, here goes!” as you took a deep breath summoning your flames that started out as a spinning sphere that instantly expanded into something of a giant burning meteor, and raised it over your head as you launched it at Karim with all your might.

You watched as Karim held his ground and waited for the perfect moment for his instrument to inhale in all the fire as he rung his bell loudly. The sounds waves from the bell fluctuated the air in your flames, the heat expanding and compressing within the valves of his instrument repeatedly, and when the sound waves expanded, it drastically changed the temperature of your flames by cooling it down.

A frigid gust of wind blew as your fire extinguished and you waited not knowing what to expect. You could hear the sound within the instrument stiffening as Karim aimed the other end of his instrument towards the ground.

“I heard you’d never gone ice-skating!” He called from the other side of the field.

You grinned, “I haven’t!” You watched in awe as the brown grass beneath you froze over into a giant field of solid ice to form your own personal ice rink.

Karim happily smiled as he ran around the rink towards you while holding two pairs of skates. “How’s this as our first officially official first date?”

111 notes · View notes