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redgillan · 4 years

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Under Pastel Skies - 3

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 2,587

Warnings: none

A/N: I wanted to give Reader a family and this is the easiest way to do it. Btw Peggy’s husband isn’t Steve, I have other plans for him ;) Enjoy!

Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.

The rest of the week went by, and you kept hoping Bucky would come back. You hadn’t seen him since he’d left 300 dollars under his napkin after visiting you at work. You had tucked the bills into your bra, knowing they would be safe there, and walked home at the end of your shift.

Now it was Thursday afternoon and you were craving a day off.

Natasha’s apartment was spacious and the oversized glass window bathed the living room in natural sunlight. The apartment was a gift from Sam. Obviously.

You dropped your purse on the sofa –your bed- and laid out the bills on the coffee table. It was made of marble and brass, another gift from Sam.

You didn’t know what to do with the money, so you took it wherever you went, to keep it safe. You wanted to return it to Bucky. It was too much and you weren’t used to random acts of kindness.

You sunk into the cushion and blew out a sigh as you stared at the money. The persistent vibration of your phone against your thigh pulled you out of your thoughts. Half expecting it to be Natasha, you answered without looking at the caller ID.

The operator told you that Scott Lang was calling from Saint Quentin State Prison, and asked if you would accept the charges. You agreed. You always agreed.

“Splotchy, I need your help.”

Closing your eyes, you let your head fall back against the cushion. “I told you to stop calling me that, Scott.”

It was a silly nickname.

As a child, your mother dubbed you splotchy because of the colourful doodles you painted on the living room walls, and your siblings, who were roughly a few years older than you, had loved using that nickname. Especially since they knew you disliked it.

Their support and endless enthusiasm played a big part in your artistic journey, nurturing that spark into a flame. What started out as a childlike fascination with colours and shapes became your whole life. No one was surprised when you decided to pursue a degree in fine arts.

After the death of her husband, Peggy Carter adopted five children; a little boy from San Francisco, a little girl from Wakanda, twins from Sokovia and a little girl whose birth parents were still in high school. You were the last one, the only one she adopted as a baby.

“Is it offensive to call an artist splotchy?”

“It’s irrelevant. I haven’t painted in months,” you replied. “And we’re not kids anymore, you can use my name.”

“I’ve been calling you Splotchy for so long, I forgot your actual name.”

“You’re so funny,” you deadpanned. “What do you need, Scott?”

Scott’s tone changed suddenly, his voice grew agitated. “I need you to call Maggie. She isn’t picking up when I call her.”

“Scott,” you sighed.

“I haven’t talked to Cassie since her birthday,” he cut you off, pleading. “Please, I just want to talk to my little girl.”

Maggie was Scott’s ex-wife. Six months after his incarceration, she had filed for divorce. Natasha thought it was a real dick move but you didn’t blame Maggie. She was alone, her husband was in jail –for basically being a dumbass although the official charge was embezzlement and destruction of property- and she had a kid to raise.

Maggie wasn’t a saint but she was a good mother, and Cassie was a smart and healthy kid. Now you knew what to do with Bucky’s money.

“I’ll call her,” you said. “Listen, I’m going to put 50 bucks on your book. Buy yourself a bar of soap, I can smell you from here.” Scott interrupted you with a monotone ‘har har’. You chuckled. “I’ll buy Cassie a Christmas gift on your behalf, all right? I think she wanted a bike.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chanted over the phone, his voice muffled as if he was holding the receiver too close to his mouth. “Are you sure you can afford it? I know it isn’t easy for you. Between living in New York and paying for mom’s nursing home, you don’t have to-”

“It’s fine,” you said, cutting off the conversation. “I’m not alone, Okoye helps.”

“And Wanda?”

“She sends postcards from time to time.”

The line went quiet for a moment. “I want to get out of here so bad,” Scott groaned. “Everything’s gone to shit since I went to jail.”

“Everything’s gone to shit since Pietro died, Scott.” You both remained silent, remembering your late brother. Just thinking about him made your eyes start to prickle with tears, so you cleared your throat and ended the call. “I’ll talk to Maggie. You’ll be out soon, just... stay out of trouble. Love you.”

You left your phone on the table and kicked off your shoes before you lay down on the sofa for a well-deserved nap. In your dreams your brothers weren’t either dead or in prison, your mother hadn’t been diagnosed with Alzheimer, and you weren’t a burden to your friend.

If you were lucky enough, you wouldn’t even dream at all.

The next day, Bucky arrived at the hotel at six thirty and you playfully glared at him from across the lounge. He wasn’t stupid, he knew why you were glaring at him. At least he had the decency to look a little sheepish.

“Just so you know, you bought yourself about 30 breakfasts,” you told him, referring to the far-too-generous tip he had left the other day.

“A man’s gotta eat,” he replied with a boyish cockiness that made him look stupidly attractive. You were too flustered to find a good comeback.

You brought him his cup of coffee and let him enjoy his breakfast while you attended to your other clients. It was an unusually busy day, the room was packed with families who were getting ready to explore Manhattan. You didn’t have time to chat with Bucky and he didn’t stay long. You saw him flinch a couple of times; the muscles in his shoulders pulled tight and his eyes darting left and right.

He left another ridiculously generous tip, along with a handwritten note. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day x.

Bucky came back the following week, and even though it was a quiet morning, you made sure to find him a table in a secluded spot. He didn’t notice when you slipped the 300 dollars into the pocket of his coat. You could be pretty sneaky, too.

“Mmmh,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin, “I looked at your Instagram.”

“Oh,” you glanced at your shoes, embarrassed. “Wait, you’re on Instagram? I have a hard time imagining you scrolling through your feed.”

He laughed a little. “I’ll admit I’m not as tech savvy as you youngsters, but I’m not a fossil. I use it to look at the pictures my sister post of my niblings.”

“Cute,” you grinned.

“Anyway,” he said, pushing a hand through his hair. “I love your work. It’s very unique; a cross between Impressionism and Post-impressionism. It’s realistic, and yet there’s something different...” his face scrunched up as he tried to look for the right word. “There’s something in your paintings, something that isn’t here in real life but perhaps should be. It’s hard to explain. It’s a feeling, a color, a pattern; it’s indiscernible but it’s there.” He looked up at you, his cheeks red with embarrassment. “I’m not making much sense, am I?”

You blinked, suddenly stunned that someone had such strong opinions about your work. There was nothing but sincerity in his ocean-blue eyes, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words.

“I, um-” you cleared your throat, “Thank you, I didn’t know that. I look up to Monet, obviously. His work is phenomenal, and I also have a soft spot for Van Gogh.” You ran a hand across your face. “Sorry, I’m a little emotional. The people who compliment my art are usually my siblings, and Nat.”

“And now me,” he said with a warm smile. “And soon a lot more people.”

Flustered, you bit your bottom lip. “That would be nice.”

Bucky nodded. He gathered his silverware and set them on his plate, trying to buy time. You watched him hesitate before he turned to you. “I noticed that your last post was from almost a year ago.”

“Yeah,” you said with a casual shrug. “I don’t really paint anymore. I’m too tired when I get home and supplies are expensive.”

“Of course,” he pursed his lips in thought. “Are you free this afternoon? I was wondering if we could meet for coffee.”

You tried not to show your surprise but his words made the sleeping butterflies in your stomach crack an eye open, their interest piqued.

Was he asking you out? He’d come to your workplace every week since your brief ‘date’. He always gave you more-than-generous tips, and he listened to you with a combination of close attention and warmth that made you weak at the knees.

He’d made it clear he wasn’t looking for anyone but maybe he had changed his mind. Agh, down girl! He just wanted a friend.

You looked into his beautiful eyes, seeing a myriad of expressions cross his face before he smiled at you.

“I ain’t gonna hurt you, angel.”

It was an honest lie, just hearing him call you angel felt like a punch to the stomach. The butterflies were dancing around, reborn, and chanting the word ‘date’.

“If you don’t like coffee, we can have tea, or ice cream,” he said, “anything as long as you can sit down with me.”

You snorted. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, smiling. “This is my number. Pick a place and I’ll meet you there.”

After breakfast, you closed the restaurant and started cleaning the Lounge. You brought everything back to the kitchen, stacked the dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on. Then you put away the unopened miniature jams, butter and whatnot, and gathered the remaining patisseries and fresh fruits in a basket that you would later bring to the reception.

You worked mechanically. It wasn’t exactly the most exciting job you’d ever had.

You couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky. It was easy to let your mind wander into the cosy and dangerous territory of this being a real date.

You decided to go to the Australian coffee shop near Natasha’s apartment. It was popular but not as crowded as Starbucks, which suited you fine.

After your shift, you removed your uniform and changed into the spare set of clothes you kept in your locker for emergencies. Emergencies being an impromptu date or a night out with Nat. You dug around in your purse for your lipstick; the nice one, the Carter Red as your mother called it.

You dabbed the lipstick on your lips, staining them. You only wore it on special occasions, and you weren’t sure Bucky deserved your full red pout.

You walked to the café with a little pep in your step and a confident smile on your face. The freezing temperature didn’t matter, you were too giddy to care. It was a date, it had to be, why else would he ask you to meet for coffee?

You smiled when you saw him through the coffee shop window. He was chatting with the waiter as the latter set two mugs on the table.

“Hi again!” You shrugged out of your jacket and took a seat.

“I hope you like hot chocolate. Carl, here, says it’s their best seller,” Bucky said, smiling kindly at the waiter.

“Enjoy, and if you need anything else don’t hesitate to call me.”

You carefully wrapped your cold hands around your mug while you watched Carl walk away. A moment of silence rose between you. Bucky watched you with an unreadable expression, making you fidget in your seat.

“I’m glad you came,” he finally said.

“Me too. I’m a little surprised you asked.”

He looked down at his mug and smiled; it didn’t reach his eyes. “I have something to ask you.” He paused. “The night we met, you said you agreed to see me because being in a... financial relationship felt like the only solution to your problems.”

Your smile faltered but he didn’t seem to notice. Oh. The butterflies in your stomach fell so suddenly that it felt like carrying a ball of lead. They went back into hibernation.

“If I had been a decent person and, I don’t know, bought you a drink, talked to you,” he paused, meeting your eyes. “Would you have been interested in this type of relationship? With me, I mean.”

You swallowed hard. “You want to be my sugar daddy.”

It wasn’t a question but a statement. You were slowly realizing that you had been wrong about his intentions. This wasn’t a date, it was a business afternoon tea.

He winced. “Do we really have to call it that? I was thinking mentorship. I can provide financial help, and in exchange you could be my friend.”

“I can be your friend for free,” you said, your throat tightening.

He shrugged, a small smile on his lips. “This way we’ll both get something out of it.”

You looked down at your hands, still wrapped around the mug, and pursed your lips in thought. You felt a sharp tingling sensation in your nose, a sign that you were about to cry. You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw, fighting against the flood that was coming.

You pushed all the emotion down and forced a smile to your face. “Do you mind if I use the restroom? I just took the subway, I’d like to wash my hands.”

Bucky watched you, momentarily stunned by your request. “Of course, take your time,” he quickly recovered.

“Thanks,” you croaked, pushing your chair back.

You picked up your bag and walked to the restroom, your legs feeling like cotton wool. You didn’t need to use the restroom, you had walked to the café, but you needed a moment alone to collect yourself.

A woman came out of the restroom, holding the door open for you. You picked up the pace and thanked her before closing the door behind you. You looked pretty sickly under the artificial light of the restroom. Your eyes were glassy with tears and your red lips were taunting you.

“Got your hopes up, uh?” You watched your lips move. A little humourless chuckle escaped you and you shook your head at your own idiocy.

You aggressively wiped the lipstick off your mouth with the back of your hand and sighed deeply as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Now you felt like an idiot.

It wasn’t Bucky’s fault. He had been nothing but nice and kind, and perhaps you had mistaken his kindness for flirting. A naïve mistake. You had always been a little clueless when it came to men.

You ran your index fingers under your eyes to get rid of the makeup that had gathered there. It wasn’t the end of the world, you barely knew him anyway. It didn’t hurt any less, though.

Maybe it was time for you to do something out of character, to experience life no matter how crazy it seemed. You were dreading this conversation with Bucky, but you couldn’t hide in the restroom forever. With another sigh, you pushed yourself away from the sink and walked out of the restroom.

Part 4

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel imagine #bucky barns imagine #redgillan #redgillanwrites

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del-uxie · 3 years

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Genesis

You woke in a forest.

Even before you could react to your surroundings, you became acutely aware of just about everything. The sway of the breeze, the way the leaves would crunch if stomped on by some stray beast. The way that stars, vast expanses away, would explode and be reborn. The knowledge that eventually, the universe would die out, but eventually, it would come about once again, and nobody would know what came before or what will come after. Just the knowledge of existence in the moment.

You have just been born. For any other organism, this would be quite a lot to deal with, but owing to your unusual circumstances, you’re getting along just fine. The cold breeze flows around you, and towering trees emanate from just about everywhere. You cannot see the sky, or the heavens above. Your base life form couldn’t, anyhow, even though you know exactly what it would look like without the canopy above.

You hurt. Something seems to pang at the top of your body, somewhere you can’t quite detect, and you believe it’s due to straining your imagination too much. ‘Imagination’ is a strong word for it, when it’s really just a completely certain premonition – then that pang comes again. You realise your digression, and realise you’ll have to travel around to navigate your new environment. This form of yours is weak, and not at its full potential.

Burrowing through the earth, tunnelling through the dark depths of parasites and worms, you emerge once more in a bush. It’s a startling height for any life-form to traverse, but you are acutely suited to this sort of travel. A creature resides on the top of it – it has wings for swift flight, and eyes that glow in the dark. It has tall ears, and fur, yet there’s evidence of evolution from some kind of snake or reptile, a life-form that’s present quite far across the universe. You get another little pang, and decide to focus on your little discovery.

You inch closer. Now, you can feel the warmth of its body upon yours. It does not flee in spite of its strong hearing, and you realise there must not be many predators around. You do not feel that pang, and instead feel a little glimmer, knowing that your powers of deduction don’t affect your physical state. Its nose twitches, sensing something else – yet, its pupils do not dilate. The darkness around must not allow for such evolutionary advances – and in spite of yourself, you feel some sort of kinship to it.

You emerge from the bush, staring at it directly. It moves, but again, does not flee, instead deciding to sniff you curiously. You couldn’t possibly tell what it thought of you, but in that moment, it scurried off at not too fast a pace, leading you off into a clearing where several more of its species were situated. A family, it seems – two adults and a litter of their young, one of them looking rather sickly. They are all resting, and the one you met joins them for the night.

You pause for a moment, observing the way their chests rise and fall, and the way the adults curl up to one another, as if to say ‘Your warmth needs my warmth’. You feel a little self conscious about your lack of warmth, and then realise you have nothing to be self conscious about. You scurry back up into the bush you came from, and remain there for the rest of the night.

Midnight.

You’ve spent a lot of time thinking. You spent a lot of time observing those spaces you cannot see on this planet – and learn much of its past. This species is one of the few that survived a cataclysmic event many moons ago, its surprise evolution of wings due to cross-breeding being its sole saviour. They are due to die out due to strongly hereditary heart problems, but if they were conscious of this – or, indeed, if anyone but you were, you’re sure this could easily be bred out. They are all to die of something they have no control over, or knowing part in.

You enter the clearing again. Only one of them is awake.

When the sun rises, the clearing is empty.

There is still something you’re missing.

As you travel across this planet, you wonder how you’re going to get about. You have nowhere near enough energy to simply teleport yourself – something only you, an entity borne of uranium could do – that energy would have to come from the GREEN SUN, and having just been born, you’ve not had a trip over there. Well, ‘just been born’ would be an overstatement – you guess it’s probably been about 5, 10 years so far? On this planet, at least. Whatever, time is of no essence to you.

You don’t really think leaving this planet and getting more energy to truly explore further would fill that void, though. There’s something you don’t have that the mere mortal organisms do, and it’s eating at you. Not in an emotive sense, but in one of a severe incompleteness. You want what they have. You want what these pathetic creatures have – you want ears that prick up at noise. You want a leg that will bend if you tap it with a stick. You want a nose that will twitch at the smell of fresh berries.

In fact, you do just that as a tall figure lands, her wings flapping in the wind as she sets herself down to crouch by you. You can already tell she’s not a native of this planet. Her green skin and skeletal outside tell you as much – she must be a species specifically designed to weather almost any conditions, as she doesn’t react to the cold wind around her.

She speaks to you, in some tongue you don’t recognise, and after a few words more, you start figuring it out.

“…little guy. You don’t look like those other fellers I saw elsewhere. Some big meanie get your friends?” she says, her shawl fluttering in the wind. She has a distinctly rural accent, you decide, and prick your ears up at her, sniffing her.

“Guess you can’t understand what I’m sayin, huh? C’mere, little man.” She says, picking you up and placing you in her pocket, dangerously close to falling out. You rummage around in there, trying to get more comfortable, and she chuckles. “Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna getcha. Lookin’ for those folks that went n hurted your friends, that’s all.” She jumps up from the ground, flying up and away with her white wings, and spiralling out of the trees – and from there, you see light for the first time. A beautiful, pastel pink sky, with two small, dim suns in the distance. It’s about sunset, and you can see a castle on the hill.

You guess that must belong to her.

“See that place up there?” she says, stroking the bit between your ears while she flies, about ready to land. “That’s my place.”

“I’m Prosperity, by the way.” She smiles, her green, full cheeks lighting up.

“Pleased to meetcha, little no-face guy.”

You take up residence with the strange alien on this strange planet. You haven’t actually spoken to her, mind you – you’ve spent your time observing the way things work around here, attempting to get by without your immediate potential knowledge. You’re still not that good with your powers, you know that. You’ve got to get to the Green Sun, but for now, you’re stuck with this lady.

She looks at you one morning, curious. You stare at her back, in the middle of eating the gruel that she always feeds you. The lady doesn’t move, but gives you a hauntingly knowing smile – one that you don’t recognise. Your ears fall back, and you stop eating your food.

“I know what you are now. Asked around some.” she says, sitting down next to you. You don’t know what to do. If she’s figured you out, she might see to it that you never leave this place. These puny forms couldn’t possibly withstand a trip out to space, no matter what you devour and assume the likeness of – like it or not, you’re tethered to this woman. You just thought she assumed you were some defenceless critter of sorts, but this look in her eyes has scared you.

“Yer a changeling, aren’tcha? Those little critters that hop around galaxies, hiding by turnin’ into random animals.” She says. You pause for a moment, and realise she’s wrong – so you double down on the effect, pretending to be ashamed. Prosperity smiles at you, looking genuinely proud of herself. “Knew it. Y’don’t havta keep that form around me, y’know. I’d like to think we’re friends by now.” The lady places her clawed hand in her sharp jaw, observing you quietly. “Could at least gimme an apology. I unno what I did to inspire yer total silence, but unless yer under some monastic oath, y’could ‘splain to me a few things.”

You pause for a moment, and debate what to say.

“…I’m sorry I made you feel bad, Prosperity.” You say, mouth unmoving. Her smile alters a bit, as if unsettled by this – but then she does a little gasp of surprise, her wings fluttering.

“Haha, it’s no sweat, little guy! Why don’tcha tell me what a beastie like you is doin’ all the way out here in the schticks, huh?” she chatters, looking genuinely interested now. You relay the whole story to her, omitting a vast majority of the details, but still getting across your need to flee this planet. She gives you vast attention, more than you were used to from the wild animals and her disaffected small-talk of before, and it feels good.

“Well, little man, I dunno where this Green Sun of yers is. Plenty’a suns out there, and not one of ‘em that I’ve seen has ever been green. Guess I could scout a place like that out for ya, if ya need it.” She pauses, getting up and putting her jacket on, as if planning to leave immediately. Instead, she simply steps just outside to water the flowers on the windowsill, to which you clamber up on the counter to hear her better.

“Us cherubs have always been mighty good at space travel. Entirely independent of our host planets, didja know that?” she says, tending to her flowers. “I guess without that our race woulda died out long ago. Hell, for all any of us know, we already have. S’not like I’m seekin out any’a my kin, even though I’m ‘sposed to.”

You tilt your head at her, and she jerks her head over. “Oh, c’mon, y’can’t pretend you don’t understand me now. Y’owe me a little small talk, no-face.”

“…sorry. Do you really have to seek out others of your species? Why?” You say, feigning interest. She doesn’t pick up on this social cue, and grins, carrying on.

“Matin’ purposes, and suchlike. I tell ya, I don’t give a damn hoot about it. I mean, we’re fated to fuckin’ DIE as soon as we repredouce! Reprodooce? Reproduce. Yeah, that’s it.” Her watering can empties, and she heads inside to fill it up again, the water clinking against the metal sides of the can. “So I just said, fuck it. I’ll be a ranger of space or some shit. Then I did just that. I wander around, helpin’ out whatever planet needs it. Not that I’m ever in time for some sentient conversation, so in that sense, you’ve been a huge help, little guy!” You frown internally, and decide next time you’ll pick a form that’s a bit less small.

“I can tell we’ll get along just fine.”

One morning, you notice she’s taken out a device of some form. It produces sound waves of differing frequencies, depending on the tension she applies to different parts of the object. You don’t understand it, so you hop up to her on the sofa, having gotten back from your daily exploration.

She doesn’t seem to really notice you, having gotten used to your rather free-spirited nature. The sounds continue playing, and she looks as if she’s about to open her mouth to create similar frequencies, when you realise she’d noticed you all along.

“What is that?”

“Ah, this ol’ thing? Lil’ relic from my home planet, this. Bet you’ve never seen anythin’ like it out here.” She says, her eyes glimmering. You detect a little something behind them, and say nothing for a bit, before continuing.

“What does it do?”

“Why, it makes music, little guy!” Prosperity grins, and scratches you between the ears again. It feels nice, and you don’t like that she can just do that. “Here, I’ll show ya… just sit tight, I gotta figure out how this one goes again.”

She plucks a few of the strings with her claws, their wornness becoming more apparent to you as she plays. Though her initial tones are erratic and confused, a tune begins to eke out once more, and once she gets going properly, she begins to sing. Her voice is beautiful, and like no sound you’ve ever heard before. It melds with the soft chirping of animals in the background, and her dulcet tones, singing of a home sweeter than this and a fire warmer than ours, reminds you of something. Something that you won’t ever have.

The song makes you sad.

She take note of this before long, and pauses, cuddling you up to her. She’s warm, and it feels nice. You feel warm now, too, and you realise that’s one thing you’ve gained on your time here, even if you haven’t managed to escape this planet yet and even if you haven’t managed to get to the Green Sun. While she cuddles you in her muscular arms, she smiles softly, strumming tunes idly in repetition.

“Y’know, there’s a reason us cherubs are s’posedta mate.” She says, still strumming softly. “When we’re lil’ kids, there’s two of us in this one body. We live like that n’til one of em’ fights for dominance, a fight that’s gotta be fairly won. ‘Therwise, yer fucked fer life, and can’t ever ‘scape yer homeplanet.” She strokes your back, and you shuffle over, prompting her to carry on petting your head again. “Anyway, in ‘xchange for bein able to live alone, there’s a price that’s paid.”

The tune changes slightly. “When ya separate, yer body chemistry alters permanently. T’that of the body you were always destined ta have, but fer some reason, those receptors for the other chemicals stay there. N’yer body always expects em.” Her eyes flit to the distance. “Causes some kinda deep, primordial loneliness. One that can only be filled by matin’, or so the old legends go.”

“…so why don’t you?”

“Huh? Well…” She stops playing for a moment, realising she’s lost track of the tune she’s playing. Prosperity gets up for a quick drink of water to clear her throat, then sits back down again, as you hop back into her lap, the instrument resting there as well.

“…I guess I just don’t wanna die. I mean, that sorta fear- it’s not meanta be part of our psychology. Otherwise, we’d all literally die out. I guess… fer some reason, I just had that fear.” Her finger circles your fur, getting under your wing and warming up the spot there. “I don’t have a lot ta leave behind, ‘part from you and the lil’ critters I find out in space. I guess I don’t even know there’s anything out there but you an’ I, unless I believe those ol’ scriptures on my home planet.”

“But I guess ahm… ahm still scared. I dunno what’s out there, and I don’t wanna find out. So I think- I think-“ You look up at her. Her eyes are wet. “I think I’m just gonna try an build a good life fer you’n’I. And find that Green Sun’a yers.”

“…you think you’ll make it?”

“Someday, little bit.” She says, scratching your ears. “Someday.”

You hear a thud from outside. She’s arrived home from her travels while you were resting. You scurry outside, pushing the door open with all your might, and see her standing there.

“I’ve found it.” She picks you up, and you nestle in her pocket, finally able to get comfortable. Prosperity is wordless as she packs the few supplies and bits she’ll need for the second journey, but you can tell it’s not that far. Otherwise, she’d be packing more.

She flies up out of the atmosphere of this planet, the deep purple sky leaving you behind and the murky abyss of space emerging. Little glimmers of light emanate all around you, and though she’s fast, you can still see just about everything around you. The lights spiral around, and you realise that there’s something bigger than even you out there. There’s something bigger than you, and you’ll either meet it or become it someday.

The thought scares you.

You wonder why she isn’t talking. You’re really thankful she did all this for you, and you want to express that, but the words just wouldn’t come out right if you said them now, so you stay quiet for a bit, before making some idle conversation. “Is it far?” you ask, and she says no, no it isn’t. She darts below and through some asteroids, dipping expertly around the terrain, and flying past planets – ones very different from the one where you were born, and ones that are similar.

There’s a peculiar spot not far up ahead. As you approach, it seems to get narrower and thinner, yet your speed increases – Prosperity shoots directly for this spot, and you tunnel through it, landing straight on the surface of a large asteroid with far more force than either of you could really withstand.

Her blood spurrels out of her jaw. You panickedly tell her that she didn’t need to go that fast, and that you had all the time in the world, trying to tend to her wounds, but she laughs and says it’s alright. It’s oddly silent out here, without the strum of her guitar and the quieter sound of her voice against the space atmosphere, and she says it’s alright. Her eyes are lowered, and you know she will be. Cherubs are built to withstand anything.

Right?

Right, she says. She leans up, and looks at you. She can go no further, she says. “Do you see this?” she speaks, pulling her half-burnt wing over to you. You didn’t even noticed, you were so focused on getting there together. It’s charred green, and you can barely look at the festered infected wound starting to grow there, tumours bubbling. “I- I can’t go near that thing. Not in a million years. N’you can’t… you told me you can’t live without it.”

She stands up, staring at the Green Sun. Though it doesn’t hurt her eyes at this distance, if she walked any further, the few remaining bits of her nigh invincible evolution would burn away. She holds something in her hand, and you realise why she looked so worn that day.

“…you didn’t.”

It’s an egg. An egg, with two spirals within it – one red, and one green.

“Little bit, I ain’t got anythin’ else in this world to care ‘bout no more. Ah- I knew when I first saw you that you’d be trouble, n’I guess you weren’t wrong.”

“So, here. It’s mine. N’with this exchange, ah- I had to kill another cherub. The only one I’ve ever seen, I had to- his body is out here.” She says, shaking, holding onto you. “His body is out in this fucking- the place, the one place, the place you told me to find. The place you’d be safe, and- I-“

“There’s nowhere to go from here, is there?” you say, staring out at the sun.

“No, there ain’t.”

She stands in front of you. You know what she wants you to do, and you know you can’t do it.

And the next morning, there isn’t a cherub in front of you anymore.

#my writing #jon #prosperity #my ocs

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ahlis-xiv · 4 years

Text

journal entries: no. 50.2

The sound of the bathroom door opening caught his attention first as Ahlis emerged from the bath. Her hands were bunched up within a towel as she continued to dry her hair, the rest of her dressed in the offerings of clothes he had set aside earlier. There wasn’t much to give, truth be told, and he hoped she did not mind it. Ahlis had little in the ways of effects left behind within the manor, but he made due with personal items of his own. The nightshirt, while obviously too large for her more slender frame, did the job of granting her modesty as he watched her quietly approach; it could almost pose as a gown were she a few ilms shorter.

A quick smile came to his face as he noted the way she looked at him; Ahlis must have seen him staring so he stood from his chair at the lounging table where a set of freshly made tea was placed.

“The bath was to your liking, I hope?” He asked, returning back to his seat and taking the teapot carefully into his hands as he began to pour.

“Aye,” she replied and released her hair from the towel. Moving towards the other side of the small table she relaxed into the opposite chair, sighing only until her body met the soft cushion with said towel draped in a lump within her lap. “I needed that.”

Aymeric’s smile grew, softening at the way she began to ease more and more while in his company. Rare was to have a moment to witness her in anything less than her armor; even more rare was to have her stay within his home and partake of his hospitality.

Yet was that not to be expected? He wished to believe it so, despite how much it felt like a dream-come-to-life in the time following the fighting at Ghimlyt. To think that the reality that she would come to him—unannounced, free, and willing—and utterly outside of any obligation or expectation as the Warrior of Light, but out of affection. And, perhaps even...

“Aymeric?”

“Ah,” he said softly with a blink. The tea had been forgotten for a moment and he realized that his own cup had yet to be filled, which he began to rectify now that his train of thought had been broken.

“Are you all right? You...seem preoccupied.”

His smile deepened, if anything to reassure her. With tea now in hand, liberally adding syrup to his own, he could feel his mind recenter itself with the warmth of his cup.

“Indeed I am, yet pleasantly so. Forgive me if I appeared inattentive.”

Ahlis made a noise in her amusement as she brought the tea to her lips, eyes remaining on him as she did so.

“And what has you so pleasantly distracted?”

“The woman before me, having tea and lounging in my garments.”

“Oh, you.” Ahlis’s eyes turned to the heavens, yet her exasperation wasn’t entirely genuine; her smile remained intact after all. “I haven’t been away so long, have I?”

Aymeric took a moment to regard his own cup of tea in his hands and the sudden swell of his heart. To be truthful of the matter, he had missed her dreadfully. It was a kind of toil made in solitude—a sort of hurt that he was both unused to and had no one to confess to—that he bore in silence where the perseverance towards his duties were the only solace he had. In the mountains of paperwork and the hours passed within meetings Aymeric dared to think he could lessen the ache she left in her wake, and it did; he could distract himself somewhat only for it to rush back to him the moment he could spare a brief glance outside his office window or in the night as he fought to find sleep in a bed that now felt far too empty.

He took a drink as if to douse away the last of such feeling thoughts as if they did not matter. These thoughts didn’t matter, not here, now with Ahlis returned to the city, and to him. After all, they had much to catch up on, a task Aymeric was quite eager to begin. That is until he saw Ahlis rise up from her seat, tea placed down and forgotten on the tabletop. Her movement silenced him as he watched her approach to his side, her hand wordlessly reaching for his face; he felt Ahlis briefly touch his cheek with a finger, curled with the knuckle pressed against his skin.

“Perhaps we should retire early,” she chanced to say, voice tentative.

It was a temptation; as much as he wished for her caress to continue soothing him much remained unsaid between them and almost as many reasons not to speak of them. Yet he worried, for her sake, even when she refused him.

“I have missed you,” Aymeric said quietly as his own hand reached for hers against his face. “Yet much has transpired since we last seen one another. I have seen how some of it has taken its toll as well.” A pause, his fingers tightening for a moment as they held her. “Will you not speak more of it to me?”

Aymeric watched as her eyes shifted away from him, her expression shifting and pensive. He couldn’t fault her reticence. Understanding had to be nurtured somehow: to feel such vulnerability was a risk he hoped Ahlis would take.

“Where to begin...” She sighed as a short laugh escaped her. “Just thinking about how everything started. It’s like some sort of dream, and it is everything but...a dream.”

Ahlis pulled herself away from his side and he let her, the hand that only a moment ago he held within his own brushing against the pale, faded hair that now adorned her crown. She didn’t move far, just to a nearby window shrouded by heavily woven curtains which she pushed back from the glass. The panes were partially clouded with crystalline ice and misty with condensation; her eyes attempted to gaze out into the beyond. The sky was obscured by flurries and a low, heavy cloud cover: the very picture of a dreary and typical evening in Ishgard. The chill that radiated from the window bit through what little protection her garment provided, but Ahlis couldn’t find the urge to turn away. It was familiar to her, this frigid cold; she dared to consider it comforting.

How ironic, the one place that had given her such suffering before now brought her a touch of peace, much of which belonged to the one that quietly approached to her back. He said nothing, instead letting the warmth of his arm to drape carefully around her shoulder. She no longer wished to be reluctant—not with him—over the thoughts and feelings she was so accustomed to shouldering on her own. But this? It felt nearly insurmountable.

“We might need something more than tea if I’m to tackle this tonight.”

“And what, pray tell, were you considering?” Aymeric wondered aloud as he pondered their options. There was the brandy he always kept in the cabinet…

“Coffee,” Ahlis said as she turned to him again, expectant. “A bit unusual of a request, but this may very well take all evening.”

For once Aymeric found himself thankful that he did not, in fact, offer the stronger choice of drink; it made him chuckle to see her be so frank.

“To the pantry then. We may have to do some searching as I am unsure how much stock we truly have.”

“I’ll laugh at you if we can’t find any. Some of the best food I’ve ever had has come out of this place and yet there’s no coffee? I suppose most of the food stuff allowance went towards your lovely wine cellar. Which I still have yet to see, you know.”

“All in due time, I assure you.”

With their hands clasped together, Aymeric pulled her away from the cold of the window towards the manor’s kitchens.

-------

This entry begins directly after a sketch stretched out length-wise down the opposite page. The lines are cleaner than usual with a light addition of color; pastels of pale orange-peach and blue fill in what look to be columns, or block-like structures in-laid with elongated crystals. A tiny written note is written to the side: colors are approx. but scale is inaccurate...impossible to illust. in such a small book...it will do

It is late, early morning. Fourth bell to be exact. I can barely get sentences out but I feel the need to write something down.

I am not at the Stones, instead I decided to return to Ishgard. The time was right and necessary. I couldn’t deny it any longer. We spoke for hours. I am exhausted! But relieved! Details, details. I cannot muster the need to reiterate it all right now but later I might. I need to sleep. This heightened but weary state is very familiar, like those nights back when I would have to pull all-nighters to study. I kind of missed it?

Go to bed you silly woman

There is a gap here, the entry is continued in another sort of ink of a different color: a deep indigo blue.

I told myself I would return to my writing once we’ve gotten more clear on the methods to our next course of action and some rest. Yet while I am truly doing my best on the latter everything has, predictably, turned on its godsdamned head.

Should know better, shouldn’t I? I was not that naive to think that our trials on the First were over once we left the depths but to try and put words to my anger is excruciating. I nearly see red at the very thought of it!

I don’t even want to write at the moment but I know I must, having been soothed by current company and the leisure I find here. This was a needed respite that I nearly deprived myself of due to sense of pride and duty that I take too much pleasure in indulging, hm? I am a fool but what else is new

It feels like a sort of calm has settled in before truly seeing the repercussions of what that bastard has wrought.

Elidibus He has dared to cross me so severely, so damnable is his offense I will run him through just like he makes me so angry but that is fine, good even I can keep this to myself, give me the fire I need to end this

I have to be ready to face this. I need to focus and return to the others as well. Somehow we will persevere as we’ve always had even when all seemed empty and helpless, aye? Though his ruse be painful and clear to us and us alone, the danger and trickery involving all the others...it cannot be allowed. Typical ascian bullshite, no matter what star or realm we find ourselves in.

I fear what revelations have yet to come. I fear I will not be able to bear them. I seek the answers...but what will I find?

It makes me dread, and threatens to make me numb to everything again

I have made myself impatient now as I await Y’shtola’s results from the vault in Noesis. I foresee more secrets and less answers...but I have been wrong before.

I don’t want to leave here

#my writing #the journals #5.2 #holy jeez I actually finished it #cutting it close there whew #I had ALL this time and yet here we are lol #also coffee-time w/ ahlis and aymeric = y'all gonna need that caffeine #and aymeric is gonna need to take the next day off to catch up on sleep hah #alt title: ahlis and aymeric finally catch up post-4.5! aka time to explain the everything #...mostly #I think after 5.3 that booze is gonna come in handy because *screams*#did ahlis speak about elidibus here though...? hmm hmm hmm #ahlis #aymeric #ffxiv fanfic #; final fantasy xiv

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 4 years

Text

The Siren & The Healer (4)

Natasha Romanoff arc

Chapter 4: The Asset

Platonic Natasha x fem!Reader, Loki x fem!Reader (soulmates?)

Theme: With cracks between the most powerful superheroes of the earth, Natasha Romanoff does not find rest when she is assigned on a mission to find the missing pieces of a puzzling power that once nearly got into the hands- rather, tentacles- of Hydra. In order to unearth the pieces, she must dig through her own past and make a decision that might decide the fate of the earth in the coming wars.

Series: Will contain violence, death, destruction, softness, fluff, smut, friendship, and whatnot

Chapter warnings: No Loki. Just the purest form of Goddess in red.

A/N: This was written a few years ago with an OC in mind so reader has a name but it is a reader insert.

Word Count: I might just be the worst patient. Who the heck does not take their medication on time and then wonder what is making life so miserable? There are time I had like a...um...service angel. You know, like service dogs? Someone to just tap my shoulder and say ‘Hey, time for your meds.’ And then if I forgot it and didn’t do it on time, the angel would come sit with me and tell me, sweetly to take my meds. Am I allowed to be angry at myself because oh God I wanna water on my face, with chunks of ice in it. In a lake. In the December.

MASTERLIST in bio, love

Time: 0815 hrs

Location: Vienna

Lykke Li’s ‘I Follow Rivers’ played on the radio, echoing through the speakers overhead in the small square space of a reception. The walls were brightly beige; looking freshly painted yet never smelled like the typical chemicals that they were. The receptionist was a petite looking blonde dressed in pastel colours. She had scanned you from head to toe in one go when the latter entered the office on the fourth floor.

“He’s busy with a phone call right now. He’ll see you in a moment,” she’d affirmed with a smile without feeling the need to pick up the phone or go inside the door behind her to ask her ‘boss’ about the appointment. You could smell the fishiness from miles away but you wanted to meet the man from last night and ask him to consider contacting the college healers group. You knew they could use the money and marketing right now to keep the Healers United committee afloat.

Oh who are you kidding, Keosha, you thought to herself, you’re doing this for your selfish reasons.

“Everything okay, sweetie? You look tired.” The receptionist’s smooth high pitched voice broke you away from your thoughts. The blonde’s chin rested on her palm, eyeing her visitor interestingly, never breaking away from her smile as she waited for a response.

“Yeah, I’m good. Didn’t get a good amount of sleep last night. College, you know,” you answered with a weak smile before looking away.

The walnut sofa you sat on was just as mundane as the walls. The only thing you thought brought colour to the surroundings was a bunch of succulents kept by the window.

Sigh. This sucks.

A soft breeze entered through the door you’d come in from. You looked at the entrance as if waiting for someone to enter.

Did I turn off the gas after cooking breakfast? Your mind wandered away, never stealing your eyes away from the door. I think I did.

The elevator dinged in the hallway outside.

What about the lights? Did I turn them off? Yes. Yes, I did. Harry won’t get up until nine-thirty. He doesn’t have a morning class on Thursdays. You know he looks adorable when he sleeps.

You heard a pair of boots leave the elevator and enter the hallway, going quiet for a moment.

Did I wash the dishes? An uncertain feeling entered your gut. No, I left them in the sink.

The boots moved again in the hallway and their thump started growing closer. You could make out that they were careful steps, not in a calculated way one walks when one doesn’t want to be noticed, but more like they were used to the steady rhythm that caught minimal attention.

Did I wish Harry goodbye? Your last thought was one nauseating moment before a figure entered the door.

No, I never got to say goodbye to him, your thoughts came to a standstill as you perked up your head, meeting the figure’s eyes, catching your breath. Eyes went wide at what they saw, rather who they saw, alarms going off inside your mind.

“No,” was all that came out of you.

Your body started working on its own, grabbing your bag and standing up, moving quickly towards the exit near you, never looking away until the exit door closed between you and the, dashing downstairs like your life depended on it.

_______________

“That’s the building,” Keiko said over the comms as she marked the five-storey tall red-bricked structure she saw in front of her on her tablet, pinging the other team the location.

Aneka and Brunn parked outside as a lookout on the entrance while Natasha and Keiko took the back. Brunn mapped the building with the SUV’s biothermal scanner, informing the others of the civilians present in the building.

“Keep an eye out for any unusual movements,” Natasha’s voice called out over the comms.

“Roger,” Brunn replied before switching off the comms and turning back to Aneka.

“What are you planning Miss Aneka?” His brown kornerupine eyes stared right into her mind.

“Excuse me!” She spat as her eyes brought judgment upon the man beside her.

“You were clearly instructed by General Okoye to give the Kimoyo beads to Miss Romanoff. So, why haven’t you?”

His eyes did not leave hers as the screens beeped periodically around them in the SUV. The silence was unnerving for a spectator as neither of them backed down.

“I have my reasons,” Aneka finally declared.

“For going against your general’s instructions?”

“For not entirely trusting the Black Widow.”

A click sound called out from the screen. Brunn turned away from her to read Keiko’s message along with the location of the package’s cellphone pinging off from the building near them.

“The package is here.”

Both of them were already ready with their weapons by their side, patiently waiting for any movement to occur by the entrance.

Brunn had one hand resting on the wheel as he checked his watch and then the street outside. The only other visitor in the building was a couple who were crossing the street with their fingers entwined, smiling at each other before disappearing inside.

“What will happen when she finds out?” he called out of nowhere.

Aneka did not flinch by even a centimetre. Her breathing was controlled, as usual, her eyes outside, looking at a young dark-skinned man carrying groceries, having just finished a call. He passed the building’s entrance and turned around the corner.

“She doesn’t have to.”

Brunn did not pursue the conversation further. His eyes followed the same young man down the street as he walked to the building’s end and turned again, disappearing from their site.

A crackle through the speakers killed silence in the vehicle.

“Brunn! Aneka!”, Natasha’s voice ripped through, “It’s a trap! We’ve been had. Cover the back! Get the g-gghh”

Within no second the SUV was swerving to turn down the street.

“Brunn! Look!” Aneka shouted as she pointed at the scene unfolding in front of her.

“What the hell?” was all they could come up with.

_______________

“The traffic cams don’t show him leaving the building, ma'am.” Keiko jumped down gracefully from the bike while still marking all the cameras near the exit points of the building. “I’ll check the building’s security footage,” she added before skipping through building’s parking lot and disappearing behind the service door.

Natasha felt her phone vibrate. She moved it out of her pocket to be greeted by an unknown number.

“Audrey,” she greeted with her alias.

A chuckle came from the earphone.

“Still keeping the old alias, Alianovna?”

There was a moment of silence.

“Chekov.” Natasha never averted herself from the tablet in front of her that still showed no signs of him outside. “I was wondering when I’d get a call from you.”

She turned towards the service door and saw Keiko skipping towards her when she stopped midway, her face turning expressionless at Natasha’s gaze. Before she came over to stand by her boss’ side, she was already down to the three towers in their vicinity that were pinging the call.

“Aye Aye moya Rusalka.”

Natasha straightened her shoulders.

“Always knows what to say when you talk. So tell me, have you missed me lately?” the scruff voice on the other side of the phone sounded like an overconfident high school boy talking to his crush. Natasha couldn’t help but smile. She nodded her head at Keiko in question as she responded to the flirt.

“To tell you the truth, yes, I have,” she disclosed, following Keiko’s signal. Both of them started moving towards the back entrance of the building. “But not for the reasons you think.”

“And I you, Natalia,” the voice on the other end murmured with veiled enthusiasm, “but definitely not for the reasons you think.”

Natasha and Keiko were inside, cautiously but casually moving towards the stairs near the elevator doors.

“And what makes you assume that?”

“Take the elevator. It’s a long walk to the fourth floor,” Chekov’s voice said matter-of-factly.

Natasha’s pace slowed down, carefully taking in her surroundings. Her eyes finally landed on the security camera perched up in the corner opposite to where she stood.

She smiled directly into it.

“So eager to meet me?” she moaned into the phone. A chuckle vibrated through the ear as she moved into the elevator, Keiko following her.

“The last time I was eager to meet you I was gifted with a scar down my chest,” he responded. “It still hurts, Natalia,” came a grumble of a voice.

A smirk crept over the assassin’s rose-tinted lips. “Good.”

The elevator hummed through the three floors, a monotonous melody playing over the speakers.

“I am eager for you to meet someone else today.”

The elevator dinged open and the ladies stepped out. “Your gift is in the office to your left.”

“What are you planning Chekov?” Natasha sang into her phone as she looked at the open door to her left. No soul was visible in her line of sight; just a window and tiny pots of succulents perched at the sill.

“I know about the weapon, Alianovna,” Chekov’s voice announced over the speaker.

So he already knew Fury had the information, Natasha thought to herself. So that could mean-

“And I know someone who could help me get it.”

Natasha moved towards the office, her steps inherently measured, her body on alert.

“But here’s the thing, Rusalka,” he pointed out, “I have already shared the person’s whereabouts with the highest bidder.”

“Meldrake.”

Chekov couldn’t suppress his chuckle.

“So I thought instead of meeting you I’d leave you a gift this time.”

Natasha was almost at the door.

“I’m leaving you the person who knows about the weapon. But here’s the catch.”

Natasha entered the room, her eyes falling to the receptionist who waved at her while tilting her head in suave flirtation.

“One, Meldrake already has the address.”

She saw the receptionist nod at her, smoothly tucking her blonde hair back to reveal her earpiece.

“Two, the informant is a y/a old girl with no idea what is coming for her.”

She turned away from the blonde to look at the only person sitting inside the room. A young face with heavy Y/L/N eyes sat with her head thrown back into the sofa. The same head turned to look at Natasha- who could see the colour in those eyes change a shade as they went wide on seeing the assassin.

Natasha saw the girl gasp at her sight, a reflex ‘no’ forming in her mouth as she grabbed a bag next to her and ran out of the back exit.

It took a moment for everyone, even Chekov, to absorb what just happened. Keiko looked at her red-headed commanding officer for further instructions.

“Do you know each other?” his voice filled with questions and surprise.

“No.” So was Natasha’s.

An inconsistent beep on the receptionist’s desk brought everyone back.

“They’re here.” The receptionist’s soft voice declared. As if on cue, a couple walked out of the elevator, their hands caressing the weapons inside their long coats.

“Until we meet again, Rusalka.” The line went dead.

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myselfinserts · 4 years

Note

“The most inflated egos are often the most fragile.“

Themusic blasted from the building, the lights bright and bouncing from window towindow. In a normal city, in a normal neighborhood, this wouldn't be unusualfor a night club. But in this decrepit looking building, in the middle ofdowntown Nesta City, it was far out of place. Officially, this building hadshut down operation nearly fifteen years ago. It used to be known as the MadBox. And yet, here it stood now. Living under a new name.

"Thorn'sGarden," Ena said slowly, letting the words dance on her tongue. Theyweren't too unpleasant. "So remind me why we're coming here tonight,Harper?"

Harperlet out a playful snicker, offering their arm to her. "You wanna rule theworld? You gotta know which heads to roll and which ones to let talk. I'maintroduce ya to the head of the newest crime family to hit the Elspieunderground in a while. She's got quite the ego, but I think you'll find herthe most interesting plaything."

"Thatso?" Ena smirked. "The most inflated egos are often the mostfragile."

"Thatthey are. Let's go shatter some, shall we?"

Ena took their arm and they made their way inside. The music was thunderous, causing their bodies to vibrate slightly as they walked. Harper looked right at home with their torn leggings and combat boots. Their attire was very similar to that of the dancers on the floor. Ena stood out like a pastel cupcake in a steak house, with her soft pink dress with the embroidered cats on the hem of the skirt. They drew a lot of attention together.

But that was fine. It was what they were going for.

Harper escorted Ena to the back, the dancers parting like the sea as they marched forward. There was a bouncer there, standing nearly nine feet tall, dressed in a pitch black suit covered in red rose vines. He seemed tense, his lips pressed tightly together as he eyed the room. Ena found it rather amusing.

“Hey there, Shrub,” Harper cooed. “Thorn in?”

Shrub looked down at them, not moving from in front of the door. “Do you have an appointment, Alberi?”

Harper shook their head. “Nah, but I don’t need one. Not if she wants me to tell on her to my daddy. I’m sure Inkwell would love the chance to shut down her operation. He’s getting bored at Geode HQ. Desk work, amiright?”

Shrub raised an eyebrow, lifting a hand to his ear and whispering something unintelligible. Ena removed herself from Harper’s arm, taking a step forward and putting her hands on the man’s jacket.

“Tacky pattern,” she mused. “But you make it work. Though I think you’d look better if the flowers were pink.” Ena looked at Harper, giving a slight pout. “Harper?”

“Say no more.” Harper reached out, putting a hand on the jacket and focusing. Slowly, the deep, blood red of the roses began to fade into a delicate pink, Soft, with a slight lavender shine in the blue spotlights. Shrub looked at his suit, his jaw and shoulders relaxing. He actually managed a smile.

“Nice,” he said. “My favorite color.”

Ena smiled. “It is good, isn’t it?”

“Few people appreciate it around here these days. You’re a’ight kid. ” He stepped aside, slowly opening the door. “Thorn says to come in. She’s in The Box.”

“Thanks doll, you’re a peach.” Harper offered their arm again, and once Ena took hold, lead her inside.

And inside was a shock.

Up a short flight of stairs lead to an arena, filled with people surrounding a cage where two fighters were dressed in hero costumes, posing as the announcer was presenting them. Across from where they’d come in, up high and providing a perfect viewpoint of the whole area was a private room, the outside of which were covered in rose vines.

Slowly they made their way up to the box, nearly taken aback when they entered and found it resembling a treasure trove. Precious gemstones, jewelry, bars of gold and strings of pears. Chalices and fine pottery. A throne in the center, near the window of the box, with two smaller ones on either side. There were two men there, dressed in the same tacky patterned suit as Shrub outside. One was feeding gourmet chocolates to someone sitting in the throne, while the other prepared three cups of coffee at a nearby table.

“Hey Thorn,” Harper spat. “Ain’t this a little overkill?”

Ena nodded in agreement. “A bit pretentious, isn’t it?”

A soft blue hand waved, and the men in suits left. Ena and Harper watched as a woman rose from the seat, her long, black halter dress trailing behind her. Her lavender hair had a long braid in it, while the rest was cut relatively shorter. She had horns, two of them, each a different size. Her eyes were red, the same shade as her makeup. Iconic Elspie ears, and skin a soft powder blue. She wore a red zip up hoodie, the shoulder on one side hanging off, revealing thorny vine tattoos all over her arm.

“Harper,” she greeted gently, opening her arms. “Welcome to my little home away from home. It’s been a while.”

Harper smiled, walking up and accepting the embrace. “Good to see you, Thorn.”

Thorn looked over at Ena as they pulled away, looking her over. “And who is your pretty pink pal?”

“This is Ena. I’m her right hand.”

Ena smiled, walking up and holding out her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you,” Thorn said, accepting the handshake. “I’m Thorn. The Head Honcho of ‘The Garden of Sinners’ family. So.” She looked between them, batting her eyes lightly. “What brings my friend’s boss here to my Garden?”

“Harper said I needed to learn which heads to roll and which to let talk.”

“So you came to me for information?”

“I think you misunderstand,” Harper snickered. “She’s gonna decide if your head talks or rolls.”

“...I see.” Thorn’s cheery demeanor waned, the vines on the outside of the box covering the window. “Then I suppose a little privacy is in order.”

Ena watched the plants carefully. “Interesting quirk. Plant control?”

Thorn shook her head. “Not exactly. My family specializes in occlumency and legilimency quirks. My vines make it so no one can hear us, and I can take information I want if someone gets wrapped up in them since the thorns have a truth serum like toxin. It’s handy when I want to crush someone and not hear the screams, but it’s only truly good for defense in combat.”

“Really?” Ena’s voice went low. “Quirks that let you mask or extract information, but you’re not related to Uncle Ceri. You must be a Maddox then.”

Thorn’s face went violet in rage and she shot a glare at Harper. “Did you tell her?”

“Didn’t have to,” Harper said. “Your uncle kinda screwed over her family pretty bad before she was even born. Ena’s got connections and holds one hell of a grudge. If I hadn’t brought her to you first, she’d have found you eventually.”

“Well if she wants to take it out on me because she thinks it’ll help her get to Uncle Boni-shitface, she’ll be mighty disappointed.” Thorn turned away, walking over to pick up one of the coffees. “I got disowned for trying to break in and kill him, and now he’s been transferred somewhere I can’t reach. The bastard put our family through hell and made growing up very, very difficult even after he was arrested. I seem to be the only Maddox that thinks this is a bad thing.”

“So you’re disowned, and have a lot of power in the underground.” Ena smirked. “What do you plan to do with it?”

“Right now I’m just trying to survive with the little empire I’m building for myself.”

Ena followed her, putting a gentle hand on her bare shoulder. “Survival is a very sad baseline for a mobster, don’t you think?”

Thorn looked at her, taken aback slightly. “What?”

“Wouldn’t you rather be able to do more than survive? Wouldn’t you prefer to live? Truly live in the light?” She headed over to the throne, fingers dancing along the gold plating and velvet fabrics. “I’ll admit, you being related to people on my hit list is a little complicated. But...” She turned around, skirt giving a slight twirl. “I like your rose aesthetic. And I think that truth serum could come in handy.”

“And what exactly is it you’d do with it?”

Harper sat on the arm of the throne, lightly taking Ena’s hand as she sat down. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Boniface Maddox had an entire cabinet and resources that are still in motion to this day,” Ena explained. “In order to do what I need to do to achieve my goal, I need allies I can trust.”

“That so?” Thorn went over to the window, leaning on it as she watched Ena and Harper carefully. “And what is it you plan to do? What goal do you have?”

“That’s for me to know, and for you to decide if you want to find out.”

“Harper?”

Harper chuckled. “You heard Ena. If she decides your head rolls, I’m the one to make it so.” Their face softened. “We’ve been friends for years. So what do you say, Thorn?”

She didn’t answer right away, taking a sip of her coffee with a pondering look.

“Thorn?” Ena tilted her head. “Anything to say?”

“...I suppose this means I lost the game, then?” Thorn smiled. “Strange. I haven’t lost in a long time.”

Ena rolled her eyes. “Please. You’re not even a player.”

“I’ve been playing this game far longer than you, miss. A little respect would be nice.”

“I don’t respect people who don’t introduce themselves with a play-name.”

Thorn raised an eyebrow. “A play-name?”

“Yes,” Ena said. “You go by Thorn in your little garden, but it wasn’t a name you picked because you liked it. You took it because you were called that by others without liking it. I noticed how you winced when I said it. But never when Harper did. So either you only like it when certain people call you that, or...” Her voice softened. “That’s the name you want to abandon, but can’t.”

The coffee cup fell to the floor, and Thorn stepped forward, back straight and face stern. Harper tensed, ready to pounce, but Ena gave them a soothing squeeze of the hand. Thorn stopped right in front of her.

“...It’s hard to abandon a name that everyone thinks suits you,” she muttered. “Thorn is what everyone called me because of my quirk. I hate it. Harper normally never calls me that. But you being here, we resulted to the default. I trust them. Can I trust you?”

Ena shrugged. “I suppose you’ll have to fine out.” She motioned to the throne to her left. “Let me properly introduce myself. I’m Ena Aizawa, but you can just call me Ena. Or Milady. Either work for me.”

Thorn paused for a moment before settling into the smaller throne. “My legal name is one I don’t want anything to do with. In a professional setting when others are around, you call me Thorn. But alone like this, just me and you and Harper? Please, call me Tiffany. Tiffany Arbor.” She slowly started to relax. “Will that suffice?”

“I think so.” Ena threw her a wink. “Welcome to the team, Tiffany.”

#myselfinserts #mybnhaocs #friends ocs #the au of class #days of future class #this was fun to write #Harper scenarios are fun #Anonymous

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mob-likes-milk · 5 years

Text

cupcake

Pairing: Reader x Tome Kurata (Mob Psycho 100)

Summary: (Fluff) Tome thought she would finally rest in her club after a long and stressful day, but her intentions were halted after she discovered a chocolate cupcake, nicely sitting on the club’s table.

Warning: none!

Word count: 1431

A/N: not a request but I thought of this small story the other day and wanted to publish it, I hope you’ll enjoy!

The warm atmosphere of the afternoon was slowly starting to decrease, the sky turning into a soft shade of apricot, dusted with trails of sugar. The usual classes finally ended to let the middle school students engage to their club activity. In one of the main corridors, Tome made her way to her club’s room, arms full of junk food she bought the day before. Her mind wasn’t focusing on anything, but to finally get some time to rest after a quite stressful day.

She struggled to slide open the light blue door correctly, a few bags of chips jumping out of her grip.

“G-gosh, I should take multiple trips next time.” The raven-haired girl sighed, her footsteps hastily sounded through the room to the table at the far back. She finally let her arms free; the food landed on the smooth surface like a waterfall, colored packages covered the table with a few Japanese brand names and mascots. But there was something else sitting next to the packages on the long desks, which caught her attention.

A pleasantly done brown cupcake was disposed on the center of the table to Tome’s surprise. Her curiosity took the advantage and she went to investigate the unusual sight. The faint smell of chocolate tickled the young girl’s nostrils, her stomach softly grumbled at the simple vision of the backed good. She picked it up with both hands, her eyes sparkled at how perfect the cupcake looked, the person who baked it sure dedicated time to make it look appetizing.

She noticed a small pastel pink note on the table, previously hidden under the little food cake and extended one hand towards it. She was forcing herself to not bite down the cupcake already; a warning voice in her head kept telling her it was maybe a lure to poison her, in some sort.

When she opened the letter with her lanky fingers, she was taken aback by the careful writing; it was so pleasantly made that every kanji looked like a drawing of its own. Tome started to read with concentration:

“Hello Miss President of the Telepathy club,

I’m sorry if you don’t like chocolate cake, but I heard you talking with your friends in the hallway complaining the club doesn’t have enough food to satisfy your needs and thought you will maybe enjoy a home-made cupcake. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to make some yesterday, but after I heard your conversation, I made my decision clear. I really hope you’ll like it!

PS: I haven’t made the cake poisonous if you think it looks suspicious, you don’t have to worry while eating it.

-A secret admirer”

A delicate cherry hue appeared under her long eyelashes, a feeling of flutter taking over her senses. Who could be that mysterious secret admirer? By the note they left behind, it reads like they weren’t a club member, or someone she was close to.

The door of the club opened in a swift movement, Tome’s mind came back to reality as few familiar faces came to view. Her face described bewilderment as her thoughts were still bothering her functionally, the small pink letter in one hand and the chocolate cupcake in the other.

“Is everything alright, Tome-senpai?” Mameta asked in a worried tone, it was rare to see his president so deep in thought.

“I… I have a secret admirer.” Her blush deepened in color, turning crimson. She was still perplexed by the discovery, her heart clenched in its cage, her mind felt dizzy by the comfortable feeling; she was completely out of herself by this new sensation.

“Oh! That’s awesome!” Haruto, another member, exclaimed with joy. “I knew someone would be head over heels of you, Tome-chan.”

A proud smile now adorned her burning face, she felt honored to have someone finally admiring her to who she was. Her emotions took advantage of her senses and she stuffed the chocolate backed good right in her mouth, creamy icing now covering her smiling lips and porcelain cheeks.

“I am going to find this secret admirer! And nobody can tell me otherwise!” Tome shined in pure bliss, her right arm pointing at the ceiling of the room. The members of the club started to clap to her eagerness, knowing how determined Tome can be.

The Body Improvement club members entered the room at the end of her small speech, their expression showed surprise and confusion by the ongoing situation.

“And you!” She pointed to the smallest boy of the opposite club. “You’ll help me find them!”

“-W-what, me? And who?” Shigeo queried while pointing to himself, his voice shaking and stuttering from the sudden attention.

“Yes, you Mob! You will help me find my secret admirer with your powers! And by will, I mean right now!” She shouted before she took the frail arm of Shigeo in hers, starting to run through the main and empty corridor, overexcited by the new mystery she has to solve.

“T-Tome-chan! No, not so f-fast!” The young boy complained, already feeling drained by the run which only started, to his displeasure. With a grin from ear to ear, she turned to him and exclaimed:

“-There is no time to slow down!

-W-well, maybe you’ll need some time to clean your face…”

The next day, Tome was even more strong-willed to find the person behind the cherry blossom pink letter. She investigated every corner of Salt Middle School with Shigeo on her side to find evidences, but it was revealed to be futile: no pink pages notebook hidden in a locker or a scrambled up paper with writing of a letter.

With her ongoing optimistic attitude, Tome decided to go to her club room earlier than normal to see if the mysterious person came back to give another delicious cake of any sort. On her way, she caught the sight of an unknown student fumbling around with their hands, looking at the baby blue sky outside with nervousness written all over their face. With slight consideration of their situation, the young girl slowly tottered towards them.

“Hey, is everything alright?” She asked unsure, a frown forming on her past reassured look.

A faint and timid yelp escaped the trembling lips of the younger student, their eyes round after being startled by the President of the Telepathy club herself. A shameful blush dusted the soft face of the middle school student, their (e/c) orbs carefully looking away from the Club’s President perplexed stare.

“I’m, I am okay Tome-senpai. Thank you for asking…” An innocent smile formed across their burning cheeks, the warm sensation of being special gently scattered through them. The older student’s concern of their feeling was something incredibly delightful.

“You know my name?” Tome suddenly questioned, wondering if she heard them right. “I wouldn’t have thought that some younger students would know me, what’s your name?” Her finger rubbed her chin, wondering about the revelation. Has she done something recently to be known by students she never saw before? The younger teen was cute if she was honest, so she wasn’t bothered by the thought that much.

“U-um, my name is (Y-Y/n)…” They nervously whispered, turning their head to hide the cardinal red blush from the black iris of the older girl. Trembling from stress, they started to walk off the scene.

” I’m- I’m sorry Tome-senpai, but I need tO GO RIGHT NOW!” The second grader ran off the corridor after shouting their last words, completely flustered by their position. Tome watched (Y/n) sprinting out of the empty corridor to the next exit.

“Don’t run in the hall! Or you will get caught…” Her voice drained as the timid student was out of sight.

She lets out a deep sigh while deliberating the encounter in her head once again; it was the first time she saw them around school, such a shy and polite student she just meet. She won’t lie, they were incredibly cute, and their uniform suited them so nicely, almost perfectly... She violently shook her head, ‘don’t think like that! They are younger than you, Tome!’ The girl scolded to herself, trying to calm her troubling mind. With clear footsteps and thoughts, she made her way to the initial destination of her research; the Telepathy club’s room.

She opened the sidling door, a smile returning to her past serious and puzzled self just by thinking of the other day. Yet, the cheerful expression soon faded to one which left her open-mouthed in surprise: another small cupcake was waiting for her on the club’s table.

#imagine #mp100 #mp100 imagines #mp100 preferences #mob psycho 100 #mob psycho one hundred #mob psycho anime #mob psycho 100 imagines #mob psycho 100 preferences #tome #tome kurata #tome kurata x reader #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff

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crackmadhi · 5 years

Text

I am with Someone

As Nahyuta and Simon got together they found a yet unknown kind of love with one another. Now they only have to tell their their family which sounds easier than it is in reality.

Chapter 1

Wednesday, 4 July 2029

Nervously Nahyuta paced around in his room. He couldn’t wait any longer. He had to tell his mother. He had to let her know that he was with Simon.

But how to do that was the question here. A week and one day had passed since he had returned to Khura’in and he still hadn’t gotten up the courage to tell her about it. Hesitantly he stopped in the middle of his room and glared at the carpet under his feet. A golden pattern of flowers on a deep ted ground. Follow the lines Nahyuta. Follow them and let yourself get pulled into the stream.

Amara had been happy to hear about Apollo and Klavier. She congratulated his brother and had been completely understanding for his need of privacy. Rayfa had been absolutely thrilled of the news even if it first threw her off a bit that he had fallen for a man. But after this initial reaction of confusion, she had asked a million questions and insisted on calling the poor ex-rock star to make sure that he was a good boyfriend for her quasi brother.

They would never be mad at him for liking a man. Why had he even thought about that? This would not be the problem here. His mother might worry since Simon was once convicted for murder and what it would mean for the royal house if people would learn about their relationship.

He had worried about that himself but there was no worth in worrying over that. He had checked in their constitution and they had no explicit rules against a same-sex relationship, so it was anyway ‘only’ a social problem and not a legal one. And somehow, they would work that out.

Nahyuta nodded determined and looked up to the door. He was as ready as he could be and made his way to his mother’s quarters. Quietly he walked along the halls and passed the guards who were bowing dutifully to their regent. He still wasn’t used or comfortable with their display of loyalty, but he had become really good in hiding his discomfort.

Finally, he had reached his mother’s room. He shot the guards beside the door a short look and dismissed them. He wished for privacy while doing this.

“Mother? May I enter for a talk with you?” Nahyuta calmly asked and laid his hand on the door.

Breathing felt heavier than usual and it was as if something stuck in his throat. Damned shall be his nervousness.

“You may enter.”

Nahyuta nodded to himself and opened the door. Quietly he closed it right behind him and looked around for his mother. A red divan with golden patterns sewed on the cushions, two arm hairs in the same colours, an unusually simple dressing table with a wooden chair in front of it, on which his mother sat.

She sat there upright, with her long hair undone and only wearing a plain pastel pink robe which even reached down to the floor and covered her feet. Somehow, Nahyuta couldn’t help it, he wished he could look just as elegant and pretty as her.

Just as he realized his thoughts, he pushed them away and wandered overt o his mother. Cautiously he looked over to armchair and she followed his look.

“Do sit down. Be comfortable”, She told him and went to them herself.

Gracefully she sat down and pointed him to do the same, which he did obediently. Discreetly he took a calming breath and then turned to his mother.

She eyed him eerily, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to expect of him. Which was natural because Nahyuta rarely just got up to visit her. His time was filled royal appointments or cases. They only really met when they were in session or at official meetings with other countries. Well, that was what Nahyuta told himself at least. He knew that if he really wanted, he could make time for her and vice-versa but apparently neither of them really wanted to do that. Or knew how to do it. Many years of separation lied between them and even after a year they hadn’t figured out how to close this gap.

For a moment Nahyuta wondered if his confession would make things even more awkward between them but then let the thought drop. He had come this far, now he would finish it.

“I need to tell you something. It is very important to me and I need you to listen before you are going to express your thoughts to the matter. Would that be alright with you?” Nahyuta asked his mother and folded his hands in his laps.

Amara barely reacted but the twitching of her eyebrows and a slight curling of her lips. Then she nodded and told him: “I accept. I see this is a personal matter? You want my advice and thoughts as a mother and not as former queen then?”

Nahyuta coughed lightly and lowered his head in agreement. It was strange to him having a mother and judging from her wording it was just as strange to Amara as it was to him. Only a small relief in this situation, though.

“I would prefer that, yes. Even though I suppose you will eventually give me your opinion as former queen concerning this matter anyway. “Not that I blame you. I understand that it is a rather … unfortunate mixture of circumstances but it is not like I had a say in this, so… … I hope you can understand that. “Well. I am with someone. We didn’t give it a label, but we talked about it rather thoroughly and we are together now. This person was really patient and kind to me but doesn’t pamper me nor do they shy away from telling me their honest and unfiltered opinion about the things I do or say. “I am very happy with the development and I do not feel ashamed of them. Also, I know that you are surly content with me finding a partner of sorts, yet I didn’t have the courage to tell you about it because… I… …”

Amara sighed. Then she faintly smiled and drove over her eyes with her hand. As she lowered her arm, she caught Nahyuta’s look and gave him a gentle gaze. Of course, his heart had decided to make it difficult for him. How could it not? He was her son after all, and her heart had gotten her into the most delicate situations she could ever dream of.

“It is that Simon boy, isn’t it?”

Nahyuta wanted to feel surprised. But despite knowing he had not talked too often about Simon to make it obvious that he liked him, and his mother never seeing them together, he was glad that she suspected it. He was relieved that she could imagine him falling for a man. And he was somehow happy that despite the distance in between them she somehow managed to guess his feelings.

Nervously Nahyuta laughed and responded while glancing from his hands up the her: “Yes. It’s him. I like him. Maybe even love him. And I understand that it is not easy for me as regent to be in a such a relationship and it might offend or even anger people but – I never chose this. I could not deny my feelings any longer and he was so great when I talked about it with him and I am so sure that this is what I want and I checked the constitution for laws against our relationship and there aren’t any since we actually legalized it in 2009 and -”

Nahyuta stopped as his mother took his hand and shook her head. Amused with a hint of worry in her eyes, which was not supposed to show through her calming demeanour, she shook her head and told her little boy: “I know about all of these laws, Nahyuta. Your father made the first drafts with Datz for this before you were even born. Ga’ran had to wave it through as the queer people shouted for it and it also made us look ‘developed’ and ‘forward-thinking’ in the international eyes. “And as important as these facts are for you as the regent, but right now I am rather interested in the thoughts of my son about this. Tell me, how did you get together? What was it like for you? Just tell me, what you need to tell. I am sure you have a lot to say about this man, haven’t you?”

This made Nahyuta smile sheepishly. Kindly he laid his other hand on his mothers and squeezed it, while pulling the other one out under hers and pushed his bangs behind his ears. He didn’t think he would be given the chance to talk about such things but apparently his mother was determined to surprise him with this.

“I actually have a lot to say about him. He’s … quite the character after all. “I had feelings for him for a pretty long time now, but I never said a thing. I did not plan to say anything at all, and I was sure it would stay like this but then on the first weekend we had together in our last stay, we started discussing queer stuff and he talked about different concepts and tried to explain them. I didn’t understand it right ahead and asked Klavier to elaborate some more. “Anyway, so I found out that he’s asexual and aromantic.”

Nahyuta stopped and waited for his mother to asked what these terms meant but she never asked. Instead she motioned him to continue.

“Well, uhm, that threw me off and I was really certain now that I could never tell him but Klavier told me that I really needed to, because he could easily tell that I was into him and it would be important for me to do so in order to move on and also that I would never know what could get out of this relationship if I didn’t at least try to do something. “So, I told him on my last Saturday in the States. I knew exactly what I was gonna say and I had thought about many reactions he might have. “But he didn’t react anything like I expected. He – he was just wonderful and understanding and said that he would really like to be closer with me, because he liked me, and I was so excited! “I never felt so excited before! And he looked so happy too! I know that’s probably a weird thing to say about a man that almost always smiles or smirks in some form or shape, but he never really strikes me as a content man. There is always some sort of layer around him and back there… It really felt like he opened up to me. “He trusts me, and I can barely comprehend what this means for him. He’s such a loyal and reliable person and him trusting me is such a huge validation. And I somehow really feel like I deserve it. Like I deserve him. I never thought this could happen. “And he’s so cute! Never tell him that I said this, but it is so cute how he talks about birds or anime or smiles after a genuine compliment. He is so true in these strange little mannerisms and seeing him smiling and happy because of me is the greatest thing ever. “And you have no idea how smart he is. It’s so fantastic seeing him working on cases. The way he looks at a crime scene or interrogates witnesses is outstanding. He just has such an interesting and unique perception of things and I just love to see him think and work and – “I even enjoy him being snarky and cynical and sometimes even grumpy. Most of the time at least. Sometimes it’s annoying and it’s also a rather unhealthy coping mechanism. Also, he can be unreasonably stubborn at times, mostly when something or someone he cares about is at risk. “I do understand why but… He’s working on that part.”

At least Nahyuta wanted to believe that he was working on it. Still he did not want his mother to think that he fell for someone who could not take care of himself or was dangerous in some way. Which Simon wasn’t. He did look after himself, he ate and took time for himself. Just sometimes, at least that was how Nahyuta perceived it, he could do a little bit more for himself. Or simply ask for help.

Yet that was a problem for another day, and he turned back to his gushing over his boyfriend or whatever Simon was.

“And despite all that he’s really supportive and kind. And he enjoys cuddling, which is very fortunate since the Americans somehow are rather weird with body contact. They don’t really hug a lot and I’m glad Simon’s different there.”

There he stopped and looked at his mother, who wore wide smile in her face. He couldn’t know or begin to imagine how much he reminded her just of herself at this very moment. This pure delight in his words and the clumsy adoration in his eyes was the same she had showed after she had gotten to know Dhurke better. Datz could probably sing a song about her infatuation with her late husband.

Slowly she laid her hand on her son’s cheek and chuckled as he flustered. She knew that not only her daughter, but he as well had been denied a childhood and his teens. He had had to grow up so fast and fixate so much on his goal that he never had gotten the time to figure himself out. Never the time to really fall for someone or think about who he really was. He had to fit in his post and fix a mess he was not responsible for when others only had started studying.

Yet she saw that there was something Nahyuta held back from her and so she asked: “Simon sound really good enough. I hope, he’ll be able to accustom to our culture well enough.”

“We’re not gonna marry tomorrow! I’m only twenty-six and we’re together for twelve days and I only saw him on three of these!” Nahyuta interjected and pulled huffily away.

Amara had to contain her amusement of his reaction and only raised her eyebrows at his sulking and shook her head.

“I sure hope you are not gonna marry soon. Still, you are the regent and your partner will need to behave accordingly when he is at your side. And that is not discussable”, she finished and fixed him with preaching look.

Nahyuta sighed and rolled his eyes. Apparently, he would never be able to convince Simon to visit him here then. Because this man would never want to act as some sort of royal consort for the monarch and, honestly, he could not blame him for it.

Still there was the fact that he had to address his past and it was better to do that right away than waiting any longer.

“That might all be true”, Nahyuta began then and shifted a bit on his seat before he caught his mother’s look again, “but there is something that might complicate this situation further.

You remember how I once mentioned that he was in prison?”

Amara nodded her expression hardening at once.

“He was on death row for the murder of his late mentor for psychology. He was innocent and that is proven beyond the shadow of a doubt, but it still happened. I can’t deny that, and I don’t want to deny it as it still is important to Simon. He was willingly sacrificing his life, career and dreams he had worked for so hard just to protect his friend. “I know that. But I don’t know if the people will understand it. Just hearing that he had been in prison might make them deaf for any explanation that follows, and I do not want him to be put under such pressure. “So, can we agree to not make this public, right now? I do understand that it is to be transparent to our people, especially after the hardship they went through these past decades, but please let us not make this too hard for us. I will never matter to the throne. My status is only temporary, and my partner will have no influence on the country’s political situation, anyway. Is that alright?”

For a moment the late queen remained silent. Then she closed her eyes and nodded. Her son and his partner should get the right to live their lives in privacy. Especially since everything Nahyuta usually did was somehow commented and discussed by the press. At least his love life should be under his own control.

“Thank you for your understanding. I’m glad that we’ve got the privilege of privacy for now”, Nahyuta said and bowed his head.

Amara inwardly sighed at the formal tone of her son, but she guessed it was easier for hit to talk with her like this. The cliff their time of separation had opened between them wad almost impossible to cross in her eyes and so she left the formality hang in between them.

Calmly she put a smile on her lips and once more reached for her child’s hand to squeeze it.

“I thank you for coming to me with this. I appreciate your trust”, she told him and let go of his hand.

He replied with a crooked smile and shrugged. How else was he to respond to such a statement?

“And for the time you want to come forth with your relationship publicly, we will have found a way to explain the time of his imprisonment properly. And as I believe you to be a good judge of character, I am sure our people will kindly look over the unjustified time he served in jail.”

Nahyuta nodded and stood up. He hoped she was right and when the time came, Simon wouldn’t have to go through the whole discourse he had went through back when he had just been out of jail.

He wished his mother a good night and went outside. A battle less to fight he thought and started to wander in the direction of his wing. Yet he ended up in the gardens and eventually sat down on the bench under an old magnolia tree. He glanced up at it and let out a long sigh. He was relieved but he still feared for their future and he knew that would not end until he had found a way to come out publicly. And right now, he wasn’t ready to that.

“Your Gracefulness.”

Nahyuta shot around and watched Datz approach in a nonchalant stride. The man had startled him, and he felt like telling him off for it, but let it be as he sat down next to him with this look in his eyes.

“How in the Holy Mother’s name did you know?”

Datz chuckled and kindly patted the young regent’s back. The young man looked at him and Datz winked playfully and answered: “It astonishing, how much you resemble your love-stuck teenage parents, when you’re love-struck yourself.”

“Should have seen that coming, shouldn’t I?”

Datz laughed again and this time Nahyuta grinned with him. The ridiculous man always managed to make him feel a bit lighter.

“So, who is the lucky one?” Datz eventually asked with a calmer voice and a lot less hilarity in his eyes.

Nahyuta huffed and confessed: “It’s Simon.”

For a moment Datz remained silent. Then he turned fully serious and said: “You told your mother, right? You just came from her wing.”

“Yes. She’s supportive.”

“I know. She always was supportive of us. You’re just not in an easy position with this. That’s all.”

Nahyuta gulped. He should have talked about this with Datz a long time ago. He was the only one who had lived his whole life in Khura’in as a queer man, and whom he could trust with all his heart. He just had never dared to ask.

“What is it, Yuty? They won’t ask you what you two do in the bedroom, even if they wanted to know. That’s not how the people are here”, Datz joked and slapped his knee.

Yet Nahyuta didn’t feel like joking. Especially not about that topic.

“There’s nothing happening in the bedroom”, Nahyuta mumbled and immediately got Datz worried.

He knew the tone. It was the far too serious one, Nahyuta had always used when he had felt like everything was going to break into pieces and he had to hold on, even though he couldn’t and didn’t want to.

Awkwardly he cleared his throat and offered: “Well, that’s fine as well, if you wanna wait or whatever it is that stops you, it’s your choice. And none of our business quite honestly.”

Nahyuta faced him and pressed his lip into a thin line. In a rush he lowered his head and stared on his knees before he harshly uttered: “Nothing stops us. He’s asexual.”

Before Datz could say something, Nahyuta looked up again and met his eyes filled with determination and spite.

“And I am too.”

Datz blinked several times and then he rose his eyebrows in slow-motion. He had never thought about that option.

“That’s great”, Datz told him and shot him a wary smile as he wasn’t entirely sure how Nahyuta wanted him to react. He felt that the young man needed some sort of response, but he did not know what that could be.

Yet apparently his answer wasn’t too wrong and Nahyuta softly smiled at him and looked back down on his knees. Tension was leaving his shoulders and for once he let himself slouch a bit forward.

“Kid”, Datz uttered as he observed him with an old sadness in his heart, “what is it? What do you want to hear?”

“Are you disappointed? Or surprised? Or anything? I’m glad you’re not mad, don’t get me wrong but – isn’t this big for you?”

Datz knitted his brows together and watched his former ward watch him in childlike manner. He was looking for Datz’ approval. Some sort of recognition from the man, so he knew what he was doing. And because he didn’t dare to ask for that he packed it into such a question.

He sighed and laid his arm around Nahyuta’s shoulder. This wasn’t his part to play. It was Dhurke’s or Amara’s place to strengthen their son’s picture of himself. But Dhurke wasn’t here anymore and Amara…

He really needed to talk with the former queen. They had pushed that talk away for too long and watching Nahyuta fighting on his own any longer, wasn’t simply an option anymore.

“Ah, âtmâ, you can’t disappoint me with being who you are.”

He pushed some of his lilac hair behind his ear and forced a smile on his lips.

“I am a bit surprised by the news. The thought never crossed my mind, as asexual is not a label I heard of very often, but it is nothing that would worry me and I’m happy that you feel comfortable enough to tell me this. Just, if this is big for you, don’t feel the need to come out to everybody at once. You are a strong person and I know that you like having things out in the open, but rushing this stuff usually isn’t the best idea. Take your time. Figure this out and look with this Simon how it goes. If something changes, it changes. If it won’t, it won’t. These descriptions might not fit for your whole life, so feel free to get a fitting one when you’ve outgrown one.”

As Datz had spoken Nahyuta had laid his head on Datz’s shoulder and the older man started petting his back. He had never wanted kids but as Nahyuta and Apollo had grown, he more and more had turned into one of their trust figures. Especially Yuta lay close by his heart, as he had seen him grow so much over the years. He had been such a calm and delicate kid. With so much sensitivity and understanding of mechanisms that were far to complicated for any adult to comprehend. It had hurt him to see him grow colder and harder over the years, even if he knew that it was necessary for him to get some tough skin in this world.

“Bâbu wouldn’t have told me that, would he?”

Datz laughed at the slightly cynically sounding question of his ward and watched the boy sitting up and clumsily smirking at him.

“He really was rather bad with people coming out to him. I remember quite well how strange it was when I told him that I also liked men. I’ll never forget the look of cluelessness in his eyes. You won’t believe it, but you really saw the wheels in his head turning as it dawned him what I just said. It would have been hilarious, hadn’t I been so nervous.”

“What did he say then?” Nahyuta asked amused and curiously watched his strange uncle.

“’Cool. I don’t know how to be a wingman with men though.’”

Datz started crackling after he had said that, just like he had started to laugh back when he had heard Dhurke say that for the first time. He felt Nahyuta giggling next to him as well and amused shoved him in the side with is elbow.

“I’m glad that I got your advice then”, Nahyuta told him and pulled his legs up on the bench and cradled them against his chest.

As Datz shrugged and huffed, he remembered how furiously Dhurke started to stand up for the queer folk after he had realized that one of them was his best friend. He saw his ignorance and fought strongly for them as he knew that it wasn’t easy for them to just exist. It would have been good had Nahyuta seen more of that side from him. He could have needed this fatherly reassurance.

Yet he did not feel too sad at the moment. Nahyuta looked happy. Not the relieved or excited kind of happy, but the free one. Carefree and true.

“I know nothing about your man of interest but I kinda already like him”, Datz told Nahyuta and got him to glance over to him.

“Why?” he asked not too intrigued and soon looked back to the tree with a soft smile on his lips.

“I’m not sure what he’s doing but I think he helps you finding yourself.”

A long pause formed, and they watched the magnolia tree in the soft lights of the lantern. Datz thought about how nice it would be for Dhurke to see his son here and enjoy the evening with his wife and children, while Nahyuta wished that he could show this to Simon. He was sure that the man would love the aesthetics of this warm summer evening.

“He makes time for me.”

Datz looked over to him and saw an admiring glint sparkle in the green eyes, as he watched a blossom fall and been blown over to the little fountain in the garden.

“He makes me take time for myself. Aggressive self-care. … I haven’t told mother but… He’s not taking care of himself that well. He’s not good at sleeping and asking for assistance doesn’t come easy to him. … I thought about using the same method he uses for me to get him at a better place. I realized it would not work. I’m different. I’m new to a lot of concepts he shows me and as I am in a constant situation of change, I can let it happen more easily. I can catch the things he throws at me, as I’m used to catch and adapt. He’s been stuck, though. Stuck in an image people have of him, stuck in a life he didn’t expect to be like this. He has functioned for so long that he just chose to go on functioning without truly living. Would I force him to look for himself, he would shut down. He wouldn’t be able to adapt. How could he? He had to stand still for so long, while everything was moving, he probably can’t truly imagine what it would be like to change at all.”

Datz listened to his musings and inwardly smiled. Nahyuta had an acute sense for these delicate conversations in people’s heads. It was a skill he certainly shared with his mother and yet Datz had to the suspicion that the man’s sixth sense was actually better than his mother’s.

“What are you planning to do then?”

Nahyuta looked at him and let out a sigh. Then he smiled and straightened up. He pulled up his shoulders and winked with both eyes comedically smirking: “I’ll probably have to aggressively care for him. Reversed logic will be my strategy for now and I believe it might work, considering that he cares so much about others that he might look after himself, when he realizes that I’m worried about him.”

Datz started to chuckle and infected Nahyuta with his laughter. They remained there and soon Datz had motivated him to tell some funny stories about the man of his interest, before Nahyuta bid him goodbye and went back to his room. He got ready for bed and before he laid down he checked his phone for messages.

He blinked at the date and remembered that the 4th of July was that ridiculous Independence Day in the States. Simon probably wasn’t at work today and at such days he only got up around ten in the morning.

He smiled at his phone and opened their chat.

Me: Good morning, my panda ~ Happy Independence Day ❤

It didn’t take a minute until the samurai answered.

Panda❤: evening Sad Monk thank you for the ridiculous wishes for the day some people signed a paper 253 years ago

Me: Considering the fact that you do not care for the the holiday, that year count is rather specific isn’t it?

Panda❤: balderdash

Panda❤: i admittedly am an american and know these patriotic nonsense facts as it was infused in our heads

Nahyuta chuckled quietly and typed nervously his next text

Me: I told my mother today.

Panda❤: … elaborate.

Me: That we are together.

Panda❤: brave move i‘m proud of you that costs a lot of courage especially with family members

Me: Thank you ❤ I was inhumanly nervous^^ But I have difficulty imagining you being nervous coming out to your sister tbh

… Panda❤: you have no idea i was horrible at that moment thought i’d die on the spot

Me: You’re kidding

Panda❤: i’ll prove it the next time you’re here go to sleep now khura’in won’t lead itself tomorrow

Me: Shut up panda

Panda❤: i was just about to do that dream sweet dreams stupid monk

Nahyuta smiled at his phone for some second at their bickering, as a last text rolled in and he that crowned his day.

Panda❤: ❤

Link

#ace attorney #aa #ace attorney fanfiction #nahyuta sahdmadhi #simon blackquill #datz are'bal #amara sigatar khura'in #aura blackquill #blackmadhi #asexual nahyuta sahdmadhi #coming out #coming out as ace #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #my work #my writing #my soft boys

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boymeetsweevil · 7 years

Text

warm fuzzies

Grouping: Reader x Seokjin

Word Count: 6.2k of slice of life? fluff?

Summary: In which Jjangu AND his owner, Kim Seokjin, fall for you

Kim Seokjin is a creature of habit. This is why Jin has been taking the same route every time he walks his dog, Jjangu. This is also why he doesn’t switch routes even when the dog starts to linger outside the door of one particular cafe in the middle of the walk. Jin supposes it’s because it’s a dog cafe, that Jjangu is curious about the dogs who are the cafe’s main attraction. It isn’t until what seems like the dozenth time he feels Jjangu start to pull on the leash at the exact same spot that Jin caves and decides to see what it is exactly that’s grabbing his dog’s attention.

At first, the cafe isn’t anything extraordinary. The inside is clean with a pastel pink color scheme and lots of dark green frond plants to set a tropical vibe. Dogs of varying shapes and sizes wander amongst customers begging for treats or scratches behind the ear. Nothing seems out of the ordinary to Jin, but he still follows Jjangu, who is ignoring the cafe dogs in favor of following an invisible trail frantically with his nose pressed to the ground. Jin finds himself winding around tables, plants, other dogs, and apologizing to customers as Jjangu hunts for whatever it is that makes him stop in front of the shop nearly every day.

You’re scrubbing at a stubborn spot on a table towards the back of the cafe, cursing whichever customer it was that spilled their iced tea and left it there to turn into a sticky mess, when you feel the distinctive brush of tongue on your ankle. If you didn’t work at a dog cafe, it would be unsettling to feel a random tongue at any time. Fortunately, you learned quickly how to tune out overly-friendly dogs when you’re too busy puttering around the cafe to clean. Today, however, the licking seems so crazed that you spare a glance down at your feet.

Instead of any of the usual cafe dogs, you see an unknown, scruffy, white dog soaking the cuff of your jeans with its incessant licking. The dog gives you the creeps, especially since it’s swapped the licking for staring up into your eyes. You eye the leash hanging lax from the collar and look around for a potential owner. A few feet away you see a man hissing in the white dog’s direction. When you lock eyes, the man stops hissing and gives you a sheepish expression before walking over to you.

“Sorry,” he says, and goes to pick up the small dog. The dog proceeds to whine and wriggles in the owner’s arms, trying to go back to you.

“It’s okay, happens all the time.”

“I think my dog is in love with you,” the man blurts out before looking shocked at himself. This is new, you think.

“What makes you say that?” You try to hold back a smirk because you had been so bored and were wishing for something interesting to happen to you just half an hour ago.

“We walk by here almost every day, and he always pulls on his leash trying to come inside. I’ve never really thought much of it until I finally let him drag me in here. He went straight for you. Normally he tries to fight other dogs.” You raise your eyebrows at the statement before looking at the dog again incredulously. The dog is still staring at you like you might have the answer to whatever question dogs want answered in life.

“Well, I’m flattered.”

“Are you really?”

“No. I don’t really know what to say. Your dog is a little creepy, to be honest,” you say before remembering you’re at work and add a quick “No offense.”

“No, I get it. Sometimes he looks at me like he’s plotting my murder,” he whispers conspiratorially. You toss your head back and cackle, because it’s been only 5 minutes, but you wouldn’t put it past this dog.

“That’s awful, oh my god,” you wipe a tear threatening to spill out of the corner of your eye. “What’s their name?”

“Oh, um, I’m Jin,” he says, flustered, and sticks a large hand out stiffly.

“I was asking about your dog, but nice to meet you, Jin.” You’re mildly surprised to find that the skin of his hand is smooth when you grasp it. You wonder what type of hand cream he uses.

“Ah, sorry. His name is Jjangu.”

“Hmm,” you sniff, “He looks like a Jjangu.”

“I think so too.” Jin smiles down softly at the dog, who still hasn’t looked away from you, and you catch yourself looking at Jin’s mouth with non-cosmetic interest.

“Well, I’m still on my shift, so I have to go now, but you’re always welcome to come visit me, Jjangu.” You reach over and scratch at Jjangu’s head and ignore the almost reverent look in his eyes. “You too, Jin. We make a mean green tea here.”

From then on, Jin stops by with Jjangu most days and lets the dog follow you around while you tend to the cafe dogs and customers, much to your chagrin. Seokjin sits in the same corner booth every time and smiles as he watches you lecture the dog, marveling at the fact that Jjangu has the decency to look scolded for the first time in his life. You don’t really mind, though. Jjangu, snaggle tooth and all, is growing on you faster than you care to admit. It’s not so bad having Jin around, either. Jin is most certainly a sight for eyes used to chihuahuas and labradors, with his plush lips, big clear eyes, and broad shoulders you want to drape your arms around. And he always comes bearing cheesy jokes and buys the large pastries off the cake rack in the front of the cafe to share with you.

It’s possible, you think to yourself one day as you watch torrential downpour splash across the pavement through the window of the cafe, that you’ve become too attached to Jin and his weird little dog. You were already having a bad day to begin with, but when 2pm comes and goes showing no sign of Jin or Jjangu, you question your professional relationship to them. But only a little bit.

The next day, you’re not so surprised to hear Jjangu’s extra high whines at not having seen you in 48 hours. You are surprised, however, to see Jin standing a bit further away than usual, looking nervous. You wonder if he thinks you’re upset that he didn’t come and quickly school your features into an expression that says “I didn’t miss you that much”.

“Long time no see, Jin.” You bend down to swipe your hand along the length of Jjangu’s spine. “And hello to you, special boy.”

“Yeah, its feels like forever.” Jin looks down at his sneakers sharply. “I’ve been curious about something,” he trails off.

“Shoot.”

“Have you ever been to a dog party?”

“A dog party? Like a dog-themed party?”

“No. Like a party for a dog. Or two dogs, actually.” You catch him wincing as he listens to how inelegant he sounds. You smile, admiring the pretty blush that spreads across his cheeks.

“You would think, but I actually haven’t. Why? Are you inviting me to a dog party, Jin,” you ask with a teasing lilt.

Jin decides it would save him the most embarrassment if maybe he just nodded from now on. So he does.

“Oh,” you blink, “Is it Jjangu’s birthday or something?"

“Yeah. Well, no. Technically, it’s not his birthday until the end of the month, but my friend’s dog’s birthday is soon, so we’re throwing a joint party. I just thought maybe you’d like to come since he’s your biggest fan.” Jin realizes he’s babbling, but hopes you can’t tell. You totally can though.

“I’d love to.” Jin’s eyes widen comically when you don’t reject his offer. He had been worrying that you merely tolerated his and Jjangu’s presence because it meant you got a faithful customer out of it.

“Oh, okay. Well, I’ll text you the details,” he says and gives you a small wave before turning to the front of the cafe to leave.

“Jin,” he turns around at that sound of your call, “You forgot someone.” Jjangu sits contently next to you, one possessive paw resting on your sneaker.

“Right.” He flushes as he comes back to pick up the leash.

“You also don’t have my number yet,” you remind him before sticking your hand out expectantly. He hands you his phone and watches carefully as you type your number in.

When Jin finally leaves, with Jjangu trailing reluctantly behind, you feel a bit lighter on your feet even though your shift isn’t halfway over yet. You even catch yourself humming as you scrape an errant poop pile off the floor. Halfheartedly, you remind yourself that Jin only invited you over to a dog party, not to a human party, and definitely not on a date.

Around 8pm that same day, you receive a text from an unknown number saying “hey its jin”. The smile that appears on your face remains there for an unusual amount of time, but you purposefully don’t think about it.

The day of the party and the details in Jin’s most recent text bring you to a surprisingly nice apartment complex in the heart of the city. Jin didn’t really peg you as a guy with money, but then again, it was one of the few topics you two hadn’t covered yet. Your near-daily interactions were centered around exchanging greetings and then working together to get Jjangu to stop following you when you have to go in the back of the cafe to take inventory. Semi-intimate chats were sprinkled in between those moments. Surprisingly, your boss is calm about the whole ordeal and simply watches, mildly amused, from her spot behind the register.

When you arrive at the door, all the familiarity you’ve built up with Jin dissipates and you’re surprised by how anxious you are. It’s clear that the party is in full swing from the muffled R&B coming from the other side of the door. You briefly wonder if wearing your ‘good cashmere sweater’ is overkill, but it’s too late to worry, because you’ve already arrived and already rung the buzzer.

Jin opens the door a few seconds later and you’re worries are assuaged when you see that he’s dressed nicely too in dark jeans and an expensive-looking turtleneck. He tries to introduce you to the handful of men and women in the main room once he’s hung up your coat but a strange wheezing sound comes from below and you watch Jjangu slowly realize you’re in his territory this time. The next few minutes are funny, but also uncomfortable, as he barks with increasing volume and scampers circles around you, sniffing the entire time.

The rest of the guests laugh it off and Jin begins introducing you again to everyone as the “poor soul his dog has chosen”. It’s cryptic and just ominous enough to be the perfect ice breaker. When you meet Jimin, a friend of Jin’s, you realize his dog Star is the one sharing the party with Jjangu. Jimin is charming and cheeky in a way that has you a little dizzy, especially when he jokes that Jin’s reason for coming to the cafe so often must have something to do with him wanting to see you, not Jjangu.

A few moments later, Jin announces that all the guests have arrived and that he just took the last of the appetizers out of the oven, so the party should officially begin. You all migrate into the kitchen, where you begin chatting with the girl who is dating Jin’s friend Yoongi, and realize maybe Jimin wasn’t really joking earlier.

“We were actually all talking about you before you came in. When Jin was still cooking, earlier.” You try not to look stricken by the confession and lean in casually.

“Oh really. Did Jjangu bring me up or something?”

“No, no. Nothing like that,” she chuckles, “It’s just that Yoongi was complaining about missing his hyung, you know? I guess Yoongi used to drop by to hang out and eat whatever Jin was cooking that day. But since Jin’s been staying at the cafe, the apartment is always empty when Yoongi’s on break. Lazy little thing has to find his own lunch now.”

“I didn’t realize I was starving your boyfriend. Sorry about that.” She brushes your apology off and you feel the tell tale nudge of Jjangu’s wet nose on your ankle. You bend down to scoop him up since it’s his birthday.

When you stand back up, Yoongi’s girlfriend is speaking with someone else. You awkwardly hold the dog, who has gone nearly boneless since he made it into your arms, and accidentally make eye contact with Jin on the other side of the counter. He hasn’t been talking much since he took on the task of supplying food for both the guests and the two birthday dogs. Holding your gaze, he beckons for you to come behind the counter with him, and you do so gratefully.

“How are you holding up,” he asks as he slides a tray of still hot tray appetizers over to you.

“Do I look so uncomfortable that you have to ask me that?” You just barely succeed in shifting Jjangu around so that you can pick an appetizer off the tray with a random plastic spoon.

“Yeah, kind of.” At least he’s honest, you muse. And at least he feels bad for putting you in a semi-awkward situation.

“It’s not so bad. I just kind of feel like I’m back at the cafe, and I’m waiting for someone to give me something to do with my hands.” Jin nods at little Jjangu, who has fallen asleep with his snout tucked into the crook of your elbow.

“Looks like he tried to help you with that.” You snort and try not to jostle the sleeping dog too much.

“I guess. So, I just heard you’ve been forced to abandon Yoongi because of the whole Jjangu thing.” Jin smiles brightly, and his squeaky laugh tinkles in the air around you. He passes the snack tray back and forth amongst the guests while he speaks.

“That’s half true.”

“I actually feel bad, then. You shouldn’t feel obligated to stay and sit at the cafe. Plus, I’m sure that can add up. Financially.”

“Let’s just say money’s not really an issue,” he gives you a look through his peripheral vision to gauge your reaction. You simply nod, checking out the comfortable city apartment. “As for the cafe, I don’t mind walking there. Plus, I don’t think Jjangu would forgive me if we stopped seeing you now.”

“Well, if you’re only coming to see me, I could always…” You stop yourself when you realize the possible implications of what you are about to propose.

“You could always what?” Jin cocks his head and smirks like he knows what you’re going to say. He thinks he does know. He’s very okay with the idea, but he wants to hear you say it.

“I could always come see you--him when my shift ends,” you supply before adding quickly, “That way you could still see Yoongi if you were inclined and you would have more time in the day and Jjangu still gets what he wants.” Cheeks hot, you hide your face from Jin’s gaze by nuzzling a cheek on the top of Jjangu’s head. The fur there smells clean despite his unruly appearance.

“I’m definitely willing to try that out. But if Jjangu stages a rebellion, it’s on you to stop it.”

“And I would. I value the greater good. If I have to put myself on the line, so be it.”

The party continues somewhat smoothly. Wine and beer flows during the rest of the evening and you’re a little drunk when a guy named Hibo (Hobi?) stands next to you and lights the two candles on the bone shaped cupcakes in the center of the table in the dining room. He has the prettiest teeth you’ve ever seen and you tell him, a little wobbly on your feet. He smiles slowly and leans in to say something but Jjangu barks shrilly from the other side of the table where Jin is holding him and watching with a smug expression. Hobi (Hibo?) raises an amused eyebrow, but actually backs off, and you fight the urge to drunkenly lecture the dog like you would a naughty toddler.

Everyone gets quiet and pulls out their phones suddenly and you’re about to ask what’s going on when Jin, also a little tipsy, begins to sing Happy Birthday to Jjangu and Star. His voice is pretty and you wrinkle your brows in concentration, trying to remember if he ever mentioned singing as one of his many talents when he came to visit you at work. You clap when everyone else claps, signaling the end of the song, but you don’t take your eyes off of Jin as you watch him try to get Jjangu to eat a cupcake so Yoongi can snap a photo. He catches you staring when he makes eye contact with you and stretches his hand out across the marble countertop. Numbly, you take the offered cupcake and wiggle it at Jjangu. The puppy hops excitedly out of the chair and scampers across the table to sit politely in front of you. Yoongi laughs at the footage he captures, but Jin flutters over nervously and mumbles about how unsanitary the situation is.

“Sorry, Jin.” You don’t look back at him though, not really sorry, as you hold the cupcake steady for Jjangu.

In the back of your head, you’re mildly impressed at the dog’s attempt to eat cleanly from your hand, but you’re more focused on the feeling of Jin’s torso pressing against your back. In his drunkenness, Jin decides it would be a good idea to grab Jjangu off the table while you’ve got him literally eating out of the palm of your hand. But he miscalculates and he ends up awkwardly caging you in between his front and the side of the table in his attempt to scoop up the dog, his arms acting as walls making you unable to move out the way.

You notice that the setup makes it hard for him to grasp Jjangu, and he almost drops him, but you manage to aid him by bringing the dog into your arms. The result is a slightly drunk Jin clutching a slightly drunk you. Meanwhile Jjangu wags his tail at the proximity of his two favorite people. It takes an uncomfortably long time to disentangle because both of you are suffering from decreased hand-eye coordination. You’re both stupid enough to think that the remedy to the awkwardness is more alcohol.

Once the party winds down and you’re able to leave without causing a scene you’re pretty grateful. Jjangu and Star lie sleeping on their sides like cows on the floor behind Jin’s large sofa, tummies round with treats and tuckered out from being such busy hosts. You slip your shoes on after you toss back the last of your beer, knowing that you’ll need the alcohol blanket as you walk to the subway. The door doesn’t budge when you go to open it and you’re puzzled until you realized Jin’s large hand is keeping it closed. You turn and find him squinting at you.

“Can I help you, sir?” You hiccup a little and it ruins the glare you’re trying giving him. You just want to go home, damnit.

“Don’t forget your promise. Me and Jjangu want to see you here, bright eyed and bushy tailed,” he yanks a little on the hem of your shirt and you ignore the heavy feeling it gives you in the pit of your stomach, “Right after your shift. M’kay?”

You nod, not trusting yourself not to hiccup in his face, and he stumbles away to talk to Jimin who is lingering on the couch even after the majority of the guests left.

Lucky for you, you’re not hungover the morning after the party, so you go about your normal Saturday routine. However, you don’t have to go to work on Sundays either. This leaves you with the whole day to ruminate over the party. You like to think you’re not oblivious, that you’re pretty good with social cues. But this doesn’t stop you from spending the day wondering if you’re not just projecting your own attraction onto Jin.

He’s into me, you think resolutely as you brush your teeth that morning.

What if he’s just a really overzealous dog owner, you wonder as you go for a run.

No one would be so nervous about inviting someone to a dog’s birthday party if they didn’t have a crush, you nod to yourself as you scrub your back in the shower.

Maybe he just misses having someone to cook for, you reason dejectedly as you pay some bills that evening.

So why doesn’t he just tell Yoongi to start coming over again, you mutter to yourself while violently stir frying some vegetables.

Why are you like this, you ask yourself as yourself in bed, silently bracing yourself for Monday.

Time is acting strangely as you go through the motions of your shift. The first half of your shift zips by because there are more customers than normal and you’re too busy to overthink anything. Soon, though, you catch yourself looking at the front door around 2 pm and quickly berate yourself for having such a Pavlovian response towards Jin and his dog. It’s not like every time they came they brought your favorite food. You just talked. Although, you wouldn’t call it just talking.

In the many visits Jin made to the cafe, you learned all sorts of things about each other. You learned he had an older brother, and that they both lived near their parents to help them when they needed it. You learned Jin was getting his Masters in film at a university in the next town over, but he also was also working flexible hours at his father’s firm. In turn, you told him about your goal to get your MBA and how Jjangu wasn’t the first dog to stalk you. By your count, you’ve known Jin and his dog for more than 2 months. You don’t really know what to do with this information, but you try to think of all the possible implications because your shift starts to drag.

When your shift ends, you wish you had packed a change of clothes, but all you can do is fix your hair and remove your apron. You zone out on the ride to Jin’s apartment complex, barely managing to keep your nerves at bay. Being in the business industry means you can’t be scared of meeting new people or of going to new places. So it’s definitely not good for you to be this nervous going to a place you’ve already visited before.

However, the anxiety diminishes to mere butterflies in your stomach when Jin opens the door to his apartment. Jjangu is doing that weird wheezing thing again, so you humor him and squat down so he can run into your arms. Picking him up, you walk with him into the kitchen area to see what Jin is doing. The countertop has some used bowls and measuring utensils lying out on it and it’s not until your stomach growls at the smell of food cooking that you remember you had to skip lunch and you’re hungry.

“I’m glad you brought your appetite. I’ve been wrestling with this recipe for a while and I think I’ve finally gotten all the kinks out of it. Its you don’t tell me it’s perfect, I’ll cry.”

“K-kinks are okay,” you say stiltedly. Even with Jjangu in your arms, you still feel out of place.

“I guess you don’t mind when things are a little kinky, then?” You nearly choke on your tongue and when you look up at Jin’s face, you’re expecting to see a good-natured grin, but all you see is a dark, inquisitive look. He’s testing you.

“A little kinky is good. It shows character.” Jin tilts his head at you before a small smile spreads slowly on his face. You pass the test.

“Then while we’re still on the topic of food,” you grin at his teasing and take the long handled wooden spoon that holds steaming broth he passes you, “Tell me what you think of this.”

While you’re not usually a soup person, you really like Jin’s soup. The flavor is complex and robust, leaving a pleasant memory on your tongue, and there’s enough spice leave your lips tingling a little. It’s good and you tell him so, enjoying the sight of him subtly puffing out his chest when he hears that he did well. He adds a few more ingredients and puts on the lid before walking out of the kitchen gesturing for you to come sit with him on the sofa. Jjangu jumps out of your arms and runs in front of you to sit between you and Jin, and you wonder vaguely if this dog is trying to cock-block you.

The two of you sit in companionable silence. There’s soft music coming from the stereo system and the large picture window on the opposite wall shows the rainy cityscape. You’re instantly even more glad you’re in Jin’s apartment and not walking out of the subway station to your own apartment in the rain.

“So,” Jin clears his throat, “I’ve been doing some thinking and I--” The sound of someone ringing the buzzer outside interrupts him. Jin groans while Jjangu stands in your lap and barks at whoever is behind the door.

A few moments later a man who looks a little like Jin enters the living room, with a pissed off looking Jin trailing behind. The slightly older man looks a little surprised to see you. He sits in the love seat across from you and waves.

“Hi, I’m Jin’s older brother. You are?” You introduce yourself, excited to meet another member of the Kim family.

“Oh, I’ve heard about you. You work at that dog cafe down by the shopping district, right? I think I remember Jin saying that.”

“Yeah, I do. I met Jin through Jjangu there,” you joke. You sneak a peek at Jin and are surprised to see him pouting at the other end of the couch.

“No kidding? Jjangu is actually the reason I came here today. I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything, by the way.” He sends a sly grin at Jin.

“Well, you were. We were kind of about to talk about something important.” You raise your eyebrows in surprise but don’t say anything because you want to see how the conversation will continue. He chuckles at Jin’s pouty demeanor.

“I’ll be quick about it then. Mom’s ankle has been fully healed for a month, so she doesn’t need you to walk him anymore. She also wants me to tell you to stop hogging him since she can spend time with him now.”

Jin stiffens and turns to look at you immediately, embarrassed. He nods before murmuring that he’ll gather Jjangu’s things and leaves the room. Jin’s brother waits a beat until he’s sure Jin won’t hear what he’s about to say before turning to you.

“Sorry for making you witness that. When my mom slipped and fell a while ago, she hurt her ankle and couldn’t walk with the dog like she normally does. So, Jin volunteered since he has more free time than I do. I guess once you guys met, he realized he had an in with you if he kept walking the dog and he probably told my mom she needed her rest. That’s probably how he got away with stealing the dog for so long. Wow, this makes it sound like he’s using Jjangu. And he kind of is, I guess. Don’t get me wrong though, he loves Jjangu, but he was definitely using him a little.” You bite your lip to keep from laughing at his bluntness. He doesn’t notice and continues.

“Honestly, it’s not even that big a deal since he was probably just going to ask you out tonight and its not like he can’t still do that now. But it would be really nice if you helped patch up his ego once I leave. Jin’s a bit stubborn and a huge perfectionist. He’s probably been planning this for a really long time and I’m sure that if my mom didn’t miss her dog so much, she wouldn’t have sent me here.” He quickly pulls away from you when he hears Jin entering the room again.

“Here’s all his stuff,” Jin drops a small duffle bag a childish huff, ”He might need another walk since he didn’t get his usual one today, but I’m sure you don’t mind some quality time with the dog since I’ve been ‘hogging’ him this whole time.” You want to laugh at Jin’s aggressive use of air-quotes, but refrain when you remember he’s nursing a bruised ego at the moment. Jjangu realizes his time with you is nearly over and kneads the fabric covering your thighs forlornly.

“It’s okay, special boy, you can still come see me at work.” He seems to understand your words and you look at him suspiciously and wonder, yet again, if he’s not just a little man in a costume.

You give Jin’s older brother a nod and he gives you a conspicuous wink before shutting the door behind him, leaving Jin flabbergasted and angrier than before. He stomps back to his spot next to you on the couch and rants, mostly to himself.

“What the hell was that? A wink? He’s so cheesy, it’s like he’s the younger sibling, sometimes. I mean, who just barges in on people like that. He should have called first, then he would have known I had company over. And why does he think that it’s cool to--” He cuts himself off to look down at your hand as it rests over his own. You hold it hand in yours and bring it up to rest lightly on the side of your face.

“Don’t mind me,” you say cheekily. You smile at his stuttering when he tries to remain cool and remember what he was saying before you stunned him.

“I-I wasn’t really saying anything, I was just mad he ruined this date.”

“Is this a date?” Your tone is coy as you reach out with your free hand to smooth out the non-existent wrinkles in his shirt around his broad shoulders. He gently extricates his fingers from yours and moves them to the back of your neck at the same time that you wrap your arms around his.

The first things you notice when Jin kisses you are that his lips are incredibly soft and that he smells good enough to eat. You kiss lazily on the couch for a long while, eventually maneuvering each other slowly until you’re seated in his lap and can press him into the back of the couch. His hands migrate from your shoulder blades, down your back, to squeeze themselves into the tops of your jean pockets. Kim Seokjin is an ass man. Go figure.

You reluctantly break the kiss by threading your fingers through his thick and dark hair and tugging lightly. He tries to move to the side of your jaw but you stop him.

“Jin, do you smell that?” He looks dazed and more fucked out than he should for only having gotten to first base. But you reason that it's because this thing between the two of you has been in the works for a long time.

“Hmm?” You feel regretful about having to move off of his lap.

“I think your soup is burning,” you frown sympathetically and watch his eyes grow to the size of saucers. He runs to the kitchen while you follow after him leisurely. You watch from behind his shoulder curiously as he tests the broth before taking it off the burner.

“Don’t worry,” he grins and his cheeks puff out adorably, “The soup is saved. Thanks to you.” His arms snake around your waist again and he shuffles you both back until you can lean against the brushed steel surface of his fridge.

“I didn’t do anything, I just used my nose,” you breezily at the feeling of his warm breath on your neck.

“Well, if we had it my way, this soup would be ruined. Because we’d still be over there for a long time.” Suddenly you feel a familiar stirring in your stomach.

“Jin, I’m hungry.” His eyes take on a mischievous glint.

“Me too,” he mumbles in your ear and walks the tips of his fingers underneath your work shirt.

“No, I’m actually hungry. I’ve been waiting for this soup for, like, 40 minutes.”

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he pulls away and twists to open a nearby cabinet, but keeps a hand rubbing your hip the whole time. “Here, I’ll get you a bowl.”

“Thank you. After though...” He looks down at you hopefully. “Show me your room?”

An hour later finds you waking up from a nap. You blink bleary eyes and stretch your pleasantly sore limbs, taking in the surroundings. You turn to face Jin, who is still sleeping beside you. Propping yourself up on an elbow, you wonder how someone can sleep so beautifully. He looks serene with smooth features and messy bangs. He breathes deeply, one well-muscled arm thrown over his head and the sheets pulled up to slope over one bare shoulder.

You reach out and tease him in his sleep, tickling his cheeks and nose and stifling laughter when he scrunches his face. You relent but soon you realize it’s too quiet. You rack your brain for an explanation and remember that its because Jjangu is gone. Your ankles begin to feel neglected and you feel bad, knowing the little dog will probably wonder why he had to leave you so suddenly. In that moment, you decide that the two of you should try to solve this new Jjangu-related dilemma, so you gently brush his hair out of his face until he starts to stir.

“Wha’sit?” He blinks up at you tiredly and reaches out cuddle you to him. You let yourself be dragged across the bed and maneuvered so his head is pillowed in your lap.

“I’m worried about Jjangu. You think your mom will want to walk all the way over to the café just to let him see me every day?” Jin sits up and his expression slowly changes from sleepy to alert as he realizes the hell Jjangu will raise until he gets to see you again.

“Don’t worry,” he says as he pulls his phone from where it was buried underneath the covers and dials his mother’s number. You wrap a wandering hand around his bare bicep and watch. “Hello, Mom? It’s Jinnie. I have to talk to you about Jjangu. It’s a long story,” he sighs.

You listen to about 20 minutes of Jin’s dramatic story about how both he and Jjangu became enamored with you, but Mama Kim isn’t buying it. Finally, you can’t take it anymore and silently gesture for him to hand you the phone. He does so, eying you suspiciously. You turn on your customer service voice and work your magic.

Like a true business mogul, you get her to settle for Jin walking Jjangu every other day as long as you come to dinner with Jin tomorrow, and every Tuesday night after that.

“Thank you, Mrs. Kim. I look forward to meeting you. Yes, I’ll take good care of Jin. Mhm. Yes. Have a good evening.” You end the call and turn to give Jin a satisfied smirk. “That’s how you get things done, Sweetcheeks.” Jin stares at you with stars in his eyes.

“Amazing. Truly amazing,” he murmurs and wraps his arm around you to nose at the spot right below the hinge of your jaw.

“You’re too easily impressed,” you grin as he rolls you on top of him.

“Maybe…you’re just impressive,” he argues. The witty comeback you had prepared leaves your mind immediately as you feel him push down the neckline of the T-shirt you borrowed from him to mouth at your shoulder.

“You know,” you sigh, “I need to go home at some point today.”

“Do you have to?” His hands smooth down your back to knead at your butt again and you pray that you never get used to the feeling. You huff and move his hands just to see him pout.

“Yeah, I do, actually.” You end up spending the night.

The next morning you wake to the feeling of pressure on your chest. You crack one eye open and stare directly up Jjangu’s snout. He wags his tail when he sees that you’re awake and barks a happy little wake up song. Jin pokes his head through the threshold of the bedroom while holding a pan full of steaming eggs.

“Good morning, Sunshine. Let me know when you’re ready and we’ll drive you to work,” he chirps.

You groan and roll out of bed, wondering if you can handle two puppies when just one was already such a handful.

#bangtan bookclub #bttnetwork #sonyeondan.net #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts imagines #kim seokjin imagines #kim seokjin reactions #bangtan

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briarwaters · 6 years

Text

Love For Sale

Boring; that would be one word Deirdre would use to describe the flea market she was dragged to. Nothing but old, stinky stuff ever managed to come to the Nimbasa Flea Market; made Deirdre wonder why anyone came to begin with. She picked up an aged Beatles record sitting on the table beside her. It was filthy; the case was worn out, covered with dust, scribbles adorning John Lennon’s face. She made a face and put it back, obviously from a household with children, who knows what it’s been though.

“Can we go yet?" Deirdre asked as her blue eyes darted away from the dead, stuffed squirrel on the table before her. She shuddered internally just thinking about it. Why would you want a dead squirrel with its beady eyes staring straight at you? She just didn’t understand.

Athanasia eyes traveled from the antique music box she was holding and toward the brunette, unamused. “We just got here,” she replied, closing the lid and cutting off the slow melody in the process.

Deirdre rolled her eyes, “What’s your point, Anna?” she asked as she crossed her arms across her chest, earning her a look of disbelief. Deirdre didn’t know what Athanasia expected from her, she already expressed her dislike for the annual market last year.

Athanasia shook her head, sighing, and pulled out her phone from her purse. She looked through her messages before turning her attention back to Deirdre. “Seth and some guys are at the back of the market. Why don’t you go there and I’ll meet up with you guys later.”

Deirdre pursed her lips; that wasn’t the answer she was hoping for. “Fine,” she sighed, looking around quickly before walking towards the back of Nimbasa Convention Center. “I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t do anything bad,” Athanasia called after her, turning her attention back to the music box in her hands.

Deirdre walked through the rows of booths slowly, looking at all of the things that were on display. Most of the things were dull and worn out in earthly tones. She passed by dozens of chairs, tables, dressers, racks of old tattered clothes – things she wonders how people pawned onto one another.

“Dei!” Deirdre’s head turns in the direction of the sound and meets a familiar set of brown eyes. She walks over to her friend Seth who is currently standing in the middle of a crowded pathway. “Fancy meeting you here,” Seth greeted once she is closer to him.

Deirdre replied with an eye roll, “Uh-huh, yeah sure. I thought you were with the other guys.”

Seth shrugged. “I got bored so I started to look around.”

“For what?”

“The diamond in the rough,” Seth replied suavely in his fake, heavy British accent.

“The diamond in the rough?” Deirdre repeats slowly, internally wondering if she would regret her decision to question it.

Seth nods his head as if it were obvious. “There has to be one good thing among all this junk. I mean there has to be one reason why these people keep coming here.”

“Why are you here?” Deirdre asked. The only reason why she was at the market was because Athanasia begged her, profusely, to accompany her. Why would Seth and the other guys be here? Deirdre thought to herself. She raised an eyebrow in suspicion when he didn’t reply immediately.

“Well,” Seth replied, clearing his throat in between his sentence, “Anna might have suggested that we all come.”

Deirdre shot him a look of suspicion. “So then all of you guys just came. Who came anyway?” she asked as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“Charlie and Joel,” Seth replied, walking down the path. “But Joel probably has to leave soon ‘cause he has to go and watch his little sister.”

Deirdre fell into step with him and continued her interrogation. “So the three gamers decided to talk some time off their game addicting ways to come to stupid little market?”

“Yes,” Seth replied, a little irritated. “Do you always ask this many questions?”

“I don’t know,” Deirdre sarcastically remarked. “Do I?”

Seth paused for a moment to shoot Deirdre an unamused look. “You seriously have to stop talking like that. It’s really annoying.”

“You love it,” Deirdre scoffed.

Seth stumbled for his cell phone, his Owl City ringtone blaring from the speakers. “Hello?” Seth said into the device. There was a pause, “Uh-huh.” Deirdre looked around as Seth continued his conversation. Deirdre looked over to her right and saw a booth filled with bright spring colors. “Yeah okay.” She cocked her head to the side, and unusual color theme for a flea market booth. “Half an hour? Okay.” Seth hung up and stuck the iPhone back into his pocket as he informed Deirdre of his prior conversation, “Charlie and Anna are going to meet us at the exit in half an hour.”

Seth turned to walk again but was quickly stopped by Deirdre. “Hey, wait,” she said, grabbing onto his arm. “Look at that.”

Seth’s blue eyes followed Deirdre’s finger to a table a row over. “What do you think is over there?” His only reply was a shrug. “Let’s go check it out.” Seth led the way toward the unusual booth, weaving his way through the crowd. Once in front of the booth, the two look at it in curiosity and wonder. There were no signs or tags in sight, just an array of bottles spread out on the table.

Before them is an arrangement of various vials of different colors. Broad, curved, narrow, round – each vial looked hand crafted, not one of them appeared to be identical. Many of the bottles were filled with a translucent lightly tinted liquid. Among the pastel colors were a few rich hues of dark blues and royal purples. Nevertheless, each bottle seemed to gleam under the dim lights of the convention center.

“Spiffy,” Deirdre noted, taking in all the different shade and hues. The bottles reminded her of a flower project she did in the fifth grade, or the dyes her mother would buy around easter.

Seth let out a low whistle, “It’s like a rainbow came and like…” His sentence trailed, his hands gesturing in an attempt to make up for his lack of words.

“What do you think it is?” Deirdre asked, leaning over to take a closer look at the translucent blue vial before her.

“That is time you’re looking at.” Deirdre looked up to see a lady rising from her chair a few feet behind the table..

“Time?” Seth asked in bewilderment.

The women before the two nodded her head, her sapphire ringlets moving with her gentle motion. “Inside of that bottle is time.”

Deirdre looked back at the bottle before standing up straight. “You can’t put time into a bottle, that’s impossible.”

“Not impossible, just improbable,” the lady replied. On her shirt is a name card and that reads ‘Evie’ in a perfect script.

“And what’s in this one?” Seth asked pointing to a translucent orange vial a few bottles away from the blue one Deirdre was looking at.

“Courage,” the Evie replies instantly.

Deirdre rolled her eyes, thinking that this lady was obviously mental. “And I suppose this one is luck,” she remarked sarcastically, pointing at a transparent celadon vial.

“It is.” The seriousness in her voice startled the two; her tone left no room for questions.

“Okay listen, lady,” Seth replied critically. “You can’t go around telling people you have luck in a bottle and think they’re going to believe you.”

“Whether they believe me is up to them,” Evie replied. “I think what we should be focusing on is: if you two are so quick to believe what I am telling you is a lie, why haven’t the two of you left?” Evie looked between the two teens. “That is unless a part of you does actually believe in what I am saying and there is nothing wrong with that.”

“So you’re telling me that if I like drink this bottle of ‘courage’,” Seth said, using his fingers to make air quotes. “I will suddenly have courage?”

“It only works if you believe it will,” Evie replied.

Deirdre elbowed her friend, “This could be your diamond in the rough.” Seth looked down at her in a glower and Deirdre let out a sigh, “It’s not like you’re gonna find anything remotely better than a person trying to sell you abstract ideas.”

Seth stared at her for a little while longer before caving into his child like ways, “I’ll get one if you get one.” Deirdre let out a laugh but agreed anyway. “What do you have?”

Evie gave the young pair a smile, “I think I might have something to your interest.” Evie picked up a round vial containing an oblique, dark emerald substance and handed it to Seth. “A bottle of excitement for a rainy day,” Evie said.

Seth looked at the bottle in his hand. “It fits the child in you,” Deirdre commented, with a small smirk.

Evie handed Deirdre a thin, curved bottle with a transparent rose tinted liquid, “Perhaps a bottle of true love for the little lady.”

Deirdre’s eyes snapped to meet Evie’s, seeing that she was giving her a knowing look. With her fingers wrapped around the vial, a single person came to mind. Did she want to believe she held true love in her hands or was that too hopeful for her?

#short story #love for sale #OP

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