#darker than black november 11 x reader
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fairy-writes · 7 months ago
Note
so…I’ve seen you write something for Hei from Darker than Black, and if it’s not too much trouble I WILL request more of him in the future, there needs to be more DtB content out there.
BUT
I also saw a note about November 11, and I wanted to ask if you might be willing to do something with him with a femme civilian reader? she’s very shy, not very outgoing and not prone to going many places on her own unless she has to go to a store or feels daring enough to go to a café, but wound up affiliated with a contractor and November’s job is initially to just get rid of said contractor, but as he gathers intel he winds up very interested in the reader. at first curiosity, but it blooms into something he just can’t quite put his finger on. meanwhile the reader just sees a very friendly Jack Simon, and falls for him too.
but he has a very icy secret, can he keep it or will he be forced to choose between his profession and what he knows is in his heart?
…also mild Dadvember because he’s very much July’s dad and I will hear nothing to the contrary
KNITTED WITH SECRECY
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Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!
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Fandom(s): Darker than Black
Pairing(s): November 11 x Reader
Word Count: 6k (PLS READ IM BEGGING YOU)
Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Civilian!Reader, Reader is described as smaller than November 11, Reader is also implied to have longer hair
Notes: THANKS SO MUCH FOR THIS REQUEST
I LOVE NOVEMBER 11 SO MUCH
(This also takes place outside of Japan, just FYI)
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This whole day was a mistake.
It was supposed to be simple. Go out, get groceries, and then go home. Maybe. Just maybe! You could stop at that cat café you had been dying to try on your way home.
Maybe Al wouldn’t be too upset about smelling other cats. 
Who were you kidding? He was always upset when he smelled another animal on your clothes. It was part of what made having the little bobtail so much fun. 
You stifle a sneeze and rub at your nose as people mill through the grocery store. There had been a sale on shrimp and vegetables, hence why you ventured out of your apartment in the first place. But it seemed that you were out of luck. You had yet to find said shrimp or even the veggies on sale. 
And you were looking forward to eating healthy for once, too!
Oh heavens… You were turning into your mother.
You end up ducking out of the grocery store without having bought anything except for some cat treats and wet food and slowly make your way home to your little dingy one-bedroom apartment. 
Only to run straight into the one person you don’t want to talk to the moment you get into your apartment complex. You hear your name from a shrill voice and cringe internally. 
“Hello, Mrs. Ellis!” You say cheerily and pour all your fake happiness into your words. You wave ‘happily’ to the old woman outside on the bench near your building. She’s knitting something that looks vaguely like a scarf? She had made you something last year for Christmas, and you had just given it to Al as a plaything because it was so itchy. 
Of course, you didn’t tell her. 
“How are you doing, dearie? Are you eating well enough?” She asks, and you nod, pointedly ignoring the fact that you still didn’t have groceries for the week. She didn’t need to know too much. She already knew way more than she let on, and you blamed it on your ability to never shut up when you were nervous.
But she didn’t need to know that either. 
You make aimless small talk for a few minutes until you are positively dying to go upstairs and see your beloved cat. Al’s probably getting close to yowling at the empty apartment by now, and you can’t afford another noise complaint. 
“I really gotta get upstairs, Mrs. Ellis. Al’s waiting for me and all. I need to give him his daily treats, y’know?” You say quickly, and the woman nods happily, curls bouncing, before returning to her knitting. 
Your assumption was correct. You could hear Al screeching his lungs out like a child possessed as you made it to the third floor of your apartment building. However, he quiets down when he inevitably hears your keys jingling in the lock. The second the door is open, you can hear his heavy paws on the floor as he tries to get out and see what you have. So, you stick your foot in the crack to stop him, nudging him back with your toes as you squeeze in through the door. 
The little (big) bobtail cat chirps, meows, and weaves between your legs as if trying to trip you. He can surely smell the treats in your grocery bag and, despite already being rather hefty, is begging for more. 
“I know, I know, I’m coming!” You say to your cat and set the bag on the countertop in the kitchen. Al doesn’t bother trying to jump up; he’s too heavy for that. And while you had tried several times to put him on a diet, it never seemed to stick. 
It was clear that Al had you wrapped tightly around his paw.
But it was a routine you enjoyed, and routines were good, so you really didn’t complain too much.
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Your routine was obliterated that next week. 
And it all started with a knock on the front door. 
You look up from your Nintendo Switch from your parents and frown, pausing your game and heading toward the entrance of your humble abode. Al was hot on your heels, his collar jingling as you opened the front door. 
“Mrs. Ellis? How can I help you?” You say hesitantly and yelp as she pushes something into your hands. Your heart sinks as you look at what she has given you. 
It’s another scarf. 
By the looks of it, it’s the one she was knitting last week. It’s horribly long and rather lopsided, with horrible colors of yellow and green that burn your retinas. 
“Just a gift for you, dearie! For always working so hard!” She chirps and abruptly leaves you alone in the doorway. 
You look down at your feline companion, who is on his back, batting at the end of the scarf. He trills and chuffs as he plays with the long knitted garment.
“Well, Al… looks like you have a new toy.” You mutter and shut the door. 
That evening, you get another knock on the door. You look back up from your Nintendo Switch—you hadn’t moved since you sat down—and grimace. Two people at your door in one day? It could only be your landlord. Maybe you had gotten a noise complaint that you didn’t know about? You glance at your snoozing feline wrapped in his newest toy and shrug. 
Hopefully, it wasn’t a burglar or worse. Your landlord. Or even worse than that, Mrs. Ellis with yet another scarf. 
It’s none of the above. 
You open your front door just a crack and come face to face with a chest. You blink and look up. 
Styled blond hair, gray eyes hidden behind sunglasses, dressed in a white suit, purple button-down, and matching tie. He’s handsome, exceptionally so. And looks to be around your age, too. You feel your ears burn and your heart speed up. 
Calm down! He was way out of your league anyway!
Besides… You shift your gaze and realize the man isn’t alone. A woman and a child are with him. The woman has dark skin and beautiful golden eyes. She’s dressed in a fuchsia coat with a fur trim. The boy wears a button-down and bow tie with shorts, suspenders, and loafers. 
What an… odd group of people…
“Uh… Can I help you?” You hesitate before remembering your manners at the last second. The man dips his head as if tipping an imaginary hat, and his lips quirked into a dashing smile. 
“Good evening, ma’am. My name is Jack Simon. Might we come inside?” His accent is incredibly attractive, and you feel your ears burning again. 
But… You don’t know any of these people… So you close the door just a smidge. Jack Simon’s smile falters just the tiniest bit. 
“Why should I? I don’t even know who you are.” You say, and the woman chuckles,
“She’s got you there.” She turns her attention to you and grins, “My name is April. This is July. We’re here on official business from MI6. We’re hoping to speak to you about a neighbor in your complex?” She says kindly, and you mentally take note of their strange names and open the door a crack.
“Which neighbor? There are like fifty in this building alone.” You say skeptically and narrow your eyes when Jack Simon reaches into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and pulls out a photo. 
Is that…?
“It’s been some time since this picture was taken, but do you know—”
“That’s Mrs. Ellis.” You blurt, effectively cutting him off as you look at a photo of your much older-looking neighbor. The picture looked like it was taken about sixty years ago when she was in her mid-teens. But the slope of her nose was the same, as was the shape of her eyes. 
Jack raises an eyebrow.
“Does she have a first name?” At this, you shrugged and bent down to pick up Al, who had woken from his nap and was currently trying to escape. April lets out a quiet gasp of glee and lets go of July’s hand. 
“Oh, look at the cute kitty! Might I ask their name?” She asks and extends her hand to let Al sniff. A deep rumbling purr is heard as she scratches under his chin. You let out a tight laugh. 
He’s getting heavy.
“His name is Al Pawcino. He’s an eight-year-old bobtail and incredibly overweight, but we’re trying to work on that.” You say quickly, and she lets out a loud laugh.
“Al Pawcino! You’re kidding!” Jack tries to step in, but you are emboldened by the interest in your feline friend. 
“Al Pacino was my dad’s favorite actor.” You say, and even July steps forward to pet Al. His eyes creep you out a bit. They’re blank and empty like that of a doll. 
“If we could get back on track, please,” Jack says, exasperated, and you nod. 
“I don’t know her first name. I'm pretty sure she doesn’t know mine, either. She lives… actually, I don’t know where she lives in this complex. She mainly sits downstairs and knits.” You reply and shift Al in your arms. 
You were starting to babble again. 
Jack raises an eyebrow.
“Knits?” You frowned and nodded again, setting Al down and retrieving the new scarf on the hook by your door. Al tries to escape, so you nudge him back with your foot and step outside so you can shut the door behind you. 
“Sure, all the time. Here, I’ll show you, they’re kind of bad, though. Al plays with the other one.” You say and hand him the horrendous article of clothing.
The man studies the knitted fabric and then to you.
“Do you know why she gave this to you?” He asks, and you shrug,
“She said she gave me this one because “I’ve been working so hard.”” You reply, and he hums before folding up the ‘scarf’ and tucking it into his trouser pocket. 
It bulges awkwardly, but you don’t have the heart to tell him as you just let out an indignant cry,
“Hey! What are you doing?!” He looks pointedly over his sunglasses (who even wears sunglasses at night?), and your mouth snaps shut.
“We have reason to believe that she is not who she says she is. This scarf is evidence.” He says curtly, and just like that, the odd little trio left you alone outside your apartment.
You watch them leave, and when they descend the stairs, you turn and go to open the front door.
Only to find that it’s locked.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”
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The next time you see the mysterious Jack Simon is just the following week. He doesn’t have April with him, which is odd. Even with your brief first encounter, you had the feeling they were always around each other.
One hand is occupied with his cell phone, which is pressed to his ear. The other holds July’s hand. The doll-like boy simply stands there on the street corner with Jack and watches the world pass by.
You gulp down the last of your coffee at the café and head out, having already paid for your drink. 
What are you doing?
Surely you aren’t—
“Mr. Simon! July!” You find yourself saying, and they both turn to look at you, almost in unison. You offer a friendly smile that you hope doesn’t look too awkward and come to a stop before them. Jack says a quick goodbye and ends his call, smiling that same dashing smile as before.
Again, you can feel your heart speed up.
He says your name, and you duck your head in greeting.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again.” He says, and you fall in stride beside him and his… friend? Son? Acquaintance?
“Likewise, can I ask how your investigation is going?” You ask, and he pulls down his sunglasses to wink, 
“That is confidential information, ma’am.” He quips, and you roll your eyes. 
“I’m part of the investigation, right? Surely I can be told something.” You ask, unsure of where this excitement about the investigation into Mrs. Ellis is coming from. She was a bit obnoxious even though she meant well. But Al didn’t like her, so by proxy, you didn’t either. So, by all means, you shouldn’t have cared about what happened to her. 
But there was something about this mysterious Jack Simon man that wanted you to keep him talking. He had a voice as smooth as silk that made tingles go from the tips of your ears down to your toes. 
Said man sighed, looked both ways, and as the light signifies that you could walk, the three of you started crossing the street. 
“I suppose you can know a little…” He muses and smiles as you give a quiet cheer. “But not here. We need to be away from prying eyes.” He continued quickly, and you blinked several times in confusion. 
Just what was he about to tell you?!
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The car you’re in has blackened windows and heated leather seats. The driver is separated by glass and keeps his eyes on the road. Save for the size, this seems more like a limo than anything. 
“Might I offer you a sparkling water?” Jack says and you lurch awkwardly as you get buckled. 
“Uh… No thanks… I’m not the biggest fan of fizz.” You say, and Jack shrugs, taking one for himself before closing the center console that held the drinks. He raps on the glass separating you and the driver, and the car rumbles into motion. 
“Now… What to tell you about the case?” Jack mutters to himself. You glance at him from where you had been looking out the window. He sat across from you, with July at his side. The little boy was watching you, hands folded neatly in his lap. 
He kind of gave you the creeps… He was so… doll-like…
“What do you know about Contractors?” Jack says abruptly, and you startle slightly. Then you frown. 
“What like construction contractors?” You reply, and he shakes his head. 
“I mean the ones that appeared when Hell and Heaven’s Gate appeared ten years ago.” 
A shiver ran down your spine at that. 
You had heard whispers. People talking in hushed voices over coffee about speculations about people with supernatural powers. About Dolls with no emotions who could see you through their medium. 
Wait a minute… 
Your eyes narrow at Jack Simon and his mysterious child acquaintance, July. 
“Are you a Contractor?” You ask hesitantly, and his eyebrows shoot up. 
“What makes you say that?” He asks, but his tone has changed. Something icy cold, like frost glazing over a window and dropping the temperature. You can’t help but shudder. 
“Your vibes. And July, too. I’ve heard about Dolls, and it makes sense that he’d be one of them.” You say, and Jack Simon stares blankly for a moment.
Then he begins to laugh. 
A deep body-shaking laugh that has him covering his mouth. You feel your face heat up.
Eventually, Jack gets his emotions under control and takes a deep breath. 
“You’ve got me. July is a Doll. I’m a Contractor. April is as well.” He says, and you freeze.
“But I thought Contractors worked for the black market? You said you worked for the United Kingdom and MI6!” You blurt, and he nods his head to the side,
“Not all Contractors work for the black market. Many work for corporations like PANDORA or secret services like MI6.” He explains, and you hum. 
“So you’re like a super secret spy?” You say, almost teasing, and he chuckles at that, making your heart stutter for the umpteenth time that day.
You like the sound of his laugh. 
It is then that you remember why you’re in the darkened car in the first place and snap your fingers. 
“Mrs. Ellis! Why are you investigating her, and what does she have to do with Contractors?” You say, and Jack grins,
“Why, she’s a Contractor herself.”
You choke on your saliva and erupt into a coughing fit. 
“She’s a what?!” You gasp as soon as your hacking subsides. Jack shrugs, adjusting his violet tie.
“MI6 has reason to believe she’s a part of an enemy organization. We don’t know her power, only that she’s encoding messages in her knitting.” A jolt runs through you. 
Her knitting?
“But why give it to me?” You ask, almost scared of the answer. Jack glances out the window as buildings pass briefly before looking back to you. 
“To hide her messages? Who knows. But—”
A phone goes off, playing a jaunty little tune, and he whips out his cellular device.
“Talk to me.” He says, and you hear someone female speaking on the other end. Maybe April? She chatters on momentarily, with Jack humming to show he was listening. But it isn’t long before he hangs up and looks at you seriously. All traces of his sense of humor were gone. 
“It seems someone has broken into your apartment.”
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Your apartment had been ransacked. 
The dining table was overturned, and the chairs were pushed up against the wall. Your bedroom had been ripped apart, and drawers from your dresser were thrown about. Hell, they had even gutted your mattress!
Al squeezed himself out from under your bedframe the second he heard your voice. He came yowling down the hall and cannonballed into your legs, causing you to stumble back against the ever-so-sturdy Jack Simon. He holds July’s hand as you scoop up Al and make your way into your abode in a daze. 
The remaining scarf is gone. 
As is your Nintendo Switch. 
And your journal. 
And probably something else, but you don’t care to check. How had no one heard the noise? The walls were thin enough that the floorboards creaking could be heard next door. 
April is already there as well. She looks at you sympathetically, pulling you into a one-sided hug.
“Don’t worry, love. We’ll find out who did this.” She says, and you snort. 
“It was Mrs. Ellis’s “enemy organization” wasn’t it?” You mumble, and April looks at Jack sharply. 
“Just how much did you tell her?” She inquired, and Jack shrugs, 
“She’s very persuasive.” That is all he says. 
July approaches you as Jack steps out to make a call, and you sink onto your gutted couch with Al still in your arms. Tears start to burn your eyelids, and you bury your face in Al’s fur as July begins to pet his head. 
“What do I do now? I can’t stay here, can I?” You mumble to April, who has taken a seat across from you, dragging one of the chairs over to sit down and cross one leg over the other. 
“Most likely not. That’s what Jack is calling about. We can house you at an MI6 safehouse in the area.” She said, and you nodded with a sniffle. 
At least you have that going for you. Jack comes back into your apartment and surveys the room. 
“The car is still waiting outside. Pack a bag.” He says, and it spurs you into action. 
You hand off Al to July, whose expression doesn’t change but seems happy to hold the overweight cat nonetheless. Then, you head to your destroyed bedroom and track down a duffel bag you had purchased when you swore you were going to start going to the gym. 
Ha, that didn’t last long. 
Clothes are stuffed in the bag, and you also pack some of Al’s toys and treats and pull out an unopened bag of food. It should last you a month or so. After all, you aren’t sure how long you’d be staying at this supposed safehouse. 
Al is corralled into his carrier and then, you are all loaded into the car and off to the next destination. 
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Weeks pass. 
The safehouse is secure, and Al acclimates easily enough. He happily thunders through the halls after jingle balls that July tosses for him. However, you don’t acclimate as quickly. 
You’re left with nightmares of people breaking in to murder you, and the tiny little safehouse does nothing to quell your fears. It’s all cement walls and cold floors. Your room is barely big enough for a twin-size bed and a dresser. There’s a crack in the window that lets in the frigid air at night, and the dining table is barely big enough for the four of you.
Not that the four of you eat together or something. Both Contractors and July are rarely home. Well… that isn’t entirely true. Usually, April is home with you while Jack Simon is out doing who knows what with the Doll. 
April wouldn’t tell you what they were doing. She just said it was ‘reconnaissance’.
But things change three weeks into your little hiding stint. 
You look up from the book April had lent you as Jack and July come in through the front door. July looks as bored as ever but makes a beeline for Al, who perks up at the sight of his friend. Jack, however, seems stressed. He holds an envelope in his hand, running his other hand through his hair and mussing it up. 
It looks… really good like that.
“Any news?” April asks, and Jack simply tosses the envelope and collapses onto the sofa next to you, kicking his feet up in what seems like relief. His head leaned back, and you quickly looked back at your book before he could catch you staring.
“Read the envelope.” He grunted, exhaustion thick in his voice. April shrugs and opens the envelope. 
You set your book down in interest as her eyebrows shoot up, and she looks vaguely alarmed. Well, as alarmed as a Contractor can look, you suppose. 
“Is this real?” She asks, and Jack lolls his head to the side to look at his companion. 
“Took it right out of Ellis’s mailbox. So, unless they planted it—which there might be a chance of that—it’s real.” He said, and you held out a hesitant hand. 
“Can I see?” You ask, and April hands you the envelope and contents. 
You stare blankly at the glossy piece of parchment. It’s an… invitation? The paper is shiny and black, with neat writing in gold lettering. There’s a time, a place, and Mrs. Ellis’s name—which her first name is apparently Ava—all embossed on the front. 
It looked ridiculously expensive. 
“And this is important… Why?” You ask, confused and more than a little worried. Jack finally sits up and plants his feet on the floor,
“It’s a gala. And Ellis is likely to be there. But there’s an issue. And that’s because this organization—and Ellis by proxy—already knows April’s face, which is why she’s been here with you.” He said, rubbing a hand down his face. It was as if a lightbulb went off in your mind,
“So you don’t have a partner to get inside, do you?” You say, and Jack nods an affirmative. April pipes up then,
“She could go with you.” She says and gestures to you. You blink dumbly before it registers just what she has said. 
Go with Jack Simon to a gala?
“Absolutely not!” You and Jack say in unison, and it would’ve been funny had you not panicked at the idea. Though you are panicked likely for a different reason than Jack. April throws her hands up,
“She’s perfect! No one at this organization knows her face!” She tries, and you are already shaking your head. 
“Mrs. Ellis knows my face! Won’t she be there?” You say, and April visibly pauses before her shoulders slump.
Jack, however, seems to be considering the idea despite the outburst. You jab a finger at him in your panic,
“Absolutely not!”
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“I can’t believe you talked me into this.” You grumble, fussing with the strands of hair hanging by your ears. The rest of your hair has been swept up into an elegant chignon at the back of your head. Jack reaches over and moves your hands away from your face.
“Stop touching it. You look stunning.” He says, and you have to turn your head to hide your embarrassment. 
He looks handsome, almost excessively so. Dressed in a pitch-black suit with a plum tie and matching pocket square, he might as well have been a statue at a museum for people to ogle at. You were dressed in a matching plum dress with a low back and cascaded to the floor of the car. The windows were tinted black as always, and you were pretty sure it was the same driver chauffeuring you everywhere. 
The two of you looked for all the world like a couple. 
“Have you arrived yet?” April’s voice crackles to life in your left ear, and it takes all your power not to flinch. She’s just outside the gala event with July, keeping an eye with the Doll’s spectre and the earpiece hidden masterfully in your ear. Jack wasn’t able to have one on account of his shorter hair, so it was up to you to relay any information he or she told you. 
“Not yet. Almost.” You said it, and it was then that the vehicle rolled to a stop. You looked out the window to see couples walking into a large building where the gala was supposedly held. 
You suddenly felt very underdressed despite your extravagant gown. 
Jack got out of the car first and extended a hand to you, which you took. His hands were smooth and cold as they always seemed to be. But he was strong and steady as a rock as you stood and settled your hand on his arm. He leaned down until his lips brushed your ear, 
“Smile, darling, we’re on camera.” He whispered, and you shivered. 
Did he know the effect he had on you? 
He had to. You were rubbish at hiding it. Hell, even April had picked up on it and teased you about your little (ginormous) crush when doing your hair. 
The two of you make it to the doorman, who accepts your (fake) invitation without any issues, and you are allowed inside. 
It’s very quickly that you have to refrain from gasping at the sheer size and magnificence of the interior. There’s a massive crystal chandelier in the center of the ceiling, surrounded by murals of angels and demons and everything in between. Couples are already mingling and dancing on the dance floor, and a small string orchestra is set up in the corner, playing soft music. There are tables with white tablecloths set up around the dance floor where more couples and potential donors are chatting.
Jack leads you to the dancefloor,
“Shall we dance?” He asks, and you can’t bring yourself to say no. 
But it isn’t long until you realize you are very out of your comfort zone. You step on Jack’s feet at least twice before he speaks to you again,
“Keep your eyes on me. Let me lead. There’s a good girl.” He murmurs, and you nod, keeping your eyes up and focused on his face. He offers you a charming grin that has your heart thundering in your chest. 
“The target has been spotted. She’s on the second floor.” Comes July’s voice in your ear, 
That was quick. 
You start gently steering Jack toward the spiral staircase leading up to the second floor. 
“July found Mrs. Ellis. She’s on the second floor.” You whisper to your dance partner, and he nods without a word, effortlessly taking the reigns of the dance until you leave the floor and make a subtle beeline for the staircase. But of course, you have to make it look natural, so you stop and socialize when the situation calls for it. 
“She’s headed toward the server room,” July says again. So, you relay that information to Jack, who takes the initiative and seems to know where he’s going. Or, at the very least, he’s walking with the confidence to make people believe he knows where he’s going. 
The server room is the third door on the right after rounding a corner in the maze of hallways. Your heels are thankfully muffled by the carpet, but you also have to keep a hand on Jack’s arm to keep from toppling over. 
“Why did April talk me into these death traps.” You mutter under your breath and hear Jack let out a breathy laugh,
“If it’s any consolation, you look lovely.” He replies, and you roll your eyes to hide how your heart has leaped into your throat.
“So you’ve said.”
Mrs. Ellis is hunched over a computer, typing at blinding speeds for a seventy-something-year-old woman. She’s dressed in a turtleneck gown with long sleeves and a thumb drive stuck into one of the servers, which looks very expensive. 
“I thought you’d have more tact than immediately heading to the server room,” Jack quipped from the entrance, and both you and Mrs. Ellis jumped. 
Why was he talking now?! Shouldn’t you have snuck up on her?!
“I danced with a few strapping young gentlemen!” She defended herself without turning and pressed a button. All the lights go out, and you can hear screams of surprise from downstairs. Mrs. Ellis turns and begins to glow blue.
So she was a Contractor…
What was her power? Her arm shoots to an impossibly long length and wraps around your throat, dragging you across the floor until she has you in a chokehold against her torso. Her other arm snatches the thumb drive and stuffs it down the front of her dress for safekeeping. 
“Elasticity. Now, that’s a Contract you don’t see every day.” Jack says, but you’ve spent enough time with him to hear the tightness in his voice. 
He’s worried about you.
He takes a step closer, and Mrs. Ellis’s arm tightens around your throat until you gasp for air. 
“Any closer, and I snap her neck.” Mrs. Ellis snarls, and Jack stops. You can see the lines around his eyes, illuminated by the lights of the blinking servers.
Then… He starts to glow… That pale blue glow with red glowing eyes that you now associated with all Contractors.
Right… You forgot he was a Contractor, too.
It seemed that Mrs. Ellis was not privy to this information because she backed up a bit, and you could hear the panic in her voice when she spoke next. He begins to walk forward and she is too panicked to follow through on her threat.
“Wait—Who are you?! Not the CIA?!” Jack grinned, and you cringed.
It looked so… sinister…
“Darling, I’m November 11 from MI6.” He said proudly, and by then, he was in front of you, grabbing ahold of her coiled arm around your neck. You watch as the skin darkens and frost creeps over the palm and fingers. 
It’s getting cold.
Freezing even.
Soon, you hear a wheezing, rattling gasp behind you, and Mrs. Ellis literally shatters into frozen pieces.
Well, that didn’t take long.
You all but collapse with a choked inhale into Jack Simon’s—or is it November 11?—arms. 
“Are you alright, love?” He asked, and you shook your head.
“I could’ve died. What do you think?” You snap, instantly feeling bad but also not caring.
He put you in danger.
You.
A civilian.
A regular human.
Someone who had a pet waiting for them at home.
Jack sighed, pulled you upright by wrapping a cold arm around your shoulders, and together, you started walking toward the server room exit. However, instead of bringing you back to the car, he took you to one of the balconies that dot the exterior of the second floor. You lean on the stone railing and rub at your still-tender throat. A cold breeze sweeps through the gardens, and you begin to tremble and cry.
You could have died.
What would’ve happened to Al had you actually died? Would he be given to the shelter? He wouldn’t be adopted. No one would want an overweight bobtail cat who was getting older and was as cantankerous as they came.
A suit jacket was draped over your shoulders, and you look over to see Jack, a lit cigarette between his lips and a sad sort of look on his face.
“I’m sorry.” He says around the cigarette, and you shrug,
“I agreed to this.” You reply, and he shakes his head,
“We more or less coerced you into it. And for that I’m sorry.” He says, and you give a watery laugh,
“Well then, I accept your apology. Thank you.”
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The mission is wrapped up without any further issues. Jack, April, and July are summoned back to MI6 headquarters.  You were gifted a brand new apartment with a few months off rent as a thanks for your contributions and an apology for the danger you were put in. 
Part of you wonders if it’s Jack’s doing. You had a feeling that MI6 wasn’t usually this generous.
Either way, you weren’t complaining.
The trio is kind enough to help you move what’s left of your old apartment out of storage and into the new place. July isn’t much help, but he keeps Al occupied, and that’s all you could ask for.
“Will you be alright?” April asks as you heft the last box onto your newly assembled dining table. You turn and smile at her,
“I’ll be fine. Tell your boss thank you for all of this.” You say, and she cackles,
“You have Jack to thank for all of this. It was his idea.” She replies, and you blink.
So you were right! 
Jack peeks his head out of the new guest bedroom where he had been building a bed frame.
“Are you telling her all of my secrets?” He teases, and April sticks her tongue out,
“Only because we love you!” She chirps, and you choke on the water in your mouth.
Love huh?
You actually liked the sound of that.
April decides to track down Al and July, leaving you alone with Jack. You meander your way into the guest bedroom, where Jack is lifting the mattress onto the box spring on the bed frame.
“And done!” He says, wiping the sweat off his brow and turning to see you. You grin at him and reach forward boldly to squeeze his hand.
“Thank you. For everything, I mean. Keeping me safe. All of it.” You say, and he dips his head in what you like to imagine is embarrassment.
“Don’t mention it.” He replies and squeezes your hand back.
The room is silent after that, but you don’t let go, and neither does he.
At least… Until…
“I should really get going. We received another mission this morning, and our flight will leave soon.” He says and your smile drops into a sad sort of quirk of your lips.
“Keep in touch, yeah? Come visit when you’re in the area.” You try, and he huffed a laugh.
“Of course.” He says and lets go of your hand.
You hold Al as Jack Simon, July, and April get into the darkened car on the street. Jack paused before he got in, turned to look up where you were standing, and waved. You waved back as best you could with Al in your arms and smiled until they were out of sight. Then, with a sigh, you head back inside to get Al some dinner.
You only wished you knew you’d never see them again.
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monstersandmaw · 5 years ago
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Orctober #11 ‘snow’ - male ice orc x female reader (nsfw)
Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.
Despite me being 'on a break' from Patreon (ie. no one except for brand new subscribers was billed) for November while I work on my novel, here's a 7.7k word orc story. As always with me, it's a bit plotty and very fluffy, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. I said on Discord too that the reader's best friend is a yeti, and his design is based on the yeti from 'The Mummy: Tomb Of The Dragon Emperor'  who are adorable fluffy goofballs.
So, here's my late Orctober offering for you, featuring one Giant Fluff, eight smaller fluffs (huskies), three bigger fluffs (snow-bears), fluffy cliches, fluffy snow, and one Big Gentle(tm)... The reader is female, but for ~90% of it gender isn’t mentioned. It’s really only in the nsfw bit at the end…
___
With a shiver you stepped outside, the snow squeaking and crunching eerily beneath your too-thin boots, and you drew the soft fur of your jacket up around your neck. Squinting through your clouding breath, you blinked, eyelashes icing up before you had gone more than three paces, and the inside of your nose was quite literally frozen, but it didn’t matter. Selkie Rock Point was one of the most northerly villages on the continent, and not counting the various nomadic peoples who lived even further north, it was one of the last places to find permanent shelter and warmth. It was also home.
Tradewatch sat a little further south along the coast, and in the winter the great ice-breaker ships with their dwarven-forged metal prows could still get through until relatively late in the year, but up here you were locked in by sea ice much earlier.
You’d grown up here, the middle child of one of a handful of human families in a village comprised mostly of selkies and white-furred bear-folk, centaurs, cervitaurs, werewolves and other shifters. Most of the people who lived up here had thick fur or a natural resistance to the cold. Your siblings had left to go to the larger towns further south, but you still bred sled dogs in the house where your parents and grandparents had done the same thing.
Now, as you trudged on foot down to the store to stock your nearly empty cupboards up on essentials, a fresh flurry of snow swirled around you and you narrowed your eyes. If you breathed too deeply, it bit into the back of your throat, but you were relatively used to the cold by now.
Out of the murk of the perpetual twilight that choked this part of the world in the winter, you began to make out the large, dark shape of perhaps a centaur. The closer they got, the more details you could pick out, until you finally figured out who it was and called out to them. “Linny! Hey!”
The huge, dapple grey centaur, swaddled up in layers of coats and fur too, startled a little, but laughed. She had a dark fur hat on over her ice blonde hair, and all you could see of her face was a pair of dark brown eyes, her lashes also rimed with ice. “Hey,” she laughed back once she’d recovered her composure. On her back, already covered in a layer of snow, were two large panniers, though they looked empty despite the fact that she was returning from the shop.
“Everything alright?” you asked. Something felt wrong about the way she moved, a strange tension seeping through the air, though you weren’t quite sure what it could be.
She shuffled. “Yeah, just… uh… there are some ice orcs at the general store… I… I didn’t get very close. I thought I’d come back later. From what I heard, they’re only passing through on their way south.”
“Oh.”
Ice orcs.
There were a number of clans of the grey-blue skinned orcs living this far north, and they had a reputation for being vicious, bloody-minded raiders, though not all of them were. A few of them were trappers and hunters by trade, earning their living by taking their sleds pulled by huge snow-bears down to Tradewatch and then across to Eyrie Point. Sometimes they passed through this little collection of houses on their way through, but they rarely stopped to talk or share the time of day with anyone.
“Fuck, it’s freezing,” you hissed as the wind bit at your exposed cheeks.
“Don’t let me keep you,” she said. “I’ll see you at the Whisky Tumbler tonight?” she added with a swish of her tail.
You nodded. “I’ll be there.”
As much as you were nervous of the orcs too, you really needed some more food, so you ploughed on through the deep snow, eventually arriving at the Selkie Rock general store. Outside it were three loaded sleds, and each one was hitched up to a colossal snow-bear. Muzzled, though not cruelly, the bears were either lounging around in the powder like a seal on a summer beach, or, in the case of the one at the front, sitting alertly, rounded ears pricked, nose snuffing at the scents on the wind.
Giving them a wide, cautious berth, you swallowed apprehensively and scuttled into the shop, glancing over your shoulder at them. As you yanked back the heavy door and stepped inside, you collided instantly with something as solid as an iceberg. As you bounced off and your arse hit the half frozen floorboards of the deck outside the shop, you gazed directly up into the face of a truly huge ice orc.
He didn't look amused.
Before you could process what had happened, a colossal hand reached down for you and grabbed the front of your jacket, and you were hoisted off the ground and set back on your feet. “You ok?” he rumbled, taking half a step back so that you weren’t cricking your neck so much. “Didn’t see you down there,” he laughed quietly. His stern expression melted a little under the gesture. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“Uh… No… No, I’m good,” you faltered, resisting the urge to rub your right arse-cheek which still smarted from your tumble.
Fuck, he was really big. And actually, as you looked more closely at him, really handsome.
“Well, that’s good,” he said and stepped back a little more, ushering you inside the store. “Come in before you let all the snow in then.”
“Right.”
As you moved into the relative warmth of the shop, you saw two more ice orcs behind him. The first - the one with which you’d just had your head-on collision - had long black hair, pulled off his face in a single braid that was studded with bone, ivory, and metal beads and hung down to the middle of his back. His animal skin and fur jacket was toggled up the front with more carved horn, and his boots were the soft, reindeer pelt ones traditional with the ice orcs who herded the reindeer a little further south. You assumed, from that and from the sleds outside with their burdens covered against the driving snow, that he was a trapper and trader himself.
The others were a little smaller than him in size, but no less intimidating. Where his skin was a stormy slate grey, the female’s was a shade or two darker, and the male beside her wasn’t an ice orc at all, but had the green skin of their much more southerly cousins. They were still impressive though, and as you let your gaze sweep over them for a couple of seconds, they grinned at you in a way that was surprisingly friendly. Ice orcs usually had an aura of menace to them, but these two seemed relaxed, and as the male looped his arm affectionately around her waist, you realised that they were together.
The female chuckled suddenly and you noticed that she was staring at the largest of the three of them, standing right next to you. “Hey, boss… are we gonna head off, or are you gonna stare at this little human some more…?”
Surprised, you glanced up at him and found that his warm, brown eyes were locked on your face. “Uh,” he grunted. “Yeah. Sure. We’ve got goods to deliver. Uh… take care, ok?” he added at you as he scratched the back of his head with his un-gloved right hand.
“You too,” you chirped with a smile and walked away towards the back of the shop, heart hammering.
When you reached the selkie standing at the back of the shop, he looked at you with wide blue eyes and puffed his cheeks out in relief. “You’ve got balls of permafrost, my friend. I thought they were never going to leave,” he said shakily.
“They cause any trouble?” you asked, puzzled.
“Oh no,” he said, flapping his hands and glancing at the closed door. “No, they were very polite. It’s just… you know… they’re ice orcs! I thought they’d skin me if the price was disagreeable or something… I’ve not seen these ones here before, you see?”
You’d been about to quip that he’d read too many tabloid papers about their kind, but then you recalled that his entire clan had been almost completely wiped out a couple of generations back by an ice orc summer raiding party, so you clamped your mouth shut quickly enough to make your teeth click and smiled awkwardly.
It was only then that you noticed how bare the shelves were.
“Aleq,” you asked softly, and when he saw where your eyes were directed, he sighed.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m sorry. The delivery didn’t come this week, so we’re running out of stuff now. I was going to ask Linny if she’d mind helping me with the sled, but I haven’t seen her yet… She usually comes today.”
You nodded. You knew that there was the permafrost cavern at the other end of town which held emergency supplies, so folks weren’t in danger of starving just yet, but without the delivery, people would be going hungry. “She was intimidated by the orcs and decided to come back later,” you explained. “I met her on her way over here.”
“Damned orcs,” he cursed, though he slow to anger. “What am I going to do?” he asked, his huge dark eyes full of fear as he stared at you.
Aleq wasn’t very tall, perhaps in his late thirties, and he carried the usual soft layer around his belly and chin that most selkies did, and in that moment he looked more like a chubby, frightened puppy than an adult. “I’ll go,” you found yourself saying. “I’ve got the dogs. I can make it to Tradewatch before the light fails. I’ll arrange a new delivery and be back in the morning. Hopefully they’ll be coming with me…”
“Oh, bless you,” he said, and you had to go round the counter and hug him because he looked so relieved.
Once you emerged, you found that the ice orcs had departed, their bears and sleds leaving their tracks in the snow as they headed south out of the village. Having bought very little in the end at Aleq’s, you returned home and began to make preparations for your journey to Tradewatch.
It didn’t take you long to hitch up a team of your fastest and smartest dogs. As you patted the lead bitches and worked your way down the line to where the sled was tied to a peg driven deep into the snow - else they might have taken off without you in their enthusiasm - you gave each dog a cuddle before stepping onto the back and stamping down on the bar which served as a break. It had big metal teeth in it which bit down into the compacted snow under your bodyweight, and allowed you to unhitch the tether without flying off at a hundred miles an hour.
At your signal to get ready, the dogs began a chorus of yapping and barking in their excitement to get going. No matter that you’d done this your whole life, it still gave you a thrill when you said, “Ready? Let’s go!”
You’d modified the sled with a slot that would hold your compass, and as you ran your fur mitten over the domed surface to clear it of snow and fog, you called ‘haw’ for them to take the left of the two paths in the snow up ahead, and the lead girls nudged round to follow it. They wanted to run and since it was only perhaps thirty miles, you let them set their own pace to start with. Any further than twenty-five to thirty miles, and you’d have regulated their pace more strictly, slowing them to a steady, ground-chewing trot. But you knew your team, and they trusted you.
It took just over three hours to reach Tradewatch, and the light was fading. As you drew up alongside the large inn which sat right in the centre of the wide harbour, your dogs’ tongues lolled but they wagged and looked like they could easily have run another twenty miles. You took your time with them, making sure they were all comfortable, before lashing the sled to a specifically placed tether, and stumping inside the familiar inn.
The folks at Tradewatch knew most of those from Selkie Rock Point, and the big, looming, white-furred yeti behind the counter spread his arms and boomed a greeting at you as you entered, sliding your hood back off your wind-bitten face.
“It’s good to see you too, Hugo!” you chuckled as he shimmied out from behind the bar like an excited cub and strode across the nearly empty room to sweep you up into his fluffy arms.
“It’s been ages!” he said, and you wriggled wildly and squealed as he snuffled affectionately at your neck.
“Oh my god you’re such a beast!” you yelled at your childhood best friend. “Get off! Stop! Get off!!” and you smacked him on the arm.
Laughing, he set you back down and stood back, beaming. His short, almost feline muzzle was split into a warm grin, revealing his pronounced canines. His kind and intensely blue eyes bored into yours and he asked, “What brings you here?”
“We didn’t get our food delivery this week, so I came to see what’s going on and try and get something sent out soon.”
His fluffy brows knitted together and his pink, feline nose twitched. “Shit,” he said. And then he gasped, “Oh! Did you bring the doggos?!”
With a laugh, you nodded. “I wondered how long it’d take you to ask. Yes, they’re round the side. Any chance I can stay for the night, by the way?”
“Of course!” he said as he barrelled for the door without looking back. A second later a chorus of excited yipping and howling rose and you shook your head.
“Well, I know where I rank at least…” you said to yourself, looking around the bar for the first time since entering. There in the corner were the three ice orcs from the general store that morning. “Hi,” you said nervously when you realised they'd been watching the spectacle that you and Hugo had made of yourselves.
The big one smiled at you and raised his pewter tankard, while the female whispered something to the other that made him bark out a harsh, amused laugh, and the big one flashed them a look which they both ignored.
Deciding to leave, you found that Hugo had tangled himself and all the dogs up in the lines, and it took you nearly a quarter of an hour to extricate them all. Bashfully sitting in a paw-print patterned snow drift, Hugo looked up at you. “Sorry.”
You had to laugh. “I missed you.”
He rose and helped you kennel the dogs, and once you were done, he said, “Come on, let’s get you inside and warmed up. I’ll bring out something for the dogs now that they’ve had a bit more of a rest.”
“Just add it to my overnight tab, Hugo,” you said firmly, knowing full well that the enormous fluffball was very likely to gift the meat to you and the dogs. He waved a huge hand and you followed him back inside, moving through the bar again on your way upstairs.
As he showed you up to your room, you asked, “The three ice orcs you’ve got downstairs… they were in Selkie Rock this morning.”
“Oh?” he said over his colossal shoulder, carrying your very modest overnight bag upstairs for you. “They cause any trouble?”
“No, none at all,” you said. “How long have they been here? They can’t have left much before I did.”
“An hour or so?” he said. “Why?”
You raised your eyebrows. “Those bears can really run…” you said.
He laughed. “They’ve ‘kennelled’ them - if that’s even the right word for something so big - in the big cages at the back. They’re very polite actually. The female loves to have her ears rubbed, apparently.”
“You’ve tried?” you asked, impressed.
Again, Hugo’s rumbling laugh filled the narrow corridor as he led you to the guest room in his own part of the building, instead of those on the ground floor for travellers. It had always been like this since he moved away from Selkie Rock Point, and you had never questioned it. “I asked them, and the big guy said it was fine to pet them while he was there, but if I valued my arm, I shouldn’t touch her otherwise.”
“Right…” you said rather shakily. Yeti weren’t exactly fragile either.
“Listen, why don’t you get settled in and then come down and grab some food and a drink and we can catch up?” he said, holding the door open for you.
You ducked under his muscular arm and he followed you inside stooping low so as not to scrape his head on the door frame and lingering just long enough to put your bag at the foot of the double bed.
“I have to go and talk to the supplier before they close for the day,” you said regretfully. “I’ll have time for that when I get back, ok?”
He smiled. “Sure.”
You hugged your oldest friend, burying your cheek against his soft stomach - he was nine feet tall after all - and heard him rumble something as he placed his big hands on your back. “I’ve missed you,” you said softly.
“Yeah, I’ve missed you too,” he said, ruffling your hair.
As you re-entered the bar, you caught the way the big orc scowled at you two, but you ignored it and said, “I’ll be back, hopefully in under an hour. I need to hear all about that human you told me you were dating…”
Hugo’s small, pointed ears pulled back against his head and he growled bashfully.
“You’re still together, right?” you asked.
He nodded. “Yeah,” he grinned, love-struck as a spring faun.
You punched him in the stomach, though it had no more effect on him than a light tap would have done to you, and said, “You’re such a dork. I’ll see you later.”
Casting one final look at the orcs, you smiled at the big handsome one and set about sorting out the delayed food order.
In the end, it turned out that their usual delivery driver had broken her leg and wasn’t able to make the journey, and that they didn’t have anyone else at the moment who could make the run. “Our other teams are all out at the moment on long-distance runs,” the fluffy satyr said, terribly embarrassed at the mix-up. “It’s all sitting in the warehouse ready to go, but I had no way of contacting you…”
With a sigh, you said, “Is there no other sled for hire at the moment?”
“Come back tomorrow morning and I’ll see who’s available then,” he said. “But I can’t make any promises. With the winter being as bad as it has been, and now with Fi off work…”
“I understand,” you said tightly. It really wasn’t his fault, but people were going to get hungry. “I’ll see you tomorrow at nine.”
Disheartened, you stumped back to the inn, and while you and Hugo shared drinks and the most amazing food, cooked by his business partner who ran the domestic side of the inn, you shared your worries about the supplies.
“What will you do?” he asked. “I mean, you’ve only got a team of eight dogs… you can’t take enough food for the rest of the winter back to Selkie Rock on your own…”
You shrugged. And then at the exact same time as heavy footfalls sounded behind you on the floorboards of the inn, an idea struck you. You turned around and there, approaching the pair of you with a shy expression on his face, was the big ice orc.
“So…” he said meekly. “I couldn’t help overhearing that you’re in a bit of a bind…?”
“You could say that again,” you said. “Would you and your friends be able to help us out?”
“Yeah,” he said. “We should be able to take it between the three of us,” he smiled. “If you’d like…?”
“My hero!” you grinned and he laughed. It wasn’t far off the depth of Hugo's deep rumble but the sound of it went straight through you and kindled a heat in you that you’d not felt in a long time.
“We’d be happy to help out. Shall we come with you to the warehouse tomorrow?”
“You’re sure?” you asked with a quick look at the other two in the corner. They grinned at you and both offered you a thumbs up, which you thought a bit odd, but at one glance from their leader, they stopped.
“Yeah. I’m Reshi by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Reshi.”
He smiled again, his heavy-set jaw supporting truly massive tusks, and bobbed his head awkwardly before retreating. The other two thumped him on the arm and he swatted them away while you turned and caught Hugo’s eye.
“What?”
“No,” Hugo said firmly.
“No what?”
“No ice orc…” he growled. “I know you… and they’re… they’re not good…”
“You don’t even know them!” you hissed. “They seem alright…”
His scowl eased off a little bit and he said, “Just… be careful.”
You curled up that night in the familiar guest room while the dogs slept in the shelter outside, and snow-laden winds battered against the windows.
In the morning, you made your way down to the bar and found Hugo emerging through another door at the same time. You couldn't help the snicker that escaped you when you caught sight of him and when he flashed you a grumpy scowl, you said, “Your bed-head is worse than mine!”
It was true. His white fur was sticking up all over the place, but he just waved a hand mutely at you and stuck a mug under the coffee machine.
“Did the orcs stay here last night too?” you asked in a gruff whisper as you saw the now familiar trio in the corner of the bar, and he nodded. He’d never been particularly verbose in the morning, at least not until he was caffeinated.
“Mmm,” he added as the machine fired up and the smell of coffee pervaded the room.
The door to the kitchens opened and Perdi backed out, carrying three huge plates of cooked breakfast, carefully balanced. The mothfolk woman looked at you and fluttered her silvery wings a little as she saw you and started to laugh. “You two are as bad as each other,” she laughed. “Good to see you again, by the way,” she added. “I’ll bring you both something to eat in a bit… I’ll let your brains warm up a bit first though…”
“Thanks Perdi,” you smiled.
After you’d eaten, you approached the orcs who had also finished breakfast, and said, “Uh, so I’m almost ready to head over to the warehouse with you… I just have to take care of the dogs first.”
“Great,” Reshi said. “I’m good to go, so just come over when you’re ready and we can go together.”
You nodded, feeling a bit anxious at being alone with the colossal ice orc, particularly after Hugo’s warnings the previous night, but when you came back after feeding your team their breakfast, you found him on his own, crouched by the front door to the bar, petting the tiniest kitten you’d ever seen. He could have fitted it in the palm of his hand.
The strange noise that left your throat made the kitten look up, and as you bit your lips together to keep from making it again, he chuckled.
“I didn’t know the inn had a kitten…” you said, approaching. The little ginger nugget hissed fiercely at you and its tiny little tail puffed up. “I’m… more of a dog person…” you said without greeting it. “They always know.”
“I think he belongs to Perdi. Are you ready?” he said, straightening to his full height. Your mouth went dry and you simply nodded in response.
Outside, you huddled down into your jacket and tried not to keep looking up at him.
A snowy-coated minotaur snorted steam at him and growled as you passed, and you risked asking, “You get that a lot?”
Reshi shrugged. “Depends. Some folks don’t mind us, but others… well… I guess we don’t have the best reputation after all…” he cast his dark, friendly eyes down at you and added, “Honestly, I’m surprised you accepted our offer…”
It was your turn to lift a shoulder in an expressive shrug and you murmured, “We’ll go hungry if we can’t get food delivered… And anyway, you guys seem alright…?”
His laugh was rough but heartfelt and again, it kindled heat between your legs.
The satyr wasn’t all that keen to let his precious cargo leave the warehouse with three ice orcs and their snow-bears, but in the end you convinced him, saying that you’d accept full responsibility for the cargo during transit this one time, and that if anything went wrong, it wasn’t on him. “Please,” you said as he still faltered. “We need this food…”
“Alright then,” he said. “Here, sign this, and you can come and pick it up.”
Once that was done, Reshi looked at you and said, “You want to stay here while I head back and fetch the others? Save you getting all cold…”
“Thanks, but I can ready the dogs and come over with you. We can all leave together from here then, once your sleds are loaded.”
Saying goodbye to Hugo was painful as ever, but you promised to come and visit him again soon when the weather was a bit better. He nodded and hugged you close. “I don’t like the feel of the wind,” he murmured, casting his blue eyes towards the sky. “You make sure you’ve got enough protection for the way back in case it gets worse, alright?”
You nodded. “I’ve always got my emergency supplies and shelter with me, and the dogs are tough. They’ll be alright.”
“I know, I know,” he said. “I can’t help worrying about you. You’ve only got borrowed fur to keep you warm,” he added, tugging affectionately at the fur collar of your hood which you’d pulled down while you’d been inside.
“Thanks for taking care of me and the dogs,” you said as you headed outside.
Hugo eyed the three waiting orcs and pointed his clawed index finger at Reshi. “If she comes to any harm because of you…” he growled, showing all his very sharp teeth.
“She won’t,” Reshi said evenly. “I swear it. We’ll get her and the supplies safely back home.”
The yeti growled again and only shut up when you patted his furry chest. “See you soon,” you said and he nodded.
Reshi turned to the other two and said, “You two ready?”
They nodded, but the female didn’t budge and instead laughed, “You haven’t even introduced us, boss!”
“Shit,” he said, rubbing his chin. His hair was rimed with frost where the other two had covered their heads with deep hoods, but he didn’t seem in the slightest bit chilly. “Well, this is Tahira,” he said as he gestured to the female, who nodded. “And that’s Kushta,” he added at the southern orc, who raised his gloved hand in greeting. “Everyone ready?”
You nodded and said, “I’ll just bring the dogs round.” You’d harnessed them all up when you’d returned from your first trip to the warehouse, but had left them round the side of the inn while you went to say your goodbyes to Hugo.
The team yapped and barked all the way round and Tahira made a comment about hearing them a mile off. The bears snuffed disdainfully at the air as they appeared, but otherwise seemed to accept their new travelling companions easily enough.
With everything finally loaded, you set off for home just after midday. Tahira and Kushta took their two sleds in front of yours, and you slotted in between them and Reshi, who brought up the rear.
After only an hour of travelling, the weather closed in. The storm that Hugo had smelled on the air whipped up quickly, lashing the canvases of the sleds and battering you as you tried to stay astride the skids of your slid. In bitter, near white-out conditions, even the bears slowed to a trudge and the dogs kept their heads down, eyes squinting against the icy wind.
Reshi bellowed something from behind which you didn’t catch, and then he blew on a whistle, three short blasts. Kushta, who was in the lead, held up his right arm, fist balled, and the line drew to a halt.
Striding and plunging through the snow like a bison, Reshi caught up with you and put his hand on your back as he leaned down to yell in your ear, “We have to stop. If we keep going in this, we could get lost or the sleds could tip over.” He had drawn his fur hood up by now, and he lowered the piece of fabric which covered his mouth and nose. It had been cleverly hitched around the tips of his massive tusks.
You agreed. “Emergency shelters?”
He nodded. “They’re on Kush’s sled. We’ve got two. To save time, you could share with me?”
“Sure,” you said. You were hardly about to argue in conditions like these.
With a smile, he patted you once on the back and ploughed off through the snow, his thick thighs working to power him forwards. The packed snow of the track was alright, and the dogs weren’t all that bothered about the weather, other than that they couldn’t see very easily, but you knew that the moment you stepped off the sled you’d be struggling to move.
Reshi returned and said, “You stay on the path for now. We’ll set up the tents, and I’ll come back for you, alright?”
“I’m sure I could help…” you said, but he insisted.
“Thank you, but I think we’d probably be quicker… We’re used to doing this all the time. You just keep warm, ok?”
“Easier said than done…” you said with a hollow laugh. No matter how good the reindeer-fur mittens were, you were starting to get properly cold now.
You watched with avid interest as the orcs got to work. In fact, most of Kushta’s sled was taken up with their own gear, and it transpired that he was usually the support sled while the others carried the trade goods. It was hard to see exactly what they were doing, but their tents were made of tall, straight poles which they covered with a sheet of stitched-together animal pelts, and out of the top they poked a metal chimney. They had small, portable stoves which suddenly seemed like the most inviting thing in the world. Finally they piled and compacted drifts of snow down around the outside of the lower, sloping walls of the conical tents, partly to insulate and partly to anchor them. All in all, it took them fifteen minutes to put up two tents.
“You really have done that a few times…” you said, teeth chattering as Reshi returned to you. He just grinned lopsidedly at you.
Deciding that no one would be travelling along the trails in this weather, you unhitched the dogs and the bears and left the sleds in place. Surprisingly, the bears seemed to welcome your team, but the dogs were cautious. An idea struck you and you said, “Reshi, can I say hello to your bear?”
“You should get inside,” he warned. “You’re getting too cold.”
“Just quickly,” you said. “If I tether the dogs near the bears they’ll be more sheltered, and if they see me greeting the bears, they won’t be afraid - the bears won’t hurt them, right?”
“Oh, no,” he said. “They’ve grown up with dogs too. They’ll be fine.”
You struggled the short distance to where Tahira and Kushta had already settled the bears down, and you glanced up at Reshi. He simply jutted his chin out and you held out your hand for the bear to sniff. You wanted to ask him what her name was, but the wind stole every breath you had from you, so instead you showed the dogs that the bears were friends, settled them down in the middle of the small triangular arrangement of bears, and then allowed Reshi to lead you to his tent.
Tahira was already kindling a fire inside for him, and he smiled at her in thanks as you stepped inside. Instantly protected from the wind, you felt warmer already, and you took your boots off and shook the compacted snow off the soles before bringing them to the fire. Your socks were damp, which wasn’t great, but you had feeling in your toes still, and the fire would do its work to warm the tent up in no time.
“Thanks,” he murmured to Tahira and then spoke softly to her in his own language. For some reason you’d forgotten that he must be bilingual. The sound of his native tongue in his rumbling bass was deeply attractive, and you turned your face away, trying to pretend that the colour in your cheeks and the warmth in your face was from the strengthening fire.
Tahira slipped out and Reshi toggled the flap down securely before removing his jacket and hanging it on a peg that jutted out from one of the supporting poles. He turned and found you staring around at the tent and smiled. “It’s not much, but it’s home for now,” he said.
“It’s amazing. I know your people build homes out of snow in the winter, but I’ve never been inside a shelter like this one.” Actually it was difficult to focus on the neat economy of the shelter when he was standing there wearing a very tight-fitting under-shirt and equally figure-hugging black sealskin leggings. He was so powerful, with enormously muscular thighs and biceps that dipped down from his shoulders and then bulged in just the right way…
He grinned. “The snow houses are more permanent,” he said and you forced yourself to look at his face instead of his incredible body. “It takes time to cut the snow into blocks, and we didn’t have time for that today. These are for hunting trips and emergencies.” He approached and said, “You warming up a bit now?”
You nodded and shot a glance at the tiny wooden stove. “This is neat…” you commented.
“Mmm,” he smiled and then pointed at the matting on the floor beside you and added, “Mind if I sit?”
“What? Of course I don’t mind,” you gasped, still standing with your arms crossed, as close as you could get to the stove without singeing you clothes.
He smiled shyly and stared at the fire for a while, hugging his knees in close.
“Everything ok?” you ventured after a minute. His long hair hung down his back in a thick, black rope, and the flickering light danced on the metal beads braided into it. You resisted the urge to reach for it and test the weight of it.
Reshi swallowed thickly and as the storm raged outside, you barely heard his response. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s… It’s nice.”
“What is? This weather?”
With a look askance at you, he grinned wonkily again and your insides flipped over. “No. It’s nice to meet a human - anyone, actually - who’s not afraid of us.”
“Back in town… with the minotaur… you said it happens a lot?”
He sighed and turned his face away. “Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, a lot of my people are like that and deserve worse than a spat curse in passing, but it’s no different from orcs down south, or gnolls, or…” he trailed off with a sigh. “We’re not all like that. Everyone knows we sell the best quality furs and meat, so they tolerate us, but… it’s wearing after a while.”
You had been standing, trying to get the heat from the fire up the entirety of your front, but now that you were warming up, you took your own jacket and fur outer-trousers off and he stared openly at you for a moment before his skin darkened and he looked away, swallowing thickly.
Approaching him again after dumping them on the edge of the small shelter, you pulled a small storage crate over to him and sat close beside him. On a whim, you rested your head against his huge arm and said, “I don’t think you’re so bad…”
He laughed and you felt the tension wash out of him.
“You hungry?” he asked.
“Not yet, but I could do with something to drink.”
Reshi produced a bottle of thick, berry cordial which he mixed with hot water and produced the most delicious, warming drink you could have thought of. You nursed it in your hands and let him tell you about growing up in a clan that didn’t want to massacre the fuck out of everything within a fifty mile radius.
The wind eased off about an hour later, but he muttered that it probably wouldn’t last. From what you knew of storms in the area, you had to agree. He’d ducked outside and seen what was on the horizon and confirmed your suspicions. As he came back inside, however, you heard a very particular sound coming from the tent beside yours, and you froze, caught halfway between laughing and snorting and barely restraining yourself from either. You weren’t sure if you should be embarrassed or amused that Tahira and Kushta were in the throes of what sounded like particularly amazing sex, and when Reshi saw that you’d also heard, his ears pulled back just a little and he screwed his eyes shut.
“I… I’m sorry about them,” he said as he fastened the toggles of the tent up again behind him.
“Why?” you grinned, finally allowing yourself that giggle.
“They’re horny as rabbits all year round.”
“Must be tough being single while they’re at it…” you said, and then your face fell. “Unless you’re not actually single…” you added quickly. “I’m sorry. I just assumed… I mean… you could have someone waiting for you, right?”
He held up his big hand and laughed. “Relax,” he said. “I’m single. Very, very single.”
The tone of his voice caught you off guard and you frowned.
Reshi laughed but offered no comment.
“No one catch your eye back home?” you asked cautiously.
He shook his head. “I mean, I’ve had partners in the past, but… nothing’s really lasted. I guess it’s partly because I travel a lot, but mostly it’s just…” he shrugged. “No real connection, you know?”
“Tell me about it,” you snorted. “I mean, I love the people in Selkie Rock Point, but… well… there aren’t many of them…! If no one catches your eye, then… well… good luck!”
He grinned. “Try living in an ice orc clan where there are only four or five families, and every Spring Thaw at the festival, you risk being mated off to another clan at the drop of a hat…”
“That happens?”
“All the time.”
“It ever happen to you? I mean, did they ever try?”
“Yeah,” he snorted as he sat back down. “That’s how I met Tahira.”
“No way!” you gasped. “You mean, you and Tahira were…?” At that very moment, a long, satisfied bellow from Kushta sounded from the tent next door and you both snorted and cringed slightly.
Reshi leaned back on his hands in the pleasant warmth of the tent’s fire. “Seems like she’s happy though,” he grinned.
“How did they meet?” you asked. “Kushta doesn’t look like an ice orc?”
Reshi shook his head. “He’s not. He came north when he worked as a guide for people travelling up the coast. We met him in Tradewatch, actually, and they’ve…” Tahira obviously came with a broken cry and he waved his hands. “Well, they’ve never looked back.”
He rolled back onto the floor, his hands folded behind his head and stretched out across the entire diameter of the tent. His socks, you noticed, were rather adorably colourful, in a beautiful pattern of red and blue wool.
The storm picked up again, masking any further activity from next door, and you let Reshi introduce you to an orcish game that was similar to chequers. He was really good, and you were absolutely terrible, but it didn’t stop you having fun for a good couple of hours.
Eventually though, you shared a meal and lay back on the furs afterwards and he caught you staring at him. “What?” he asked in a gentle but definitely perplexed voice.
With a shy laugh, you said, “So… I mean… I’ve seen a few ice orcs before, from a distance…” you said, concentrating on the storm-grey of his skin and not on the warm light in his eyes, or the length of his thick eyelashes, or… Clearing your throat, you went on while he propped himself up on one elbow, face alight with interest, the rest of his body relaxed and easy despite the storm howling outside.
You had worried briefly about the dogs, and he’d even gone out to check on them and reported back that they were all curled up in the snow like little arctic foxes, sheltered by the bulwark that three snow-bears had formed around them. “All very cute,” he’d grinned.
Now, as he listened to you stammering awkwardly about having seen orcs before but never having had a conversation with one, his lips curled into a soft smile.
“And?” he asked coyly. “What’s your opinion of us?”
“Well,” you said, swallowing nervously. “The data set is rather limited, but… from what I know of you… you’re… you’re very lovely…” YOU’RE VERY LOVELY? You groaned. What the hell? Who says something like that? And to an eight and a half foot tower of slate grey skin and muscle and tusk.
To your surprise, he let out a slow, deep laugh. “You are too,” he said.
Something changed then and you smiled, hardly daring to believe that this was headed where you both knew it was.
He reached out for you and gently drew you down off the small box where you’d been sitting. “You know,” Reshi all but purred, “I think it’s very impressive that you volunteered to go and help your people. Acts like that amongst orcs are… highly thought of.”
“Really?” you smiled. “I mean…”
“You have the heart of an orc,” he laughed, and brought his rough hand to your chin, tilting it up. “And I’d very much like to kiss you…”
“Oh…” you breathed. “Sure… I’d… I’d like -” he cut you off with a kiss, his huge tusks nudging against your cheeks. His lips were surprisingly soft, the gesture gentle at first, but he deepened it and you felt the arousal spike in both of you.
His big hands moved over your body and he began to undress you slowly, never once breaking the kiss. Pliant and utterly willing, you let him, barely able to catch your breath. Naked and lying across his lap, you revelled in the way your skin tingled, your heart hammered, and your blood sang in your ears. His fingertips slid between your thighs and he nudged them apart with his knuckles. Carefully, respectfully, he dragged one fingertip slowly over your folds and you bucked in his grasp.
“You’re so wet,” he crooned, drawing back in surprise, and you laughed.
You shifted your hand from his chest - which was disappointingly still covered by his long-sleeved underlayer - and pressed your palm against his hard cock which at that moment was digging you in the hip. You weren’t the only one worked up.
He grinned lopsidedly and laid you down on the soft furs before ripping his top off over his head.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” you cursed, staring openly at the expanse of bare chest as he loomed over you. He had a couple of scars, but mostly the canvas of his slate-grey skin was perfect and unmarred. His hard, darker nipples were pierced and you reached for the glinting metal of one of them, tugging gently until he groaned and then growled.
Reshi pounced, parting your legs and pulling you into his lap. He was rough as he moved you about, but always careful you realised somewhere through the haze of your lust.
Kneeling on the floor, he lifted you up and brought his mouth to your heat. With your back lying along his thighs, his hands on the curve of your arse, you writhed and gasped as he laved his dark tongue over your wet folds and groaned again. “You taste so good,” he rumbled between the movements. His fingers tightened almost painfully on your hips and he lifted you a few inches higher, and got to work.
His tongue tasted you, inside and out, circling, nudging, teasing, tasting, until you felt blinding white heat rolling up inside you.
“Reshi!” you gasped, but he was relentless now, devouring you hungrily, reverently; on his knees and worshipping your body; lost in the sounds you made for him. “Reshi!” you yelled, fingers grasping at nothing, and came hard against the pressure of his tongue. Your body shook and convulsed, but he did not release you until you fell back, limp and gasping.
Barely able to crack an eye open, you lay there as he set your body - still sporadically twitching in the aftermath of your blinding orgasm - down again, and fumbled to undo the laces at the top of his leggings. His hand tightened around his impressive cock, almost painfully hard and weeping, but you shook your head and hissed, “I want you…”
He raised an eyebrow. “You sure?” His tone was only that of concern, not arrogance. He was big though.
Your eyes sank back down to his cock and you grinned. “I’m sure.”
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2K notes · View notes
fairy-writes · 5 months ago
Note
I LOVE THAT LAST ONE AAAAAAAAAA
okay so, another request:
pair: November 11 x Reader, of course. Dadvember dabbling, maybe, and a bit of April x November but in a caretaker to July way, not romantic.
time: early season, after November shows in Japan but not SET in Japan.
summary: this time the reader is a contractor. they wound up crossing paths during a mission and were initially on opposite sides, posing themselves as threats to one another in a similar way to November and Hei, but this time the reader winds up catching the eye of Frosty Danger, as he catches theirs, and they wind up in a secret relationship behind closed doors, furious rivals to the rest of the world. Reader doesn’t know how to deal with being attached to someone since it hadn’t happened before they became a contractor, neither does November, but at this point, does it even matter anymore?
Reader’s power: deadly plants that grow out of control and can wrap around targets and choke them, stab them, or poison them. their obeisance: they have to eat food that they absolutely despise but won’t make them sick. it’s just kind of annoying.
- Frosty anon
FORGOTTEN NAMES
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Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!
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Fandom(s): Darker than Black
Pairing(s): November 11 x Reader
Word Count: 2k
Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Contractor!Reader, Reader is described as smaller than November 11
Notes: I tried to limit the use of “November 11,” mainly because we don’t know his actual name. I thought it was a fun challenge :)
I also adore Lovesick November 11
THIS ALSO TOOK ON A LIFE OF ITS OWN 
I'M SO SORRY IF THIS ISN'T WHAT YOU WANTED
__________________________________________________________________________
November 11 didn’t remember his name. His true name. The one he was born with. Not anymore, anyway. Sometimes, he liked to pretend that Jack Simon was his real name. But he knew he was just lying to himself. 
Just like he lied to everyone else. 
Everyone except you. 
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The body before him was bloated and swollen. Rashes covered every exposed inch of the body, and November 11 suspected it was also under the clothing. It would make sense, wouldn’t it?
You always were thorough with your work. 
He stood and pulled off his sunglasses, turning to look at the detective, who was also inspecting the corpse. 
“What do you think?” The detective asked and he shrugged, adjusting his suit coat before speaking. 
“Looks like poison ivy. Or poison oak. Or whatever the third one was, I can never remember. Perhaps the victim had a severe allergic reaction?”
The detective stood and huffed, pulling off her gloves as she did so. 
“That’s what it looks like. There is only one issue: those plants aren’t native around here. So unless someone is carrying around some poisonous plants, I’d say we have a Contractor on our hands.” She said, and he just hummed to show that he was listening. 
Pulling out his phone and walking the opposite way, he dialed your number. 
You picked up on the third ring. 
“Hello?” Your tone instantly made a smile tug on the corners of his mouth. 
“Were you around 12th Street this morning, say around three o’clock in the morning?” He asked, hearing you hum a song. He also heard the crinkle of paper and the rustle of something.
You must’ve been in the kitchen. 
“I suppose I might’ve been. Why?” You say cryptically, and he laughs under his breath. 
“Just curious.” He said and heard you bark out a laugh.
“That’s a lie. Did you find my little present yet?” At that, he halted and spun on his heel, swiftly approaching the body. He knelt where it was propped up against the wall and pulled on a pair of nitrile gloves, cradling his phone in the crook of his shoulder. With gloved fingers, he rifled through the suit jacket and pockets. 
Only to find a flower. You always did like your flowers. 
It was a buttercup, if he remembered right. That was one thing he always picked up around you: your knowledge of flowers. 
“So, did you find it?” You chirp over the phone, and he hummed and hawed for a moment, letting you stew in your impatience. Only when you complain does he answer you, twirling the flower between his fingers. 
“Of course, I found it, love. Might I ask what it means?”
“Get over here, and I’ll tell you.” You say softly into the receiver, and he chuckles,
“Give me ten minutes, darling.”
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When he arrived, approximately nine minutes and thirty-two seconds later, Bloomscape Flowers was closed. But he took the key from under the mat and unlocked it, stepping inside as he pocketed it. He walked past rows of flowers of all kinds. Chrysanthemums, pansies, roses—they were all here and carefully cultivated and blooming under your keen eye. 
All the way in the back, past the counter, there’s a door leading upstairs above the shop. Opening it, he catches a whiff of freshly baked bread and whatever you were making for dinner. It smelled delicious, but he knew better. He knew you would hate it.
You notice he walks in the second the door opens.
“Welcome home!” You call from the kitchen, and he immediately feels like a weight has been taken off his shoulders. Loosening his tie and hanging his suit coat in your coat closet, he toes off his shoes and follows your voice into the kitchen. 
“I’m home.” He said a bit belatedly, and you looked up at him with a beaming grin. 
“I noticed.” You teased, and his mouth quirked up into a small smile.
You step close, tugging off your oven mitts, and his arms go around your waist. You reach up to tug on his tie to tug him down to your lips, meeting in a sweet kiss that makes him forget everything that’s been weighing on his mind. 
The case he’s been forced to work on.
The fact that he already knows who committed the crime. 
And the fact that he has to disobey orders just to keep you safe. 
You taste like your strawberry chapstick, and as your lips move against his, he finds himself crowding you back against the counter so he can kiss you properly. He breaks away to press kisses to the underside of your jaw and feels more than hear you giggle as he reaches the ticklish spot just under your ear. 
“No marks, Nov.” You say, and he huffs indignantly.
“You’re no fun.” He goes to kiss you again, but then the oven beeps, so you put a finger to his lips to stop him in his tracks. He scowls at the stove as you go to open the kitchen appliance, seriously considering icing it over. 
But that would just make you mad, so he refrained. 
It isn’t long before dinner is served, and he digs into it with gusto. He loved your cooking. 
You, however, take your time. With every bite, you plug your nose and immediately chase it with water—your obeisance. Being forced to eat foods you despised was almost as bad as smoking. At least you weren’t going to die early because of it. 
Dinner is wrapped up quickly, mostly because you can’t stand eating for long when you have your price to pay. He washes while you dry and put away, so it takes little more than fifteen minutes to clean up your mess. Then, the two of you share the wicker loveseat out on your balcony. You have your legs thrown over his lap and lean your head against his shoulder. In return, his arm is draped across your shoulders as he looks out on the city. With his free hand, he pulls the crumpled flower out of his shirt pocket and studies it. 
“It means ‘You are radiant with charm.’” You murmur, and he looks down to see you already looking up at him,
“Pardon?” You jerk your head toward the flower in his hand. 
“The buttercup. It means you are a charming man. I thought it fitting.” You say, and he exhales a laugh, tucking the flower into your hair. 
“You are a thousand times more charming than I, my love.”
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The scent of cigarette smoke was thick in the air as November 11 exhaled a cloud of smoke with a deep cough.
The body before him was frozen and crumbling due to his Contract. And because he used his Contract to freeze that idiot solid, he had to pay the price.
A tug on his free hand, he looked down to see July, staring blankly into the distance. July’s other hand is pressed flat against the glass of a window display. 
“They’re there.” The doll mumbled, and he tensed. 
Who was here? 
Only for you to step out of the shadows.
Despite you wearing a porcelain mask to obscure your features, he knew it was you. Knew it was you by the way you walked, the way you sprinkled seeds along the ground, and the way you paused for a split second in your step when you spotted him. Your eyes met his, and he only had the time to shake his head once before things went to shit. 
The detective who had inspected the body covered in rashes the day he found the buttercup pulled her gun and pointed it at you. 
“Stop right there!” She bellowed, and you cocked your head to the side, studying her through the glassy eyes of your mask. He could see the gears turning in your mind before you began to glow blue, the mask’s blank eyes doing nothing to hide the crimson glow of your pupils. 
The concrete cracked and splintered beneath their feet as two massive plants erupted from the ground. They looked almost like Venus flytraps if Venus flytraps got to be eight feet tall. One of them swooped down and scooped up the remains of the person he had just killed, swallowing the pieces whole before lurching forward in an attempt to eat him, July, and the detective. 
Well… Maybe not him or July, but it was certainly eyeing the detective with a hungry gaze—as hungry as a thing could look without eyes, anyway. 
As he started to move July behind his back, they were suddenly soaked in a torrent of rain. His suit was soaked, his hair dripping wet, his cigarette extinguished, and he could feel his socks squelch in his shoes. July looked up at the sky blankly and then to the side where April was waving a hand, surrounded by the same blue glow as you. He activated his own Contract and froze the ground surrounding one of your plants, freezing it over and shattering it. 
He could apologize to you later. 
Meanwhile, you ducked under a bullet from the detective and skipped backward to let your remaining carnivorous plant take over. It lunged and snapped but to no avail. 
You would have to get clever if you wanted to kill the detective. 
But there wasn’t anything November 11 could do to help you unless he wanted to give away his position as your lover. And that would definitely get you (and probably him) killed. 
It wasn’t long before you got your chance. 
You reached into your pocket, throwing a handful of what looked like dirt at the detective. She sputtered and spat out what he realized were seeds.
But it was too late. 
Vines took root in the concrete around her and wrapped her up like a Christmas present. But that wasn’t what made his stomach turn. That was the fact that she must’ve swallowed one or two. Because vines erupted from her belly and throat, spattering the ground with blood and innards. Your remaining carnivorous plant gobbled up her body, leaving no trace but the blood and guts on the ground. 
And even that was washed away by April’s rain. 
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He pushed the door open to your apartment and heard you gagging. 
You must’ve been paying your price already. 
He shed his coat and shoes before following the sound of your despair to the master bathroom, where you were hunched over the toilet. You retched but didn’t actually get sick, a plate of food on your bedside table showing what you had been eating. He leaned on the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. 
“I’m home.” He said, and you waved half-heartedly from your spot at the toilet. 
Eventually, you stood and flushed, shuddering as you rid yourself of the horrid smell that was the food you despised. He leaned down to kiss you, but you recoiled with a disgusted look scrunching your nose. 
“You’ve been smoking again.” You said, and he huffed. 
“I had to pay my price, my love.” He said, and you still scrunched up your nose. 
“I’m not kissing you until you change and brush your teeth.”
So, there he stood, scrubbing his teeth with his toothbrush as you did the same, getting the taste of smoke and food out of your mouths. He rinsed and gargled with mouthwash before taking a shower. The towel hung around his neck as he rubbed the fabric over his hair to dry the blond strands. You look up from your book as he comes out, towel around his waist and little else on. He catches you staring as he changes into the nightshirt and pants you had laid out for him. 
“Like what you see?” He teases, and you roll your eyes, returning to your book.
“I always do.” You tease him right back, and he just laughs. 
Approaching your side, he leans down and finally kisses you. You carefully mark your place in your book before eagerly returning the kiss. 
Finally. 
2 notes · View notes
fairy-writes · 1 year ago
Text
Darker than Black Oneshot Masterlist
Last Updated: 06/26/2024
*All oneshots are gender neutral reader unless specifically stated otherwise!*
Hei
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To Catch the Heart of a Star: Hei x Female!Civilian!Reader
Pure and Simple: Hei x Civilian!Reader
November 11
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Knitted with Secrecy: November 11 x Female!Civilian!Reader
Forgotten Names: November 11: Contractor!Reader
6 notes · View notes
fairy-writes · 1 year ago
Note
Hey! Just saw your post about sending you darker than black requests! Glad there's still some other fans out there! 😀
Could you write something with an hei x afab! Civilian! Reader? But honestly I'll take anything at this point. There's so little darker than black content these days!
TO CATCH THE HEART OF A STAR
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Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!
__________________________________________________________________________
Fandom(s): Darker than Black
Pairing(s): Hei/Li Shengshun x Reader
Word Count: 3.1k
Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Civilian!Reader, Reader is described as shorter than Hei
Notes: I am trying so hard not to vibrate out of my seat in excitement.
I LOVE HEI OKAY
(Not as much as November 11… but Hei’s… my second choice.)
__________________________________________________________________________
Meeting Li Shengshun was a total accident, really.
You first meet him in the park in the middle of the night. The streetlights do little to illuminate the pitch-black space, so you don’t see the telescope until it’s right in front of your face. 
You yelp, stumble backward, and fall over onto your rear. Even in your haste, you make sure not to damage the undoubtedly very expensive scientific instrument. 
“Are you okay?” Comes a voice, and you swallow a scream of surprise. 
Turning around—still on the ground, mind you, you come face to face with a young man, maybe your age, with dark hair and a concerned look coloring his features. 
He’s handsome. Maybe a bit plain, but something about him has your heart fluttering. 
Abruptly, you realize he’s still staring, having extended a hand to help you up. You take it hastily,
“Uh… yeah! Yeah, I’m fine! Sorry for almost knocking over your telescope!” You quickly bite your tongue to keep from rambling. He pulls you to your feet easily, an apologetic smile on his face.
“It’s alright. I should have said something when I noticed you.” He says, and you huff out a laugh. It’s high and reedy, filled with nervousness, and you’re mentally kicking yourself. 
“I really should have been watching where I was going.” You retort almost playfully.
The conversation dies down before you brush off the seat of your work trousers and jab a thumb in the direction you were initially heading. 
“I really got to head home. Gotta feed my cat and all. It was nice meeting you…” He jolts as if not expecting you to speak. He’s speechless for a few moments before shaking your outstretched hand,
“Li Shengshun.” He says simply, and you grin, offering your own name in return. 
The two of you part ways, and you honestly don’t expect to see him again.
Until… you do.
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You meet Li next at a work function. 
Some fancy-schmancy gala that you really didn’t want to go to. But hey, you were being paid to schmooze with rich folks, so you really couldn’t complain. Not when your job was on the line. 
So there you are, dressed to the nines in a smart-looking black dress and heels, nursing a glass of wine and laughing at some joke that wasn’t all that funny, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. 
And you turn to see Li Shengshun looking sheepish and uncomfortable. 
“Li? What are you doing here?” You hiss, and he offers a crooked smile. 
“Working, how about you?” He replies, and you sneak away from the group to follow the young man. 
You really hope he isn’t about to murder you or something.
No… he seems too sweet for that.
“It’s a work function. I have to be here.” You groan, and he lets out a quiet laugh. You glare and swat at him with an indignant “Don’t laugh at me!” He ducks under your sorry attempt at a hit with ease. The two of you make it to the hallway, and the noise from the gala dies down as the doors swing shut.
You lean against the wall and sigh, head thumping against it with your eyes closed. Your heels make your feet ache, and the wine makes your head spin slightly. 
Your friends had always said you were a bit of a lightweight.
“You okay?” Li asks, and you open your eyes to look at him. He has that same look of concern as when you first met. You shrug,
“I’m feeling absolutely smashing.” You say, and your words slur a bit. 
As you begin to sway, he holds you upright. And when you say you feel like you are about to throw up, he gets you to the restroom and makes sure you don’t vomit on your clothes or on the floor.
Perhaps you were more drunk than you thought. 
Hopefully, your boss doesn’t see you like this.
“Thank you, Li.” You mumble once he gets you situated in a taxi that is going to take you home. You have the window rolled down and are leaning out to say goodbye to the young man. 
But… instead of brushing you off… he offers that slightly crooked smile and shakes his head,
“It’s not a problem. Get home safe, yeah?” He says, and you nod, waving as the taxi pulls out into traffic.
“That was nice of your boyfriend.” The cabby comments, and you hide a surprised noise with a forced cough. 
“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend. He’s… just a friend.” You say, and the driver just laughs.
Could you call him a friend?
Surely, he thought of you as a nuisance. You took him away from his job and nearly broke his telescope. Undoubtedly, he thought you were annoying.
Right? 
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You begin to see Li everywhere after that. 
Well… maybe not everywhere, but you see him around more often than you don’t now.
It’s a bit odd at first. But you discover later that it’s because Li lives in the area and does odd jobs at all hours. 
“So, what do you do for a living?” He asks one day as you are walking home from work. He had taken to walking with you when he gets home around the same time, seeing as you both usually got off the bus at the same stop. 
“Me? Oh… well… I’m a secretary for a businessman. Coordinate meetings and all that.” You explain sheepishly. Li takes it in stride, nodding once as he takes in the information. 
“So, do you work in like a big business?” He asks, and you shrug, 
“I guess? I mean, my boss does business with PANDORA and their resea—I wasn’t supposed to say that.” You cut yourself off once you realize you almost spilled some very important secrets to a civilian. 
And, of course, Li had to pick up on it. 
You’re discovering he’s much more perceptive than he lets on. 
He looks at you out of the corner of his eye in interest,
“PANDORA? That’s the people who research Hell’s Gate, right?” He says, and you nod grumpily. You were usually better at keeping secrets than this! But something about Li made you want to spill everything.
He seemed so… trustworthy.
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“I didn’t know you had a cat!” You exclaim, startling Li from a conversation with an older man. They are sat on a bench in a park, having what seems to be a very serious conversation when you spot them. 
Li looks surprised before that same goofy smile crosses his face, and he raises a hand in a brief “hello.”
“He isn’t mine. He’s more of a stray that follows me around.” He explains as you jog over and crouch in front of the black cat with a red collar lounging in the sun. It studies you with narrowed eyes, and its tail flicks when you offer your hand, palm down and fingers extended. 
“Hey, kitty kitty.” You coo as he sniffs your fingers, and you scratch under his chin. 
Seemingly against the cat’s will, he begins to purr. 
It’s apparently against his will because his eyes shoot open—wide with surprise—as you gently move your fingers to scratch under his collar.
He is awfully emotive for a cat.
Almost like a human in a cat’s body.
Wouldn’t that be funny?
“He’s very well taken care of for a stray. What do you call him?” You comment, taking in his glossy fur and the slightest chub in his belly. Li just gives a rather noncommittal hum in response,
“I call him Mao.”
The older man stands, fishing cigarette from his coat pocket (who wears a coat in this weather?), and moves to leave.
“Oh, sorry! I didn’t see you there!” You scramble to your feet and bow in greeting. The man looks like a deer caught in the headlights but nods his head anyway.
“Nice t’ meet ya.” He says gruffly and offers a calloused hand for you to shake. You do so and introduce yourself. 
“This is my… uncle…. Huang.” Li says hesitantly as he gets up from his seat on the bench. You grin at “Huang” and wave as he leaves you two alone with Mao. 
“How’s work going?” He asks as you begin to pet Mao, who has dozed back off to sleep in the warm sunlight. You shrug at his question,
“They’re beginning tests on their next big project. Something about Saturn and a ring? I don’t really know. They don’t tell me much outside of asking to schedule more meetings with PANDORA.” You reply, and your shoulder brushes Li’s as he watches a family pass by the park. 
You really shouldn’t be telling Li any of this.
But you can’t bring yourself to care.
What they don’t know won’t hurt them, right?
You’re broken from your inner dialogue by Li abruptly standing and offering a hand.
“I’m starving. Let’s go get something to eat, yeah? My treat.” He says with that same warm smile that sends your heart into a tizzy
And then you have a revelation. 
This wouldn’t be love, would it?
Your little outing turns into two. Then four. And before you know it, you’re regularly going out on your days off.
Were these dates?
You didn't have much experience dating. The last person you dated seriously was back in your first year of high school. The star of the basketball team. And that turned out fabulous, with you discovering he had slept around with several members of the volleyball team. 
So it was safe to say you were hesitant to call these little excursions “dates” or even put a label on your relationship past “friends.” But… part of you wanted to do these things with Li. You wanted to hold hands. You wanted to go star gazing. 
You wanted to do cute couple-y things! Was that too much to ask?!
That first step in that direction was really an accident, just like your first meeting. 
The months had passed, and soon, it was Halloween. 
In an attempt to throw a “team-building exercise,” your boss had paid for employees and a plus one to attend a haunted house. It was a rather stupid idea if you had to admit, but you snagged two tickets anyway and invited Li to tag along with you.
Which, in hindsight, was not the best idea. 
He was as skittish as a rabbit and jumped at every jumpscare or scream from the people in front of or behind you. Granted, you did too, with the occasional scream escaping your lungs.
After one particular jumpscare, you realized you were holding Li’s hand. He had surprisingly strong and rough hands, calloused from a long time of handling tools and whatever else he did for work. 
When you went to let go, he surprised you by squeezing tighter. He offered an uncomfortable smile,
“Sorry, I can let go if you want—” He started, but you gripped his hand in yours, and your other one wrapped around his arm,
“It’s fine!” You sputter, and the two of you finally make it out of the haunted house with one last shriek on your part. 
He doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time you walk home. 
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After the haunted house, you find yourself toeing the line of “more than friends” more and more. And you noticed that Li didn’t seem to mind whatsoever.
He walked you home from work. He held your hand. He even showed up to your work at one point on Valentine’s Day with flowers. (your coworkers still have yet to let you forget that fact.)
You would’ve returned the gesture on White Day but realized you still didn’t know where Li worked. So you walked the thirty minutes to his apartment and gave him a bouquet of flowers.
It was the only time you ever saw him blush. From his neck to the tips of his ears.
Li invited you inside his apartment and cooked you dinner despite your attempts at politely declining. He promptly shut you up with a kiss on the cheek. Your brain stalled, and by the time you comprehended what he had done, he had already pulled away with a smug smile on his face.
“Cute.” Was all he said.
Now, it was your turn to be embarrassed.
You sputtered and gaped while he gently ushered you to sit against the wall while he finished making supper. You were still in shock even as he handed you a plate with a delicious meal that you eagerly dug into. 
It was perfect, as always.
Things progressed even more after dinner.
Li had protested, but you had wormed your way under his arm and took over cleaning all the dishes from the meal prep and supper itself. You nudged him out of the way with your foot and elbow and even threatened to smear soap on his face.
He had simply rolled his eyes goodnaturedly,
“I’d like to see you try.” He said.
So you did.
It only ended up with him caging you against the sink with your hands pinned to the counter and Li looming over you. You blinked in surprise and looked up at the young man. He had a look in his eyes that had your heart thundering in your ears.
And—before you could even process what you were about to do—you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips.
He stiffened in shock, and by then, you realized what you had done. You pulled away frantically and started babbling apologies. You tried to move away, to duck under his arm, but his grip tightened, and he was kissing you in earnest.
What?
This was not what friends did.
But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care nor complain.
So you let your eyelids flutter shut, and you pressed back.
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You awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of your front door opening.
Jolting upright, you reached beside your bed, where you kept your baseball bat. 
Should you call someone?
The police?
Would they even get here in time?
You dove into the closet and shut the door as quietly as possible, just as the door to your bedroom opened, and someone stepped inside. Through a crack in the door jam, you could see the person.
Taller than you, black hair, a white mask, and a long black coat.
The mysterious man stared for a blank moment at your rumpled futon before shaking his head and tearing apart your room. 
Almost quite literally.
Your dresser drawers were pulled out and dumped. Your desk was almost overturned, with all its drawers also being pulled out. Papers were rifled through. 
And it was then that you realized what this man was looking for.
 Your planner.
You kept the thing under your pillow specifically in case of something like this.
“Hei! You find it yet?!” A familiar voice, and Huang, of all people, enters the room, looking rather miffed at something. The man in the mask shakes his head silently, and they both freeze when you accidentally knock your baseball bat against the wall. You curse and scoot backward just as the door is flung open, and you are dragged out by a rough hand.
“I thought you said she’d be outta town!” Huang shouts at the masked man, and you realize something else.
You know that hair.
And only one other person knows the code to your front door or even has a key to get in if the code doesn’t work.
You start to struggle against Huang’s grip,
“Li!” You shriek, and both men freeze.
“She knows you like this?!” Huang demands, and “Hei” shakes his head,
“She doesn’t.” Is all he says, his voice not at all like how it usually was. He didn’t sound happy. He sounded… sad? Monotone? You weren’t even sure what word to describe what you yourself were feeling, much less what the man in front of you.
But you didn’t have much time to think about anything. Huang hauled you upright and shoved your body at the masked man. 
Did you call him Hei? 
Or was he Li? Your boyfriend of six months. The man who kissed you goodbye when he walked you home. The man who always asked about your work and how you were doing?
It was then that you figured out what word you could use to describe yourself.
You felt betrayed. 
You stumbled into Hei’s chest and immediately backpedaled, shoving his arms away when he reached to hold your hands.
“Stay away from me!” You cry, tears welling up, and you stand between him and Huang, tears stinging your eyes.
“You used me!” You accuse the man in front of you with such venom he takes a step back. He holds his hands out, saying your name in a pleading tone. You plug your fingers in your ears, feeling a bit childish, but you don’t want to hear his excuses.
He had used you. 
Used you to get at your boss and get into your work. Sure, you were a secretary, but a secretary at a very important business who worked with PANDORA on Hell’s Gate.
All of a sudden, you feel something cover your mouth and nose. You panic. Hei panics, but you hear Huang speak as you sink into unconsciousness.
“We have to wipe her mind.”
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The sun is setting as you step off the bus and begin your trek home.
Work had been exceedingly stressful. The project your boss was in charge of was getting closer to the deadline, and it still wasn’t done. You had stepped up and helped with paperwork, but you were just a secretary, so what could you do?
You run face-first into someone solid and go tumbling to the ground.
“Are you okay?! Sorry, I wasn’t—” You look up to see a young man. He’s handsome. Maybe a bit plain, but something about him has your heart fluttering. But his face looks so utterly heartbroken and torn as you frown up at him.
“Uh… It’s fine. No big deal.” You say as he helps you up and quickly brushes past you, shoving his hands in his pockets and ducking his head without another word. 
You watch after the man with black hair and broken eyes, and only one thought sticks out in your mind.
“I’ve never seen him before… so… why does my heart cry at the look on his face?”
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fairy-writes · 1 year ago
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Top 5 favorite characters
Top 5 fanfiction titles (yours or others) that hint at the plot
👀
top 5 fav characters (i’m limiting myself to anime or i’ll be here forever)
alphonse elric from fmab
uta from tokyo ghoul
chuuya nakahara from bsd
november 11 from darker than black
viktor from arcane (not technically an anime but we’re rolling with it)
top 5 fanfic titles (again i’m limiting myself, this time to my own fanfics)
necessary evil: an nbc grimm story where the main character hana is a “necessary evil” by providing those who eat humans with human flesh (as ethically as possible of course)
the lonely man: a viktor x reader fic where viktor is a vampire and everything is set in the 18th century! the title alludes to how lonely viktor has become in his mansion and how reader slowly melts his walls until things happen :) i can’t say too much because that part hasn’t been published yet!
love story: a rengoku x reader oneshot and if you know the song by taylor swift, you already know where this is going
I KNOW IT SAID FIVE BUT I CANT THINK OF ANY MORE
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