#listen. its gotta be a perfect little bowl right there. he suggested this he finds it funny | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pinkmirth · 4 years ago

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𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸!𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗯𝗻𝗵𝗮 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝘀 𝗵𝗰𝘀: 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗲𝘁

[𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝘀]- 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲𝘀: 𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼𝘂, 𝗸𝗶𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗺𝗮, 𝗺𝗶𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘆𝗮, 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗼, 𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗼𝗸𝗶, 𝗸𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗿𝗶, 𝘁𝗮𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗶, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗮𝘄𝗸𝘀

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𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲:

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𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼𝘂 𝗸𝗮𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗸𝗶;

•he was getting some spicy food at a street market one day after school. •you then went up to him randomly, asking what would be a good food to get since you were new to japan. •his face practically reddened at the sight of you, but he merely clicked his teeth, saying that he couldn't help you because his taste is extremely spicy. •you responded with a laugh, saying that you were more than capable to handle spice. •you both ended up eating and chatting together as you ate. •well, you did most of the talking as he nodded and grunted in response half of the time.. •nonetheless, you found his company very enlightening, so you asked for his number successfully.

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"excuse me?" a strangely accented voice called out to bakugou, the boy turning in the direction of the voice. "hah?" he called out as he looked down at you, instantly deeming you as american, hence the accent and your uniquely fascinating look. "is there any food that you can recommend to me? im new here.." you told him sheepishly as you flashed a small smile, the boy's face heating up dangerously. you then started to hear small fizzling noises, your attention drawn to his hands, which were letting out small explosions. "you good?" you asked in a concerned tone. "i thought that you wanted food, the fuck are you worried about me for?" he replied snappily, making you blink your eyes at him. "damn.." you muttered under your breath, though you didn't take it personal. "listen, your tongue is gonna burn the fuck off if i pick out food for you, woman." he laughed in a mocking manner. "boy," you scoffed, "i can handle more than a bit of damn seasoning..!" you chuckled, looking up at him with those dark glistening eyes of yours. he then ordered two small bowls of spicy curry for the both of you and told you to sit your ass down at the nearest outdoor table, to which you only laughed at him. "you didn't have to pay for it, yknow.." you told him, taking a spoonful of food nonetheless. "just think of it as hospitality.. or a welcoming gift or some shit. you're new here anyway.." he grumbled, taking a bite out of his own food. "what's your name?" you asked him, "don't worry about my name," he scoffed, "when i become the number one hero, everybody's gonna know my fucking name!" he said triumphantly, a cocky smirk on his face. "is that so..?" you asked him with a grin, "that's only if i don't become the number one hero..! you gon have to watch out for me, cause i'm your new competition!" you laughed, making his eye twitch. "is that a fucking challenge?" he spoke, "maybe." you replied, taking another bite of your food. he couldn't lie, it impressed him how you were taking full blown spoonfuls and not complaining about any spice, the drink he bought you staying untouched. "ay," you called out, "your face is red! i thought that you was the one tellin' me bout spice!" you snickered. "it's not the fucking spice that's making me blush!" he retorted, his face getting redder as he watched you let out a series of giggles. before long, the food was finished and he was ready to leave the table without even saying goodbye. "aht aht, where you goin to?" you asked him as you stood up with him. "home, the fuck? its not like ive got the time to talk to a stranger all damn day!" he said in defense. "well, you've at least gotta tell me your name!" you whined, "fine, shut up, puffball!" he said as you gasped. "really? puffball?" you gasped sarcastically, a hand at your heart. "you wanna know my name or not?" he snapped, "yes, of course!" you exclaimed, "s'bakugou. don't fucking forget it." he said, watching you nod as you took in the name. "—can i get your number too, bakugou?" you asked as he groaned. "fucking fine.." he grunted, "you got a pen?" he asked, taking a hold of your arm. "i can just get out my phone, the fuck you tryna write on my skin for?!" you said as he chuckled, "its more memorable that way, duh, puffball. you should be damn grateful to be the first to get an autograph from the one and only lord explosion murder." he said, taking the pen you handed him as he wrote his digits on your forearm, the gentle, warm but firm grip he had on your wrist making you unknowingly grin. "now you've gotta do the same. your name and number, puffball." he said, cocking his brow as you started to laugh. "eh, ill tell you allat when I feel like it. see ya, bakugou." you said, disappearing into the crowd of the bustling street market before he could make any snarky remark, a small smirk on his face that even surprised him, he was sure that the feeling that made his ears buzz and heat up was merely irritation. "she's such a damn tease..!" he couldn't even recall when he became intrigued.

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𝗸𝗶𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗺𝗮 𝗲𝗶𝗷𝗶𝗿𝗼𝘂;

•he "met" you via call. •him, kaminari, and sero were pulling an all nighter together in his room, just hanging out on the bed. •like the immature teenage boys they are, they decided to play 'dare or dare' at two in the morning. •kirishima had been dared to call his number neighbor, which he was hesitant of, despite doing the dare anyway. •the phone rang as he placed it on the bed, the goofy trio looking at it in anticipation, expecting some old geezer to pick up the phone. •boy, were they wrong.

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"cmon, bro! i did the dare you gave me, so you've gotta do the same!" kaminari urged, making kirishima sigh. "it wasn't even that extreme of a dare! you just had to let sero smack you!" the redhead protested, "and that shit was fun, too. id do it again, ha!" the raven haired boy laughed out, earning a nudge to the side from the electric blond.

"don't be a pussy, just call and hang up if it makes you feel any better!" kaminari suggested, "fine, ill do it!" kirishima gave in, "don't start feeling disappointed when some 100 year old guy picks up the phone, kami!" he huffed.

eijirou dialed the number on his phone,

xxx-xxx-xxxy, which was only the slightest bit different from his number, which was

xxx-xxx-xxxx.

he then set the phone on the bed and put it on speaker, the boys looking within themselves as they waited for the person on the other side of the line to answer.

"nevermind, fuck this.." kaminari sighed, running a hand through his golden blond locks. the phone then finally picked up, kirishima's ears perking up eagerly.

"ahm.. h-hello?" a smooth, feminine voice called out tiredly, the boys gaping at eachother. "uhm.. hello!" kirishima replied, "who da hell out here callin me at two am?" you asked, making the boys tense up your at your tone.

the redhead started to feel bad for waking you up, the sleepiness apparent in your voice. you then let out a series of melodic chuckles, ones that made kirishima want to hold a hand at his pounding heart.

"who this?" you asked, "kirishima! that's my name, at least! im your number neighbor, ha.." he said, "well, kirishima.." you spoke once more, your captivating accent making him infer that you were black, but that only excited him more, leaving him to wonder how beautiful you truly were, "imma talk to you later. a girl gotta sleep, yknow?" you told him, your voice velvety as the sound waves hit his ears.

"y-yeah, sure!" he complied. "ill save your number though, boo." you told him, the simple nickname making him smile to himself.

"wait, what's your name?" he asked you, "y/n. cute name, right?" you giggled, his heart clenching at the sound.

"how about I meet up with you tomorrow, y/n?" he suggested. "that would be nice, kirishima.." you said into the phone, the eagerness heard in your voice to meet this mystery boy, "you had better not be no random dealer.." you sighed, "no, I don't sell..!!!" he gasped in reply. "perfect." you said, "goodnight, kirishima. ion know what you doin up at two am, but have a blast, boo." that was the last thing you said before ending the call.

"...she sounds like a total fuckin’ babe! you're welcome, kiri!" kaminari said, but the sharky boy was too busy thinking about the call, your voice replaying in his head. apparently, eijirou thought dazedly, voice kinks actually ARE real..

"she was..

damn

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𝗺𝗶𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘆𝗮 𝗶𝘇𝘂𝗸𝘂;

•he met you at some beauty supply store. •you might be wondering; what the hell is deku doing at the damn beauty supply? •see, he was there with mirio to get some stuff for eri so they could do her hair, and he didn't really know what to get. •he saw you in the same isle as him later on and decided to ask what would be good to get for a little girl. •when you turned to him and smiled, he choked on thin air and was astonished with you and your 'melanated' beauty. •despite his nervous stammering, he accomplished in getting your number.

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"eri-chan, do you like this one..?" izuku asked, holding up a light green bow to her pale blue hair. "deku-san.. any color is fine.." the smaller girl replied, her large red eyes staring into his emerald ones. he sighed before flashing her a small smile, putting the bow back up. he wanted to give the girl something that would make her feel pretty, but he didn't know what she would really like.. "do you know anything about hair products and stuff, togata-senpai..?" midoriya asked mirio, whom only shrugged in reply. "i used to have longer hair, but I didn't really use any accessories, yknow!" the blond replied in his normal ecstatic tone. "oh.." deku sighed, "ill just keep looking!" he then walked into another row, glancing at all the hair products for natural hair, the tropical, warm, and sugary smells sending his nose into heaven. his hair was a bit curly himself, so maybe he'd be able to use some of them..? anyway, he continued to look through the products, letting out a huff, since he didn't find anything eye catching that gave him 'eri' vibes. he then saw a flash of chocolate brown in his peripheral vision, along with a good whiff of a smell similar to all those hair products, making him let out a small moan at the scent, which would probably become his new favorite smell. he turned around to see you, a black girl around his age that was dressed stylishly, your curly/coily hair captivating him as he gazed at you, whom was merely crouching down to look at some hair clips and other things that you were interested in. he then got the great idea to ask for your help! "hello? excus—" he called out to you as you jerked your head up, looking at him with a pack of durable hair ties in hand. he hadn't gotten a good look at your face, but now that he had, his breath had hitched on the spot as he felt heat rise to his freckled cheeks. he wanted to say something, but something about your melanated beauty intimidated him. not like he was scared, but he just wanted to make a good impression so bad that he froze up. you started to stand up from your crouching position, your dark brown/[color] eyes watching him curiously. "hi..!" you spoke cooly in your rich, slang-suffused voice. "h-hi!" he replied briskly, his fists clenched in flustered-ness. "i-i wanted t-to ask.." he stammered, giving himself a slap mentally, "if y-you could help m-me pick out some hair accessories! ones that would be good for a little girl..!" he explained, gulping a bit as he finished. your dark eyes only examined him as he spoke, your plump, glossy lips curving up into a smile that made him melt. "sure! why you ain't ask me earlier, boy? actin all cute and nervous.." you chuckled, making midoriya believe you made him fall in love with a stranger at first sight.. after some looking, you found a pair of red bows that you had just assumed would look good on the girl he spoke of, and that they did, the vibrant color matching with eri's big red eyes. she seemed to like them as well, the six year old girl twirling with the ribbons of the bows around her small fingers. "thank you so much! i think she actually likes them..!" izuku said in relief, the small smile on eri's face making him grin as well. "no problem! happy I could help, man." you said, making your way over to the cashier. he wanted to talk to you more.. "psst!" mirio whispered, "go talk to her!" he encouraged, izuku giving off a brisk nod of courage in reply. "h-hey!" he called out to you. "i-i wanted t-to ask you s-something again...!" he said once more, watching you sling the bag of beauty products onto your forearm as you listened to him, his flustered voice being something you found absolutely adorable. "c-can i h-have your.. number..?"

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𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗮; *𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝘀𝗰𝗲𝗻𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗼𝘀 𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗼 :)*

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•you both sat next to eachother on a train ride home. •but before that, you had noticed him at your membership gym where you did your exercise and acrobatics. •you couldn't help but take glances at him •he was well built, toned, tall, and pretty damn flexible, plus he was shirtless, so of course you had to look.. •you were even gazing at him for so long that you lost your balance and stumbled a bit.. •before you could introduce yourself, which you were more than willing to do, the cute but peculiarly elbowed boy had left. •to your delight, you saw him again as you entered the train for your ride home. •he shares his oranges with you >///<

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"dayumm.." you whistled lowly, watching a black haired male from across the gymnasium. his back faced towards you, so you couldn't really see his face. you were doing simple stretches, in a side split at the moment, since you weren't in the mood for doing as much exercise. your eyes followed everywhere he went, taking in all of his motions and the flexing of his back muscles that you could see through his flimsy orange tank top, which he was actually starting to take off to your delight, pulling it over his head. your eyes widened before your lips curved up into a small smirk. "ive been blessed with this view.." you joked. you weren't the kind to be obsessed with boys and their looks or anything, but something about this guy was riveting, especially his elbows.. he then turned around, slowly lowering himself into a side splits position as he let a small huff leave his lips, wincing at the stretching of his inner thigh muscles. "he clearly hasn't done this shit in a while.." you said to yourself, watching him stretch forward as he stayed in his side splits position. he then looked up, his eyes meeting yours momentarily. his cheeks reddened in awe as he saw you, whom was already looking at him. he then flashed a wide smile, one that made you smile back, the contrast of your brown skin and pearly whites making him grin even wider. he seemed to slyly wink at you before getting up, walking over to another area of the gymnasium as you huffed over his departure. or maybe that wink was just your imagination..? "come back, hot guy.." you whined to yourself, getting up as well and making your way over to the nearby aerial skills fabric, only because you wanted to do something impressive that the black haired boy would see from afar. you made your way up the fabric, pulling yourself up with the incredible upper body strength that you had. you set yourself in a comfortable position, also in a position as to where you could see the 'elbows' guy a lot clearer. "it should be illegal to go around lookin that damn good.." you said to yourself, watching him do a simple form of yoga by himself in a calm corner. he then opened his eyes abruptly, digging into the pocket of his sweats to take out his phone, which was going off, probably for an alarm that he had set up. he got up, stretched a little more, and started to grab his belongings. you then scoffed, immediately getting down from the fabrics. there was no way that you'd allow him to leave before you got to know him.. you then started to jog towards him, since he was a ways away from you. he began to rotate his arms a bit, his muscles flexing as he did arm circles, making you stop in your tracks as you watched him. was this his quirk or something, or did every little thing he did leave you addicted? you felt yourself practically leaning in as you watched him pack up his things, his side profile showing off none other than his gleaming smile that he always seemed to have on his cute face. he slipped his orange top back on and made way for the exit, and that's when you finally snapped out of your trance, your ankles giving out as you fell on the ground, due to looking for so long that you had started to lose your balance. "shit, man.." you winced, rubbing at your ankles. by the time you looked up, he was gone. "i know i didn't snap my ankles just so mans could walk away.." you grumbled, getting up and slipping on your tracksuit jacket. you didn't want to do much today anyways, so you we're ready to go home. as you walked to the train station, you payed mind to a small but noticeable limp in your step, a mild pain tingling in your ankle. it wasn't bad, but it wasn't too fun either.. you huffed, making your way onto the train, trying to find yourself a seat and ignore the small awkward looks that people gave you because of your natural appearance that you obviously couldn't change. you only shrugged. im black, so what? the fuck..? you thought, though you weren't one to spark an argument and say it out loud. you were more than used to it anyway, so why give a damn anymore? though, somebody noticed it going on, and they couldn't stand it. "hey," a voice called out to you, "wanna sit with me?" you turned to see the same black haired boy from the gym, smiling sweetly at you as he moved his duffel bag just so you could sit. "...yeah, thanks." you replied cooly, but in the inside, you were freaking out. who knew that he'd be on your train?! "you okay?" he asked you, noticing your slight limp and your aerobic leggings as you chuckled, "whaddya mean specifically? the hating ass looks or my limping?" you said to him, "both." he replied quickly, his soft black bangs swaying as he leaned forward a bit to take a good look at you and your alluring afrocentric features. "um.. are you good? your face is getting all red." you told him, his eyes widening. "i-it is? sorry.." he chuckled in apology, leaning back into his seat with his hands resting at his knees. "...i saw you at the gym earlier, yknow." he told you, "those aerobic skills were pretty damn cool." he told you, the same smile on his face that you were sure you'd never get tired of seeing. "yeah, well i might have to take a break from them for a hot minute..." you sighed, regarding your ankle. "hey, you want an orange?" he asked abruptly as you blinked at him. "boy, did you just ask me if i wanted an orange?" you queried at his random suggestion. "yeah, ive got a few in here! they're my favorites~" he said with a large grin, "they always help me feel better. well, it might not help with physical pain, but—" he started, "nah, it's all good, i get it whatchu mean." you chuckled, taking the fruit that he handed to you. of course, it wasn't the best to take things from strangers, but there was something about him and his flashy smile that made you trust him. you both ate the fruit in silence, the only thing heard being the minimal chatter of other passengers and small rattling sounds of the rails. as you sat next to him, the warmth of his body radiating onto yours as your shoulders touched, it felt as though it was only you and him.. his phone then started to ring as he took it out of his pocket, giving you a look of apology for the abrupt noise. "s'my mom.." he chuckled before answering the call. "hola mamá!" he said into the phone, clearly speaking another foreign language, "qué pasa? oh, lo que estoy haciendo?" she had asked him what he was doing, but of course, you didn't understand the language he spoke, so you merely sat there, listening to the smoothness of his deep voice as he spoke into the phone. "uh.. bueno esta chica, ella está sentada mi lado.." he spoke lower, though you didn't know why, "una linda chica negra.." little did you know that he was gushing over you to his mom, "n-no, mom! no mi novia!" he cried out, only making you assume that his mother had said something embarrassing to him, "uhh.. talk to you later, ma.." he said, briskly ending the call with a huff. "what were you even saying?" you asked with a giggle as he tensed up, not wullling to explain to you about how he told his mom that he was sitting next to a cute black girl... "w-we were talking about oranges..!" he said on the spot as you tilted your head. "really..?" you asked, since he seemed more than unsure of his answer. "uhm.. yeah," he said, "we were talking about how we'll need to grow more because..." he trailed off, then got an idea, looking at you as his warm grin widened, "because i have a new friend to share them with!"

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𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗼𝗸𝗶 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗼;

•winter time! ⁂ •you were at the grocery store, just getting the mandatory food items. •after getting all the stuff you needed, you decided to get your favorite comfort food; •soba. preferably hot. •just as you went to grab for some, you saw a bigger, more muscular hand reach for the same pack of buckwheat noodles. •as your hands rubbed, you let out a hiss, because their hand was mad cold. •you looked up to see a tall charming boy around your age, the two sides of his face looking extremely different. •you stared at him for a while before he called out to you, seeming to be the fifth time since you were too busy looking at his face.. •who ends up getting the soba?

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you rolled your cart to another side of the grocery store, letting out a sigh of relief that you had finished most of your shopping. you then saw a bit of cool smog leaving your mouth, making you roll your eyes in bafflement. it was winter time and you were decked up, wearing a knee-long bubble coat, uggs and a scarf, so the fact that this grocery store had the audacity to put air conditioning on at such a cold period in time made you want to cuss them out. "it's even colder in here than it is outside, dammit.." you muttered, rolling your cart around some more until you got to where you wanted; the rice and noodles section. you were itching to get some hot soba, especially with the sauce that you'd always eat it with. your mouth curved up into a smile, thinking about eating the bowl of noodles as you watched anime by the time you got home. you put your cart aside in a place where it wouldn't be bothersome, and reached your hand out for the food. just as you did, a pale and muscular hand reached out for the same item, making you immediately withdrawal your hand because of the sub-zero temperature of his skin.. "sorry." the person said in a deep, calm tone. you then looked up to see a tall teenage boy dressed in a cream colored turtleneck and black pants, his face seemingly crafted by angels.. the two sides of his face were complete opposites, making you even more drawn to him as you stared. "hello?" he called out for what seemed like the fifth time, snapping you out of your thoughts. "hm? oh, sorry!" you apologized, "you can have it if you want." he said, ready to walk out of the aisle as you panicked a bit. "no, you can have it! go ahead!" you said to him as he turned back around. "it seems that you were anticipating to get that, so it's okay." he said, blinking his eyes a bit. he merely stood there for a bit, thinking as he looked at the ground. "how about i buy it for you?" he offered, making your eyes widen. "no need to do that, it's aight!" you told him. "it's not a problem to me. i have my father's credit card, so im more than willing to splurge. besides, it's the holiday season, so i should do something nice for another, shouldn't i?" he explained in question, taking the soba and handing it to you with a small smile, one that made your heart pound within your chest. "ah.. thank yo— ack!" you whimpered as his hand touched yours, now being extremely hot this time. "sorry, it's my quirk.." he told you. "you good.." you shrugged it off, "i guess that's why you're only wearing a turtleneck in this freezing store?" you asked him with a chuckle as he nodded. "oh, the soba fell.." he said in realization, the both of you bending down to pick it up at the same time, resulting in you two bumping your foreheads together. you stumbled back a little bit until he caught you, the coolness of his breath slightly hitting your face, the small gap between your faces making your ears heat up and his face flush red. "..i-i keep messing up, im sorry.." he said once more in a more sheepish tone, helping you upright. "it's fine, no need to keep apologizing." you told him. "you still want that soba?" he asked you as you nodded. "let's go to the cashier if you're ready." he told you as you nodded, still feeling so touched that he was willing to pay, no matter how many times you told him that it was okay. "y/n." you said out of the blue. "hm?" he hummed in response. "im y/n. since you insist on buying stuff for me, you should at least know who i am, yes?" you asked him with a smile. "right. im shouto." he said as you nodded. "i can't thank you enough, shouto!" you said with gratitude as he flashed a small, close mouthed grin once more. "no problem, y/n" just as you two were about to leave the aisle, an employee rolled in a cart of soba, probably containing more than 300 packs. "how lucky.. would you like more?" he asked you, pointing at the cart, "im feeling rather generous today, y/n" he told you. you got the racks for allat?!" you asked while gaping at him. just who exactly is he? "well, i can't.." he said, holding up the credit card, "but my father can."

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𝗸𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗿𝗶 𝗱𝗲𝗻𝗸𝗶;

•the first time he saw you, you weren't even fully clothed. •which is his ideal way to meet a hot black girl, of course.. •he was simply out shopping with the bakusquad •he then went to the fitting rooms to try on some clothes. •because he is a smart individual, he immediately went to the biggest stall. •only to see you in skinny jeans and a bra, your eyes widening as you saw him, whom had frozen in place, heavily embarrassed but somewhat excited. •after apologizing and leaving, he helped you find some good clothes that were your style and matched your skin tone well. •and there's absolutely no way that he'd meet someone as amazing as you and not want to get your digits..

❤︎

"kiri, tell the group that ill be trying out these hoodies, 'kay?" kaminari said to his red headed friend. "sure, bro!" kirishima agreed, waving off as the electric blond made his way to the fitting rooms, which were unisex. "the biggest ones are the best ones..!" he mumbled to himself, zooming straight to the largest stall. he whistled to himself as he swung the door open, only to see you, a [height] black girl in a bra and ripped skinny jeans, pulling a tshirt over your head. guess the stall's lock wasn't stable.. the both of you froze, his widened eyes wandering as you held your breath, your face heating up in embarrassment. "i-im so sorry—shit!!!" he cried out before leaving the stall rather quickly. you merely stood there, biting your lip at the abrupt situation. "..the fuck, bruh.." you murmured, putting on the shirt that you wore to the mall, since you had finished changing. you walked out to see the same golden blond standing outside of the stall, running his hands through his hair with a sorry expression, his face flushed red as he muttered profanities over what he'd done. "ey," you called out to him, tapping on his shoulder, "did you like the view?" you asked cheekily as he gaped at you. you weren't really one to take things to seriously, and you could turn any situation into a bright one with a few jokes here and there. "uh.. there's no right way to answer that, is there..?" he replied with a nervous chuckle. "don't lie, you was lookin! i don't blame you though, im hot." you said with a shrug, making him laugh. "so you're a little comedian, aren't you..?" he asked you, folding his arms across his chest, clearly feeling more comfortable than before. "depends on whether im talking to a cute blond or not. so.. you know the answer, yeah?" you giggled, making him smirk. your entire being made him want to give you a hug. you were pretty, clearly damn hot, funny, confident, and you were highly melanated? he had been finding himself gravitating towards chocolate girls for a while, but you were different from the rest, of course in the best way. he was wondering whether he had won the lottery, the both of you probably being a match made in heaven, hence the small similarities between you and him that he could already notice. he liked you. "you gon keep smirking at me or are you gonna use that stall?" you asked him sarcastically, "well, i might as well warn you about that lock. utter shit, man. that's why the door swung open so easily.." you muttered as he laughed once more. "only if you join me, pretty lady.." he said with a wink as you gasped playfully. "word?" you asked as he nodded with a hum. "bet, get in there!" you exclaimed, the both of you going back into the large stall. "so," he said, sitting down on the bench inside of the stall, "how can I get to know you?" he asked smoothly, a grin on his face. "ah, you tryna be slick, huh?" you chuckled, "well, you can start off with my name. y/n." you told him. "sounds beautiful." he complimented with another smile. "oh, stop it.." you laughed, waving your hand dismissively. "im denki, or maybe your boyfriend, whichever one you wanna call me.." he said as you giggled, liking his second option. "i can help you get some good clothes, if that's what you're looking for!" he suggested as you raised your brows. "oh really?" you hummed, "really!" he replied, getting up from the bench and holding out his hand to you. "cmon, y/n! let's go shopping."

𝗮𝗺𝗮𝗷𝗶𝗸𝗶 𝘁𝗮𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗶;

•he was simply on patrol with red riot and fatgum. •all of a sudden, you rushed up to him frantically, a worried look on your face. •he instantly remembered you as the girl from class 3-b, whom he had actually been a bit interested in for a while.. •he'd take glances of you whenever he saw you in the cafeteria and whatnot. •you were a good friend of mirio's but you and tamaki has never actually spoken until now. •you started to explain to him how this guy was following you and calling you a flurry of racial slurs. •he immediately started to feel his blood boiling. •anxious tama is gone, time to be a hero.

❤︎

"you want another bowl of yakisoba, amajiki-sempai?" kirishima asked cheerily, "fatgum bought some more!" he told tamaki. "i-i'm fine, t-thanks.." the elf-eared boy replied, tugging at the hoodie of his hero outfit farther so it could cover his face more. he was on patrol with the eight foot, blond haired pro and the younger hero in training, simply walking through a city in japan with a mindset ready to defend, which is what tamaki would have to do soon for you, whether he was ready or not.. he suddenly felt a pair of hands grip onto his arm, their fingers digging into his clothed bicep in fear. he yelped out as he looked down to see a familiar black girl with a shaken expression, the elf eared boy pressing his lips closed at the sight of you, his slanted eyes widening along with his face heating up. "..youre amajiki, yeah..?" you asked him as he nodded briskly, not daring to make a sound before he stuttered himself to an embarrassing point of no return. he knew you! well, he couldn't exactly say it that way, it made it seem as though you two were close. he would actually admire you from afar in school, with all honesty. he recalled you to be the pretty, brown skinned outgoing girl with a high puff that would usually be seen around mirio, since the two of you were both in class 3-b. he could practically feel the words itching to crawl up his throat and leave his mouth, though he didn't even know what those words would be.. what would he say to you? "oi, amajiki! i really need your help right now.. i heard that there was patrolling going on, so I just followed the sight of fatgum's head through the crowd.." you told him, snapping him out of his trance as he let out a yelp once more, the tall but introverted teen looking down at you, uncomfortable hums leaving his mouth due to his uncertainty of how to finally speak to you, which he was fucking up royally. "there's this guy.. he keeps following me and calling me some.. not nice things." you explained, "and he's making me uncomfortable.." you told him, his brows furrowing. "a-are you o-okay..? d-do y-y-you.. argh!" he gave up speaking for the time being as you looked up at him with a confused expression, your hands still holding onto his arm, as if you were trying to latch onto him for a sense of comfort. "its aight, miri told me that you aren't the most social guy.." you sighed, "but id really appreciate if you could keep a look out for that guy.. he looks mad sketchy, also wearing a goofy ass 'all lives matter' shirt..." you whispered to him, starting to walk with him through the bustling streets behind fatgum and red riot, your hands still around his arm as he looked around with an intimidating look, in search for whoever had been bothering you. "...w-what did h-he say t-to you..?" the indigo haired teen asked as you scoffed. "you don't wanna know, amajiki." you told him as he gave you a look. "oh, you actually wanna know? like, deadass?" you asked once more to make sure as he nodded hesitantly. "cmere then.." you signaled him to crouch down a bit so you could whisper all the info into his ear. "w-wha— he f-followed you... for t-that long..?! just because of.. oh.. o-oh no.." he muttered incredulously, now feeling his blood starting to rush in an angry flurry. how dare someone taunt and bother you like this just because you were different? "and then, he called me a——" you whispered the word into his ear as he gasped loudly. "h-how r-rude!!!" he wailed as you huffed in agreement. "and he wouldn't seem to leave me alone.. well, not until i mixed with the crowd and found you, that is.. i think I've lost him.." you said, "thanks, amajiki.. you've already helped me a lot.." you said to him graciously as he gave off an awkward smile in return, averting his eyes from yours. "n-no problem.." he replied, though his job wasn't done just yet. he finally spotted the man at the corner of his eye, whom was seemingly making his way towards you. "oi, the dark one!" they called out as you groaned, "oh hell nah.." you uttered with the roll of your eyes. "we don't need people like you here! the last time i came out to the city, a black pest stole my wallet!" he shouted, most people in a hearing range stopping in their tracks and turning to you, amajiki and the man. "s-she hasn't s-s-stolen anything..!" tamaki stammered, "so l-leave her a-alone!" he urged, the crowd cheering suneater on as others opposed the racist, shouting at him to leave you be. "oh yeah? lemme check her first, she probably stole something from one of these markets!" he said, lunging towards you as everybody gasped. tamaki activated his quirk swiftly, entrapping the man in his manifested tentacles. "don't touch her." he demanded, earring cheers from everyone around, but he didn't really care about all that, he just wanted you to be safe. tamaki turned around, looking down at you with worried eyes as he kept the man trapped with his quirk, "a-are you o-okay..?" he asked shakily as you grinned at him. "yup, i am now," you told him before planting a kiss on his cheek, "you a real one, suneater."

❤︎

𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗮𝗺𝗶 𝗸𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗼 ^ (𝗵𝗮𝘄𝗸𝘀);

❤︎aged!up!reader!❤︎

•it all started when he asked you if you fell from heaven. literally. •you're a young adult pro hero whom is good with combat skills and such. •but you aren't the best at using your quirk: hover. •your quirk allows you to hover over 500 feet from the ground, but you'd never used it to its full capacity, only working it up to 100 feet. •you were working on using it to a farther capacity, and since you have a hero license to use your quirk in public, you decided that you'd just work on it while out patrolling. •big mistake.. •but never fear! fast man Hawks was there to swoop you off of your feet and into the sky~

❤︎

"you can do this, y/n.." you told yourself as you hovered above countless buildings, which was the height that would usually be your limit. today, that would change, aiming to touch the clouds. you looked up farther into the never ending sky, a small shuddering sound leaving your mouth. maybe it wouldn't be too bad to cancel practice for today and stay on the ground.. "no! i should try at least..!" you encouraged yourself, hovering higher and higher until even the skyscrapers looked like ants. you then felt a strong pressure around your entire body because your system wasn't used to it, making you writhe in the air as your quirk started to deactivate. "nonono, oh shit!!!" you screamed, falling helplessly through the sky, your [color] braids whipping around from the wind as you came closer to the ground, many screams leaving your mouth in fear. before you hit the ground, you got swooped up before the impact, a flurry of red feathers around you. "the fuck—?!" you shouted, looking up to see the undeniably charming face of the one and only number two hero, hawks. "hey there, pretty birdie~" he chirped as you merely glared at him, still shaken from your freefalling. "did it hurt when you fell from heaven???" as he spoke teasingly, you looked down to see that he had flown higher up than you were before, your eyes widening. "g-get me down, hawks!!" you pleaded, your hands gripping onto his brown jacket as he only chuckled. "i saw what you were doing up here.." he told you, "don't you still wanna learn how to pass your limit? i can teach you if you want~" he offered you sweetly, still flying about with you in his arms as you both soared through the sky, the feeling that you were despite of at first now feeling more comforting and stress-less. "t-that would be great..!" you yelled, since the sounds of the wind made it hard to hear, "but can you put me down..?" you asked him as he blinked before letting out another laugh. "right, i forgot about that! sometimes, when i start flying i can't come down. i should warn you, its addicting to feel so free up here..." he told you. "can you get me down now?! geez, nigga.." you scoffed as he let out an awkward chuckle, "sorry, i should also warn you that talking is addicting to me as well.." he told you, flying down to the surface and putting you down as you shakily stood, your hands clenching at his coat once more as he laughed over your behavior. "we were just a few feet off the ground, it wasn't so bad that youve gotta wobble!" he chuckled as you glared at him. "a few feet???" you gawked. he waved his gloved hand dismissively, linking his arm with yours as he started to walk out into the bustling street with you, the two of you sending smiles and waves to fans whom recognized the two of you as the pros in the top five. "do you have to link onto my arm?" you asked with gritted teeth. he wasn't exactly annoying you, per se, you were just still very frazzled about the little flight he took you on. "of course i have to stay linked onto you!" he laughed, "birds gotta stick together, yeah?" he said. "i ain't a damn bird!" you yelled out as he replied, "but you can fly, can't ya?"

❤︎

[mirio, shigaraki, shinsou, etc. will later be added!]

^^^

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askthekuvaqbrothers · 4 years ago

Text

It's all Fun and Games

(TW: Injury)

“I’m heading to work now.”

Hermes adjusted his coat, feeling a collision with his leg the moment he reached for the door.

“Don’t go!”

Holding in a small sigh, he knelt down and ran a hand through his son’s green hair.

“It will only be for a little while Cletus. Just be patient.”

“Then take me with you!”

“I’m going to work. It’s not a safe place for children.”

“I’ll be good! I’ll sit still!”

Hermes sighed, “You know if I take you, then the other two will want to come too.”

Cletus frowned, not at all pleased with what he was hearing, and frowned harder when his brothers came up behind him, Rufus prying at his arm.

“Come back, we can’t play Junk Knights and Orbit Pixies with only two!”

Hermes smiled, “See? You’ve obviously got a game going on. Time will fly while you’re playing, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

Argus joined in, pulling Cletus’ other arm, and successfully dislodging him from their father’s leg. Unimpeded, Hermes now took his chance to leave.

“Be good.”

The door clunked shut. Pulling from his brothers grasp, Cletus considered wailing on the door and crying for Hermes to come back, but the man’s long strides probably meant he was already far from the door, and crying was just grotty and exhausting. Besides, Rufus was already grabbing at him again.

“Back to you position pixie! I was just about to battle to the death against the evil Controller.”

“Yeah, you know it’s my favourite part.” Argus grinned, punching a fist into his palm.

“I don’t wanna. Let’s… play something else.”

Rufus pouted, crossing his arms, “Like what? It’s gotta be more fun than Junk Knights.”

“What about…” Cletus looked around the house, then to the door, before a devilish smirk grew, “Hide and Seek?”

“Lame!”

“-But we play it outside.”

Rufus’ eyes lit up, but Argus put his hands on his hips.

“We’re not allowed outside without Dad.”

“Yes, but he always takes ages with work, so as long as we’re back before him, he’ll never know.”

“Yes! Let’s gooo!”

Rufus ran straight to the window in the kitchen, being the only one that opened to let out the smoke that came with Hermes’ cooking. It required him to scramble up the cooking furnace, and once he was on top and at the windowsill, he paused to offer a hand.

“Hurry up! I already have a perfect hiding place!”

Argus stepped up, accepting the hand, and allowed himself to be pulled higher. As the space on the furnace became cramped, Rufus slipped out the window and Argus in turned helped pull Cletus (and the plush toy he never let go of) up. Once they’d cleared the fall, the three made their way to the centre of town, standing by one of Gizmo’s emergency call stations.

“Right! Since you wanted to change the game, Cletus, you’re the seeker.”

“Okay. I’ll close my eyes and count to a hundred then.”

The green haired boy adjusted Poisonous into the crook of his arm, then turned and began counting.

“One, two, three, four…”

With a grin Rufus sprinted off, vanishing into the warren of a town, Argus swiftly following after. When the sound of their steps on the metal walkways went silent, Cletus stopped counting.

“Finally.” He brought Poisonous to eye level, “Now, what should we do now that we have some peace and quiet?”

The plushie’s crooked eyes stared off.

“Impeccable idea. Perhaps we could even go for refreshments.”

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

It must have been almost half an hour later when Argus found Cletus lounging in the shade, absently patting his plush toy. He looked up, and tried to feign surprise when he spotted the glare.

“Oh, you found me?”

“I believe you were supposed to be the seeker.”

“Is that so? I must have misheard…”

“How long were you going to sit here?”

“Don’t know, how long were you hiding?”

Argus sighed, the one that made it known he was not in the mood to play along with Cletus’ game. The green haired boy pouted in turn.

“Well I caught on to your alternate game, but Rufus is still hiding.”

“…Can’t we just wait until Dad is back? He’ll come looking for us anyway.”

He looked up to where he could just make out the entrance to the mines. Argus followed his gaze and paused, thinking.

“I suppose that wouldn’t hurt. He can only ground us.”

Cletus relaxed, scooting over enough that Argus could have some shade too. Another hour passed by before they finally caught sight of Hermes striding out into the open, where the two chose to wave him down. When their father caught sight of them, he was clearly disappointed, until something else crept into his expression.

“Boys, what are you doing here? Where is your brother?!”

Cletus rolled his eyes, “Don’t worry, he’s probably still hiding from our hide-and-seek game.”

“How long ago was this?!” Hermes was quickly starting to panic, Rufus being the one he knew shouldn’t be left on his own, “We need to find him.”

“Sure, I guess so.” Argus stood, dusting himself off, “If we shout that he’s won he might come out?”

Cletus reluctantly stood as well, following his father and brother as they began calling out. Rufus not coming home honestly sounded like a good deal to him; no more being hit in his sleep, no more grubby fingers going through his stuff, more peace and quiet. Sure, Argus may start demanding more of him, but it wasn’t the worst trade off.

Another 30 minutes and there was still no sign of their red-haired sibling. There was also no signs of fire and/or explosive destruction, which was both a good and a bad sign according to Hermes. Good, in that they weren’t having to deal with a destroyed town, but bad in the question of what Rufus was up to instead.

“Maybe he fell asleep?”

“Maybe he fell in a hole. Maybe it’s a really deep hole, and we’ll never see him again.”

Hermes ignored Cletus’ comment, which cause the boy to frown. He didn’t understand what the big deal was, it was just Rufus. He’d heard people say that Hermes couldn’t handle three sons, so surely it would be better if he just had two now. They should just accept he was gone and go home. The sun was right above them now and the whole mountain the town was on had begun to boil, heat waves rising off every metal sheet used in its foundation, and Cletus could feel his pale skin begin to tingle-

“Found him!”

Argus was standing on a small mound, looking down into a ditch that wasn’t visible from just the normal paths. A large piece of metal on the edge of it was also free of rust, leaving it blindingly shiny and the prefect distractor. Hermes scrambled through the scrap to reach the hiding spot, dropping down to pick up the missing boy. As he re-emerged, Cletus felt his skin crawl.

Rufus’ skin looked almost the same colour as his hair, and in places it had clearly begun to blister. The idiot had been sitting in the sun the entire time, with both the sun beating down on him and the giant reflector next time him, and he hadn’t thought to move. As he was being jostled, said fool managed to crack open an eye.

“…n’fair, -in’t say Dad could help…”

To where he promptly went limp. With a semi-strangled noise, Hermes began to move back to town, giving a brief command to the other boys to follow as they beelined for Gizmo’s clinic.

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

“Heat stroke, and a nasty lot of sunburn. You know, there’s a wonderful thing called ‘common sense’…”

Hermes bowed his head further, ready to accept the usual lecture, but all he got was a sigh from the town’s medic as he returned to his desk.

“I’ve applied some salve to the burns, which will need to be re-applied regularly. I would like to say he’ll be bedridden for several days, but considering who we’re dealing with here, I suggest you enforce bed rest and make sure he doesn’t rub off the salve as it needs to set in. No running about, no going outside, no excessive play. And make sure he stays hydrated.”

Gizmo looked to the two healthy brothers, where while Argus nodded solemnly, Cletus’ gaze remained on the floor. There wasn’t any blame being passed about for why they were outside in the first place yet, but all Hermes had to do was ask and Argus would tell, and Cletus would find himself without dinner for the next week.

‘Stupid Rufus.’

Hermes thanked Gizmo, collected Rufus, and quietly told the other boys to follow. The whole trip home was in silence, and it was eating Cletus up inside. Even when they were inside, Argus watching over Rufus on the bed, Gizmo didn’t say anything, simply lighting the stove and beginning dinner. Cletus sat himself at the table, distractedly plucking at Poisonous’ threads, running over the many possible punishments that could be unjustly given to him. It wasn’t his fault Rufus was an idiot with no self-preservation, if he’d just hidden somewhere normal and safe then they’d all get off with just a grounding but no, he had to get himself hurt and make it a big deal and all the blame would fall on poor little Cletus for just wanting some peace and quiet-

“Are you not hungry?”

Cletus jumped, completely unaware time had passed to the point that dinner was in front of him, Argus and Hermes seated beside him.

“I-I…”

He didn’t understand why their father hadn’t asked yet. In fact, he only felt more confused when a hand rested on his head, soothingly running through his hair.

“It’s alright, I know it was kind of scary to see, but Rufus will be fine.”

This was wrong. That wasn’t his hang-up at all. Sure his own skin crawled at the sight of him now, but that wasn’t the issue. Was he really not going to ask why they were outside of the house, where he always told them not to be?

He stared into his bowl, before suddenly pushing away from the table.

“Are… are you not going to ask?”

Hermes tilted his head, “Ask?”

“W-why we were outside, why we hadn’t listened to you?” Cletus trembled, a confused jumble of emotions swirling within.

Argus eyed him, “…He wants to know why you haven’t punished us yet.”

“Punish-? Oh. Oh boys.”

Hermes carefully moved to kneel by Cletus, pulling him into a hug, before he offered an arm out for Argus to join. With two sons in his embrace, he let out a breath.

“Yes, I am disappointed you ignored my rules, and that it had led to injury, but more than that, I’m just thankful you’re all still here. I never thought I’d have a time in my life to be a father, but after everything, I now can’t imagine myself without you three.”

He squeezed them both tightly.

“I just hope that this world will last for you…”

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

“OW! DAAAAD!”

“Cletus, don’t poke you brother.”

“But he’s trying to lick the salve again! This is the only way to stop him.”

Cletus turned back to Rufus, only to see his brothers tongue going once again for the back of his hand, so he yanked at his bright red ear.

“OW!”

Now with a dollop on his finger, Cletus sniffed at the medicinal mixture, almost daring to taste it himself.

“It doesn’t even smell that nice.”

“It smells like a plant I bit once!”

There were many things Cletus could have questioned, but he didn’t get the chance as Argus came into the house.

“Gizmo said this should help.”

Hermes accepted what Argus handed him, and after turning it over in hand, he realised how it worked. With a reluctant sigh, he knelt before Rufus, and swiftly wrapped what was essentially a plastic cone around his neck. The boy squirmed, not coordinated enough to dislodge the device, before he accepted fate.

Neither of his brothers could resist laughing at the sight.

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

Bonus: The scribble that inspired this

#Deponia #Rufus #Cletus #Argus #Hermes #Kuvaq Brothers #Gizmo #Injury #Sunburn #Back when I was musing on when I foolishly got sunburnt a few months ago

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atlas-tries · 5 years ago

Text

Shatter Me Chapter 3: Shatter Me

Read on AO3

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Summary: Patton finds a painful memory and Janus has a vision. Will it be enough to thwart the outcomes that await?

Notes: Redundant, no? Not gonna lie, fam, it's about to get to the darkest point. Trigger warnings for character death.

“Patton, are you sure you aren’t a hoarder?” Virgil asked, pushing aside a mountain of plushies where he had been unfortunate enough to land. This was the first time the anxious side had been in Patton’s room since he moved to their part of the Mindscape (also the first time he had ever been to Patton’s room) and Patton was beside himself to have him here.

“Absolutely! I just like to keep a few sentimental things around to look at when I’m feeling down,” Patton replied. “But I guess it uh, wouldn’t hurt to clean up a little. Gotta make room for more memories, right? I actually have the energy to do it now!”

Virgil looked at Patton with a lopsided grin. “Wait, what? You, not having the energy to do something? How’d that happen?”

“Ah right, you weren’t here for uh … all of that. Let’s just say I was recovering from an injury I got several months ago,” Patton said, instantly noting the worried change in Virgil’s expression. “Hold on, it’s alright, I’m alright now, see?” He lifted his shirt to showcase the few tiny cracks that remained. “I’m almost completely healed. Logan even gave me his seal of approval!” He pulled out a little medallion with Logan’s bespectacled brain signet on it. “See?”

Virgil breathed out a visible sigh of relief. He shook a finger at Patton. “Awesome,” he said, his voice cracking a little at the end.

“Alright, so you said you were looking for …” Patton started.

“… this one angsty poem Thomas wrote in high school. I thought I’d uh, spice the ruminating up a little when Thomas heads to bed tonight,” Virgil replied. “No better way to fall asleep than thinking about everything that’s gone wrong or that will go wrong, am I right?”

Patton smiled. “Sure, kiddo, as long as they’re balanced with happier thoughts during the daytime! Let’s see, I think what you’re looking for is over here.” He ran toward his version of the staircase that was piled high with boxes and other larger memorabilia that wouldn’t fit on the bookshelf. He glanced through a few of them, perking up a little when he came to the box on the fourth stair. “I think this is it!” He grabbed the box and ran back to Virgil.

“Keep them as long as you need them,” Patton said with a smile. He handed it over to Virgil, who nearly doubled over from the weight of the things inside. Virgil choked out a thanks and quickly sank out.

“Well, that’s one box temporarily dealt with. Now, about the rest of this marvelous mountain of memories …” Patton, though he would never outrightly admit it, didn’t like moving things around very much. It filled him with dread just thinking about moving something somewhere he would inevitably forget about it. Maybe it would be better to start smaller? He looked around for somewhere less cluttered to start. Finally, his eyes landed on the overflowing box labeled New Memories. “That’ll do for now.” He took the box carefully upstairs to his bedroom and got to work sorting its contents.

In around half an hour, everything was categorized into neat little piles that could be easily transferred to other more fitting storage spaces. Patton began collecting everything from the Friends and Coworkers pile and carried them to his dresser. The top drawer was for everything related to Joan. Admittedly, this one was getting a little bloated from all the fun stuff they and Thomas had ever done together. Still, Patton managed to find space for the newer memories in the crevices that remained. The rest made their way into their respective drawers, packed in tightly with all the rest of them.

Patton closed the drawers, smiled, and put his hands on his hips. “Perfect!” he said. Now all that was left was to take the box back to his version of the living room. He picked the box up and startled when it hissed at him. Something was still in there. He peeked into the box at the thing that had just slid toward him, an upside-down picture frame from the looks of it. Steadying the box with one hand, he reached in and flipped it over.

The last memory he had of Thomas’s now ex-boyfriend stared up at him from the bottom of the box.

His hands trembled a little as he stared at this frighteningly still image. “Nope nope nope, not today,” he said, closing the box and walking as quickly as he could to put it back where it belonged. Despite ridding himself of the visual, this memory was still going to make itself heard in the only way it knew how. Patton clutched at his chest hard and the box crashed to the living room floor. “N-not again …”

He sat down on the stairs a moment to regain control of his breathing. Searing lines thrummed in time with his heartbeat, dulled but not forgotten. This was another reason why he never bothered to clean up: too much of a chance to reopen old wounds. Patton rose with a wince to get that recording of the Rainforest Rap. That song always helped cheer him up. He kept the song on repeat until he felt some semblance of normalcy again.

For the rest of the week, Patton lay awake during the nights, praying that the darkness would somehow take away the memories that hurt him so. It, as many spectral entities do, provided no such reprieve. Certainly not enough to quell the ache settling further into his core as the days passed. Taking liberties in his duties here and there made things far more manageable. Just yesterday, Patton suggested Thomas indulge in a half a pack of Oreos and he listened. The day before, he had come thiiiiiis close to getting an actual bouncy castle! And today, Patton had one little plan he thought everyone would jump for (but not in a bouncy castle).

If everything went according to Patton’s plan, they would spend the next 48 hours rewatching The Office in a blanket fort with Thomas’s closest friends. They could all use a break right about now, what with Roman steamrolling through coming up with new concepts, Logan pulling all-nighters researching for new videos, and Virgil making sure everyone was staying on time with Logan’s schedule. He couldn’t wait to see how everyone else liked this idea! He was already out the door and nearly to the stairs when he heard muffled shouting coming from the living room below.

“—not seriously thinking of going along with this latest plan, are you? I have far too much to plan if we’re to keep this project at its utmost quality!”

Patton stopped dead in his tracks at the top of the stairs.

“I know, Roman, I’m concerned about this, too. We’re woefully behind schedule as it is,” Logan added. “If we don’t do something about this, my carefully constructed calendar will collapse under the weight of his impulse decisions.”

“But how are we even supposed to bring that up to him? He’s been acting weird all week, I know,” Virgil bit, “but you know how Pat takes these things, L.” Patton bit his lip to keep from making noise as the cracks grew once more.

“The best way to do that is to do like you said earlier Virgil, rip it off like a metaphorical Bandaid. This isn’t the first time we’ve had to do this.”

So. Patton had gone overboard these past few days with his contributions.

How many other times had he put the other sides in this exact same situation? They were all supposed to be in this together. Weren’t they …?

There was only one way to fix this. Fixing his cardigan and his expression, Patton plodded heavily down the stairs to announce his arrival. “Hey kiddos! Oh, good, you’re all here together, that’ll save me a few trips back upstairs,” he said cheerily.

“Don’t tell us, Padre, you have another idea?” Roman asked. His smile looked so forced.

“Kinda! So I was just thinking that since we are so behind schedule, a 2 day binge-fest might not be the greatest idea I’ve come up with. So instead of that, how about we work on this next concept together tonight?”

Jaws all around the room dropped. “Wait, what? I thought …” said Virgil, looking to the others.

Roman picked up where Virgil left off, “Patton, I believe that’s the best idea you’ve had all week!” He stepped closer. “How shall we go about it? At the dumb boring regular table here, or at the Round Table in the Imagination to help stimulate all the best thoughts?”

“Hmm, that’s intriguing, Roman. It would certainly be easier than trying to keep track of all our thoughts on paper,” Logan added.

“Hey Logan, I guess you say it’s a …” Patton started.

Logan’s eyes widened. “No.”

“Oh, this’ll be good,” Virgil snickered.

“… well-Round-ed idea,” said Patton.

Virgil and Roman couldn’t help smiling watching this play out. Logan groaned. “I will ignore that this one time because you made a worthwhile effort to get us back on schedule, but I do hope that you’ll spend a little more time thinking about what words you want to arrange in a sentence. And make them less … pun-filled.”

“I’ll try not to have too much pun, but I can’t make any promises!” Patton said.

Logan said nothing further, opting instead to vacate the premises as quickly as possible. “I’ll uh, go with him and we’ll get everything set up in the Imagination,” said Roman, running after him.

“Well, I guess that just leaves you and me, kiddo! Whaddaya say we make some snacks for everyone? We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us today!”

Virgil nodded. “As long as I can spit on something meant for Roman,” he said.

“I’ll let you have the cookie batter bowl,” Patton replied.

“Deal.”

Between the two of them, Patton and Virgil were able to make somewhat quick work of a heaping plate of hot cookies and several plates of sandwiches for everyone to enjoy. Sure, they may have gotten more flour and other assorted foodstuffs on them than into the finished products on the counter, but it was the fun they had doing it that mattered. Both of them decided that it would be best to change out of their dirty clothes before carrying everything into the Imagination.

Patton sunk into his version of the kitchen, which was considerably more cluttered than the common area kitchen. He stepped over a few stray memories before making it into the clearer living room. That was when he noticed Deceit sitting on his couch worrying his gloved hands. Softly, Patton called out, “Dee?”

Deceit startled and turned quickly to see Patton. “Um,” he said, clearing his throat and brushing down the front of his cloak, “you certainly didn’t sneak up on me.”

“What brings you back to my neck of the ‘burbs?” asked Patton.

Deceit stood from the couch. “We’re just getting so well acquainted that I thought I’d stop by for tea— and to give a warning. I know they’ve been growing again.”

Patton smiled sadly. “I guess I can’t really hide this from you. But you should know, this time—”

“It’s not their fault, I’m well aware. But doesn’t this make it the best time to tell them? The pressure is off. You don’t even have to tell them in a direct way!” Deceit said, taking Patton’s hands in his own. His eyes were alight with worry. “You just need to tell them.”

“I know I need to, but … it’s so hard to do. I’d be hurting them, I know I would.”

Deceit looked down and sighed. He brought his gaze quickly back up to Patton’s, staring with an intensity that Patton had never seen from him before. “You need to tell them,” he whispered slowly. “I saw something on the horizon. Something bad. As much as it pains me to say it, I don’t want that vision to be about you.”

That was a bit startling. Patton knew it wouldn’t get that far, but … could it? “Okay,” he said. “I’ll tell them.” That earned him a split-second smile from Deceit.

“That’ll do, Patton. That’ll do. What in the world is on my gloves?” Deceit said, sinking out.

“Cookie dough!” Patton called after him. “And probably some mayo. Oh, he probably didn’t hear me. Now what was I doing again? Oh yeah, clothes, brainstorming, Imagination!” He quickly ran upstairs to the bathroom to get changed and emerged from his room less than a minute later and grabbed what food Virgil hadn’t. Maybe if he busied himself enough, he would be able to forget Deceit’s visit. He wouldn’t think about the panic behind his crumbling facade, or the thinly veiled pleas he made.

But that would all be a lie. Something had him deeply troubled, and when Deceit was the one giving out a warning in earnest, it bode better to listen. But how to go about it? Patton sighed. “Alright, Patton, let’s just focus on getting to the others right now,” he said to himself. He closed his eyes and thought about the others, and about castles, knights, and everything that made Roman happy.

When he opened them again, he was in the Imagination.

Or rather, he was in a field in the Imagination, right in front of Roman’s towering castle. It was a perfect amalgamation of Gothic architecture and pure Disney magic that made Patton’s nostalgia meter burst through the roof. He ran through the front gates with appropriate gusto and was thrilled to see the others there around the table already, quietly chatting amongst themselves. “Ah, Patton, we were starting to think you forgot how to get here again. Come, let us formally begin this brainstorming bash!” Roman said cheerily.

“That��s the spirit!” Patton squealed, trying to sound as normal as possible. He set down the cookie platter and took a seat in the high-backed chair with his new symbol on it.

“First things first, let’s make sure we’re all on the same page before we begin,” Logan said, summoning papers for all of them. “In order to maximize our output, Roman, Virgil, and I have decided to remove some of the thought filters from the castle for this session. This means that any particular thought, if it’s focused enough, will manifest in here for all of us to review. According to my own independent research, this should boost our productivity by 42% with a .03% margin of error.”

Patton’s eyes widened a little. He really didn’t want to interrupt their work, but this new system would definitely cause problems if he didn’t come clean now. So, Patton gathered every last bit of gumption that he had and shouted, “I have a confession to make!”

The others backed up a little, startled that Patton could be so loud, but quickly recomposed themselves. “Go ahead, Patton,” said Logan, straightening his tie.

Patton thanked him, doing his best to not squirm in his seat. He knew they wouldn’t react well, but maybe saying it now would keep thoughts about it from popping up later. “I uh, wanted to get this out of the way before we get down to business. But um … I think I might be breaking again.”

“Come again?” Virgil asked.

Patton slid the collar of his shirt down enough to reveal several deep fissures. “These things. They’re growing again,” he said. “Started earlier this week. I just didn’t want that popping up without warning and ruining our work. Anyways, um, what ideas are we working with here, Roman?”

“Wait, breaking? Like, breaking breaking? Oh God, Patton, are you dying? You’re dying, aren’t you? Oh God, no! What stops death?! Logan?!” Virgil cried frantically.

Patton quickly said, ��Virgil, Virgil, breathe, I’m not dying. In for four seconds, there you go, hold it for seven seconds. You’re doing great. Just listen to the sound of my voice. Out for eight. Good job, keep it up.”

Logan got out a pen and notepad. “Again? And you say they started earlier this week? Do you remember which day it was?” he asked.

“The day I started cleaning up my room. Uh, what day was that again?” Patton said, still doing his best to softly coach Virgil back down to a calmer state.

“Padre … I thought there weren’t going to be any more secrets about this,” said Roman. The hurt look he gave to Patton about killed him where he sat.

“It wasn’t so much a secret as it was an ‘I-got-a-little-busy-and-kept-forgetting’ kind of thing. I never meant to keep it from you, any of you,” Patton replied. A tiny, glowing orb dripped from Patton’s chest. A thought. He pushed it down between his hand and the seat to trap it, knowing that it would unveil his lie. For good measure, he slung a leg over his hand.

“You were cleaning that day…” Logan mused. “I may have some theories that explain this phenomenon, though it is currently up to speculation. Allow me to elaborate. Patton, it seems that stressing yourself beyond your limits could potentially be the cause of this. You have certainly been going out of your way with your work this week. I believe we all recall the … bouncy castle idea. This could be leading to a lack of self-care needed to perform adequately.”

Patton nodded slowly with as real a smile as he could muster. “Yyyyyeah, that could be it,” he said, shoving down another treacherous thought as it popped out. It brought up memories of all the passing comments Logan made about his character.

“Uh, Pops? Whatcha … doin’ over there?” Virgil asked.

Patton stiffened. “Nothing, just, uh … Practicing a new kind of exercise?” Another one flitted out, pointing to being too overbearing with Virgil. “Hey, is that a dragon coming up to the castle?”

Everyone turned to look while Patton conjured a slingshot, flung that icky thought out the other window. and recaptured the one that had come out from beneath his leg.

“No, that’s a tapestry, Padre. It literally couldn’t hurt you if it wanted to,” Roman said. “Not that I would ever let it!”

Patton smiled. “You’re my hero, Roman,” he said.

Roman blushed a little to that. “Aw, Pat,” he gushed.

Another thought came up, a memory of a time Roman had taken him on one of his adventures. He had wanted to tend to a little wounded animal they came across and nearly got them killed because of it. Patton clapped his hand painfully over his heart to keep that one from surfacing. With a whimper and a slight grimace, he replied, “I mean it, Ro.”

Virgil was getting extremely antsy where he sat. “Okay, um … This is weird, right? Like, this just feels wrong.”

“Virgil has a point, you are behaving rather strangely, Patton,” said Logan. “Do you have something you’d like to add?”

With the focus being on what started this, another memory surfaced. The one that had started it again. Patton tried to bite that one as it meandered past. Curse these full hands! He missed by a mile, leaving it to float effortlessly to the center of the table.

“A thought?” Logan said. “Unconventional, but it’s an intriguing choice.”

It began to play. Patton was in his room, sorting through the new memories box. The last few were being tucked away. It skipped to him looking back in the box to see what was left. It showed him, holding the picture. Him, clutching his chest. Him, stumbling to the floor. As if on cue, the cracks thrummed in recognition. Thank goodness he already had a hand over them because it almost took his breath away. The memory evaporated, leaving the others to simply look with jaws slightly agape.

Patton could only look down at the table. These old wounds were reopening in the worst of ways, and now his closest friends would find out the truth. Logan finally broke the silence. “So, that’s how it happened.”

Patton nodded wordlessly.

“This was months ago,” Logan said.

“It was a busy time for me,” Virgil added. “Switching from everything Thomas did wrong to worrying that Thomas will never find love again got to be so exhausting.”

“I admit even I became a bit disheveled by his absence,” Logan said, looking down.

“I nearly ducked out over this. I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you, Patton,” said Roman.

Patton still couldn’t bring himself to look up. He knew there were pent up tears threatening to fall if he did. “It … it was hard … and seeing a reminder of it …” he whispered.

Logan sighed. “I believe your best course of action is clear,” he said. “You simply need to let the past be the past.”

“But … what about all of the good times we had with him? I don’t want to leave them behind,” Patton said softly.

“Patton, these memories are physically hurting you. I can’t understand why you would rather suffer endlessly instead of just letting one person go.”

You’re too sentimental to save yourself from dying.

Patton’s face contorted and a small whine escaped his throat. Those insidious cracks lengthened once more, each one feeling like a knife tracing its way through his skin.

Roman stood abruptly. “Now look what you’ve done, Quantum of Soulless!” Roman cried, motioning to Patton. Logan rose from his seat, trying to get a better look from across the table.

“Roman …” Patton lightly scolded. “Pl-please be nice.”

Roman huffed. “Sorry. What I mean is this situation needs a bit more delicacy than Logan’s robotic demeanor could ever hope to provide.” Roman walked over to Patton and put a hand gently on his arm. Logan was making his way over, too, notepad in hand. “Now Padre, you know how much I came to you when this was all fresh. We did our best to hold each other up, but even now, I still feel lost. I can’t tell you how much I yearn to have our beloved return, or how much I want to call him after all this time.”

Patton sniffled a little, putting his hand over Roman’s and leaning his head against his arm. “I know, I want him back too,” he said.

“I think we all do. But I think it might also be time to start boxing up some of those old memories. We can even help you start!” Roman said. Virgil shook his head. Logan rolled his eyes. “Okay, I can help you start.”

“But I don’t want to forget … I wouldn’t even know where, or how, to start. We had so many good memories together that I don’t want to lose,” Patton blubbered.

“I know it’s difficult, but we aren’t children anymore, Padre. I know the relationship ending was for the best and I’ve been striving every day to remain strong. I also know that you wouldn’t be leaving everything behind if you do the adult thing and let the ghosts of the past go.”

You’re too naive to understand what needs to be done.

Patton doubled over, groaning as the cracks split further down his limbs and up his neck. Bile burned at the back of his throat, and he could taste the coppery twang of essence. He felt another wary hand on him. “P-Pops?” came Virgil’s wavering voice. “I… Thomas was being too overbearing. That wasn’t your fault!”

YOU were being too overbearing. YOU were what drove him away.

Patton cried out in agony as his skin split down to his fingertips and over his face to the top of his head. Small chips of skin were beginning to fall away with tiny tinks as they hit the floor, displaying the bright blue beneath. He could feel the front of his shirt begin to dampen.

“I don’t get it! We’re trying to help, why isn’t this working?” Virgil cried. “Why are they getting worse?!”

Logan came up to Patton, attempting to lean him back with utmost care. “Perhaps just talking about the subject of his pain is what’s causing them to worsen,” he said. As soon as he looked at the frail fatherly side, his demeanor changed. “Virgil, get a first aid kit. Roman, help me lay him on the table. Now!”

The others, at first too stunned to move, burst into action as quickly as they could. Patton screamed as they repositioned him on the table, hyperventilating from the pain. “Hang in there, Padre, please hang in there!” came Roman’s muffled voice. Logan was reaching for the hem of his shirt. He mouthed something to him. Patton felt something glide across his skin from his navel to his neck. Wait, when did Logan get scissors? And where was his shirt? And why did the others look so horrified? Those questions seemed inconsequential to the truth staring down at Patton, demanding he tell it.

“It w-was my fault,” Patton croaked.

Logan started threading a needle. Virgil was carding his fingers through Patton’s hair anxiously. Roman looked at him with incredulous eyes. “What are you talking about?” asked Roman.

“Th-the breakup,” Patton replied. Warmth was trickling down over his ribcage and soaking his back. “A-and everything e-else.” Logan tried his best to stick the needle through solid skin, but it just chipped further. Patton coughed, a bit of blue making its way past his lips.

“Everything else? Patton, you’re not making sense,” Logan said, trying the same thing again with the same result.

Patton whimpered, “I-I know that I’m always … messing th-things up. I forget s-so much … I kn-know that you think I’m t-too sentimental t-to do my job. Th-that I’m too … naive t-to see the truth right in … front of me. That I’m s-so over … o-overbearing that I drove him away. If it w-weren’t for … all of you t-to rein me in … I-I’d make Thomas into a… w-worthless mass of a man.”

You are worthless.

“C-Compression. Let’s try compression,” Logan said.

“Pat … is this … is this what caused all of this?” Roman asked. His eyes shimmered.

“You can’t seriously think that,” Virgil said, his hands becoming shaky.

Patton cried as Logan pressed firmly in the center of his chest. More fragments broke free and with them, Logan’s hands went straight through into Patton’s chest. Patton nearly passed out. Logan quickly withdrew his hands.

“Ohhhh my God, oh my God, Logan, what did you do?!” shouted Virgil. “What do we do now?!”

Patton coughed violently, essence spluttering from his lips in a steady stream.

Logan could only stand there, frozen in horror, staring at his blue hands.

“Logan?!” Roman cried.

“I … I don’t know …” came Logan’s voice, barely above a whisper. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks.

“You can’t die on us, Patton, please, we need you!” Virgil sobbed.

Roman grasped Patton’s hand delicately. It began to shatter like porcelain barely held together. Despite the jagged edges, Roman still lifted it to his cheek, holding on like it was the only anchor in a violent sea. “Y-you’ll … all be … alright … without me … Just … p-promise me … y-you won’t … blame yourselves …” Patton gasped.

He couldn’t hold it together when bigger pieces of him began breaking away from the rest of his body. He couldn’t scream. He couldn’t hear.

He couldn’t see. But still, his mouth made the words.

“I… l-love… you.”

With a final shuddering breath, he was gone.

---

Janus knew that meddling with what his foresight told him never aided the outcome.

He knew this, but he tried anyway.

It wasn’t that he particularly liked Patton. He found him to be overly saccharine and ridiculously optimistic in the face of surefire doom, not to mention he stood by socks and sandals as a fashion choice. However, things always seemed to run smoother in the Mindscape with the fatherly side around. Someone had to be there to tend to the others and moderate their senseless bickering, he supposed. How would anyone get any sleep otherwise? And Patton wasn’t one to pass judgement when he was caught alone. Perhaps his near-blind acceptance was what endeared Janus to him in the first place.

Whatever the case, he didn’t want whatever was going to happen to go through like it wanted to. He could never determine much from these visions. Just … feelings. Notions. The occasional coherent thought. This most recent one should’ve been par for the course. Nothing could’ve prepared him for what came. He couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was being ripped apart. And there was nothing else around but the pain, searing a fiery blue, and those three intrepid words.

I love you.

A swan song if there ever was one. And now, standing here amongst the shadows outside Roman’s castle, he knew the swan had sung.

Taglist: @celeste-tyrrell @taxicabinmemphis @angeldiaries @somehow-i-got-an-account

#atlas writes #patton angst #sanders sides angst #shatter me #patton sanders #character death tw #are y'all ready to stone me to death yet?#shatter me story

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captainsimagines · 6 years ago

Text

RENT - Part 8

In which eight old friends in dire need move in together for one year.

Warnings: language; mentions of drugs and drug use; exotic dancing

Word Count: 1,000+

Sam - “Out Tonight”

THREE YEARS AGO

“I’ll take another one of those. Thanks very much.”

With his legs comfortably crossed and his shoulder draped with a small hotel towel, Sam breathed in the warm and humid air of Puerto Vallarta. It was much thicker than the air in Cuba, much warmer than the air in South Korea, and much more relaxing than the air in Los Angeles. Perhaps it felt ‘much better’ simply because he finally left his long-term girlfriend from high school, won $20,000 on the slots in Hong Kong, or because he was absolutely alone. Whatever it was, Sam sipped his brand-new sangria as he pondered the options.

Traveling wasn’t all glamour and big bucks. It took connections and some great taste in all things expensive. It didn’t make much difference to Sam if he was rich or poor. He was enjoying the freedom.

If Sam was questioned about it, he would claim he traveled better alone, experienced things with a greater mind that way. If it were up to him, he would only speak to another human being when needed. But he didn’t have to- not when everything was so perfect.

It was obviously some much needed ‘alone time’ after such an abrupt end to yet another strong relationship, but that’s what was foreshadowed.

He would never admit it to anyone yet and probably would always keep it locked away in the confines of his chest, growing and expanding. He would never find peace with himself, no matter how many times he sipped on delicious drinks and got the accurate daily dose of vitamin D.

He was extremely close to coming out to Dylan, the pool boy for his second cousin in England. He got close to telling Phil, the nice and rhythmic Jamaican that lived in the apartment next to his one summer. Sam had even told the fireman in France that he was ‘ heating up in places he shouldn’t be’, but quickly averted that awkward conversation to pointing at his neck and the oxygen tank instead. Sam almost mentioned it once or twice to Steve but decided against it- he, himself, simply wasn’t ready.

So, Sam quickly packed his suitcase and left a lovely, hand-written note to his latest love, Dave. Carefully placing the note in-between Dave’s medication and the cup of water on his nightstand, Sam debated once more.

A kiss goodbye? Should he just not leave?

Maybe he’d stay and tear the note and switch to ‘loving boyfriend’ mode and make Dave’s studio apartment smell like those burnt pancakes he loves so much. Or maybe Sam could visit Venice, Italy- he had never been there.

Sam eventually went with the second option, like always, and left the apartment with a glum expression and an even tighter chest than before.

THREE YEARS LATER

“How’s the couch treating yuh?”

Sam’s little quip almost ruined Bucky’s morning, but after breathing in the cool, Christmas morning air he quickly kicked off the three blankets with a happy look on his face. All red nosed and tangled curls sitting on top of his head, Bucky simply stuck his tongue out Sam and walked past him to start the coffee for five people.

“I’m doing fantastic, actually. How was your night?” Bucky replied.

Sam raised his eyebrows for a couple of seconds, but quickly set them down when he realized Bucky was only trying to fit into the holiday morning. Just the other night Bucky had almost blown someone’s head off and today he was actually trying to act less frightened.

“I slept great as well,” Sam smiled, gently clapping the table once and made his way to the balcony. Steve had been there for about fifteen minutes before Sam had woken, enjoying the morning breeze.

The sound of the window creaking open snapped Steve from his original gaze and landed on Sam instead. Sam raised his hands as an apology for the harsh sound but moved to stand next to his best friend. The two stood for a couple minutes without a sound, listening to the calmness of Brooklyn before people began getting up to start the Christmas day. By the time the fourth bird sang its song, Sam gently shoved Steve’s shoulder to alert him of his morning greeting.

“Morning.”

Steve smiled as a reply, a quiet sigh exiting his nose followed by a breeze of cold air.

“I hope you weren’t expecting a Christmas present. But I think my presence is enough. So, it counts.”

It was Steve’s turn to shove Sam to the side. Steve hugged the blanket tighter to his body and once he noticed Sam wore no warm cover, he suggested they head back inside. “As much as this morning calms me, I think we should freeze inside the building instead.”

Sam nodded in agreement, following the tall blonde through the creaking window. As they stepped back into the living room, you had emerged in your ‘angel’ uniform. It’s description could be kept short considering Steve had already scanned every single detail during your first encounter. But the diamonds and white silk still made him weak in the knees. Sam choked on his spit loudly, instantly covering himself with the same blanket Steve was wrapped in. He squeezed himself against Steve and stared at you in astonishment.

“Girl, what are you wearing?”

You chuckled, lugging your suitcase and large coat in both hands. You dropped them on the couch and did a slight twirl to your audience. “It’s Christmas. Perhaps one of the busiest days of the year. Besides Valentine’s Day and Super Bowl Sunday.”

Bucky had stopped pouring his coffee to stare at you in awe. He was quiet, deciding to listen to the conversation rather than intrude.

“But... it’s Christmas,” Sam whined, snuggling closer to Steve. Steve decided to join the dramatics, just in case you were to change your mind. He snuggled closer to Sam as well, and made a puppy-dog face to entice you with the idea of warmth. You rolled your eyes at the men and waved them off.

“I’ve got the main set today. Tips will be flooding at the doorway, gentleman,” you laughed and put on your oversized coat. “You gotta learn from this hard-working woman.”

Steve continued to shake his head, “Are you sure?”

“You want some rent money or not?”

Steve puckered his lips and raised his eyebrows in an exaggerated look of understanding. “Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. No doubt, no doubt, no doubt.”

“You’re crazy if you would ever want me to miss out on all the guilty dough from sad men celebrating Christmas in a strip club,” you twirled again, this way making your way to the kitchen.

Christmas, no matter how lonely it was in the mornings and the nights you returned, was always your biggest hit. It was as if the momentary dancing and singing and money being thrown at you was enough to numb your pain for a long while. You had always made enough money to buy a new needle or alcohol. If you had dressed better than the months before, or danced greater, or showed a little more skin, the men always gave you enough to buy some more smack.

But you had quit. You had thrown away all of your needles. You didn’t have the temptation anymore. The more you worked, however, the more temptation would itch.

But this was for rent money. Something you were always behind on, anyway. “Why don’t you guys come hang? There’s nothing here to get you in the spirit,” you laughed, grabbing yourself a styrofoam cup to pour some cream and coffee in.

Bucky smiled as you twirled around him, still hesitant about interrupting a conversation.

You stopped in front of him, “You’ll be able to make it to my set, right?”

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly. He had seen you dance on his drunken nights in the city when he used to visit Steve, but never had he voluntarily watched while sober.

Sam answered instead, “Us? Watch you... strip?”

For the second time that joyous morning, you rolled your eyes. “You’ll probably see just a little nip slip. Don’t worry too much about it.”

Sam smiled brightly, teeth showing and everything. “I’ll make sure to be the loudest and grandest tipper there!”

Your expression of delight turned into confusion. “Why would you waste your money, when it’s gonna go into my pocket, and then back into this apartment?”

“Oh,” Sam sighed. After a few chuckles, the sound of the door unlocking caught everyone’s attention. Peggy scurried inside with a tray of chocolate chip cookies and her ‘Best Cook’ apron wrapped around her waist. The four of you cheered and lunged at her, devouring her treats and locking her into the previous conversation.

“You gonna enjoy this miracle with us, Peggy?” Steve asked, mouth full of cookie. Peggy smiled at him and handed him a tiny napkin.

“Sure! I appreciate any form of dance! Just ask Steve.”

Sam grabbed his cup of black coffee and took a long sip before he replied to Peggy’s comment. “You managed to teach Steve something besides the sidestep?”

You quickly fixed your bra backstage, grinning at the constant muttering of the guys at the front of the stage. If you heard correctly, Bucky wanted to give the taxpayers their seats because they weren’t going to throw anything anyway. And you briefly heard Steve say ‘shut the fuck up’ once in a while.

The girls backstage wished you luck, a wider smile than usual on all of their faces. As sad as it was, Christmas day brought more customers and with that, more money. With one final stretch of the arms, you walked onto the stage in the dark. A mic was strung from the back of your bra and through your hair, the tip reaching the beginning of your forehead. You held onto the pole as the drums started to pound and the lights brightened you up.

“What’s the time? Well, it’s gotta be close to midnight!”

You danced and sang your heart out like you would any other day. Your voice vibrated off the walls beautifully and the men reacted like any straight man would be.

You reached the end of the stage and rolled over on your stomach, extending your legs outwards and then rolled over onto your back. Pushing yourself up, you leaned out into the crowd and smiled at your new roommates. So engrossed in your little dance, they were simply staring at you and then the wall... then you... then the wall.

To get the best tips possible and as a silent “I got this” to your friends, you hit the floor once again. Belting and following rhythm, you ended up on your back once again. You had it, you certainly did as any of the boys would exclaim, when you lifted your legs into the air and unlocked them, spreading them wide open for the whole audience. A cheeky look was all it was and it gave you breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the whole apartment for three whole days.

You wrapped up and headed back behind the curtain, wishing the next girl luck as you caught your breath.

The girls were all acquaintances and you knew everyone’s first and last name. There were no strangers. Every girl knew you and every girl spoke with Luke. It was a small community. However, no backstories were ever shared. No one knew how many siblings each person had or if they were sleeping under a roof every night. So, it would make sense that no one knew each other’s past addictions. You stopped in your tracks as you saw a suspicious teenage boy hand a little baggy to one of the girls who had already performed. You swallowed hard and averted your eyes quickly, heading over to your table to grab your clothes.

“Thank you, Peter,” the girl muttered, wiping her nose in the process. The boy looked at the woman with a hint of sympathy before he nodded and slipped out the back door. She turned around and almost yelped when she saw you staring.

She looked to the floor, “I’m sorry. I, um... needed it.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” you smiled slightly. She nodded quickly and grabbed her purse, exiting the same back door.

You could feel the itch in your throat and a headache aching to break through. Without a second thought, you ran to the back door and squinted at the afternoon light. She was gone and so was the itch. Almost.

“Need something?”

You turned and saw the boy near the door smoking a cigarette. You cleared your throat uncomfortably.

“Aren’t you a little young to deal?”

The boy chuckled, “Have to pay the bills in New York some way, right? I’m guessing you understand completely.”

His response was sort of backhanded but you ignored it. Instead, you left to reenter the building.

“Not gonna buy anything?”

You stopped in your tracks, looking at his pale green eyes. You always knew a dealer’s number one rule was to never try out the product. But you could tell her enjoyed it more than he should.

“I’m not interested,” you stuttered. It was then that you felt so cold, the afternoon air biting you in the face. Peter smiled and grabbed your arm quickly, making you jolt. You felt his hand slide into your jacket pocket and slide back out.

“Free handout.”

Before you could reject, he sprinted down the alley and out of sight. You let out a heavy breath, feeling the unbelievable weight of the tiny bag.

Steve exited the bathroom after taking his medication, joining his friends at the kitchen table. Everyone was eating the takeout you had bought right after your set.

“That blonde chick... ugh- I can’t... I can’t stop thinking about her,” Peggy joked. You laughed and told Peggy her name, also adding that she was most likely single.

Steve joined, “Don’t go giving Peggy girlfriends.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and ate a mouthful of kung-pao chicken before speaking. “Why can’t I?”

Steve answered immediately, “Because I think she’s interested in someone else anyway.”

You rolled your eyes and saw Peggy’s eyes leave Steve’s to hide her blush. You chewed with your new found knowledge, deciding to change the subject. “So, what did everyone think of the set?”

Bucky answered first. “It was surprisingly great.”

You scoffed quietly, “Surprisingly?”

Sam rolled his eyes and nudged your shoulder, “Bucky meant the surprise in his jeans.”

Bucky almost catapulted from his seat to pounce on Sam but he held himself together. He opted for a shy shake of the head instead. To save him as well, you brought your attention back to Sam.

“And what about you, Sam? Any girl catch your eye besides me? I could tell you loved me the most by how much fidgeting you were doing,” you teased, lying about the last part. “I could always get someone’s number.”

Sam continued to eat his noodles, “Not really. You did great, of course.”

The room was filled with laughter for a couple more hours before nightfall came. Before everyone retreated back to their rooms and Peggy back to her apartment, Sam presented a number of bags from behind the couch. Everyone’s mouth fell open.

Steve almost let a tear slip. “Sam, you didn’t have to.”

Bucky also agreed with Steve, “You really didn’t. Dude...”

Sam raised the bags in the air, “Yeah, yeah. But it’s Christmas! Here’s one for you...”

He handed a bag to everyone, including you. You looked at him in disbelief.

“How did you even have time?”

“You know when the orange-haired chick had that ten minute set?”

Everyone muttered in recognition. “Yeah, I left for a good thirty minutes after she took the stage.”

You snorted silently, covering your mouth.

“Open them! Open them!”

Steve went first, ripping the paper out from the bag and looking inside. He released a heavy sigh and pulled a first-aid kit. “Wow, thanks. Just what I needed.”

Sam brushed off Steve’s silent muttering of the word “dick”. Bucky opened his next, pulling out a new can of pepper spray. He scrunched his eyebrows and waited for Sam to explain.

“Yeah, that shit’s for when you wake up ready to kill us in the mornings.”

Everyone shared a tiny chuckle and pushed back the memory of a gun in their face.

You pulled the paper from your bag and found a bag of Doritos.

“You need carbs. Okay! Peggy! You’re last!” You pushed your tongue to the roof of your mouth to restrain yourself from both beating Sam and laughing out loud.

Peggy pulled a key from her bag. She pursed her lips and thought about what it could be for.

Sam asked for it to show her. She handed the key to him and everyone watched as he went up to the front door, opened it, and locked and unlocked it from the front. Peggy’s eyes widened, as did everyone else’s.

Sam threw the key back at her, “Whenever you get too lonely, or want to see Steve or anyone one of us, which is highly unlikely.” Steve just stood shaking his head at his best friend.

“Or when you finally decide to move-in.”

Peggy remained silent but threw herself at Sam and gave him a big hug. It was a grand gesture, one that no one was opposed to.

And just like that, a nice moment was ruined when a knock at the door disturbed you. The face behind the door was not really unexpected, especially since he popped up out of nowhere all the time. If it wasn’t for a packed apartment, Steve would have punched T’Challa for ruining a nice night.

Instead, T’Challa stood and apologized for his presence right away. “I apologize for my showing. I just wanted to deliver the news instead of having a poster strung up on your door.”

Steve’s heart fell. A slight ping pinched at his chest but the loud voices behind him made him forget about it. There was protesting already before T’Challa had even delivered the news.

T’Challa stepped into the apartment and shut the door behind him. He waited until an opening in the argument allowed him to speak. “I wanted to tell you in person that I had to sign the contracts. But I promise that I will push this project as much as I can.”

Bucky scoffed, “So, instead of kicking us out right away you want us to wait and wonder when all your pushing is going to finally fail?”

It was silent. T’Challa sighed and reached into his pocket. Before he could pull anything out, Steve stormed out with Bucky and Peggy following him.

You and Sam stood in the middle of the kitchen awkwardly, looking at each other and back at T’Challa. Sam looked T’Challa up and down while you fiddled with the interior of your jacket pocket.

“Here. Take it. Please,” T’Challa said, holding out an envelope that looked to be filled with money. Sam furrowed his eyebrows and continued to stare at T’Challa.

“You want us to take money from the one evicting us? Is it going to change anything?”

T’Challa slowly shook his head but proceeded to place the envelope on the kitchen counter.

“Just say it was from work. A bonus,” he said, looking at you to see if you understood. You stared in confusion and watched as he left the apartment, shutting the door quietly on his way out.

Both you and Sam just stared at the money.

“Should we take it?” you asked, still fiddling with the bag in your pocket. Sam reached out to take the envelope and count it. With a silent scoff, he threw it back onto the counter and retreated to his room.

You cursed the end of this wonderful day and cursed the money. The one thing you needed most was right in front of you. By the looks of it, you could take that amount and leave the state to start over. But would you really do that to your friends?

With one last flip of the baggy in your pocket, you began to go to your room to sleep. The door opened to reveal Bucky returning, wet and dripping from the rain outside.

It was quiet as you two stared at each other. He eyed the envelope and raised is eyebrows. You swallowed hard and spoke.

“Cigarette?”

A/N: OH MY GOD, HI THERE!!!!! I MISSED YOU ALL!!!!!! I’M BACK!!!!! I don’t know when regular updates will take place but guys, I’m so close to graduating and I’m doing really good. I know it took a whole year to get my vibe back and to get back to writing. I want to thank you all for being so awesome and loving my writing. I promise I will finish this fanfic, no matter how long it takes, and all the others I have started. Thank you so much for sticking with me. I love you all. xx -Moni

TAG LIST: @4theluvofall @ihavemymomentsstill @shrekssunflowers @sumafamouxx @chook007 @seems-sosimple @smollyssa @evyiione @directionerfae @aheadfullofsherlock @elaacreditava @fireflyloki28

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willgayers · 7 years ago

Note

uhhhh i need a reddie as parents hc

oh my god yes!!!!!

planned together w @remushlupin again

its also long again. do i even need to say this anymore??? all my hc’s are long i cant write them short sue me

lets assume they have a boy and a girl (*cough* neil patrick harris & david burtka *cough*)

so ever since the kids first arrived at the shared household of tozier and kaspbrak,,, richie would not put the polaroid camera out of his hands

he’d be taking pictures of the kids CONSTANTLY in every situation ever. bath time? absolutely. messy spaghetti for lunch? you bet your ass. play time on the floor? DEFINITELY. eddie changing the diapers? even then.

“RICHIE ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RN?”

“well what! we gotta memorize everything!”

“nOT EVERYTHING”

richie’s also constantly emailing the photos to the rest of the losers because he’s such a proud dad

“this is rhiana eating. this is rhiana outside playing in the leafs. this is rhiana taking a bath. this is rhiana sleeping. this is rhiana —”

“okay richie great pics!!” (please no more)

“thanks! now here’s liam watching tv. here’s liam with the neighbor dog. here’s liam in his favorite overalls isn’t he just so CUTE—”

so many shopping for baby clothes!!! beverly’s also bought so many like every time she sees a cute baby overall or something she buys it immediately

they basically have so many colors like all the colors of rainbow

(obviously)

once the kids get a little older like around 4-6 all they wanna do is watch disney movies!!! and eddie and richie are down with it of course

just imagine reddie + kids movie night???? all of them cuddled up on the couch??? with a bowl of popcorn??? under a blanket????

mulan is rhiana’s favorite and little mermaid is liam’s favorite

richie of course learns how to do the voices to all the funny disney characters, his best ones are sebastian and mushu though and the kids LOVE them!!!! they love them so much and it just drives richie to do the voices even more so eventually eddie has to forbid him from doing them around bedtime because the kids will never stop giggling and every time they giggle richie’s heart expands like a trillion times so he will just continue with the impressions and it’s a CYCLE

in case you were wondering, richie’s the stay at home dad. i repeat, richie’s the stay at home dad!!!!!

he definitely does the laundry and dishes wearing a baby blue apron

eddie’s working 9 to 5 as an accountant and he fucking hates the job

richie and the kids decide to cheer him up and call him facetime calls and eddie’s immediately feelin better :“)

also. whenever eddie has to work a long day he comes back home to a ready bubble bath,, a warm prepped meal and a glass of red wine

eddie knows it’s gonna happen every time he’s coming home late but somehow he always forgets? so whenever he comes home and opens the door to see the dim lighted kitchen with a candle on the table next to his foil-covered plate and the wine glass he nearly bursts out in tears

richie’s a very caring husband™

but not that great with dressing up the kids

*one night when richie’s taking liam to the movies*

“honey … what is liam wearing???”

“he’s wearing fashion.”

“is that a… baby hawaiian shirt???”

“LIAM RUN TO THE CAR!!!!!”

anyway,,, how cute would christmas times be too?? like baking gingerbread cookies all of them around the kitchen counter together while listening to christmas songs ,,, richie and eddie forgetting about the kids for a moment when richie accidentally gets some red sugar frosting on eddie’s nose and eddie’s like “omg what did you do!!!” and richie says “you’re rudolph now” and boops his nose,,, and eddie just swoons and oh WOW they’re in LOVE and some disgustingly cute heart eyes to each other are exchanged before richie leans to kiss him and the kids go “EWWWWWWWW!!!”

imagining this just added 10 years to my life

richie literally spoils them SO MUCH

*reddie shopping for christmas presents*

“richie what is that?”

“it’s the doll house rhiana asked for”

“uhh yes and it’s also 200 dollars”

“,,, it’s the DOLL HOUSE ,, RHIANA ASKED FOR”

richie would fetch them the moon from the sky if they asked for it

also imagine the christmas mornings ,,, richie and eddie on the couch snuggled next to each other with cups of coffee/tea,, with smiles on their faces watching as the kids open the presents and it’s literally just the photo of a perfect family on a snowy xmas morning

well lets fast forward a little again, the kids are like 8-10 now

rhiana has the prettiest dark, curly hair and her eyes are brown and beautiful

liam has light hair, it’s kind of like dirty blonde and he’s got blue eyes

rhiana has a lot of friends over all the time and eddie’s always making food and/or snacks and bringing them to the kids

liam has like three good friends and they’re also constantly over but they’re mainly inside liam’s room playing video games. (or secretly listening to britney spears)

rhiana does karate and liam plays soccer

richie always drives them to school and practices ,, eddie always picks them up

they’re definitely at every competition/game cheering

“THATS RIGHT! KICK HIS ASS! KICK HIS ASS RHIANNA!”

that’s not richie by the way. that’s eddie

and at liam’s soccer games they definitely have the big foam thumbs and self-made cheer sheets

whenever liam scores richie’s gonna tap the person next to him on the shoulder and be like “tHATS MY SON!!”

and that one time when liam did the winning score,,, oh my god eddie screamed and richie accidentally threw his nachos to the air

at one karate competition, rhiana got kicked a little too hard and she fell on top of her shoulder, dislocating it

eddie and richie had sort of an argument after this,, whether or not they’re gonna let rhiana continue

eddie doesn’t want his daughter anywhere NEAR the karate ring anymore and richie thinks that if rhiana wants to continue she should

however she doesn’t want to do it anymore and richie notices she’s super sad all the time, so he suggests a new hobby and rhiana is like “like what?”

richie’s like well how about i teach you how to play guitar!!

rhiana learns acoustic guitar in like a freaking week and she gets so excited about musical instruments so she learns how to play piano and fipple flute and ukulele and wow richie’s so proud

liam gets interested in instruments too now that he has to listen to his sister practice in her room 24/7 (because of course richie bought her her own piano too), so liam learns how to play the bass

“kids, i think we should start a garage band!”

eddie cutting in between with slightly nervous laughter

“i think NOT, richie!”

lord knows eddie couldnt take it

times of horror ahead at the age of 12-13

so many “I HATE YOU!!! I HATE YOU BOTH!!!!“s

…because they weren’t allowed to play video games after 11pm anymore or go to slovenia with their best friend’s family or buy the shoes that cost 150$

(even richie’s getting a little strict now because eddie keeps on telling him this is your fault you spoiled them too much and now they walk around thinking im gonna buy them a fucking 2000$ smartphone)

richie’s hurt because his imitation voices aren’t funny to the kids anymore, instead they say he’s stupid and childish

wait did i say richie’s hurt? i meant richie’s heartbroken

because his kids his babies his best friends don’t want him around anymore they push richie away and rhiana even told him to ”get a fucking life, dad!!!!“

they definitely won’t let richie take any photos to the "baby photo” books that turned into a little longer than expected

so one night eddie walks upstairs to find richie crying in the bedroom with his head in his hands

“honey what’s wrong???”

“they hate me”

“richie they adore you. they’re just teenagers it’ll go away you know it”

and it does go away thankfully,,, and at the age of 15-16 they’re almost back to normal again. but now they’re just so teenagers

richie’s the good cop and eddie’s the bad cop

one time liam comes home high

fun little fact; they’re looking after their neighbor susan’s cat for a week because she’s traveling and richie is stroking the cat on his lap as he speaks

(you know how bad guys turn around on the chair)

“well well well,,, look who decided to come home”

eddie has one leg thrown over the other and hands resting on top of his other knee with such a strict look on his face

liam goes pale as he turns around, his eyes are so red and he’s just. definitely not there

richie tilts his head

“are you… are you high?”

liam just looks at him before shaking his head slowly. like. way too slowly

“shit you got any left?”

eddie gasps and slaps richie’s arm who immediately then blurts out

“i MEAN— sHAME ON YOU, LIAM, THAT IS AWFUL AND THAT IS WRONG!”

later that night richie tries to get some sexy times but eddie’s still mad at him

“oh come on eddie it wasn’t that bad”

“yOU ASKeD yOUR SiXTEeN YEAR OLd SON IF HE HaD ANY WEED LEFt fOR yOU!!!!”

“…okay i guess it was a little bad but-”

next week rhiana wants to go to a party

surprisingly tho, richie won’t let her

she asks this over dinner and she on purpose asks this from richie directly because she’s sure he’s gonna say yes

“so dad there’s this party on friday and-”

“no.”

eddies eyes widen, rhianas jaw drops and liam raises his brows but he’s lowkey gloat that his sister gets told no for a chance

“what???”

“you heard me” richie just guides a piece of the steak to his mouth

“this steak is very good honey” he just speaks like he just didnt forbid something from his daughter

“thank… you”

“excuse me but why am i not getting to go to the party??????” rhiana is like uHhh WTF dad

“because i said so”

liam snorts

“OH MY GOD!!!”

“:)” richie

“but EVERYONE is going!!!!!”

“i don’t care you are not”

“LIAM WENT TO A PARTY LAST WEEKEND!!!”

“liam’s sixteen”

“I AM FIFTEEN”

“yes so wait one more year”

“!!!!UGH!!!”

liam decides to take advantage of this

“hey so uh, johnny invited me to this-”

“no.”

“???huh???”

“i said no”

“BUT YOU JUST SAID I COULD GO BECAUSE IM SIXTEEN”

“yes, and last weekend you got home high”

“BUT-”

“no buts. liam, you are… what do you call it…”

silence

“ah, right. grounded”

“GROUNDED???”

“really?” even eddie asks, confused

“YOU CANT GROUND ME A WEEK LATER, DAD”

“says who?”

liam is just gaping

“thats what i thought”

eddie’s lowkey turned on and needs to take a sip of some ice cold water in his glass

at the age of 17-18 liam starts dating some girl from his high school and both richie and eddie love her she’s a very sweet girl!!

she’s at the house constantly and now both eddie and richie realize that rhiana’s never once mentioned having a boyfriend?? and now they’re confused because she’s gorgeous and smart and funny and everything

richie thinks he’s such a scary dad that no guy would even dare to approach her

eddie just snorts and mumbles a "sure…”

one time eddie and rhiana are having some quality time together at the mall and eddie brings up the relationship subject even though him and richie agreed not to bring it up but hE CANT HELP IT

“so… any cute guys at your class?”

rhiana gets so pissed off and storms out of the restaurant and won’t talk to eddie for the rest of the day and eddies so confused like what did i do wrong??? honey i’m so sorry???? but rhiana won’t answer she just sulks for the whole car ride

when they get home she locks herself in the room and won’t come out and eddie has to tell richie that he asked her and richie’s like why would you do that and blah blah blah

anyway then richie goes up to knock on rhiana’s door

“GO AWAY!!!”

“it’s me”

silence

the door opens

rhiana’s eyes are all teary and her lower lip is shaking and richie’s heart drops at the sight

“,,,baby what’s wrong??”

rhiana bursts out in sobs and richie steps in to her room,,, pulling her to a hug and she just cries and cries

richie then asks again what’s wrong and suggests sitting down and talking about it

“i… the reason why i… haven’t… brought a boyfriend home is… because…”

“yes???” richie asks, his voice soft

rhiana sniffs

“honey you can tell me anything okay???”

“its because im gay, dad”

richie doesn’t say anything for a moment

it’s not because he’d be shocked but because why would his daughter feel awful about telling this to him??? to eddie?? her parents are gay,, she shouldn’t feel like this,,, but clearly something or someone has made her feel like it’s wrong and now richie feels so sad

“okay.” he just says

rhiana blinks

“o-okay?”

“okay. so you’re gay. lovely!”

rhiana lets out a stuffed-nose laugh

“really? that’s it?”

“well we can throw a parade if you want to”

rhiana just hugs richie and murmurs a “i love you dad”

she then gets the courage to tell eddie too and eddie tries not to cry because he’s actually so happy??? that his daughter is so brave to tell both him and richie ?? like he never would’ve had the guts and he never even did tell his mom he’s dating richie before they were 19 and richie pROPOSED but here his daughter is at the age of 17 ,,, and he tells her she should never be ashamed of herself and honestly the two of them have a long heart-to-heart conversation that really just,,, brings them so much closer than they ever were

liam,,, in his hetero relationship however…

“YOU BROUGHT A GIRL IN TO THIS HOUSE TO HAVE SEX????”

“eddie calm down. they’re eighteen-”

“SEX??? INSIDE THIS HOUSE??!!”

richie just ignores eddie and asks liam,,,

“just tell me you were at least using a condom?”

“yeah”

“a cONdOM??? YOU— oh MY GOD YOU KNOW WHAT A CONDOM IS!”

“baby isn’t that a good thing? the kids are being safe!”

“A CONDOM, RICHIE!!! SEX!! LIAM IS HAVING SEX!”

“okay can we PLEASE stop saying sex?!?!!,”

“THATS WHAT YOU’RE DOING! IF YOU’RE NOT OLD ENOUGH TO SAY IT YOU’RE NOT OLD ENOUGH TO HAVE IT!!!!”

“oh come on babe we were like sixteen when we first-”

liam gags and eddie gasps

that was a long, long night and a conversation for all of them. also painful

for poor liam especially

anyway overall they’re just the greatest family ever

ikea shopping together

painting the kitchen walls together and eating chinese takeaway food on the floor

disney land trips

family vacations

movie nights

watching the ball drop from the tv at new years and shooting some fireworks from the backyard

(richie nearly set the house on fire once or twice tho)

when the kids were younger and it was date night and babysitters were needed…. losers club to the rescue!

stan and bill as godfathers,,, they always take the kids to museum tours or great restaurants

mike is their favorite because sheep,,, cows,,, chickens!!!! also he shows them pretty places and photos from when richie and eddie were teens which is funny because what the fuck is richie wearing and why does eddie have two fanny packs?????

ben and beverly always take them to cute ice cream shops or play board games with them

and when richie and eddie come back home/pick the kids up they’ve literally just missed them so much

PARENTS!REDDIE FOR LIFE

@superbyersbros @xbell22 @donthateonk8 @stenbroughbros@reddiebrekmyheart@itsgreywaterrichie @donvex @blueeyespurpleskies@ageorgymi@oh-youre-the-worst@eddiekaaspbraak @whipashwhipash @rissyq @richietoaster@edskasqbrak@urtury@bukiminajimu @kcutieeesblog @stansmansuris @adorefack @reddieaddict@icyeyes102@denbroughbill @graveyardshipper @taletellingsir@anxiety-freak-yuuri@rheddie@queertrashmouth @richiefreakingtozier@castletozier @tohzier @80soleff @lonewolfhard@low-key-dying @sad-synth @richietoaster @badboyharrington @beepbeep-losers@temptedtozier@kaspbraccs@kylieee827-blog @sad-synth @low-key-dying@officiallyreddie@reddietofall @stanleyboii @eternitynurarms@remushlupin@turtleneckrichie@rosegoldrichie @80srichie@asteroidbill@lonewolfhard @trashmouthgazebos @littlepointman

#reddie #parents!reddie #it 2017 #it fanfiction #hcs

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lastbuckshot · 6 years ago

Text

NSFW: “Abraham” Pritchard/Reader, Wave 2: Part 3 of 3

Words: 14.0k Fandom: No Rating: Explicit Title: Shooting Star

I’m sorry, God.

Breakfast with Abraham continued lightheartedly, with Abe continuing to flirt as you sat atop his lap. His hand stroking up and down your thigh, winding up beneath your dress shirt to trace your lace panties with his fingertips. He fed you bites of food, and watched your mouth intently to track each clenching of your jaw and licking of your lips. Once his plate was clean, his arm wrapped around your waist, you reached into the fruit bowl on the table for a last slice of orange. Sinking your teeth into the fruit sent a trickle of juice dribbling from your bottom lip, down your chin. Before it could drip down to your chest, Abe caught it with his finger and collected the juice with his tongue, licking his fingertip clean.

“You’re such a beauty, babydoll,” he said. “Thank you again for spendin’ today with me.”

The orange slice was now reduced to its peel as you set it back down on Abe’s plate. Abe wrapped his hand around the back of your neck to bring your head toward his. He kissed you, lapping his tongue into your mouth with a satisfied groan. The kiss was deep and sweet, with the taste of orange and syrup overwhelming your mouth. When his sticky, syrupy lips began to pull away, he moved them down to your chin, then your jawline, where he kissed just beneath your ear.

“D’you think we got time for a round two this mornin, ladybird?”

As you chuckled, Abe continued to kiss down the length of your neck. His hand had migrated from your waist to stroke up and down your thigh, allowing his fingers to tease around your panty line.

However tempted you were, you stood up from his lap and straightened out his shirt, which you’d thrown on for the morning.

“As nice as that sounds, Mr. Pritchard, I should head out. There’s a place out of town I’d like to get some presents from.”

You turned to walk away, but felt Abe’s palm wrap around your wrist. He stood, stepping close enough to you that your body was pressed up against your dining room table. With his body pressed into yours, the sensation of his cock pressing against your panties was apparent. His hands slid up and down your sides, his tongue left streaks of wetness on your neck. He pulled your hips in closer toward his own, and tried to slip his hand between your legs, before you gently grabbed his wrist and pulled away.

“C’mon now, ladybird,” he prodded. “It’s my birthday. Today ain’t the day t’ be shy.”

“I know. And you can have all of me that you can take. After I get your presents.”

Abe heaved out a deep sigh, planting a kiss on your cheek and taking a couple steps back.

“Alright. I’ll hold you to that, ladybird. But at least let me pick what you wear.”

Abe wasted no time heading upstairs to riffle through your closet, still wearing his robe from breakfast, dead set on finding the perfect outfit for you to wear. After several minutes of mixing and matching, putting shirts next to shoes and pants next to shirts, dresses next to pairs of heels, mixing and matching colors, Abe had finally found his outfit.

From the closet, he first pulled a floral dress. The dress was white, covered in bold red roses with deep green leaves. Abe laid it on the bed next to a pair of red peep toe heels and stood back to look over the outfit, before nodding and looking over at you.

“This is it,” he said. “This right here. That’s what I wanna see you in today. This, and some pretty red lipstick. Maybe some jewelry. Where d’you keep all that?”

You stood from your seat on the edge of the bed, and slipped Abe’s dress shirt off of your shoulders and onto the floor.

“Over on my dresser. My lipstick should be lined up on top, my jewelry is in that brown wooden box.”

Before he turned his attention to your jewelry, Abe stopped a moment to look at your body. Only your panties covered your skin as you unzipped your dress and removed it from its hanger, and you watched as Abe licked his lips, his eyes focused intently on your chest.

“I do have eyes you can look at, Mr. Pritchard.”

Almost as soon as your snarky remark left your mouth, Abe looked up at you with a raised brow. He chuckled and walked toward you, shrugging off his bath robe and tossing it on the bed. He stood chest to chest with you, sliding both of his hands up your waist and to your chest, cupping your breasts in his hands and squeezing.

“I know you do. But that’s not what I’m interested in right now. It’s my birthday. I can look wherever I please. Unless you wanna do somethin’ about it, little bird.”

Your nipples were stuff against his palms, and you held your breath as his head dipped downward. His tongue swirled around one nipple as his hands squeezed around the other. The hairs of his goatee felt prickly against your breast, and his breath was warm and wet. He switched his attention to the other breast, tugging your nipple between his lips and grazing his teeth against your skin. A moan escaped your mouth, but nonetheless, you pressed gently against his freckled shoulders to get him to pull away.

“You know you have to wait, Mr. Pritchard.”

Abe kissed around both your breasts, looking up into your eyes before he stood up straight. He smirked, a grin full of bright white teeth, and licked his lips.

“You’re a bold little lady, aren’t you? Makin’ me wait on my special day. But I like it. This new assertive thing you got goin’. Makes me want it even more.”

Abe kissed your cheek and walked toward your dresser drawer with a wink, leaving you to get dressed. After finding a bra to put on, you stepped into your dress, reaching behind your back for the zipper. You managed to zip it halfway before you began to struggle, and soon thereafter, you heard Abe’s voice fill the room.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear this before, ladybird.”

In his hands was a silver necklace, and dangling from it was a star-shaped charm, and in the center, a single diamond was embedded. Abe handled it gently, just as he had with your flowers the past afternoon, unclasping it to extend the chain.

“Reminds me’a my little star. I’d really love it if you wore this for me t’day.”

As he walked up behind you, you turned your back to him, allowing him to wrap the necklace around your neck and clasp it. While your back was still turned, he helped you finish zipping your dress, then turned your body around to face him.

The style was reminiscent of a pin up, with the straps wrapping around the back of the neck in a bow, and the dress stopping just above your knees. The dipping sweetheart neckline allowed the pendant of your necklace to dangle freely over your chest, swinging side to side as you bent over to put on your heels. After passing you a tube of red lipstick and a hand mirror, allowing you to finish up, Abe stood back with his hands on his hips, and exhaled deeply.

“That dress is gonna come off a hell of a lot faster than you put it on, sweet pea. You c’n bet on that.”

With a few more pursing and unpursing motions of your lips, and satisfied with your lipstick, you set the mirror and your lipstick neatly back onto your dresser drawer. You smirked in Abe’s direction, doing a spin in place for him to see your outfit, front and back. Turned back around to face him, he stepped forward to take the star-shaped charm of your necklace between his fingers.

“I really do love this on you. It’s beautiful. Like you’re my little shootin’ star.”

“I don’t know if I’d suggest you start making any wishes on me any time soon.”

“Maybe not,” he chuckled. “But that ain’t gonna stop me from tryin’.”

Abe tugged gently on the silver pendant, pressing his lips against yours in a quaint, sweet kiss. Once you pulled away, a smudge of red lipstick was evident on his lips. Noticing your gaze, he wiped his thumb against his lips, examining the red and smiling.

He let go of your necklace, allowing you to finish getting ready. Abe wrote out a list of ingredients for his favorite cake, and you wrote your own list of gifts with which to surprise him. Now almost ready to leave, to took your white purse in tow, shuffling through it for your keys and wallet. Upon seeing you rifle through your wallet by the front door, assessing your own budget, Abe, who had taken a seat on your couch, stood abruptly.

“How rude’a me, ladybird,” he started, “I almost forgot. What kinda man would it make me if I made you spend all your own money like that?”

After disappearing upstairs and into your bedroom for several seconds, Abe came back out, still wearing only his boxers, with his wallet in hand. He handed it over to you with a smirk.

“There you go, little star. Take however much you need outta there. Whatever you need, it’s yours.”

A few seconds of stunned silence passed, with the thigh brown leather of his wallet in your palm.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to. I have the money. You pay me well, anyway. You always do.”

“I know I do,” he agreed. “But that money’s for you. You ain’t gotta spend your own hard-earned money on me. So take what you need. I insist. Maybe take a little extra to buy yourself somethin’ nice.”

With a smirk and a wink, Abe left his wallet in your hands, walking back toward your bedroom.

“In the meantime, I’m gonna head back home, check on the crops and animals. Don’t miss me too much if I’m not back by the time you are.”

Abe was now out of view, leaving you alone in your living room with his wallet in hand. Upon opening it, a thick row of green bills was first and foremost apparent. In one of the outer pockets was Abe’s ID; it was adorable to you, with a stoic, disinterested frown and tired eyes. In the adjacent pocket, however, something caught your eye. There was a circular, protruding outline, much taller than any coin would be.

You glanced up toward your bedroom door and listened for Abe, but what little shuffling you heard was distant. You wriggled your finger inside of the leather pocket to work out the object, which, as you pulled it out, gave you a familiar sinking feeling of awareness.

A gold wedding ring. Lightly scuffed with age, and cool to the touch after a day of being hidden away. You ran your fingertips over its surface, watching the way light reflected off it, and eyeing your distorted reflection in its curves. Time got away from you for several moments, staring at and into the ring, but a loud thud emanating from your bedroom pulled you out of your guilt laden trance. Quickly, you shoved the ring back into its pocket as you’d found it, and rifled through Abe’s wallet to pull out a couple hundred dollars. It was more than you really needed, you thought, but you wanted to have enough, just in case. Abe’s money in your wallet and your car keys in tow, you set Abe’s wallet on the arm of your couch and left.

The drive ahead of you was a long with, with nearly forty minutes between you and the nearest city. Having driven to and from the Pritchards’ home for years, however, a forty-minute commute was no worse than what you did every week, and sometimes every day, for work. It’d been a while since you’d seen the city last, but the prospect of seeing the sights, the stores, and comparable lack of farms. Despite your appreciation for small town life, the quiet and solitude, the naturalness of everything that surrounded yourself and your home, your closeness to everyone in town, you couldn’t deny your love for more secular comforts.

The world outside whipped past your windows, and the events of the past day replayed in your head, whizzing by, frame by frame. Just a short half day ago, quiet Sunday solitude was king. Yet now, in a pinup dress and panties soaked with his saliva, you drove into a different town to buy gifts for your married lover. The quiet hum of your car gliding over gravel had turned from a moment of calm to a sinking in the pit of your stomach. You clasped tightly to your steering wheel and cleared your throat, shifting upright, staring straight at the road ahead.

It didn’t take long for you to realize when you’d gotten to where you needed to be. The sight of new, shiny, compact cars and SUVs at every corner, without a worn-down pickup truck in sight. Car horns blaring, engines revving, music pounding and reverberating from car speakers. Even the traffic lights and cross walks on every corner were a far cry from what you saw day-to-day. All around, buildings reaching for the now-breaking morning clouds. You rolled down your window, and the sticky after-rain air filled your nose, as well as the smell of exhaust and fresh grass. You looked around for the large supermarket you frequented for trips such as this one, transporting yourself back to the last time you’d been to the city to buy your camera and camcorder. Several more minutes of driving got you where you needed to be; an expansive parking lot, and a store whose size could rival the entirety of your town.

The transition from outside to inside of the store sent a gush of cold air whooshing past your body. As far as your eyes could see was row after row of groceries, snacks, produce, and baked goods. Each of your heels clicked, one after the other, on the hard, white floor of the supermarket. With your cart rolling along in front of you, you dug through your purse for your two lists.

First in line was Abe’s list. Patrolling the refrigerator sections for cream cheese, getting lost in the aisles looking for flour, cinnamon, and sugar. While perusing the shelves for vanilla extract, a pattering of footsteps caught your attention.

“It’s you! We were looking for you!”

Before you could collect your thoughts enough to recognize the voice that called after you, two pairs of arms wrapped around either of your legs. Your heart jumped, and a box of extract was sent falling to the floor from your hands. When you looked down to see who it was, however, you exhaled and clutched your chest.

“You boys scared the devil out of me. Be careful running up on people like that.”

“We’re sorry, ma’am,” Jackson said. “It’s just we didn’t see you in church yesterday. We didn’t think we’d get to see you before we left.”

“Left?” you prodded. “Leave to where?”

“Oh, don’t let those boys make it sound dramatic,” a female voice called out. “We’re just gonna stay out of town for a little while. A week or two, maybe.”

The sound of her voice caused your stomach to lurch. Looking up to see Diana’s face was nearly unbearable. Embarrassing. Humiliating. Shameful.

“You’re dressed up so nice and pretty today,” she said. “And you’re a ways from town. What’s the occasion?”

Your heart thudded against your chest. If only she knew what you’d been doing with her estranged husband a mere hour or two ago. The dream you’d had came back to mind in waves. Her anger. Her horrified expression. Her disappointment in you. Abe’s defiance. The events of this morning. The rain, the kissing, the moaning, the sex. The cum and spit-soaked panties you wore now, warm between your legs, as you faced her, eye-to-eye.

“Nothing much, Mrs. Pritchard,” you started. A hesitant silence grew for a couple seconds.

“Mr. Pritchard stopped by my house today with a job, actually. He asked me to make a cake for him. He said it was his birthday, so I came here to get all the ingredients and maybe find a gift. I figured it’s the least I can do to thank him for giving me a good job like he has.”

Diana nodded and smiled through your words, with a tinge of a frown at the mention of Abe’s name. Once you finished speaking, one of the boys interrupted.

“Is daddy staying over at your house? Like a sleepover?” asked Noah.

You laughed off the comment despite its truth, and talked your way around it.

“I guess you could say that. I set up a spare room for him so he wouldn’t have to drive all that way, back and forth. He does it for me at your house, anyway. I’m just trying my best to return the favor.”

With every word that left your mouth, selling this lie as an act of charity, you hoped Diana would buy it. She stayed silent for a moment, but smiled, taking your hand in her own.

“You’re a very sweet girl. You truly are. He never admits it, but he does get lonely. ‘Specially now with… you know. Us goin’ through things. Abraham always did take a liking t’ you. I don’t think I’ve heard him raise his voice t’ you once.”

Your eyes wandered down towards her hands, looking for gold, but found none. Not on her right hand, and not on her left.

“Was there anything you’d like me to tell him, Mrs. Pritchard?”

She smiled and looked down at the floor, tapping your hand in a comforting way before letting go.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she stammered. “I guess tell him… tell him that despite what’s goin’ on, I hope he has a nice birthday. And maybe tell him I said I hope he found a way to settle that temper of his. Maybe he’ll listen t’ you.”

“I’ll make sure to tell him, ma’am. I hope you and the boys have a good time on vacation.”

A final hug and kiss to the boys, and a kind nod to Mrs. Pritchard ended the exchange. Once she was several steps away, you knelt down to grab the fallen vanilla extract from the floor. You clutched it over your chest and stared up into the ceiling, getting lost in the bright white lights, and exhaling to calm your shaking hands.

Powdered sugar. Oil. Baking Powder. Baking soda. You went through the rest of the list of ingredients without issue, leaving some of them, such as the butter, milk, and eggs, to get fresh back in town. You promptly turned your attention to your second list of gifts, perusing the store’s clothing sections, and perusing the area where the electronics and newest gadgets were kept. You made a point to check out quickly, with some things in your cart not for the eyes of prying estranged wives, and left.

The ride back home took about an hour, after stopping by a local market in town for what you needed for Abraham’s birthday dinner. The sun was high in the sky by now with the onset of afternoon, and most of the clouds from the morning had broken apart to give way to a bright blue sky. The doorknob clicked as you turned your key inside and pressed the door open with your palm. You’d expected to see Abe sat on the couch, watching television, but saw no such thing. You saw that his truck was backed into your yard, however, and looked around.

“Is that you, ladybird?”

Now in your living room, you could tell that Abe wasn’t downstairs; only his blue bathrobe laid on the couch cushions, with the TV remote sitting next to it. His voice was distant, but you could tell it was coming from your bedroom. Your heels clicked against your hardwood floor and up each mahogany stair as you stepped into your room, but still without sight of Abe. The bathroom door was cracked open, with a slither of light stretching across the floor.

“It’s me,” you called back. “Are you in the bathroom?”

“That I am. Just shavin’, though. I can help bring in those groceries for you in just a minute. You can come in and keep me company for a little while.”

The bathroom door creaked, opening inward. Abe stood at the bathroom sink with white shaving cream covering most of his face, and a straight razor angled against his cheek. Each stroke was slow and precise, taking globs of shaving cream and stubble with it. He was in the same boxers he was wearing when you left.

“I just thought I’d clean up extra nice today. I won’t be long.”

The scent of his cologne was strong and familiar, and mixed with the odor of shaving cream in the air. Each freckle on his back was highlighted by the harsh bathroom light, as were the freckles along his arms and chest. You reached your hand around to feel up his stomach, strands of hair brushing against each nook in your palm and between your fingers, his body muscular and solid to the touch. His gold cross dangled over his chest, jingling each time he leaned toward and away from the mirror.

“Do you plan on putting on clothes today, or is this gonna be a boxers-only birthday party?”

“Hey, now,” he joked, “Workin’ on a farm all these years paid off. There ain’t nothin’ wrong with me showin’ a little bit’a skin. How’d your little trip to the city go?”

The images of Diana and the kids came sharply back to you.

“Good,” you said. “It went good.”

Abe went for another stroke of the blade against his cheek before he responded.

“Just good?”

“It’s grocery shopping. Not the most exciting thing in the world. There’s not much to say.”

Abe cleaned off his blade with a wet cloth he’d set on the sink before going in for another stroke.

“Oh. Alright, then. Just wanted t’ ask. I know you like all that city stuff. I thought maybe you saw somethin’ you liked.”

The guilt of your lie built with each second that passed not telling him. You fiddled with your fingers, watched him work in the mirror, touched his body, much to his delight. But soon, the pressure reached a point of no return. You couldn’t hold it in any longer. You blurted out—

“I talked to Diana and the kids.”

Abe’s hand jerked away from his face, and soon thereafter, in the mirror, you saw a streak of red running down his face. You gathered up some toilet paper in your hand and turned his head towards your own, dabbing away the blood as gently as you could, without disturbing the rest of his unshaven face.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve waited until you put the blade down.”

“It’s fine, sweet pea. It’s not your fault. You just caught me off guard. That’s all.”

You continued to dab away blood until the bleeding from the cut slowed to a stop. The cut was smaller than you anticipated from the blood you’d seen running down his cheek. Once the bleeding stopped, you threw away the tissues in your hand, and allowed Abe to continue shaving.

“I gotta say, this is quite the eventful birthday I’m havin’. But you got me curious, now. What’d she have t’ say?”

“Nothing much. The kids saw me first.”

“Of course.”

“They ran up and greeted me, I said hello, and Diana came up and greeted me too. She asked me what I was doing out of town, I told her you were paying me to make you a little birthday dinner. Like a side job.”

“Did she buy it?”

“I guess so. She told me I was sweet, and how she noticed that you always took a liking to me since you’ve never yelled at me before.”

While cleaning off his blade, Abe chuckled once to himself.

“I s’pose she’s got a point there. Anything else?”

You paused, trying to recollect the message that Diana had asked you to send along as best you could.

“She said she hopes you have a good birthday today, despite everything that’s going on. And she said to try to settle your temper. And that maybe you’d listen to me.”

Abe inhaled deeply, and exhaled slowly. An uncomfortable silence settled over the bathroom as Abe finished shaving, with the same slow, deliberate strokes. Both cheeks were clean of shaving cream once he washed off his face, drip of water falling from his nose and lips, into the sink. He felt his face for any stray stubble, and feeling none, he cleaned off the blade once more and set it down on the sink, staring into your reflection in the mirror.

“I want you t’ be honest with me, star. Are you sure about us? Do you wanna keep doin’ this?”

The question had caught you off guard, but your answer was quick; nearly automatic.

“I’m sure.”

He turned to face you, gripping your shoulders in his hands with a firm squeeze.

“I love what we have. You know I do. But I won’t ask you to lie t’ D. Not if you’re not comfortable. If you want out, just tell me. I won’t pretend I won’t miss it. I won’t pretend I wouldn’t prefer it if we kept goin’. But if you wanna stop, tell me up front. I c’n take it. I mean, hell, look at it. You’re stowin’ away an old man who don’t wear his wedding ring no more, while you talk to his wife who still does. I’m not puttin’ you in the easiest situation.”

You mulled over Abe’s words. You couldn’t deny the discomfort you felt in your gut every time you saw Diana’s face, or the kids, or his wedding ring. But after looping his words in your head several times, looking into his sympathetic brown eyes, a sudden realization hit you.

“She wasn’t wearing it.”

Abe furrowed his brow, tilting his head curiously to one side.

“Pardon me?”

You repeated yourself.

“She wasn’t wearing it. Her wedding ring. She didn’t have it on when I saw her.”

You struggled to read the emotion in Abe’s face. It seemed like a mixture of so many things; his furrowed brow, his mouth slightly ajar, his eyes squinted in something like disbelief. He stood upright and looked around the room, stroking his goatee and nodding to himself.

“Well, then,” he started. “Maybe we ain’t got much t’ worry about. Who knows. Maybe she has her own fella of the night now.”

His tone was low, the passive aggression apparent.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t be upset. Look at what I’m doin’. We’re separated, anyway. We c’n both do what we want.”

His tone was quieter now; resigned, and some tinge of disappointed. He prodded his cheek with his tongue and looked you over, standing in your red peeptoes and dress. Several seconds passed before he bit his lip and cracked a smile.

“Since you seem not t’ like me walkin’ around here in my underwear, I’m gonna get dressed. Then I can help you with those groceries. Your loss, though. I think my body’s hangin’ in there pretty good for my age.”

It took Abe only a few minutes to get dressed. You’d gone outside to hide away the gifts you’d gotten first, along with the wrapping paper and bows you’d bought to wrap them with. By the time you found all the gifts, hidden them, some place safe, and headed back outside to bring in more groceries, Abe stood in the front door. He wore a blue plaid shirt, with rows of white and burgundy forming cross hatches every which way. It was left open, showing his white t-shirt beneath, tucked into his black dress pants, secured at the waist by a dark brown leather belt. His black dress shoes tapped against the pavement of your driveway towards your car, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Are there any surprises in here I shouldn’t touch, darlin’?”

“Already hid all that away, Mr. Pritchard.”

“Clever girl,” he said. “Guess you learned last night that I can’t help but be a little nosy.”

The two of you traveled back and forth, inside and outside of the house, setting groceries on the kitchen counter to put away. With most of your counter space covered with groceries, and all of what you needed in the house, you were finally able to close the door behind you, and get to work on today’s birthday festivities.

Abe helped you put the groceries away, aside from those you needed to prepare lunch. On the menu were barbecue roast pork sandwiches with home cut fries; a guilty pleasure of his, he’d told you, but one he didn’t get to eat often.

You were hard at work, seasoning the pork, washing the potatoes, cutting them into fries. As you’d come to expect to be par for the course today, Abe often stood in the kitchen to watch with flirtatious advances, stroking his hands down your arms, hugging you from behind, and kissing the crook of your neck. You tried your best to focus on the meal at hand despite him, and managed to do so, if not without the occasional moan of pleasure from his touch.

Lunch was served and eaten, and leftovers covered and put away. The smell of barbecue still lingered throughout the house, permeating nearly every room downstairs. Abe was fully satisfied, sat on the couch with his plaid dress shirt now buttoned and tucked. A silver watched wrapped around his wrist ticked loud enough for you to hear, sitting next to him, your head cushioned by his shoulder. He rested his hand between the warmth of your thighs, stroking his thumb along your skin, his other thumb controlling the remote, flipping through channels.

With drooping eyes and a full stomach, you clung onto Abe’s arm, scanning your eyes over your living room. Your eyes settled on the television for several seconds, them moved to your walls, then toward your kitchen, and back toward your TV again. The sight of your camera on your coffee table caught your eye upon looking downward. You leaned forward to grab it and examine it, flipping it on its side and on its face. Abe noticed the movement of your hands and fiddling of your fingers, glancing over to see what you were doing.

“You wanna do some more posin’ for me, or what?”

Without a word spoken, you straddled his lap. Through the viewfinder you looked at his face, his eyebrows cocked upward, with a smile on his face.

“Oh, we’re takin’ pictures of me now?” he teased. “I don’t know, ladybird. I think you work the camera better than I do.”

He tugged your thighs closer in his lap, looking up curiously into your camera lens. You snapped a picture, waited for the polaroid, shook it, and set it aside. Looking through the viewfinder a second time, you saw Abe’s face again, this time with a broad, goofy grin on his face. The corners of his mouth curled into deep smile lines, and around his eyes were branching crow’s feet. You kept one hand still gripped around the camera, and with the other, ran your thumb over the wrinkles that surrounded his eyes.

“You don’t have t’ tell me, darlin’. I know I’m old.”

“The wrinkles are handsome. They suit you, sir.”

“They suit me ‘cause I’m old.”

You leaned over to kiss his cheek, then up toward the corners of his eyes. You kissed along his wrinkles on either side as he smiled, with earned a hardy laugh from Abe. You continued kissing, switching from one side to the next, until Abe finally turned his head away, still laughing heartily.

“Alright, doll, alright,” he laughed. “I got it. You think the wrinkles are cute.”

Looking through the viewfinder now, Abe grinned, his face reddened from laughter. You snapped pictures of him and set them aside, letting him make new faces for each one. One with his tongue out, another with a fake frown, another with his eyebrows raised high. After taking six pictures, you’d gotten your fill, and put the photos some place safe to develop.

The rest of the afternoon before dinner was spent lounging on the couch playfully kissing and laughing together at whatever TV show Abe had chosen to watch. A few more hours passed until, looking up at the clock at hung on your wall, you realized it was nearing seven o’clock.

Gently, you let go of Abe’s arm, stood, and stretched. A couple of your bones popped, and a rush of tingling sensations ran up from your toes to the top of your head. You slid your feet into your heels to give Abe the view you knew he wanted, and waltzed into the kitchen, prepared to start Abe’s birthday festivities off right.

More potatoes washed in the sink, along with two large stalks of broccoli. Two large steaks pulled from the fridge, fresh from the market today, seasoned front and back and set aside. At your small kitchen table, Abe sat and watched you, all the while cracking pecans in his hand to get them ready for his birthday cake.

“I could’ve taken care of those, you know.”

“I’m sure you could’ve, darlin’. But I don’t mind at all. It’s sorta therapeutic, actually.”

His eyes drifted down your legs, to your ruby red heels.

“And I got a great view.”

Dinner was nearly ready, with two potatoes in the oven, broccoli steaming on the stove, and steak sizzling in your cast iron pan. You turned your attention now to Abe’s cake, the recipe to which you kept close by on the kitchen counter. Abe watched attentively now as you read his directions, taking care to do everything to his liking.

“You almost look a little nervous, sweet pea,” he said, stepping up behind you. He kissed along your neck and down to your shoulder, caressing your hips as he swayed from side to side.

“Relax, doll,” he whispered. “This ain’t life or death. You could make the worst cake I’ve ever tasted, and I’d still appreciate it. I got other things I can eat from you, anyway.”

You followed his recipe exactly, heeding each direction. Grating carrots, a pinch of cinnamon here, a cup of sugar there. The directions weren’t perfect; Abe didn’t know every measurement or every method, but you filled in the blanks as best you could. The cake went in the oven by the time it was tome for the baked potatoes to come out, and one steak had finished cooking as you placed the other in to cook. Dinner was coming along as smoothly as it could’ve, and once it was finished, you turned your attention back to Abe.

“What would you like first, sir?” you asked. “Dinner, or your presents?”

Abe snooped around the kitchen. The kitchen was filled with the smell of beef and broccoli, and the strong scent of cinnamon from the cake as it sat to cool on the counter. He licked his lips and rubbed his stomach, eyeing all the food laid out on the stove and countertops.

“Dinner first, ladybird,” he’d decided, finally. “The smell’a all this food’s got me hungry. I’d love to see what you got me, but you can make me wait for it. Again.”

You picked up two plates from your cabinet, but at the sound of them clanking against one another, Abe turned around.

“Oh, you’re only gonna need one’a those plates, ladybird. You’ll be eatin’ with me.”

You fixed a plate with the bigger steak of the two, and a baked potato complete with butter, sour cream, bacon, cheese, and green onions. On the side was a healthy pile of steamed broccoli, and you set the plate in front of Abe in your dining room, where he sat with a glass of bourbon that he’d already fixed himself. He turned in his chair to leave his leg exposed, and rubbed his hand against his thigh.

“Right here, doll. Sit.”

Sitting in his lap felt familiar to breakfast, but you missed the warmth of his exposed skin between your legs. You were comfortable nonetheless, and watched as Abe cut into his steak. He spent a couple minutes doing so without taking a bite; nearly the entire steak was cut before he adjusted you in his lap and took a bite. He followed with a forkful of broccoli and baked potato, with a pleasurable moan as his hand rubbed up and down your back.

“This is amazing, sweetheart. It really is. Try it for yourself.”

He loaded up his fork, first with a bite of steak and potato, which he fed to you. He gave you a large piece of broccoli once you’d finished that bite, then continuing to eat himself.

As he ate, his hand trailed down your waist and back around the front of your stomach, then down further toward your thigh and to your knee. He worked his hand up your dress, his hand now touching your bare skin. His fingers tickled between your thighs and worked up to your panties before slipping inside, his fingers working between your lips.

You gasped sharply at the sudden sensation of his fingers around your clit, to which Abe chuckled. He said nothing, only continued to eat with one hand as he worked around your clit and between your wet lips with the other. You writhed and moaned in his lap at his touch, your face warm and your ears hot as he continued. Every now and again he’d offer you bites of food, which you sometimes took, and sometimes refused on account of focusing on his touch. Your toes curled inside of your heels, and your fingernails dug into his thigh through his pants.

By the time Abe only had a few bites left on his plate, you could hardly hold back. Still, Abe said nothing, only watching you twist and arch your back, squeezing your thighs around his own and clawing into his skin. He leaned back in his seat, working his fingers faster, then slower, then faster, teasing you toward orgasm. With a now clean plate, Abe focused his attention on the movement of his fingers, dipping between your lips and around your clit, massaging the warmth between your legs. An intense wave of throbbing sent a pitchy, squeaking moan out of your mouth, toes tightly curled, and thighs squeezed tightly around Abe’s leg. He laughed, continuing to massage you with his fingers through the throbbing, then slowing his pace, dipping his fingers between your lips to coat them in your wetness. He pulled his fingers out of your panties and put them in his mouth, sucking the taste of you off of his fingers, coating his tongue with your wetness. He squeezed his hand against his crotch, leaning back in his chair, and allowing you to stand to straighten your dress.

“Alright, ladybird.” he said. “I think I’m ready for dessert.”

Still in your rose red heels, you made your way to the kitchen, your legs still shaking and tingling from your orgasm just seconds before. You assembled his cake, stacking it, icing it, covering it in the pecans he’d crushed earlier in the day. On top, you lined five candles up in a circle, lighting each with a match. Once the cake was prepared to your liking, you grabbed a plate and a new carton of butter pecan ice cream from your freezer, and made your way back to your dining room.

The orangey-red glow of the candles reflected off of your face as you walked into the room towards Abe. He smiled at the sight of you, cake and ice cream in hand, standing to carry his own cake to the table. Once he sat down, the five flickering candles reflecting off of his eyes, he examined either side of the cake.

“I didn’t realize I was turnin’ five today.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Pritchard. I just didn’t think a hundred candles could fit on the cake.”

Abe laughed, and you soon thereafter felt a pinch on your backside. You jumped, and Abe laughed louder, turning his attention back to your cake.

“I ain’t that old, star,” he said. “Now stop gettin’ smart with me, an’ lemme make my wish.”

Abe closed his eyes in front of the cake, his face covered in the faint glow of the candles, now beginning to drop wax down their sides. His eyes opened, lifting his thick dark lashes, and with a quick puff of air from his mouth, the candles were blown out.

“Now I get to see how you did with this cake.”

You removed the candles from the cake, cutting Abe a sufficiently thick slice of cake and placing it on his plate. Next to it, you place two scoops of butter pecan, and waited for Abe to have a taste.

He sunk a spoon into the cake, cutting paste the cream cheese frosting and the brown, cinnamon laden bread. He made sure to get plenty of pecans in with his bite, and putting it in his mouth, he furrowed his brow. You held your breath and watched while he moved his mouth around slowly and thoughtfully, as if trying to taste each part. He let the icing melt in his tongue, broke the cake apart gently with his teeth, and crunched down on each pecan until you caught a smile spread across his lips.

“That’s a damn perfect cake, ladybird.”

You exhaled with relief, holding your hand over your chest. Abe chuckled and took another bite of his cake, this time with ice cream, and looked up at you.

“I told you you didn’t have anything t’ worry about, didn’t I? I knew you’d do just fine.”

“I know you did, Mr. Pritchard,” you sighed. “But I guess now we’ll see if you like your presents as much as you like the cake.”

Leaving Abe to sit and eat for a short while, you cleaned up a little, putting dishes in the sink and putting the ice cream back in the freezer. Afterwards, you headed upstairs to your bedroom. You’d stashed the presents under your bed, and wrapped all three of them between cooking Abe’s dinner and cake. You brought them downstairs and set them in front of Abe, pressing one gift forward for him to open first.

Abe put his spoon down to grab the present and shake it next to his ear, listening for any hint for what it could be. The package was heavy and cube shaped, but as he unwrapped it, he smiled wide.

“You got me one’a my own little video cameras, huh? And some little tapes. You were that scared I was gonna break yours?”

You pouted playfully, and Abe rubbed his hand up and down along your back.

“I’m messin’ with you, doll. I really appreciate it.”

He gave you a peck on the cheek before moving on to his next present. Shaking this one, it was equally heavy, and the packaging somewhat bigger. The wrapping paper shredded and ripped as Abe got to the present box, and he opened the lid to see a pair of white heels. He was confused at first, but after urging him to continue on to the last present, he got the idea.

“You told me to get something nice for myself,” you said. “So I got something I knew you’d enjoy, too.”

The last gift was much lighter than the two before, and shaking it revealed a soft shuffling within. Inside was a set of lingerie; white stockings with bows, white garter belt, panties, and a flowing white babydoll top. Abe could hardly contain his excitement, “oooing” and marveling at each piece of lingerie in the set. He leaned back in his seat, one hand on his spoon and the other resting over his crotch, and licked his lips.

“How about you strip for me, an’ show me how that looks on you?”

You started by kicking off your heels. You then reached up your back to unzip your dress and untie the bow that secured the dress behind your neck. While you pulled it slowly to the floor, you kept your eyes on Abe, who continued to eat his cake and ice cream and watch. He squeezed himself through his pants, biting and licking his lips anxiously. You began to slide your panties to the floor, but Abe stopped you.

“No, no, no, sweetheart,” he cooed. “Keep those on. I ain’t done with ‘em yet.”

You pulled the panties back up around your hips, and began to put on the lingerie piece by piece. Right stocking, left stocking, right heel, left heel. Abe watched, his hand migrating up towards his belt.

Soon, the entire outfit was on, heels and all. You spun in place for Abe, offering yourself to his eager eyes as he ate spoonful after spoonful of his cake. Without him asking, you got down on your knees, crawling up between his legs, grazing your teeth against his inner thighs. You teased his length with your tongue, much to his pleasure; he tilted head back with a groan and a laugh, biting his bottom lip as he watched you grovel.

“You know what I always loved about you, ladybird?” he asked, pulling the leather strap of his belt out of the buckle, “You always know exactly what I want. And you know exactly how t’ give it t’ me. And for an old dog like me, there ain’t nothin’ in this world sexier than a woman who knows how t’ please her man.”

He finished unbuckling and unzipping his pants, leaving you to do the rest. No sooner than your fingers slid inside of his boxers, it was apparent that he was already hard, to which you couldn’t help but smile.

“I don’t think you’ve ever let me see you when you’re not already at attention.”

“Well,” he reasoned, “What d’you expect a man t’ do when you’re always dressed up an’ ready t’ give me that sweet little mouth’a yours?”

You started by running your tongue along the underside of his shaft, stopping at the top to suckle on his head. Your eyes remained fixated on Abe’s as you licked, kissed and suckled, and he stared back, watching your tongue work, bucking his hips back and forth to slide his cock against your wettened lips.

“How about you wrap those beautiful lips around my balls too, sweetheart?”

Heeding his command, you reached your hand into his boxers to pull out his balls. While you stroked his shaft with one hand, you massaged his balls with the other, licking and sucking them into your mouth. As you worked, Abe slid his hand behind your neck, holding you firmly in place.

“There you go, doll. Just like that. You like the way those taste, don’t you?”

You moaned back a “yes, sir” before putting your tongue back to work, suckling each ball, one after the other, swirling your tongue in circles on either side. Abe watched intently, still holding you in place, but now turning his attention back toward his half-eaten cake. He took a couple bites, but stopped suddenly, lifting your head from between your legs.

He said nothing more, but took smeared a glob of icing on his finger. He wiped it on the base of his shaft, then went in for more. He placed small dollop after dollop up the length of his cock, then left two more on either side of his balls, Once he was done, he licked the excess icing from his finger and leaned back in his chair.

“Clean all of that up for me, darlin’. Take your time.”

Starting from the bottom, you sucked one ball into your mouth, letting the icing smear against your tongue. You continued to suckle and lick until the cream was gone, and continued more until the taste of sugar disappeared. Only then did you move on to the next ball, then to the base of his shaft, licking up every dot of icing he’d placed on himself. Abe sighed out a moan as you worked your way towards his head, and once you reached the final dot of icing, smeared just beneath the tip of his cock, you felt his fingers squeeze against the back of your neck. He sighed out a groan once you were finished, loosening his grip on your neck.

“That’s my girl,” he moaned. “Now show me how much’a me you can fit in that pretty little mouth.”

Tongue lapping against his head, you started by sucking the tip of Abe’s cock. He kept his grip on your neck firm, guiding your head to push you down farther and farther each time your head bobbed down. You massaged his shaft with your tongue, allowing streams of your spit to drip past your lips, down his length, and onto his balls. Abe moved his hand up to the back of your head, taking another bite of his cake and ice cream. He bucked his hips up, sending his cock closer to the back of your throat. He did this several times, all the while placing pressure on the back of your head to keep your head in place. One final thrust sent every inch of him down your throat, making your body recoil with a spit-dripping gag. Abe released his grip on your head completely, allowing you to lift your head and clear your throat, but not without an amused chuckle and a grin.

“Looks like your mouth still ain’t used t’ how big I am. Try it again.”

You regained your composure and tried again. His shaft was glistening with spit and drool, falling in streams down his length and onto his balls, some of it pooling in the dining room chair. You went slower this time, licking and twisting your head, working your way down an extra half inch each time you bobbed your head down. You were able to make it to the base of his shaft without gagging this time, and Abe allowed you to catch your breath before holding the back of your head with both hands.

He thrusted his hips upwards towards his chair, using his hands to hold your head steady. The sound of spit sloshing in your mouth was audible was each of his upwards thrusts. You gripped into his thighs and held your breath, allowing him to use your mouth as he pleased. Once you ran out of breath, your full body recoiled again with another gag, prompting Abe to again let go.

“So big you can hardly handle it, ain’t it?”

You swallowed and caught your breath.

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s what I thought. But I know you like it big, anyway.”

You took a small break before going back in for more, teasing and licking around his balls and the base of his shaft. Abe watched, now with his arms crossed, allowing you to move at your own pace. Before you could focus your attention back on sucking him off, your telephone rang. You continued massage Abe with your tongue for a few seconds, but hearing that the phone wasn’t going to stop ringing, you stood and walked toward the phone.

When you answered, your blood ran cold.

“Hello?”

“Hi, darlin’. I’m sorry t’ bother you so late. It’s just I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about us bumpin’ into each other earlier today. Is Abraham there?”

You peered back at Abe in the dining room, who was still sitting down in his seat. He made the shape of a phone with his hands and mouthed to ask who it was. You mouthed back her name, and pointed at your ring finger, to which Abe rolled his eyes and rubbed his temples.

“He’s here, ma’am.”

“Would you mind passin’ him the phone? The kids really wanted t’ wish him a happy birthday.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You walked slowly back into the dining room, trying to quiet the noise of your heels clicking against hard wood. Abe took the phone from your extended hand, and you turned to leave. Before you could take more than a step, Abe gripped his hand around your wrist. He tugged you back down on your knees in front of him, and positioned his cock back in front of your mouth, tapping it against your lips. As he spoke on the phone, you timidly continued to lick just beneath his head, able to hear his conversation clearly.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Abraham.”

Abe paused to glance down at you.

“D. Hey. Wasn’t expectin’ t’ hear from you today.”

“I know. But I wanted to wish you a happy birthday.”

He pushed your head down his shaft, stopping halfway, guiding your head up and down. He closed his eyes and bit his lip, fighting back a moan.

“Thank you, D.”

“You’re welcome. The sitter said you asked her to bake you a cake. Was it okay?”

“Oh, it was wonderful,” Abe said. He strained through his words, fighting back another moan as you worked his cock deeper down your throat.

“She did an amazin’ job. Just perfect.”

“That’s good,” Diana said. “I’m glad. I know you’re hard to please.”

“Am I? I think I’m a simple man. I’ll eat just about anything.”

Abe winked in your direction and smirked. A sigh from Diana was audible over the phone, and a short pause, before you heard her voice again, still massaging Abe with your tongue.

“Anyway, the boys wanted to wish you happy birthday. I’ll hand the phone over t’ them. Goodnight, Abraham.”

“Night, D.”

There was another pause, with shuffling over the line, then the voice of Noah over the phone.

“Hi, dad.”

“Hey, Noah. Are you behavin’ out there with your mom?”

“Why d’you think I’m always bein’ bad? I’ve been really good. I saw the babysitter today.”

“I know, she told me. Was there somethin’ you wanted t’ tell me?”

“Oh, yeah! Hold on.”

There was a pause on the line, then the sound of the boys whispering a countdown into the phone. On three, you heard a loud and screeching “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” from both boys. It was loud enough that Abe pulled the phone away from his ear momentarily, with an exasperated smile.

“Thank you, boys. I think I might be deaf now, but thank you.”

“Momma said the babysitter cooked you a cake. Is that true?” asked Noah.

“It is.”

Jackson’s voice cut in.

“Was it your favorite carrot cake? When we saw her today, I saw carrots and stuff in her cart.”

“Good on you, Jackson. Very smart. Yes, it was.”

“She’s such a nice lady. I love her.”

Abe looked down at you, with a cheeky smile, and bit his lip.

“She is a nice girl, isn’t she?”

Both of the boys agreed in unison, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Alright,” Abe started. “It’s late. You boys oughta be in bed. Y’all behave with your mom, you understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” they both replied.

“Good. Now, what’s that scripture I always tell y’all? The one about honorin’ your parents.”

Again, the kids spoke in unison.

“Honor thy father and they mother, that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord, thy God, giveth thee.”

“Exodus, chapter twenty, verse twelve,” Jackson added.

“Good. Very good. Now y’all go t’ bed. Thank you for the birthday wishes. And uh, tell your mother…”

Abe paused to think, stroking his hand over his goatee, then caressing your cheek.

“Tell your mother I said, uh… I hope she has a nice time on vacation. Okay?”

“Okay,” said the boys.

“Good. Goodnight, you two.”

With a “Night, dad,” from Noah and a “Goodnight, daddy,” from Jackson, Abe hung up. He stared at the phone for several moments, then cracked a smile, then broke into a bout a full belly laughter. His smile lines crowded around his mouth, and the wrinkles around his eyes deepened, and he wiped away a tear before calming himself down.

“That wasn’t funny, God,” he chuckled, staring up into your chandelier. “It really wasn’t. I’m sorry. I will fall t’ my knees and repent soon enough. But it was pretty damn funny.”

Abe glanced back down at you, who had continued to suck and lick him throughout the conversation, he lifted your head by the chin, and ran his thumb over your lips.

“And you, ladybird. You almost gave everything away just now.”

“I thought you wanted me to keep going, big guy.”

“I did. But my God, birdie. You don’t know how hard it was not t’ make a sound.”

Abe scanned the room for a moment, then settled his eyes on one of his other presents.

“Doll.”

“Yes, sir?”

He reached over the table for the camcorder you’d bought for him, turning it every which way in his hands.

“Show me how t’ work this damn thing. I wanna try somethin’ really special t’night.”

You helped set up the camera for Abe, which only took several minutes. The battery from the package wasn’t yet charged, so you put in one of your own charged spares. You put in a blank tape for him, turned on the camera, and handed it back.

“There. It should be going now.”

Abe slipped his hand through the safety strap and looked through the viewfinder. The red record button blinked red, and he pointed the lens at your face.

“There you are, beautiful. Yeah, I see you just fine.”

He angled the lens down your body, filming you as you stood before him in your white lingerie. While guiding the camera back up toward your face, he revealed his intentions.

“I wanna film everything this time, star,” he whispered. “All sorts’a stuff. Anywhere we c’n manage.”

He passes the camera to you, and before you can get a steady view through the viewfinder, he picks you up and sits you on the table. He kisses down your neck gripping your sides, pulling your hips closer. But then, he lays you down on your back, standing between your legs.

He reached over the table for his carrot cake, and on his finger took a smear of cream cheese frosting. He spread it on your thigh, then went in for another. And another. And another. He smeared icing on your thighs, then spread the opening of your babydoll top apart to spread icing on your stomach. He placed a final spot of icing on your chest, then dipped his head between your legs.

“Point the camera at that beautiful body’a yours, bird.”

Abe licked off the icing in the same order he’d put it on. Trailing his tongue up your inner thighs, then your upper thighs. Leaving a trail of his pit up your stomach and he sucked up each white streak of icing. His goatee left goosebumps wherever it touched, tickling your stomach, making you squirm. You switched between watching him through the camera and with your own eyes as he traveled up your body with his mouth. He soon got to the last dab of icing spreading his tongue over your chest, and groaning with pleasure at the taste of your icing mixed with the taste of your skin. The scent of his cologne wafted into your nose as he stood upright, satisfied now with how thoroughly he’d cleaned your body.

“Alright, pretty girl. Gimme that camera back.”

Abe took the camera from your hand, standing between your legs. He pointed the camera at your thighs, taking a couple steps backwards. He then slid off your heels, setting them on the dining room table. He grabbed both of your feet, placing them on either side of his shaft, and began to thrust, forward and back. The skin of his cock tugged against your stocking, and his head popped in and out of view between your feet. The sensation of his skin rubbing the soles of your feet was ticklish, and your body squirmed playfully on the dining room table. He filmed all the while, holding your feet with one hand and the camera with the other, allowing several minutes for your feet to do the work.

Once satisfied with that, he spread your legs apart. His fingers teased outside of your panties, which were again becoming hot and wet. He petted your pussy with his fingers, then brought his fingers to his nose for a deep inhale, taking in your scent. He groaned with pleasure, tugging your panties to the side.

“You smell even better than you did this mornin’,” he said. “I told you keepin’ those panties on was a good idea.”

Without another word, he slid one finger inside of you. You couldn’t help but moan, and the feeling of finally having some part of him inside of you flushed your body with a wave of warmth. He watched you arch your back, moving in rhythm with his finger, then slid in a second. He looked at your through the viewfinder, your wet and spreading pussy lips, your toes curling in your sheer white stockings. The slick sound of your wetness against his skin was audible as Abe brought the camera in for a close-up. His fingers glistened, as did your clit, and in the middle of your panties was a large wet spot. He continued to finger you for a while longer, before pulling his fingers back out of you.

“There we go. Now I can get t’ what I really wanted.”

He slid his fingers back between your legs, but this time, focused on your ass. He prodded with one finger at your entrance, pushing his way through. You moaned louder this time, your asshole squeezing tight around his finger, but had little time to recover before you felt his cock slide into your pussy. He thrusted forward with his hips and fingers in opposite order; the farther his cock pushed into you, stretching your dripping wet walls, the more he pulled his finger out of your second hole. As Abe thrusted and moaned, trying his best to keep a good view for the camera, he began to tease a second finger at your hole. He allowed the wetness of your pussy to trickle down as lube, and once he was confident enough that your body was ready for it, he slid in a second finger.

Your body felt full now, with Abe stretching you out from both ends. Your face was warm, your legs tingled, and your toes curled inside of your stockings. You steadied yourself, grabbing on to the edge of your dining room table, your body lurching backward each time Abe thrusted forward. Soon, however, Abe stopped, pulling his cock out of your pussy, soaked in glistening wetness that reflected the light from the chandelier above.

“D’you think you c’n handle me in here now? Or am I still too big?”

He pressed the head of his cock between your asscheeks, to which your body involuntarily jerked.

“You can try. I don’t know if it’s gonna fit.”

He turned the camera on himself, smirking into the lens.

“Alright, then. Let’s try.”

He took his time rocking his hips forward and back, teasing his head around your hole. Each thrust got him a little closer to getting inside, but not without some degree of discomfort.

“How is it, ladybird?”

“It’s okay,” you breathed. “Keep going.”

He continued to press his way farther and farther into you, his shaft still practically dripping with your wetness. With one last thrust, and a “pop” you felt inside of you, his head had pushed its way in.

“You still alright?”

“Yes, daddy,” you moaned. “Give it to me.”

“You’re somethin’ else, bird. You really are.”

He pushed his way slowly inside of you, gently pulling out and trying again each time he was met with resistance. You were flooded with a combination of pleasure and discomfort, which only sent you moaning and squirming when you felt him stretching your walls. With patience, however, he’d worked most of himself inside of your ass, and rubbed his fingers over your stomach to comfort you.

“There you go, sweetheart. You’re doin’ real good.”

He kept his pace slow and steady, and kept the camera pointed between your legs. You closed your eyes and allowed him to do his work, comfortable with the care and control he had over your body. He pulled back at every sign of your discomfort, and kept one hand always on his stomach, stroking with his thumb to keep you comfortable. You gripped his wrist with both hands, soothed by his touch, moaning in rhythm with the rocking of his hips. Abe himself moaned freely, picking up his pace when he felt you were comfortable.

The sensation was new to you, and new to Abe, too. He guided each thrust carefully, glancing away from the camera to stare at your glowing body, clothed in white.

“And I thought that little pussy of yours was tight,” he teased. “I didn’t expect it t’ feel this different.”

“Bad different?”

“Far from it, angel. It’s perfect. Wet. Tight. Feels amazin’. Just like the rest’a you.”

With time, Abe was able to work a couple more inches of himself inside of you. Every stroke sent more chills up your spine than the last. Minutes passed of moaning, from Abe’s mouth and your own, and the low creak of your dining room table as your body bounced back and forth. You reached your hand between your legs, stroking your own throbbing clit. Abe noticed your desire, moving your hand aside and replacing it with his own. As he thrusted, his thumb worked in wet, sticky circles around your clit. You stared up into the chandelier above, then closed your eyes. Everything, from your head to your toes, felt warm. The smell of carrot cake wafted into your nose. Everything felt just as Abe had described it; perfect.

Abe’s gentle touch migrated up towards your breast, giving it a tight squeeze before he began to slow his pace again, looking away from the camera and instead at you.

“You are one special girl. But I think maybe we should switch things up again. For the camera.”

You reached your fingers between your legs, stroking between your own wettened lips.

“It’s your birthday. Where would you like to go, Mr. Pritchard?”

Abe smirked.

“The last time we fucked on a couch, we got interrupted, didn’t we?” he said. “The very first time we ever did anything like this.”

He leaned the camera closer, getting a long shot of your body.

“I think we should finish what we started back then.”

He held out his hand for you to grab, allowing you to stand to your feet. You walked to the living room, waiting for him on the couch while he rinsed himself off. Once he returned, he set the camera on your coffee table.

“Before we start, I’d like to ask you somethin’.”

“Anything you want, sir.”

“I want you t’ take the reins for a little while. Show me what kinda young girl tricks you got up your sleeve.”

You smirked to yourself, and looked around the room. Still on the couch next to you was his bathrobe from earlier in the morning. You pulled the rope from his bathrobe out of the loops and wrapped it around one hand, then stood to face Abe. Pulling his dress shirt from his pants, unbuttoning each button, uncuffing his sleeves and rolling his shirt up to his elbows. You tugged his belt to get him on his knees on the floor, where you tie his hands behind his back and lay him down. Abe allows you to do all of those, without a word of objection, only smirks and chuckles at your sudden exercise of power.

Without saying anything more, you straddled his face, your body facing out toward his waist and legs. You settled yourself comfortable, using his mouth as your seat, feeling huffs of breath between your legs as he breathed.

He took little time getting to work. He lapped his tongue between your lips through your panties, and trailed his tongue further upward towards your taint and ass. His cheeks were warm and smooth between your thighs, freshly shaven, with a hint of aftershave still evident. Each prickly hair of his goatee was like a pinpricked jolt of electricity, sending tingles through your legs and up your spine. You settled your hands on his chest to steady yourself, and through his shirt you should feel his cross necklace. You stroked over it with your thumb, eyes closed, as you enjoyed the sensation of his tongue.

Leaning forward, you began to reciprocate. As Abe licked between your legs, his arms still restrained, you bent over to lick and suck his cock. You teased at first, leaving only kisses and shy licks along his shaft, but soon moved on to sucking the head, moving further down to allow half of him down your throat, and taunting him every now and again with deepthroat, which only lasted a second before you pulled back up, forcing him to wait for the next one.

The camera on the table caught it all. Every lick, every kiss, every moan, and every breath. You felt Abe growing impatient, his gently placed licks turning into bites and tugs at your panties to pull them aside, eager to get a taste of all of you. You sat up slightly to give him room to talk.

“Alright,” he said, pulling his mouth away just far enough to speak, “You had your little fun. Now how ‘bout you take these cute little panties off so I can really get at it?”

You shift from side to side, feeling the warmth of his mouth between your legs, tracing up and down his stomach with your fingertips.

“I think I’ll keep them on for now, sir. Make you wait a little while longer.”

Abe laughed for a short while, and spoke once he’d regained his composure.

“Okay,” he chuckled. “Fair play. We’ll see where this little stunt’a yours gets you later on t’night.”

“I’m sure I can take a little revenge.”

“Okay, ladybird,” he teased. “Whatever you say. But it’s my birthday. And I ain’t got a problem remindin’ you who runs the show around here.”

You sat back down, where you stayed for several more minutes. You no longer pleasured him with your mouth; only stroked his shaft with his hand, with the occasional bout of verbal teasing. “Good boy,” you’d say. “You’re doing so well. You feel so good”. Abe said nothing, but continued exploring you with his tongue, until finally, you sat up and got off of him.

“Should I untie you now, sir?”

Abe sat himself up, with a sly laugh.

“You’re damn right you should. You had your little fun. I liked it. Now we c’n really see how good you are at takin’ revenge.”

Almost as soon as you untied him, he pulled you by the arm to sit you on the couch. He placed his hands on either side of your panties and yanked, ripping them off of your body and clutching them in his palm.

“Sorry about that. I’ll buy you a pretty new pair t’ make up for it.”

Abe teased his head between the lips of your pussy, but didn’t yet push inside. He unraveled your torn panties in his hand, pushing them up to his nose and inhaling deeply. He moaned on his exhale, then inhaled again, with another long, groaning exhale.

With one more swift movement your torn underwear were in his mouth. His spit seeped into each thread of lace as he tasted you. His tongue swirled around the fabric, touching and rubbing every inch he could reach. He rocked his hips forward and back all the while, sliding his cock between the lips of your aching, wet pussy.

Once he’d gotten his fill, tasting, touching, and smelling your day-old underwear, he removed them from his mouth. Before he tossed them aside to move on, he wrapped the now-soaked panties around his cock. His hand stroked slowly up and down, the soiled fabric leaving his cock glinting with the wetness of you both

“I might just have t’ take this pair home with me,” he said, his hand still guiding the fabric up and down his shaft, and down towards his balls. “They taste and smell like heaven. Here. You try.”

He leaned forward, stuffing the panties into your mouth. In short order, he positioned you on your hands and knees, and was almost immediately inside of you. Your moan came out as a muffled, high-pitched shriek, and Abe licked his lips, leaning over to grab his camera.

“C’mon now, star. I ain’t even got t’ the good part yet.”

He pushed your head down into the couch cushions, and fucked you with a force that ran opposite to what you’d experienced just before on the dining room. With the same rope you’d tied him with, he tied your hands behind your back, continuing to thrust in and out of your pussy. You could faintly hear his necklace jangling against itself in his shirt, and closed your eyes to enjoy every sensation. You could taste yourself on your own panties. You could taste Abe, and his bourbon-cinnamon tainted breath. As he thrusted, you heard every grunt, moan, and groan that escaped his lips. You yourself couldn’t help but moan, your hands clenched in fists behind your back, and your mouth ajar, spilling with tattered white lace.

“Look at how tight that young little pussy is,” he said. “How’re you still that tight after fuckin’ someone as big as me this often?”

The only response you could muster was a moan, stifled by lace, as Abe continued to thrust and film. The wet slapping of his balls against your pussy, just barely grazing against your clit, caused your eyes to roll and your toes to curl. The longer he went on, the harder his thrusts became, the words from his mouth growing more intense.

“You like that big dick, don’t you, ladybird? Look at how wet this is. It’s like you can’t get enough of me.”

Your moans grew louder and more strained. He felt so good it was nearly painful; and each time he spoke, in his low, gruff voice, you only wanted him more. Despite his roughness with you, Abe’s actions spoke the same; he moaned aloud, groaning every pet name for you that he had. Babydoll. Ladybird. Sweetheart. Angel. Little Star.

“Jesus, sweet pea. Goddamn, you’re perfect. Moan nice and loud for the camera. Let everybody hear how good I make you feel.”

You lost yourself in his touch, and the sensation of him stretching your walls, so much that you hardly realized when a gush of wetness sprayed out of you, onto Abe’s shirt, and onto the couch. It trickled slowly down your thighs, and Abe pulled out to film it. He touched between your legs, first with his fingers, then with his mouth, to taste all the liquid that had squirted out of you. Once he was satisfied, filming from every angle, he untied your hands and stood up from the couch, with a firm smack on your backside. He pulled your panties from your mouth and shoved them in his pocket.

“Let’s take this someplace else, star. Somewhere special.”

You lifted your head slowly from the couch, struggling to regain your composure. Your arms shook beneath you as you sat up, and your legs quivered beneath you as you stood.

“Where to, sir?”

“D’you think we could make it outside without gettin’ caught?”

A wave of vigor and adrenaline washed over you and Abe both. He zipped and buckled his pants with fervor to cover himself, while you grabbed his bathrobe from the couch to cover up. With you both sufficiently covered, he opened the front door. He peered outside, looking for any sign of any living soul walking down the street, or peering out of a window. He saw none, and reached backward for your hand.

“Alright, bird. Follow me.”

You took his hand, and he led you around to the side of your home, where his truck was parked. It was backed in so that the front pointed towards the street, with the back facing your backyard. He led you around to the bed of the truck, picking you up to place you inside before climbing in himself. He slid back to sit with his back against his rear window shield, set the camera beside him, and pulled you into his lap. He reached his hand down his shirt to pull out his chain, and out with it came the cross he wore over his heart. He flipped it over to examine the back of it, rubbing his thumb over the engraved star.

“Look up there,” he said. “All those stars out tonight. Ain’t it pretty?”

You turned around in his lap to look at what he saw. Above the tree line of your backward were hundreds of white dots, set against a dark indigo sky. The sky was clear, without a cloud in sight, and the moon shone bright on the two of you, bathing you both in dusky moonlight.

“You know, darlin’,” he thought aloud, “I’ve been wonderin’. I like callin’ you my little star. I just can’t decide if you’re one of those stars up there, or if all those stars are just a little piece’a you.”

You smiled and stared into his eyes, in which you could just barely see the reflection of the moon. Your hands wrapped behind his neck, running through his thick, dark hair. His gray hairs shone light blue in the moonlight as your kissed, tugging his hair with your fingers. His hands wrapped around your back with a gentle squeeze, pulling you closer to his body, and deeper into the kiss. Abe pulled away from the kiss first, opening his eyes to look at the diamond star that hung over your chest. He untied the front ribbon of your babydoll top, exposing both of your breasts to the cool evening air. He cupped one breast in his hand, grazing over your nipple with his fingers, suckling on the other. As his mouth worked, you slid his blue plaid shirt off of his shoulders, exposing his plain white tee. He stopped momentarily to pull it the rest of the way off, setting it aside in his truck bed.

Before returning his focus to you, Abe leaned over to adjust the camera, using his now-removed plaid shirt to prop it up. Trailing kisses up the side of your neck, he unzipped his pants, leaving his belt buckled, and took out his cock. As he slid it in, you both moaned, closing your eyes to the sound of crickets and each other’s pleasured breaths.

You rode Abe slowly, rising and falling in his lap at your own sensual pace. He allowed you to go as slow as you pleased, letting his hands wander up your chest to caress your breasts, around your back to trail up your spine, and down to your waist to guide you gently. His eyes were transfixed on your face, and his voice was soft and nearly breathless.

“You’re so beautiful,” he moaned. “I’m a damn lucky man t’ have you.”

While you rode him, you slid one hand up his shirt to feel his stomach. It was warm to the touch, and coated in the fine hairs you’d come to love. Your hand traversed upwards still to his chest, where you grabbed hold of his cross. You flipped it on its back to look at the star, then looked up yourself at the stars above. With Abe inside of you, and his hands squeezing your hips, and his graying hair between your fingers, you stared into the stars. Each star twinkled in the sky, some bright, some barely there, and some coasting somewhere in the middle. You stared up at the moon, white and full, overtaking the sky. All of these sights, and the sound of Abe’s truck gently rocking as you rocked, the touch of his gentle hands, the taste of his lips, which reeked of carrot cake and bourbon. All of this you took in at once, riding Abe slowly, letting him feel every inch of wetness inside of you. All of this for your boss. All of this for a father. All of this for an estranged husband. All of this for a birthday.

“I love you, star.”

The words sent a jolt through your chest, but now wasn’t the time to debate them or object. You only moaned. Abe seemed to catch himself by surprise, too, as he tried to correct himself.

“I love this, I mean. What we have right now. I’ve never had a birthday like this.”

His goatee tickled your skin while he kissed up your neck. Abe’s squeeze on your hips grew tighter, and he guided your movements to be gradually faster. You slid your hands up and down his arms, feeling each mole and hair, touching each freckle, tracing the now-bulging veins in his forearms. He moaned, tilting his head up to look up at the sky, then back at you.

“I’m gettin’ close, little star,” he moaned. “Real close.”

You buried your face into his neck, breathing in his cologne and hours old aftershave. His moans turned into groans the closer he came to release, until finally, with a final few strokes, you felt his cum, warm and gushing inside of you. A vein in his neck bulged, his arms and shoulders tightened, and he continued to grind your hips against his shaft, slowly, through his orgasm. He closed his eyes for a while, squeezed shut with furrowed brows, his just barely open, letting the most intense waves pass.

After several long seconds, his cum oozing out of you, dripping back down his shaft and onto his black pants, he opened his eyes. They were the deep brown that they always were, tinted blue under the night sky. He smiled, wrapped his arms around your waist, and kissed your lips one last time. The kiss was slow and sweet, and lasted for what felt like hours. Carrot cake flavored, cologne and bourbon scented, moonlight shaded hours.

You helped Abe stop the recording and eject the tape. From his pocket, Abe pulled out a black marker. He pulled off the cap with his teeth, then wrote on the front label of the tape.

“Shooting Star.”

He stared at the label for a while, then up into the night sky, at the thousands of stars that surrounded you both.

“It’s been a long time since I seen a shootin’ star. So thank you. For showin’ me one t’night.”

“It’s your birthday. I just did what I could.”

Abe smiled and leaned in for one last kiss on your lips, then kissed your cheek. He glanced down at his watch, then, grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers between your own, still gazing up, with wide brown eyes, at the starlight above.

“It’s still my birthday for another hour or so,” he said. “I did have one more birthday wish. If you don’t mind makin’ it come true for me, star.”

You said nothing, but tilted your head and smiled to let him know you were listening.

“I’d like t’ sit in your living room. Lay next t’ you, under that big white blanket you got. Eat some more cake an’ ice cream.”

Abe smirked, tapping his fingers against his newly named tape.

“An’ watch a shootin’ star.”

#bri's writing

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meshugana1 · 7 years ago

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Can you have my girlfriend turn me into a submissive ballerina girl dancing en pointe after I insult her dancing when she is showing me what she learnt?

Payton was beyond excited when she entered the doorway to her apartment and immediately tossed her bag on the couch next to her boyfriend and initiated a series of pirouette’s around the living room and circled the couch then moved into her adagio movements. Her boyfriend sat on the couch disinterested with his dancing girlfriend, far more interested in progressing in his game. Cade had never been interested in her outside the bedroom and he hardly paid attention to her wants, dreams, thoughts, and feelings. He was an imposing man with dark hair and relied on the charity of those around him to maintain his lifestyle, Payton wasn’t wise to his game when they met and he took full advantage worming his way into her home.

She ended her demonstration with an assemblé and posed beautifully in front of him. He remained oblivious to her and leaned to catch a better view of the television screen. Her excitement died and she let her arms fall. Ballet was something she had wanted for a very long time but it was considered a little too girlish even in their small town, she had all but given up hope when a studio opened up in the main square. It was small and didn’t have much of a class but Payton had leaped at the chance to try one of her dreams. The woman that ran it was a little past middle aged but still had the trim figure of a prima ballerina, she had once been just that until the inevitable happened and she retired to this small town to spread her passion for the art. As it stood Payton was her only regular student and listened to her ballet mistress like a nun listened to the gospel.

“Babe, could ya move outta the way?” Cade said not even bothering with eye contact and expectant for her compliance.“What did you think?” Payton said.“Of what?”“My dancing? My ballet…I think it’s coming along real nice don’t you?”“Are you really still doing that shit? How much is she charging you to go to a room with a mirror and bounce up and down a whole bunch?”“That’s not ballet Cade and you know it. C’mon, just tell me what you thought.”“Would you shut up and move? I’m almost past this level.”“Why won’t you just tell me what you thought? You play this stupid game all the time,” she said now actively trying to disrupt his view, “just tell me what you thought it’ll only take a second.”“Get outta the way!” He said but the damage was done and he watched his on-screen avatar die brutally and he felt his annoyance turn to rage. He threw his controller on the ground, cracking its hard plastic and sending the buttons flying then rose to his feet in front of her, she was trembling as she had yet to see this side of him.

“Fuck! You wanna know what I think of your stupid dancing shit? Fine! You fucking suck at it! You look like you’re having a fucking seizer and I’m completely humiliated to even be near you when you’re doing it. Fuck, it feels like I’m being turned gay with how fuckin’ girly that shit is. Now thank’s to you I gotta go buy a new controller, now get outta the way.” He roughly moves past her and she can hear his truck rumble to life and speed away. She felt empty as the tears formed in her eyes, she could feel them trickle down her cheek but she didn’t feel sad. That came a moment later as she squatted in her tutu and held herself. She didn’t know who to talk to so she left and walked the distance back to her ballet studio in a blurred haze.

She felt hands take her shoulders and was relieved to see her ballet mistress asking what was wrong. All her restrained emotions came pouring out and the old dance teacher held her and listened to the whole sordid affair. After Payton had calmed down some her mistress when and brewed her some tea and told her a little bit about herself, Payton was awed by the bombshell she had shared with her but a smile crept up her face when the older woman made a suggestion that would be quite beneficial to them both.

Cade was disquieted by his outburst, not from any genuine remorse but because he may have allowed his temper to threaten his situation. He had plans for these sorts of happenings though and made a quick trip to a florist to buy her some roses, no other flower seemed to fix this sort of screwup like roses. He pulled out his phone to give her a call to apologize and recommend a romantic evening, it always seemed more genuine with a phone call as it came off like it just occurred to him and that it isn’t rehearsed. It was unnecessary though as she had called him, she was going on the offensive and wouldn’t even let him speak before she told him that if they wanted to stay together he needed to meet her at her ballet studio right away. He said yes with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, he was not looking forward to watching her flop around with that shit but if it got him back in her good graces then he could stomach it for a bit.

He pulled in to the parking lot finding it totally empty as he took a space and forced a smile, armed with his bundle of roses he confidently made his into the building. He saw her still in her precious tutu and an older woman stood beside her in a dark singlet. “Hey babe,” he said starting first hoping to seems like the one who initiated the forgiveness, “I just wanted to say first off that it was really wrong of me to fly off the handle like that. You didn’t deserve it, and I got you these to show how much I mean it.” He handed her the flowers and her face showed a little confusion as she looked at her instructor, she returned with a glance communicating confidence and a pat on her shoulder. She shook her head and said “Cade, you’re a terrible boyfriend. You treat me like a burden and you only care about yourself, thankfully I have a wonderful teacher who has a solution that could benefit everybody.”“And what’s that?” He said, incredulity dripping from his words.“You’re gonna join the studio!”“Yeah, right. You can go ahead and dance on your little tutu all you like but I will be dead before you see me dancing like that.” He said. It was the instructor who piped up next.

“We shall see.” She said, she then rose her hand and snapped her fingers much more loudly than Cade had ever heard someone do before. Suddenly the layabout found his back had straightened out instantly and his feet came together at the heels and his toes pointed away from each other on a perfect line. His arms were where held in front of his chest with his elbows bent forming a semicircle. “That is called ‘first position’ but I’m afraid your ratty clothes are ruining your pose. Let’s fix that,” she said and snapped her fingers again. Cade watched as his clothes rippled and reformed on his body from loose fitting and comfortable to skin tight. He wanted to yelp as he was now dressed in the same sissy outfit his girlfriend wore! His powerful legs were encased in white hosiery that covered his legs and pelvic area completely. His feet were wrapped in pink slippers that had bows decorating the toe. He couldn’t see the bulge of his manhood or his muscular ass through the pink, glittery tutu that was wrapped around his waist. His eyes bulged at the image he imagined he gave off below it and was still embarrassed by the top that covered only his belly and pecs, clearly it was intended for a woman which pained him even more.

His muscles burned at the odd angle they were forced to maintain but as with most things he adjusted, much to his dismay. “Well, I think we’re on the right track cut that disgusting body hair has to go.” She snapped her fingers again and he felt all the hair his body had spent years growing pull back inside of him and leave every inch of him as smooth as a baby’s bottom save for his head and eyebrows. Even his proud bush of pubic hair was no more and though he couldn’t see it he looked like a child down there. He could hear his former girlfriend laughing her ass off as the instructor stroked her chin looking him over. “Still no good, all this unsightly muscle and fat. Not to mention this little thing,” she said raising her foot to stroke his shaft with her slipper, “you seem like the type of loser to get off on people paying attention to you so I’m going to need to make a few more changes.” He closed his eyes but heard the snap of her magical fingers anyway and if he wasn’t being held in place her surely would’ve collapsed from the alienness of the sensations racking his body.

He felt his hair, each strand feeling like it was being pulled out and lengthened to below his shoulders. Her muscles felt like they were boiling and he could see them shrink and leave him with scrawny little arms and legs. His chest did not shrink and he counted his blessings, but it was premature as he saw them plump up and gain several inches that were undeniably breasts. They weren’t big but they were very noticeable considering how large and erect his nipples were. He felt his cock grow hard as his breathing caused the sensitive nubs to rub his dress and send erotic shivers all over him. He felt his panties dig into the crack of his ass as his derrière plumped up and gave him an incredible ass that could only be described as perfect. He felt his face mold into a feminine image of beauty and he could feel his feet shrink and become dainty little things he couldn’t believe were holding him up. Then the thing he dreaded most happened and he felt his hard cock draw up and recede into his body. He closed his eyes and tried to will away the feelings and ignore this twisted reality but he wasn’t strong enough and he felt his cock and balls slip back into his body and become his new reproductive system. A clitoris formed and his slit took shape. Finally, a loud crack was heard as his pelvic bowl widened and his hips took shape.

What stood before them was a vision of the perfect ballerina. Medium height, dark hair tied into a tight bun, modestly sized breasts, a perfect ass and a tight, flat tummy. Cade or rather ‘Cadence’ was terrified to see his reflection in the mirror but it was unavoidable. If he could he would’ve cried. He heard the witch snap her fingers again and braced for even more changes but instead his arms extended and his legs widened their stance. “This is the second position,” the ballet mistress said, “we are going to use magic to help you get the basic positions down at first but you will be expected to learn and become our Prima Ballerina, if you resist or refuse then I’ll just use my magic again and make you do it. I could do that all the time but where would the fun in that be? You will be rented out to dance companies when you’re ready and all the money will come back to us. If you ever want to even dream of being a man again you’ll do as we say, clear?” And it most definitely was. They made him practice tirelessly and even without the mistresses magic Cadence was too weak-willed to argue or refuse and in time became an incredible dancer. On his first night performing in front of a live audience, his mistresses prediction came true and he was so wet he had to borrow several pads from the other dancers.

The end. I hope I didn’t screw this one up too bad for ya!

#ballerina #MtF tf #ass expansion #request

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gummi-animatronic · 7 years ago

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BATIM Fanfic: A Different Tune AU - Chapter 3

Note: Basically a shortened version of Chapter 3. Next chapter will be better and will be posted in a few minutes.

Hours later, Dani woke up and rubbed her head as she slowly sat up on the infirmary bed. Wasn’t very comfy but it was either that or the hammock and Boris seemed content with sleeping in it.

After stretching, she checked her phone and saw it was now 10 A.M.

“Whoa.” Her eyes widened. “I was more exhausted than I thought. Hard to believe we were here at around 7:00-7:30 P.M. and it’s now morning.”

After grabbing her MP3 off of the floor, she got up and walked out of the room towards the table Boris was sitting at with her phone in her hands. She tried to text and call someone but still no luck.

She didn’t hear any police walking around so what the Hell? Did her friends not get help and leave her to die instead?

“Of course I wouldn’t have service now with being deeper in the studio and all. Couldn’t even get it on the main floor.” She mumbled to herself but loud enough that Boris heard.

As she sat down, Dani put her MP3 on the table and she looked up to finally seeing Boris staring at her devices in a curious way. She glanced down at both of them and realized he probably never saw something like it before.

“Oh. You never saw a smart phone or a MP3 player before. Did you?” She asked him and he shook his head.

Checking the percentage on her phone, she noticed she still had close to 70% left. No harm in showing him some stuff. Right?

“Come over.” Dani motioned him over. “I’ll show you it.”

As he did, he grabbed a piece of paper and wrote a question on it.

“What year is it? I don’t remember anything after the 1950s.”

“It’s 2017.” Dani replied, making him give her a startled look.

“That long!?” Boris wrote. “I can’t believe this! I didn’t know that much time has passed! Explains how far technology seems to have come. Right? What are your things with you?”

“Well, this is a smart phone. You can call, text, play games, send and receive email, use the camera in it, and all sorts of other stuff.” She held up the bigger device then pointed to the other on the table. “And that’s a MP3 player. It plays music and can hold a lot of songs. You can even text and do mostly everything but call on it too.”

“Can I see the camera? What is this… text, that you speak of? And email too?” Boris questioned.

Dani began to show him what texting and email was. As well as some social media accounts and games she had on her phone. After showing him how to call someone on it, she ended with the camera.

“Smile!” She held the camera up. After taking the picture and showing it to him, she continued. “Congrats! You took your first selfie!” She giggled then showed him the other side of the camera too and how it can switch and even record video.

After she was done showing him everything on her phone, she decided to do the same with her MP3 player. Skipping over everything similar that it can do like her phone and going straight to the music.

Boris pointed to her ear buds as she unplugged them from the device.

“Those are to make sure I’m the only one that can hear the music playing so I don’t disturb others.” She then showed him a few of her favorite songs.

About a hour later, she had made some bacon soup for them, still unsure how old it actually is but she was starving and didn’t know when she would eat again.

As they ate, she answered more of Boris’ questions about life nowadays and how much the world has changed.

Dani decided to stick with the new technology stuff so she didn’t have to go into all the history and other things that had happened since the 1950s. As well as other happy stuff.

“I wish I could leave this place.” Boris suddenly wrote.

“Can’t you? Or are you worried about what people might think about the whole cartoon character being alive thing.” Dani asked.

“That. And I don’t know if I can leave this place. The ink machine… it’s sort of trapping me here.”

“Kind of like what happened with Sammy?” She asked and he nodded.

“We’re all trapped here really. Only one that can leave is you. Speaking of which, why don’t we head out?” Boris suggested and she agreed.

Once all of her stuff was back in her pockets, she started cursing herself for not bringing a small purse at the very least. Then they headed out the door and into the hallway.

As they wandered through the dark hallways, she decided to use a nearby flashlight so her battery wouldn’t die faster on her phone. Eventually they had to be separated so Boris could open the door.

Dani walked through the toy department, hoping she would find Boris again soon. She couldn’t help but squeeze and listen to the pleasant squeaking noise that the plushies made. It made her want to bring a Boris one home and maybe even a Bendy and Alice too.

She found another recording and listened to it, feeling like the voice sounded familiar to her.

‘But it couldn’t be.’ She laughed to herself.

After a few minutes found herself in another room. The lights went out and she stopped in the middle of the floor as…someone was singing a song right when the screens turned on.

“I’M ALICE ANGEL!” A figure jumped up and banged on the glass as she screamed at her.

Dani’s mouth dropped, unsure of what she saw as she started to shiver in the darkness.

"I see you there. A new fly in my endless web. Come along now. Let's see if you're worthy to walk with angels.” The female voice chuckled.

Soon, the lights turned back on and the door that had been shut before was now open.

Slowly, Dani walked through and came up to two different rooms. An angel and a demon path? Which one should she take?

‘Hmm I had enough ink for a while.’ She shuddered, looking at all the ink in the demon path.

Going over to the other room, she jumped when she heard a door shutting nearby. Figuring it was the other room, she continued on without looking back and pressed the ‘play’ button on the recording on the couch.

“Everything feels like it's coming apart. When I walked into the recording booth today, Sammy was there with that... Allison. Apparently, I didn't get the memo. Alice Angel will now be voiced by Miss Allison Pendle. A part of me died when he said that. There's gotta be a way to fix this!”

“Well… that sucks.” She muttered. “What a way to be told you’re being replaced by someone else.”

Dani continued on her journey and felt relieved when she came across Boris the Wolf waiting for her with a pipe.

“Boris! You scared me to death! I see you found something we can use to protect ourselves with?” She said as he handed the pipe over.

A few minutes later, they were in the elevator and that… Alice Angel continued to talk to her.

"You're so interesting... so different. I have to say, I'm an instant fan. Looks like you've got a date with an angel! Come to me now. Level Nine. Just follow the screams.” The voice rang out in the air.

With nothing else to do, Dani decided to do what she said since she sounded and looked dangerous.

“Go on, step out of your cage. There’s a whole twisted world out here.” Alice giggled.

Dani walked down the stairs, stopping to listen to the recording left by Thomas. Then she went up to the door that Boris proceeded to run through once it was opened enough.

“Boris wait!” She called for him.

However, she quickly came to a stop when she saw what he was staring at after running after him.

“Oh God…” Dani stared at the Boris and Butcher Gang clones. She recognized them on a poster she saw just a little bit earlier before being attacked by one of them.

As she took a few steps forward, Alice continued.

"Look around. It took so many of them to make me so beautiful. Anything less than perfect was left behind. I had to do it. She made me.”

“Who?” Dani asked, knowing she wasn’t going to get a response.

Leaving Boris staring at his clone, she gradually made her way to the other side of the room, finding another recording left by Susie sounding… happier. Definitely before she found out about being replaced.

Then she went into the next room, unable to stop herself from stepping forward and staring at the creature getting electrocuted.

She did stop walking when Alice started speaking.

"Hm. Now we come to the question... Do I kill you? ...Do I tear you apart to my heart's delight? The choices of the beautiful are unbearable. How's a girl to choose?” She chuckled as Dani stared at her. “Take this little freak for instance! He crawled in here... Trailing his tainted ink to my door! It could have touched me! It could have pulled me back!!”

Dani tilted her head at what sounded like a voice change.

‘That’s… odd…’ She thought.

“Do you know what it's like? Living in the dark puddles? It's a buzzing, screaming well of voices! Bits of your mind, swimming... like... like fish in a bowl!” Alice continued. “The first time I was born from its' inky womb, I was a wriggling, pussing, shapeless slug. The second time... well... It made me an angel! I will not let the demon touch me again. I'm so close now. So... almost perfect. Yes. I will spare you. For now. Better yet... I'll even let you ascend and leave this place. If you will do a few eensy, weensy little favors for me first. Return to the lift, my little errand girl. We have work to do!"

“Okay…” Dani muttered, doing as she was told and going back to the lift, but being stopped to grab a plunger.

She did have a feeling of relief when Boris was already there waiting.

--- A few hours later ---

It took a while but she eventually did all of the errands Alice wanted her to do while hiding from Bendy and fighting any other monster that appeared to her.

As they slowly ascended upwards, Alice continued to speak to her before she started screaming again.

Dani’s legs began to shake as she tried to hold on as the elevator dropped suddenly and Boris was cowering in the corner.

All the while, Alice was screaming about how he was the ‘perfect’ Boris and that she wanted him.

“I need him! I need his insides so I can be beautiful again!”

‘Ew.’ Dani thought.

“Now give him to me! Better yet, I’ll take him! Once. Your. DEAD!!”

Dani closed her eyes as she fell backwards and hit her head. When she wakes up again, she’ll be surprised if she doesn’t have any sort of brain damage or a concussion.

---- A short time later ---

“Huh? What?” She mumbled as she was shook awake.

When her eyes cleared up, she saw Boris looking afraid and shaking her shoulders. Boris? What was wrong with him?

She blinked and her headed started to hurt and her vision started to get blurry again.

The last thing she saw was a figure coming up from behind Boris.

“B-Boris.” Dani said, trying to get him to turn around.

But he didn’t. He kept his attention on her as Alice came up and grabbed him from behind.

Dani couldn’t help but start shaking and yelp when she saw Boris getting dragged down the hallway.

Despite her head hurting, she tried in vain to get up and go after them. After standing up for a second, she immediately fell back down.

“Boris…” She muttered as she closed her eyes.

A whine slipping out of her mouth as her eyes began to tear up.

“…Please forgive me.” And with that, she fell asleep.

#BATIM #Bendy and the ink Machine #Boris the Wolf #Alice Angel #OC

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rorykillmore · 7 years ago

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alright here we go, a self-indulgent piece since i’ve been wanting to write my dc ladies hanging out for awhile and ballplot provided me with the perfect thing to center it around! clearly sara is a bad influence on everyone, however,

“It’s about the ball,” Sara says in a more conspiratory tone, leaning a little closer. “I think we should get her a date.”

“Sooo, Kara,” Sara drawls, most of her focus on the pattern she’s braiding into the Kryptonian’s hair. “Tell us a little more about this girl you’re taking to the dance.”

It’s a hang-out-and-watch-terrible-B-movies kinda night, which sometimes happens when one of them is feeling particularly homesick. Kara never knew Sara or Caitlin all that well back home, being that they’re technically from parallel Earths, but there’s a certain solidarity that comes from being stranded in the same alternate reality together.

Apparently, though, Sara is still willing to stab her in the back at a moment’s notice. She flushes a little. “You make it sound like high school all over again.”

“Don’t tease her, Sara,” Caitlin protests mildly, glancing back at them -- and then to Kara specifically. “You’re going with Ratchet’s friend from the tech center, right? I think he mentioned something about that.”

“Ah. Yeah. Rey.” The admission pulled out of her, Kara smiles a little more readily. “I just thought... well, the flyers make the ball look so nice, and she... deserves that. Something nice.”

Caitlin smiles at her, a brief flash of encouragement and endearment.

Sara says smartly, “I’m taking my angry Sith BFF so she can make a political impression on the masses.”

Pleading with whatever god might listen that Sara’s joking seems like it’d be a little in vain, so Kara responds more dryly, “How romantic?”

She feels Sara nudge her. “Don’t backsass the person doing your hair, Danvers. I’m in the perfect position for sabotage.”

“I wouldn’t test her,” Caitlin adds, eyes back on the television. “Last week she propositioned Killer Frost with highlights.”

There’s a pause from Sara. “Hey, it’s a step up from propositioning her in general.”

“Sara!” Kara chokes, entirely unprepared for that unfiltered statement -- but Caitlin handles it rather gracefully, flushing faintly but giving Sara a deadpan look.

“I’m kidding,” Sara adds quickly, and Kara can hear the laugh she’s holding back. “I wouldn’t do that. Not that Frosty’s not charming, but it’d be a little weird.”

“How do you think I feel?” Caitlin counters dryly. “You’re not exactly the --” She cuts off abruptly, and Kara gives her a curious look. Somehow, though, she feels like this might be a good time to change the subject.

“So how’d you get so big on hairbraiding, Sara?” she asks, playful but with genuine enough curiosity. “I didn’t exactly figure you for the type. No offense.” It’s just that Sara’s, well, Sara, and all things considered sleepover activities seem a little domestic for her.

Behind her, Sara finishes up and leans back. “Yeah, well. I had a lot of practice with Laurel.”

“Laurel?” Kara can’t remember whether she knows the name -- did Barry mention a Laurel, once?

There’s a pause, and it’s not until she turns so she can see Sara that she responds with a slightly belated, “My sister.”

“Oh -- oh!” Kara can’t help but brighten just a touch. It’s a point of relatability she can’t help but find appealing. She remembers where she heard this before, now. “Back when we were fighting the Dominators, I think you said --”

This time, as she remembers exactly what Sara had said, the pause is definitely awkward. Sara’s expression is unreadable, and for a moment Kara wonders whether she and her sister had some kind of falling out -- and then she sees Caitlin’s reaction. Somber. Sad.

Her heart sinks.

Before she can say anything - apologize like she wants to - Caitlin gets up, her eyes darting to Sara and then away again. “I’m gonna go make some more popcorn,” she announces, and then slinks back towards the kitchen.

Her departure leaves a beat of silence in its wake, but Kara can’t bring herself to let it hang too long. “I’m so sorry, Sara, I -- I know you told Barry, I just wasn’t thinking --”

“Look, don’t worry about it,” Sara interrupts her steadily. She doesn’t sound angry, although there’s an edge to her voice that Kara’s never heard before. “She died last year, so, you know. Not exactly a fresh wound.”

Last year? If anything ever happened to Alex, Kara can’t imagine herself getting over it in -- in a whole lifetime. Sara can’t be anywhere near as detached from this as she pretends, she thinks. She should say something, she thinks -- after all, if there’s one thing she knows about, it’s loss. It’s probably why Caitlin gave them the room, so Sara could explain and Kara could do... something to make it a little easier.

“How did she die?” she asks quietly, and it’s not the question she wanted -- not anywhere near it. It feels too direct, too abrasive.

Sara hesitates, like she’s not sure she wants to answer. “She was a vigilante. -- A hero. It’s not a job without casualties.” She sets her jaw, looks away -- and then back at Kara. “Not all of us are bulletproof.”

Kara swallows. For a fleeting moment, she thinks of Ratchet -- maybe she and Sasuke take too much for granted. “I’m so sorry. She must’ve been.. so brave.”

“She was.” It’s only for a moment, but Sara’s tone softens a little. They almost sink into quiet again. And then -- “Look, let’s not do this right now. Tonight’s supposed to be fun. Besides -- there’s something I wanna talk to you about while Cait’s giving us a minute for a heart to heart.”

It almost feels callous to just move on, but Sara clearly doesn’t want to linger on this -- and ultimately, Kara doesn’t want to corner her. Instead, she allows herself a little curiosity, her brow furrowing. “...Okay. What’s up?”

“It’s about the ball,” Sara says in a more conspiratory tone, leaning a little closer. “I think we should get her a date.”

The change of tracks makes Kara blink, and she has to process the suggestion before she can manage a response. Caitlin? Date? Maybe that shouldn’t throw her as much as it does. It’s just -- Caitlin never seems to have the time for it. “What makes you think she even wants to go?”

“It’d be good for her. She’s always working her ass off in Metropolis, and without Barry here, someone’s gotta drag her out to unwind every once in awhile.” Sara rolls her eyes and then frowns, sobering a touch. “Besides, between you and me... she hasn’t exactly had the best luck in the romance department.”

“Oh --” Kara winces a little in sympathy. She knows the feeling.

“It doesn’t have to be anything, you know, serious,” Sara continues without dwelling on that. “Just something fun. Even if we just set her up for a night.”

It isn’t a bad idea, Kara decides. She hopes Caitlin won’t mind, because it sounds like it’d be a nice thing to do for her, if it works out. “Do you... have anyone in mind?” she asks.

Sara hums wryly. “Well. I think she’s had enough of guys for awhile, if you know what I mean.”

“Is she -- are you sure she’s not, you know, straight?” Kara always manages to forget that you can’t assume these things on Earth. “Wait a minute -- is that why you made that joke about Killer Frost?”

“I was trying to get a read on her.” Sara shrugs like it’s a perfectly reasonable explanation. “Usually I can tell, with women, but Caitlin’s -- you know how she is. Private about everything outside of a medical lab.”

Kara’s never really thought about it either way, but... “I mean. Killer Frost is kind of...”

“Definitely not straight,” Sara agrees, and it’s hard not to laugh at how matter-of-fact she is about it. “So unless the situation there is -- uh, even more complicated than I think it is, I’d say we have a fair shot.”

“Okay.” Kara wracks her brain for a moment. How many single women does she know? Maybe if Lena were here, but --

Wait.

“Oh my god. I think I know someone perfect!”

Sara raises her eyebrows expectantly. “Spill.”

“Well, my friends and I were at lunch the other day, and we were talking about going -- my civilian friends?” Kara automatically regrets the way she says that like it might be a foreign concept, but Sara seems unfazed. “And, um -- my friend Belle, she’s going with someone from her world, but my other friend Edith was just gonna third wheel it.”

“Damn, Danvers,” Sara teases. “It’s like you’re living a teen drama. So would... Edith be cool with all this?”

For a moment, Kara hesitates. Caught up in her excitement, she realizes she’s forgotten to consider the fact that Edith -- Edith is from over a hundred years in the past. But she’s always seemed so ahead of her time, so engaged in modern things --

-- Maybe she should consult with Belle, she thinks, just for some perspective?

“Well, I think they’d get along,” she ventures a bit more slowly. “I mean, they’re both smart, and opinionated, and that kinda... sort of chill where you’re just kind of above other people’s drama? Or. Try to be. And they’re both really successful in generally male-dominated fields -- Edith’s a playwright!”

“Hmm.” Sara seems to consider that. “Well. Worth a shot. Talk to her and see if she’s even... interested.”

She’s about to agree when Caitlin comes back into the room - a little cautiously, as if she’s not sure she’s given them enough time - with a fresh bowl of popcorn. Kara immediately tries to beam at her, and then inwardly scolds herself for what is probably a blatantly transparent reaction (especially next to Sara, who has it turns out has managed to look perfectly unfazed).

“Wow.” Caitlin pauses, arching an eyebrow. “You guys look...”

“What?” Sara asks, glancing at Kara as if she’s just as nonplussed as Caitlin is.

Caitlin hesitates. “I just figured -- nevermind.”

Instead, she settles down next to Sara and nods to the television. “What are we watching next?”

They spend the rest of the night making fun of some M. Night Shyamalan movie, which infuriates Caitlin because of the botanical inaccuracies and leaves Sara unimpressed because apparently the deaths aren’t “creative” enough. Still, it’s nice just to see the two of them like this -- joking around, laughing a little. It feels nice for Kara, too.

Just how disastrous the ball would end up being had yet to be determined, but if it was anything like this? For a little while, the distraction would be enough.

#cuts dennys lvad wire #fic #i cant believe no one invited siobhan?#also ive always thought itd be good for kara and sara to talk about sister stuff so... bit of a detour for that #im not sure how i feel about this in its entirety but it was fun to do

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7deadlycinderellas · 8 years ago

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Deals with Dragons, ch10

Ao3 link

Emma has never been to Kelt before. The islands were technically under the rule of Camelot, but remained very sovereign and insular. Her and Lily are grateful for the extra time under disillusionment to get their bearings.

The villages they encounter are all small, with some sheep and cattle, and very little in the way of merchants. Since the people here are awake, they return to foraging in the woods. Thankfully, there are a lot of woods.

The snow that’s falling is light enough to not impede their travels, not even close to what the wind and rain had been. The midwinter lights are out, and the harvests brought in. Time has kept on here, even if it hadn’t at home.

The rumblings that the two of them have gathered about the fairies here are already apparent. The women of the houses put out bowls of milk every night. Roads wind around areas rumoured to be dens. And they pass one family, weeping over a child, that they swear had been changed in the night.

Lily’s been a bit restless. She wakes at night, shifting under Emma’s arms and waking her too, before rolling back and resettling. She says her skin itches here, which makes Emma think it might be a reaction to being close to the fairies that are her ancestors.

One day, they cross into a new village with the festival poles up, and the barrels of cider smoking.

“It must be the last evening of the year”, Emma whispers.

It looks perfect, the light dusting of snow, all the lights still up, everyone gathered in the square. But the people in this town seem...different.

Lily picks up on it too.

“Why is everyone here so….tired?

“Maybe it’s been a hard winter?” Emma suggest uncertainly. This is unlikely, considering the snow is so light, and the festival tables seem well filled.

They stay on the fringe of the group, sneaking roasted nuts and trying to listen. The poles are wrapped and light, the lights go up and then down, but they are no closer to the truth.

Then in the darkest of night, the first door creeps open.

The first out of the house is a well dressed young man. He is followed by a willowy girl of about eleven. One by one, all the young people of the town mindlessly march out of their houses and head towards the forest.

“Should we follow them?” Emma asks.

“I guess that’s how we find where this goes”.

Stories have made their way back to the mainland. A prince, or a princess, or a gaggle of them, drawn into the forest by the power of the fairies, forced to dance all night, into exhaustion,

The trees here are tall and thin, blocking out most of the light from the moon. Then the group reaches the break in the trees, when the light pours through.

“Oh!” Emma exclaims, “We have these back home, but I thought the name ‘fairy ring’ was just to make it sound fancy”.

One by one, the crowd steps through the ring of mushrooms on the forest floor. Emma and Lily are last, and, a little apprehensive, they clasp hands before stepping through.

When they go through, Emma feels a gasp escape her throat, and Lily beside her physically quiver.

The cold winter light has lifted, transforming into the gentle haze of a midsummer’s night. The green grass and trees seem to have been turned up a notch, almost too green to be real. The meadow they were in has widened. Tables line the edges, laden with plates heavy with every kind of delicacy imaginable, And floating through the air, are the faeries. Small people, of all ages, bearing delicate wings and murmuring in a language that almost sounds human. A few sit to the head of the clearing, playing their instruments, awaiting instructions from the caller.

Emma and Lily briefly cling to each other as the others glide their way into the fairy ball,

“What do we need to remember?” Lily says, hushed and rushed.

“Don’t touch the food- even you- or we’ll have to stay. The trance will probably be harder on me than you. Try to find information through conversation, don’t agree to anything. And above all, don’t lose track of each other or we could end up getting out days or even weeks apart”.

They stand in each other’s gaze for a moment, and Emma leans forward to kiss her once, before they part and join the party.

Emma’s never been a huge fan of parties. True, they were fun, but more often than not she found herself sticking to the people she knew and stepping out as early as would be polite. But being in among the fairy ball had the effect on her head of a strong lager. The music was loud enough to be enchanting, near loud enough to drown out thought, the dancers whirling and twirling, around her, and when she joined in, in perfect sync.

She breaks loose of a Virginia reel, and finds herself near the refreshment table. It’s nearly impossible to pull herself away. The roasts, piles of sea creatures, jellies and desserts, all emit an otherworldly aroma. Only the threat of never leaving, is enough in her vaguely drunken head to force herself to ignore it.

The other humans they came in with look worse off than her. Rather than under a trance, they seem well and truly hypnotized, barely responding to others.

Lily is walking on the edge. They were right, it turns out, that because of her fairy heritage, that the spell their magic held over the humans did not affect her. And for the first time since they had left Aurora’s forest, the others were noticing her.

Strangely enough, they don’t seem to be paying her any mind.

Two fly by, with the faces of old women, and she hears them mutter about, “Halflings, come crawling back”, that she assumes is aimed at her, but overall, she doesn’t get the sense that this group thinks terribly deeply about things.

The party is in the forest clearing, and there are lights leading up a hill, where fairies are coming and going. With trepidation, Lily decides to investigate.

The grass on the hill is thick and dark, and the lights are spaced further apart. The path follows the hill to its low peak, then over it into a shallow hollow.

In the shallows, sits the Faerie Queen atop her throne, the others attending her. And then Lily realizes, that now they’re all watching her.

Lily clumsily attempts a curtsy.

“Have you returned to serve your Queen, halfling?”.

Lily doesn’t even get a chance to respond before Titania rises. The fairy is as tall as Lily, but somehow still seems to tower over her, swathed from head to toe in frothy green.

She raises a finger.

“Your mother was never pleased with the land of her birthright. Always wanted more. Left and bought and traded magic with common beings. Even when she returned, all she did was blather on about some curse she traded with a human, that somehow seemed to slip from her grasp. So covetous she was, of the magic of a common imp”.

She taps Lily on the forehead, and suddenly she feels dizzy.

“Such a bore, “ Titania declares, before sending Lily off with a quick twitch of the hand.

She returns to the dancers in the clearing and finds Emma just as the caller calls out the Black Nag.

She finds Emma quickly, and takes her hand. Emma looks a bit stupified, but manages,

“What happened? Did you already find…”

They step and twirl in line, and then separate.

When they reunite, Lily manages to get out,

“Something that was traded….she had to find...a spell….something about a human and an imp”.

The music doesn’t stop, it’s intoxicating. The air is warm and full of the smell of the fairy feast they have to avoid. Emma’s hands are warm and solid in hers, and when they step forward and turns, Lily can feel her breath on her cheeks. And she can suddenly understand how people get stuck here.

Then she catches sight of the other dancers, seemingly moving at though on a track. Stiff and empty, like clockwork figures. Many are dressed in old fashioned clothing, and appear emaciated.

Emma laughs, sounding borderline delirious.

“We have to….” she hiccups, “God you look beautiful in the moonlight….gotta….gotta get out of here.”

Lily takes a deep breathe, and when the line moves them out of sight, she counts the seconds until they clasp hands again, and then with a hint of roughness, pulls Emma out of the arrangement.

They barely make it into the trees, just within sight of the edge of the ring of mushrooms when one of the fairies lunges in front of them. It’s face is narrow, and young, and when it says, “Leaving so soon” they can see it has fangs.

It extends its hands, full of fruit.

“Can’t we offer you a refreshment?”

Emma whispers, still with a giggle.

“Do not trust goblin men, do not eat their fruit”.

They turn abruptly, and push to speed up.

Then Emma trips, and Lily stops to pull her up.

“Why’s a chest here?” Lily grumbles.

Then Emma freezes.

“Wait”.

Then suddenly there’s a loud crack and a borderline fearsome squeal.

Emma pants, then grabs her again and they run.

They break the ring and tumble to the ground, heaving.

“What was that?” Lily asks.

Emma stands up and shows her. It’s a heavy chain, with a set of shackles on the end.

“Iron. Fairies can’t stand it. Touch it, I want to see if it affects you top”.

Lily reaches out, and is immediately overcome by the feeling of pins and needles in her skin. When she actually touches it, it sends chills through her from head to foot. She jerks back.

“Good to know” Emma says, tucking the chain into her pack.

She then slumps to the grass, flat on her back. Lily is suddenly overcome by exhaustion and joins her.

“It’s warm” Lily comments. It is, and the sky is clear and blue. “How long have we been gone?”

Emma rubs a cheek against the grass, seemingly sunning herself in the warmth. She asks.

“So what do we know now?”

“Titania said something about Mom seeking a spell that she had traded and then lost. Something extremely powerful, made by an imp. “

Emma stiffens.

“What?”

“My mother’s stepmother- the former Queen. When my mother was woken from her spell, she had reappeared and threatened the kingdom with a spell created by Rumpelstiltskin. He said, after helping banish her, that it would have sent the entire land to another world. But he never would tell about where the instruments of the spell, and then he vanished, never seen again.”

Lily thinks,

“Titania did say that Mom was never satisfied with the world she came from. A spell that would allow her to escape to another one...I don’t know, maybe she would do it. Or she might just be upset that it slipped away from her“

“Another world. God, I can’t even imagine that. What do we ever have on our side?”

“Knowledge, just a little. The fairies enchantments. And those shackles. Mom’s full blooded fairy, those could bring her to her knees.”

“And we have you”, Emma says, sleepily.

“What?”

“You said that she always wanted you to be your best. Well you have, she might even be happy to see you. “

Lily is left, with her stomach squirming, when she realizes that Emma has fallen asleep.

#once upon a time #emma x lily #lily swan #swan flower #runaway swan #fic

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cherrysnowclone · 8 years ago

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[Valentine's Meihem] You're My Flame

Gift for @reaper-botherer

I could not ask for a more perfect recipient, and I tried very hard to write something delightful for you. It really helped that you had great suggestions for what you wanted - I went with the one about Mei and Jamie cooking, and put my own spin on it. I hope you have a wonderful day!

Summary: Mei attempts to surprise Jamie with a meal while they are out on a mission - but when Mei hurts herself and Jamie steps in to help out, they end up surprising each other.

About 5000 words; only fic warning is one really terrible pun early on.

Incredibly, impossibly, dangerously outdated appliances. Mei didn’t know that until too late.

The pan finally finished tumbling on the floor, and clattered to a stop against a cabinet. The half-cooked beef roast sat on its side on the linoleum floor. Some of the juice slowly pooled around it. Mei, who had sunk to her knees on the floor, could only regard it sadly as she cradled her right hand to her chest.

The door from the den slammed open, opposite from where she sat in the small kitchen. Jamison lept out from the dark, wearing only his pajama pants, and his hair somehow even more disheveled after sleeping, all of it smashed towards the right.

“Heard screamin’!” He waved around a bronze lamp in one hand, and looked around the room wildly. “Who is it? Lemme at ‘em!”

“Nobody’s here.” She sniffled, and dabbed her eyes with her sleeve. “I just hurt myself.”

“Hurt?” He set the lamp on the counter behind him and took a knee beside her. “How? Where?”

Mei bit on her lip, trying to keep down more crying. She drew her hand from her chest and splayed it open - most of her hand was bright red, except for her palm and fingers. The skin cracked a blistering white.

His face also blanched, once he got a good look at her injury. Jamie’s hands twitched in midair, like he wanted to do something but had no idea what. “Uh…I see…we gotta take care of that…”

“I know. Snowball?” Her little robot woke himself up out of his charging dock, set in the corner. It hovered over, looked at her hand and beeped in sympathy. Then, Snowball blew layers of frost over her palm and fingers, until her whole right hand was covered in a translucent glove of ice. Within a few moments, her hand numbed, and she didn’t feel anything at all, not pain or anything else. It’d heal better like this, but it also left her hand basically useless. Snowball chirped, spinning around her hand to celebrate a job well done, then drifted back to his charging station to get some more energy for tomorrow.

She sighed, and realized that Jamie still was beside her, his hands wringing anxiously. She wiped the last of her tears from her cheeks with her uninjured hand, and tried to crack a small smile for him.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore. I’m okay. Besides being clumsy, and an idiot.” She pulled her knees up against her chest and sighed again, this time towards the roast on the floor. “The stoves I am used to cook only the food, not the pan too. I did not realize this old thing was so different. So I started cooking, and wanted to see how it was doing, and grabbed the pan, and…”

“Was nice and hot, seems like.”

“Yes.” Unsaid, she wondered if he thought she was a moron. Even though she didn’t register the pain anymore, Mei’s nerves still rattled, and she struggled to fully regain her composure.

Jamie, still crouched beside her, poked at the oozing beef chuck with a metal finger. “Didn’t even know we had food like this around.”

Of course he didn’t know. After they returned from scouting the nearby forest, he took his usual afternoon nap, and Mei seized her chance to be alone. She raced to the closest little grocer she could find, and bought the roast as well as some other fresh food, since Reinhardt’s cabin seemed to have none. The rice was already done, and rested in the cooker. She had garnishes for the meat, and some greens in the fridge. It was all supposed to be a surprise. He was supposed to wake up to the smell of a wonderful dinner, not to her childish screaming.

Mei pressed her forehead to her knees. “I’m sorry. I was really hoping for a special meal.”

Jamie tilted his head at her. “Why you apologizin’ to me about that?” But she couldn’t respond to him, and just hugged her knees closer to herself.

She heard him stand up, pace around the kitchen a bit. He tossed the pan into the metal sink, then paced a bit around her, then the roast.

“Ughn! You’re acting like you ruined the thing.” Jamie lifted the roast, which was about the size of a small bag of rice, and threw it onto the counter. By the time Mei lifted her face from her knees, he had found an automatic carving knife, and sliced off the long, flat part of the roast that had touched the floor. “That good?”

“I…I guess.” If it were only her own night she ruined, Mei would’ve dumped the roast in the trash and ordered some pizza instead. Now, with Jamie around, she had to be more careful about food waste - even if the meat was lab-grown, she knew it was more than he ever even seen growing up. He looked over the oven now, opening the door and looking inside, closed the door, and considered the control panel carefully.

“Bleh.” He threw the knobs of the oven all to OFF. “Forget it. If you couldn’t make it go, I don’t stand a chance.”

“I was able to make it work, I just-

He wasn’t listening. He just continued to think out loud, tapping his lip and pacing around the kitchen. “How about a blowtorch? Or a small flamethrower? Or…oh!”

She dropped her knees to her side, and twisted around to watch him. “What is it?”

He threw the side door open, looked out, and apparently saw something among the snow and forest that made his grin fire up to 100%. “Ah, there’s one!”

“Jamie?” But he was gone, through the door and out into the late afternoon chill. She sighed deeply, and considered her frozen hand while she waited for him to come back in.

Had he gone to grab something from the truck? But the minutes drew out and he hadn’t returned. Mei had just managed to pull herself up from the floor when she heard a great electric roar, and the scream of metal.

“Jamie?!”

She ran outside in time to see two halves of an old steel beer barrel fall apart into a top and a bottom half, and Jamie laughing among the shower of sparks that sprayed across the snow. Still without his shirt, or sock or shoe for that matter, he pumped the whirring wireless buzzsaw over his head triumphantly, like a prize.

A fainting spell passed over Mei, swaying her on her feet. She braced herself in the doorframe, and after a moment, made herself call, “What are you doing?”

“You’ll love it!” he yelled back, not answering her question at all. He turned off the saw and ran it back to the shed, and returned with a hammer. He ignored the top half of the beer barrel, but the lower half he pinned to the ground with his peg leg, then cracked the hammer against the walls of the barrel, widening it. He ended up with something almost bowl-shaped, with the rounded flat bottom of the barrel still intact. It looked about the size of an open umbrella when he was done with it.

He kicked the snow off of some logs, and Mei didn’t realize until now that those logs were arranged in a circle around a slightly depressed pit. Jamie lifted the half-barrel over his head, showing it off to her apparently, and then set it over the center of the little fire area.

“A grate! Get me a grate!”

“I’m getting you a coat first.”

He sprinted back into the kitchen, zooming right past Mei. He opened the oven door, and wrestled out one of the wire racks. Mei managed to throw a jacket over Jamie’s shoulders as he ran back out the door - one of Reinhardt’s jackets, in dark brown suede - which draped off of his thin frame like a cloak. He wouldn’t wait long enough for his shoe and sock, so she tossed them out the door after him.

“Slow down! Jamie, what has gotten into you?”

He cackled brightly. “We’re gonna make fire, woman!” Jamie pointed to Mei as she watched him from the side door. “Grab me the meat and a beer!”

“Get it yourself, you Neanderthal.”

“Oh! Funny you mention that…” His eyes positively glowed and his grin spanned his face. “I think you’ll find out that I’m more of a… barbe-que-barian!”

Mei threw up her hands and shut the door on him. His ringing laughter followed her around the kitchen.

She hadn’t considered a meal outside, not in this winter, but since he seemed committed to it, she now wondered what they would need. She filled a tray with things: the rice she made, salt and spices and sauce she bought at market, four bowls, utensils, gloves, napkins. A teapot filled with water, tea and some mugs. After she had gathered the things, she drew on her own coat and boots, and went outside again.

He had dragged a flat crate close to the pit, apparently as a prep table. She set the tea, rice, and all the utensils on it, then on her second trip, she brought the beef chuck on a cutting board, and the knife next to it.

Mei looked into the barbecue pit and winced. It seemed that while she was in the kitchen, he had dumped a pile of scrap and debris into the bottom of the half-barrel, apparently not checking to see if it was all burnable first. So she pulled out the varnished wood and plastic scraps she’d rather not have burning up and releasing carcinogens into the meal. But Stuttgart’s forest was old and filled with fallen branches and logs, and he easily found more fuel. Jamie basically skipped back to the pit with a new pile of wood, and used a knife to hack the damp bark off of them.

Reinhardt must have been fond of his fire pit. After digging around the shed for a few minutes, Mei found a bundle of dried almond wood, some metal skewers, a fire extinguisher (she sighed in relief at that one), and a leather satchel filled with grilling utensils. She gathered them up and deposited them next to Jamie, who knelt by the pit arranging the logs and the quick-burning trash. She sank onto a log and exhaled deeply, exhausted by all this unexpected work just to get a meal going.

“I hope this is safe,” she said.

“Course it is. I’m an expert!” He shot her a thumbs-up - the tip of his metal thumb, of course, flipped back to expose an open flame. He put his hand in the barbeque bowl and lit up the balled-up newspapers and paper trash in there.

She poured herself some tea, and watched him work for a little while. Over the time she had known him, she discovered that if he had something to focus all of his attention on, a lot of his erratic tics seemed to melt away. He deftly cut the roast into thin strips, hand moving smoothly from cut to cut, and then threaded the meat onto metal skewers. He clapped his hands when he was done, all the skewers arranged in a line on the cutting board.

“I put some spice on the roast already,” Mei said. “Did you want more?”

“Oh yeah, way more.” He looked over the arrangement she had though, and uncertainty crossed his brow. “Ain’t sure what all this is though.”

She extended a spoon to him. “Let’s experiment then.”

It was slow going with only one hand, but Mei poured or shook out a little bit of each of the flavorings, one by one, and had them taste it off the spoon. What he liked, she mixed together in one of the bowls she brought out.

“This one,” he said, pointing at the dark sauce bottle she had him sample. “Whassat?”

“Hoisin.”

“Hoisin,” he repeated. “That’s a good one. Lotsa that.”

“Good.” She would have cried if she had to have roast without it. Next was some hot sauce, which she dabbed delicately onto the spoon and extended to him. “How hot should it be?”

“As hot as it gets.” He brushed aside the offered spoon, and waggled his eyebrows at her. “How much fire do you think you can handle, sweets?”

Mei stared him down, matching his suggestive look with a bland, stoic one of her own. Then, while holding his gaze, she poured an extremely generous measure of the hot sauce into the bowl. “There.”

He laughed aloud in his seat, his feet stomping into the dirt and snow. “I love it!” he hollered, apparently to the trees and forest around them. “This peach is a spitfire!”

She shook her head, a blush finally rising to her cheeks. “You are so embarrassing.”

“Yeah?” He grinned. “Who’s to know?”

Eventually the marinade was finished, a goopy, thick dark mess. Jamie tested a dab of it and practically shivered. With care and focus again, he brushed the marinade over the strips, then set them over the grill, one at a time. Though the fire looked lower than before, it still burned incredibly hot, because the meat started sizzling in no time. Mei had been too busy before to notice how incredibly hungry she felt right now.

“Wow.”

He picked up a skewer with his metal hand, and spun around a pair of metal chopsticks in his other. He expertly plucked the meat off the skewer with the chopsticks, and offered it to Mei. “Here’s some for ya.”

She extended her bowl towards him, and let him pile the steaming, delicious looking grilled meat over her rice. Before she could tear into it herself, Jamie snatched up a small piece of beef in his chopsticks and hovered it in front of her face. “Say ‘ah’.”

“Ah.”

“Now say ‘ooooh, Mr. Fawkes~ You’re so handsome and talented.’”

She didn’t, she was too busy chewing. She had to fan her mouth against the heat. “Jamie,” she managed to say, “this is-”

Branches snapped and snow crashed down somewhere high in the trees behind them. In the back of her mind, Mei knew that she should expect this, but still ended up surprised at the loud thud that thundered the ground a few meters behind them. A silhouette appeared through the brush, and strode with heavy, armored steps towards the glow of the fire pit.

The figure took off her helmet. Though thin, dark blue fabric protected the lower half of her face from the cold, absolutely no one could mistake this woman’s sharp eyes, her udjat tattoo.

“Fareeha.” Mei stood up from her log. She hid her iced hand behind her back, deciding that she was not ready to explain it yet. “How did your scouting go?”

“Surprisingly well. There are some promising locations for us to dig up tomorrow.”

There was a secret directive hidden in the code of the sentry robots that were deployed here in the outskirts of Stuttgart, a secret Overwatch only got wind of within the last week. Mei had asked Zenyatta, carefully, to probe Bastion’s memory for any hint of what it had forgotten, but Bastion had rewritten so much of itself, and the data was gone. The rewrite was a wonder of Bastion’s free will, of course, but the loss of its data made Overwatch’s investigation all the more difficult. Recovering other sentry bot from Eichenwalde might help them crack the code.

But someone else was now spiriting away the other broken bots, it seemed. After twenty years of leaving them to rust, someone only now found it urgent to take the remaining sentries away. But who, and why? Mei hoped they could recover a robot before she got the chance to find out.

Only Mei gave Fareeha a standing welcome. Jamie glanced over his shoulder instead, a nervous habit of his. Mei knew who he looked for, but Roadhog wasn’t even on the same continent as them right now. Jamie instead grunted and shoved his hands into his coat’s pockets, and slumped into his seat even deeper. He didn’t want Fareeha to notice him, and she never wanted to talk to him.

The captain was still for a few moments, considering the scene carefully. Mei realized she was staring at the fire pit, and the collection of Reinhardt’s barbeque gear next to it.

“Are you alright?” Mei asked.

“Ah, yes. This just brought back some memories.” Fareeha sat down on one of the logs, and set her helmet on the seat next to her. “I didn’t expect to come home to such a…rustic meal.”

“I bought some things in town,” Mei explained. She found the third bowl she had filled with rice, and extended it to the captain. “I had enough of the rations, and wanted to make something special.”

“A welcome surprise in weather this cold.”

Fareeha picked few skewers off the sizzling grate, then slid the beef slices on top of her rice, like Mei’s. She cut them into smaller portions with her chopsticks, then scooped up a mouthful into her mouth. Her eyes brightened in surprise. “It’s so good! You surprise me with all of your talents, Mei.”

Mei glanced at Jamie, already pretty sure of what she’d see. His face was so incredibly emotive, a mixed blessing because she always could tell how he felt, for better or worse. He glowed with pride, for a moment, then the next his whole face fell.

She lifted a finger to her lips. Sssh. His lips twitched in a brief snarl, and he crossed his arms and looked aside.

“Fareeha, that is very kind of you to say. What about it do you like?”

“These strips! They are so tender. It has a bit of crisp and crust on it, but it melts on the inside.” She took a break for a moment, and seemed to savor the steam and smell for a moment. “And it is spiced very well.”

“That is very high praise.” Mei saw one of Jamie’s eyes peek open, looking back at her. She smiled to him, then back to Fareeha.

The captain “Actually, it reminds me of a beef rice bowl I once had, at a nice sit-down in Tokyo. Not the same flavors, but the same feel? This is very spicy, by the way.”

Mei laughed softly. “Hear that, Jamison? It tasted like a real restaurant cooked it.”

Fareeha was halfway through chewing another mouthful of her meal when her attention darted up to Mei. “Hm?”

“I didn’t cook tonight.” Mei lifted her iced-over hand. Fareeha put her hand to her mouth and gasped softly. “Well, I tried to, but I burned myself. Then Jamison graciously suggested to grill instead, so we wouldn’t waste the ingredients.”

The captain peered at him. “Is that so?”

“Totally selfishly! Not being nice at all!” He huffed, his arms still crossed, and shook his head. “I thought I’d puke if I had to eat them dried army bits again!”

“I made the rice, and helped a little with the spices.” Mei smiled. “But Jamison is the real artist here. Beef was always my favorite, but this is the best I’ve ever had.”

Jamie’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Fareeha paused eating. She glanced between Mei and Jamison a few times, definite confusion over her face. Sudden panic flared up in Mei’s spine. Had she been too obvious? But she had told the truth. And Jamie stared at Mei like he’d never heard a kinder thing in his life.

Maybe Fareeha would assume that Mei was being agreeable? So she smiled sweetly at the captain, and added, “Meals with teammates always taste better, right captain?”

“Yes. I suppose that’s true,” Fareeha finally said. She tapped the barrel with her armored toe. “Well, I did assume this contraption was a Junker’s doing.”

He straightened up in his seat and waved his arms around. “Of course! Made us a good ol’ fashioned barrel barbeque, just like home.”

Fareeha’s expression towards him changed somewhat - she still looked stern, but less interrogating, Mei thought. “Oh, Mr. Fawkes? Was this arrangement common for you?”

“Every night! Rain or shine! Dust or smog!” He then rubbed his hair with the heel of his hand, looking somewhat sheepish for a moment. “Except, I ain’t cook for an audience in a while.”

“I’m sorry I assumed then.” She looked thoughtfully at Jamie, like she was still trying to measure her opinion of him. “It seems like you are a man of more-than-one talent.”

“Ha! And plenty more where that came from, promise you that!”

Mei giggled into her hand. He was blushing! Jamie must have noticed, since he shot a glance back at her, muttered something to himself, and finally lifted his own food to his face and ate.

The conversation drifted to the details of Fareeha’s scouting, and the schedule for tomorrow’s search. Fareeha was almost exhaustingly thorough, wanting backup plans and a location to fall back to in case they encountered trouble. Mei paid close attention because Jamie definitely wasn’t. The glowing comments about his food made him even more attentive towards the second batch of beef slices, but Mei also noticed him glancing at her quite often, almost shy glances that darted quickly away whenever she caught him.

Mei scooped out more rice for everyone, and Jamie leaned over to serve Fareeha another skewer of beef strips. But at the last moment he held it back, and wagged a finger at her. “Second helping - only if ya give me a look at one of them missiles.”

Fareeha’s eyes widened in surprise. At first, Mei was certain she would reprimand Jamie. But her face slowly softened, and she extended her bowl to him anyway.

“Maybe for Thanksgiving. Just to see you flash-cook a turkey with it.”

He stared at her for a moment, then slapped his knee and laughed. He dropped the strips in her bowl and she smiled thinly.

“It’s getting too cold out here for me. I’m going to take this inside.” She scooped up her helmet, then nodded at them as she stood up. “Thank you for dinner.”

The logs cracked and spit up some embers into the air. Even though the fire wasn’t as fierce as it was before, Mei’s skin still prickled from the warmth radiating from it. She closed her eyes and exhaled in relief. In her original plan, she and Jamie would have finished their dinner before Fareeha had come home. But somehow, this had worked out anyway.

His voice, low, reached her over the fire. “Hey.”

“Yes?”

“When’s Thanksgiving?”

She searched her memory. “I think…October?”

“Aw.” He propped his chin on his hands. “That’s a long time.”

“That’s okay.” She smiled at him. “I think Fareeha likes you better now.”

Jamie huffed and looked away. “Like I care what Jet Pack thinks of me.”

Mei watched the lights of different cabin rooms flick on and off, until it seemed like Fareeha settled into one room. Only then did Mei get up, and moved so that she could be closer to him. She hated hiding, but Overwatch couldn’t know about their relationship yet - they might separate her from Jamie, and stop them from going on missions together. Even the thought of that made her heart ache.

She hugged him from behind, pressed her chest to his back, and rest her cheek on his shoulder. He was warm like a glowing furnace, even in this cold. He turned his face towards hers, his eyes curious, and wondering.

“I believe that you always try your best,” she whispered in Chinese, quiet as a breath. She used to be so scared that he’d lash out, undo even the meager amount of trust the other agents had in him, and then flee Overwatch and all the protection it could offer a man on the run. But even with Roadhog gone, Jamie surprised her with his determination to prove himself. He tried so hard every day - to be good, to make friends, to do right by her.

She touched along the side of his jaw. He wanted so badly to belong. Once she had realized that, everything she had understood about him changed.

“Hm?” He hadn’t understood her quietly-spoken Chinese, and waited for her to repeat herself.

“I said, I love you for being so strong,” she said, in English. “And brave.”

The best part was watching his eyes widen. “I…uhhhh…”

She held her arms all the tighter around his chest, and smiled at him - the small and sweet smile that he once said made him go completely stupid. “And you are so cheerful all the time, and always make me laugh.”

Now he kicked his feet and squirmed in her loving chokehold. His face and ears bloomed with bright red blushes. “That’s not fair! Yer killing me!”

She pressed two light kisses to the side of his jaw. “And every day, I find more reasons to love you.”

He reached his arm back around her waist, lifted her and swung her around until she sat sideways across his thighs. Mei squealed and kicked out her feet, looking for her balance, when he kept a hand and her back and dipped her low. If she tilted her head back just a little, she’d see the forest upside-down behind her. But Mei couldn’t even think of anything but his bright gold eyes upon hers.

“You’re playing with fire, Snowflake,” he warned in a low, growl. Jamie loomed over her, and she shivered from the thrill of him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re trying to drive me crazy.”

She put her hand to her mouth. “I would never!”

He looked so alive. “You give me wild ideas. Like that I’d want to grab ya like this, run off into the woods, and keep you just for me.”

“Oh no,” she whispered, as if the prospect was actually frightening. “Not that.”

Then he did what she wished he’d do - he ducked his face close, smirked, and kissed her. First lightly, fleeting and full of affection that she could drown in, and then when she gasped, a real one. But he kissed far too slowly, perhaps second-guessing his ability, or her delicacy. So she grabbed his coat collar with her good hand and pulled him to her, hoping to rid him of any doubt of what she wanted. She thought he smelled quite wonderful tonight, warm, like scorched bark, pine, sandalwood, and spice. The smell, and the heat of him, made her practically melt against Jamie, and soon the tension left his uncertain hands and lips as well.

Mei let the ice glove over her right hand snap, and even though her palm still hurt a little bit, she clutched at the back of his jacket, wanting to close every gap between them. His arms folded around her and matched the possessiveness, the need in her embrace. Alone, together in this snowy forest, her heart poured out for him with no reserve. She kissed so urgently and clung so tightly as if it were a ward against the rest of the world, against all the terrible forces that would take him from her, if only given a chance. No, she never wanted that, would never let that happen…

A loud crashing sound managed to cut through the thick fog of emotions. Her thoughts jarred. Noise, from the kitchen?

Jamie startled, lost his balance, and both he and Mei toppled forward into the dirt behind the fire pit. She blinked, dazed at the sudden fall, until she heard his urgent whisper and felt his hand at her back. “Up! It’s her.”

He drew himself up to only a crouch, and stooped over the grate so low that his face was nearly in the fire. He poked eagerly at the embers to make even more sprays of light. Bowed over like that, Fareeha should not be able to see the redness on his face, or his tell-all expression this way. The cabin door groaned open, slowly and dreadfully as Mei raced back to her seat.

“Hi!” She waved to the captain, now dressed in a cozy sweatsuit. Mei realized belatedly that her hand wasn’t in ice anymore, but she hoped that Fareeha didn’t notice. “Yes?”

She looked between the two of them at the fire, but Mei didn’t see any indication that that Fareeha was suspicious, or upset. Instead, the captain revealed two plastic packages from behind her, and held them up for Mei and Jamie to see. “As a thank you for the meal. Do either of you know about s'mores?”

Mei shook her head. “I’m not familiar?”

“I wasn’t sure if he’d have the ingredients around. But it is Reinhardt we’re talking about, so…”

She tossed a package to Mei - chocolate covered cookies? And Jamie caught a pillowy white bag Fareeha threw over the fire, which he held by the corner as he peered over its (very, very cute) packaging.

“What are these for?” Mei asked.

“I think the pyro can figure it out.” She saluted, and stepped back into the cabin. “See you at 0700, soldiers.”

Mei looked at Jamie, but he only shrugged. “Dunno. Never seen these before.”

She sighed, and slumped deeply into her seat. For all of the discretion she demanded from Jamie, tonight she was doing a terrible job of controlling herself. But, Mei supposed, Fareeha probably wouldn’t have been so nice if she thought something was up. Somehow they were still okay.

She watched him open up the package and investigate the fluffy white candy inside. Jamie dangled one marshmallow over the fire, looked unsatisfied, and then tossed it to her. “This ain’t doing anything.”

Mei took one of the skewers from dinner, and pierced the marshmallow with it. “Maybe it needs to be closer.”

He watched over her shoulder as she waved the candy close to the flames. “Lookit!” he said. By the fire’s heat the marshmallow puffed up, and slowly deepened in color from white, tan, gold, until it just charred at the edge. She drew the treat back, then popped it off of the skewer and quickly into her mouth.

“Oh!” It took her a few moments to chew it down. “That actually tastes good! Like burnt sugar.”

“Lemme try.”

She turned to grab a second skewer, but his hand on her shoulder stopped her. Jamie grabbed her chin, and kissed her. Very quickly, there and gone again like the lick of a flame. He considered her, his hands holding her still, and ran his tongue over his lips.

“Hm, can’t tell. Is always sweet.”

Her neck and cheeks bloomed in color, and he laughed to himself uproariously. She tried to bat him on the arm, but he danced out of her way and onto his feet. He snatched up the second package Fareeha tossed, and looked over it by the light of the fire.

“What’re the cookies for then? We supposed to burn these too?”

“I don’t think that sounds right.” She couldn’t think straight, and sat with her hands clapped over her cheeks. He was so embarrassing. “Maybe?”

Jamie grinned. “Nothin’ to do but try, luv.”

—–

Meanwhile -

Fareeha, hyperventilating and on the phone: I can’t believe it! I was not briefed on this! I was never told those two were so close. I thought they hated each other, but I saw them kissing! Just now!

Reinhardt: Ah! Young love! How tiny and adorable! And on Valentine’s Day too!

Fareeha: NOT adorable! This is the kind of thing that compromises missions! How the hell am I supposed to proceed like this?

Reinhardt: So this is why that scrappy lad stole my cologne the other week. Sounds like Eau de Reinhardt worked out for him, haha!

Fareeha, banging her fist on the table: I need your advice, not your commentary!

Reinhardt:. No problem! I have just the thing for such emergencies! Check for a little black rope sticking out of the floorboards. Under the buffet table, I think.

Fareeha, fumbling: Let me look…yes…oh, it opens a hidden compartment! I can feel something in here…

Fareeha: …

Fareeha: Reinhardt. This is a growler filled with whiskey.

Reinhardt: Yes! Wonderful! You can handle anything now, little one!

Fareeha: …wait-

Reinhardt: Always happy to help! Just be a dear, and don’t let them use my bedroom. Bye! *disconnects*

Fareeha: …

Fareeha: This is too far above my pay grade to even deal with right now.

#meihemsecretvalentine2017 #meihem #junkmei #fanfic #sage stuff

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