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wavypotatochips · 1 year

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Omg I love the way you write for Sergio, can I request something angsty where Reader and Sergio are dating and she feels like someone been following her for weeks but she never told anyone and one day someone actually tried to harass her like she has a stalker and Sergio finds her crying at home so he gets all protective please? Thank you so much

𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐲 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝 | 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 𝐑𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐬

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: Sergio Ramos x Female Reader

Word Count : 2k

𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: I am so glad you like my writing style! Of course I can write your request (: I am sorry this took me such a long time to post c': Thank you so much for your patience!! I Hope you like how I represent your idea ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚!!

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Anxiety Attack, Paranoia, Being Chased, and Suggestive Stalking.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ REQUESTS ARE OPEN, currently covered in college work so as of now uploads will mainly be on weekends. Thank you for your patience c’: ♥

𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣. 𝙉𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙚𝙭𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚.

You tell yourself, "Come on, it's just your mind playing tricks on you," as you pick up the pace. You decided to get some fresh air and visit a neighborhood café for a cup of coffee and a snack. However, as you leave your car and cross the street to the cafe, you can't help but feel eyes on you once again. You try your very best to ignore the feeling by telling yourself that you are just being paranoid, but the unease didn't go away. Every time you left your house in the previous several weeks, whether it was to get the mail or go grocery shopping, you couldn't help but sense that someone was watching you. The eyes felt more like those of a predator, with you as its target, than like normal paparazzi seeking to obtain content. As you thought you could be overreacting, you were hesitant to tell Sergio Ramos about it. Yet, as this feeling grew stronger, you began to suspect that you aren't hallucinating.

You quickly cross the street after checking both directions. The familiar prickling sensation at the back of your neck, the sensation of being watched, returns. Even though you made an effort, it was difficult to shake off. As you quickly open the door to the cafe, you scan around to see if you recognize anyone, but all you see are random individuals going about their daily lives. You could not escape the impression that someone was following you even though there was nobody you could recognize. Your thoughts were plagued by it constantly, like a weight on your shoulders. As your thoughts start to stray, your pulse rate increases as you patiently wait in line. What if someone is really following me? What if they have bad intentions? What if today is the day they will come out of the shadows?, you think to yourself.

The employee interrupts your train of thinking with "Ma'am? ", leading you to look up. You flinch slightly at the sound of their voice and mumble a sorry before hastily approaching the cashier. "May I have one iced Americano with a pumpkin loaf?" She nods and puts everything in, and as you take out your wallet to retrieve your card, the employee says, "Well someone already paid for it so you don't have to worry!" As you heard this, your eyes widened. In order to not appear suspicious, you just gave the clerk a slight smile. "Can you tell me who it was? Just so I may personally thank them." "Sorry ma'am, I don't know," the cashier says while shaking their head. " Someone from the drive-through apparently noticed you and asked if they could pay for you." You simply nod your head and proceed to the location where you will retrieve your items. You kept looking around, trying to spot anyone who might be watching you. You were wearing clothes to disguise yourself so that no one would notice you, including sunglasses, a cap, and a tracksuit, so you knew that someone pin-pointing you was not a coincidence.

You lightly bite the inside of your lower lip, deciding it would be best to just leave the cafe and return home as soon as possible. Since you had no idea which drink would be yours, you made sure to observe every employee make it, but just to be cautious, nothing was added. Your name is called a short while later, indicating that the employee is holding your order. You swiftly leave the store after saying a short thank you to the employee. As you exit, you take a drink of your iced americano and sigh slightly as the beverage's chilly sensation spreads throughout your body. To get back to your car, which is situated in a medium parking lot, you swiftly cross the street. You are ready to take another sip as you make your way to your car but stop yourself when you notice someone in all black pulling something out from under your vehicle. When you watch the person inspect what appears to be an airtag, your heart seems to skip a beat. They have been tracking your location this entire time. Accidentally stepping on a chip bag as you slowly start to back up causes the person to look up at you as soon as they hear the bag crumble. To prevent you from recognizing them, they are hiding their face with a ski mask. Five seconds pass before they start to run in your direction, which causes you to scream, hurl the coffee at them, and immediately run away from them. Running deeper into the parking lot was not the best course of action; rather, it would have been better to return to the coffee shop. Yet, your feet started to move before you had time to stop and consider. "Y/N, my sweetheart! HOW DID THE COFFEE GO? I HAD BEEN DYING TO MEET YOU AND I KNOW THIS IS YOUR FAVORITE PLACE! ILL TREAT YOU SO GOOD MY LOVE" The person yells, prompting your adrenaline to skyrocket. By the way they spoke, this person appeared to be an obsessed stalker rather than someone who was trying to harm you. They kept gushing about how wonderful you are and how they would treat you so well. Running as rapidly as you could through the parking lot, you duck behind a car, trying to mask the sound of your labored breathing while doing so. The figure, who we now know to be a man, was likewise panting rapidly as he swung his head from side to side in an effort to find you. He turns and asks, "My Love, where did you go?" before running the other way. Thank goodness, he fled the other way, and as soon as you saw him go farther than you had been, you sprint to your car.

As soon as you got in your car, you sped off to your house. Should you have dialed 911? Definitely. But right now, all you wanted was to feel secure, and the only place you felt secure was at home. You drove while sternly fighting back the tears since you didn't want to endanger other drivers or yourself. The energy spike from the adrenaline has your entire body shaking, and it keeps doing so even after you go home.

You swiftly pull into your driveway, park the car, and enter your home. Your cheeks start to get wet as the tears that had been pleading to come out finally do. You raise your arms over your head and place your hands on top of your head as you hyperventilate, hoping that this will force air into your lungs. While you recall the events that happened, your mind feels like it is racing at 100 mph. You begin to reflect on all of your suspicions, believing that you were overreacting when, in fact, you were not. Your body continues to shiver as you pace back and forth, feeling increasingly nervous that the mysterious person is watching you in various ways. What if they hacked into your phone? What if there's actually a camera in your house right now? Your overthinking causes your head to pound, and you start crying because you're unsure of what to do. You were so preoccupied with your thoughts that you failed to see Sergio coming your way. Sergio was exercising in the gym room while wearing headphones, so he was oblivious to your entrance. He only became aware of your entrance when he noticed the mirror in the exercise room wobbling slightly as a result of you slamming the door. He removes his headphones, exits the room, and enters the living room while wearing only a pair of futebol shorts. He grinned broadly in anticipation of seeing the love of his life, but as soon as his eyes met yours, his smile vanished and he hurried to your side.

He frantically asks, "My love, what happened?!?" while placing his hands on your sides and bending slightly at the knees in an effort to look into your eyes. When you first saw him in front of you, you immediately embraced him and sobbed into his neck. He was sweaty, but you didn't mind because you just wanted to be near him. incredibly close. Sergio pulls you up by the thighs and walks over to a neighboring couch. He reclines with you on his lap and gives you a comforting back rub. He waited patiently for the right moment since he knew that in the heat of the moment, it would be preferable to keep silent so you can calm down a bit. You start sniffing around ten minutes later when you eventually start to feel a little calmer. When Sergio notices that you are frowning, he lifts your head off his shoulder to look at your face. He asks calmly, "What happened, my love?," as he uses his thumb to dab the tears off of your now-red, tear-stained cheeks. " Promise not to get angry with me?," you murmur as you delicately bite your lip. "I could never be angry with you." You give him a slight nod and slide from his lap to take a seat next to him. You started spilling every detail about what had been happening over the last few weeks as soon as you sat down next to him. Whether you check the mail, take your car to be washed, even just watering the garden in the front yard, etc…. you sense someone is watching you. And you just withheld the information from him because you were unsure of whether you were overreacting. You also explained how only when you are with him, and only him, do you ever feel secure.

Sergio's face became more enraged the more you expressed. You were aware that the unknown person was the target of the rage, not you. Sergio is a fiercely protective boyfriend who would stop at nothing to ensure the safety and well-being of you. His anger quickly flared up knowing that you felt threatened. He thinks about what he will do when he finds this man, including beating him until he is reduced to a pulp and forcing him to make apologies to you. How could anyone think they could love you more than he could? When it comes to providing you with the finest, he is the best.

He slowly gets to his feet, making you bite your bottom lip as you wait to see what he will do next. He is now the one who is pacing back and forth. "My love, I'm very sorry that I am unable to provide you with the comfort you may need at this time. I am beyond furious that this has happened to you. When you are not with me, I will hire full-time protection for you." He's starting to overreact now, so you say, "Babe," in an effort to attract his attention. "Well, you know what," he bellows as he continues to ramble, ignoring you. You'll always be with me since you're only comfortable when you are with me. I'll now make sure to always be by your side no matter what.” You call out, "Baby," once again in an effort to grab his attention. “I'll make sure you're able to attend all team practices and activities, or I won't play. Easy as that. Let me just fetch my phone and I'll figure it all out," he says, patting his shorts. After shouting "Baby!" a little louder and getting out of the chair, he eventually stops talking and turns to face you. You approach him and put your arms around his waist while giving him a little smile as you glance up at him in an attempt to calm him down. "How about we buy some Chinese food, cuddle on the couch, and ask Justin to get it for us?" You give him those puppy dog eyes, trying to get him to agree to text one of the security guards you two already have, "We can talk about this tomorrow when we both are more clear in our heads." Because of the anxiety episode you just experienced, your mind is clouded, and you can see that Sergio's mind is not in the proper state to be making decisions. Sergio's actions may have appeared possessive or controlling to an outsider, but you were aware that they were motivated by love and compassion. You were pleased to have him as your partner and appreciated his constant commitment to your safety and security.

He exhales, venting his irritation, and then nods in agreement with your suggestion. "Okay, but give me a minute to shower first. I'll text Justin before I enter so that maybe when I exit he will already be here." You give him a cheek kiss while standing on your tiptoes saying, "Thank you, baby." You didn't want to panic over someone who was nowhere near you right now; all you wanted to do was cuddle with your boyfriend. You will undoubtedly make a police report tomorrow, but for the moment, you only wanted to be with Sergio. He runs his hand through his hair and sighs, " Y/N…..You're going to be the death of me."

#sergio ramos imagine #Sergio ramos one shot #Sergio ramos fanfic #Sergio ramos x y/n #Sergio Ramos x reader #football fanfic #football imagine #female reader #soccer x reader #x reader #footballer x reader #soccer imagine #psg imagines #Sergio Ramos #Ramos x y/n #Ramos one shot #Sergio Ramos angst

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thunderboltage · 2 years

Text

You're THAT Type of Customer ~ One Piece Characters as Annoying Customers

Totally Legit Headcanons that Actually Happened or Not Yet | Chapter 18

Ace

Scans Kool-Aid packets instead of the 65” inch TV that’s in his cart. If he’s eating in a restaurant, he might do ‘cool tricks’ with his water and leave the tip under an upside down glass of water or leave poorly crafted origami dollars.

Akainu

Will put the money on the counter despite seeing your hand stretched out to receive it and won’t utter a single a word when spoken to. May or may not take the receipt when you hand it to him, but will surely leave it on the counter despite being asked if he wanted it or not AND there being a trashcan there at the register and on the way out of the store.

Brook

Gets super gushy when asked for his I.D.

Buggy

Gets very irate if the manager refuses his expired coupons or if they refuse to accept his 90+ day old merchandise/return without a receipt.

Chopper

Speaks so softly that the cashier can’t hear a single word. No matter how polite the tone when being asked, he might cry having to repeat himself. If he’s in a fast food drive thru, he might just leave, avoiding having to face the embarrassment.

Corazon

Accidentally bumps into the display and completely destroys it.

Doflamingo

Will watch the cart attendants clear the cart corral after bussing them all inside – making full eye contact – and will still leave his cart parked by his car instead of taking it to the cart corral. Maybe when he’s feeling nice, he’ll push a small cart into the stall with the bigger carts, despite the two stalls already separating the small carts from the bigger carts. Of course, not a moment later, the carts become chaotic when both stalls become filled with alternating sizes.

Franky

Will hand the cashier his trash to throw away.

Garp

“Working hard or hardly working??! BAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Jinbei

Although patient, he’s always lane hopping to the shortest line, only for that register to close.

Kaido

Goes from 0 to 100 when asked if wants to make a donation to charity

Kid

Not above leaving frozen food items on a shelf if he changes his mind and he's away from the freezer section.

Law

Will recite all of the produce item numbers to the cashier to make sure they’re rung up correctly. Will also make sure that nothing else is added weight on the scale and ask for all of the soft items back as soon as they’re scanned so they don’t get squished. Is not above asking for fresh tomatoes if he feels that they’ve been bruised.

Luffy

Will eat the grapes and other miscellaneous foods that need to be weighed first before checking out. May unintentionally leave a trail of food as he meanders throughout the store and can potentially eat his entire basket empty depending on how hungry he is.

Marco

will decide that the cashier looks bored, so that’s why he chose their line

Nami

Complains about how expensive every item is while eyeing the cashier, hoping for a discount.

Rayleigh

Will hear the keypad chiming and watch the screen say ‘Please Remove Card’ for like, 3 minutes before actually removing his card from the chip reader.

Robin

Always has the digital coupons that never scan correctly on the phone.

Sabo

Comes into the store 5 minutes before closing and can’t remember what it was he needed in the first place.

Sanji

Asks for an incredibly specific product, and if the store doesn’t have it, he’ll ask if there’s any ‘in the back’, just to make sure.

Smoker

Cuts the cashier off mid-greeting, especially when asking for some smokes. May also point to several locations in the tobacco box for the cigars that are ‘obviously right there’.

Usopp

Will leave an entire cart of merchandise sitting in the middle of the aisle when he realizes he forgot his wallet.

Whitebeard

Asks for senior discount, without fail. If there’s no senior discount, he’ll ask for an employee discount. The worse they can say is ‘no’, right?

Zoro

Will leave the line, having forgot an item and will end up re-entering the store 40 minutes later, somehow with the item in hand??? Where did he go???

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ventihonklightice · 3 years

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period pains || sapnap

Sapnap x fem!reader

Word count: 1.5k words

Summary: Sapnap, being the amazing, super, terrific boyfriend he is, went to buy y/n tampons. needless to say, she got plenty.

Moving in with Sapnap and Dream was exciting. It got to the point where Y/n was at their house almost everyday, so it was an easy acclimation. At first, Y/n was nervous about how living with her boyfriend’s best friend would work, but it was surprisingly more manageable than she thought. She wasn’t nervous about walking around Dream anymore, though her cheeks would glow a particular shade of red after late night rendezvous with Sapnap that he pretended to not hear. Little did she know, he spared her the mockery by privately doing so to Sapnap.

Currently though on a somewhat cloudy Florida day, her boyfriend was out with said best friend and roommate before the Texan received a text.

y/n <3

do you love me

He put down his drink at the sight of the notification popping up on his phone, quirking a brow at his girlfriend’s words while his friend proceeded to eat his meal.

sappy pandas

of course I do

where’s this coming from?

Sapnap was slightly concerned, knowing Y/n to be more reserved when asking for his affirmation of love.

y/n <3

since you love me

can you pretty pretty pretty pls

get me tampons

and stuff

I am suffering

He chuckled at the multiple text bubbles that appeared on his screen, causing Dream to divert his attention from his food to his friend’s phone.

sappy pandas

oh shit

I’m sorry :((

We’ll be back in 30 or 40 minutes <3

Y/N groaned, not being able to take the pain any longer and just wanting cuddles with her boyfriend, though regardless, she appreciated his actions.

y/n <3

omg thank you

thank you

I love you so much

Sapnap smiled widely, quickly moving his fingers to text a reply. “Y/n?” Dream asked, taking yet another bite. Sapnap just nodded his head, focused on his girl.

sappy pandas

yeah yeah love you too baby

“Can we stop by Walgreens or something on the way back? She needs stuff,” he spoke to Dream who was currently scarfing down the rest of the food. He nodded his head, still chewing.

“Also, can we order her food?” Sapnap asked shyly. Dream chuckled at the comment, “oh so now I’m both your AND her sugar daddy? I’m going broke because of you two.”

Sapnap blushed, feeling bad about making the blond pay even though he almost always insisted. “I-I’ll pay for it dude, it’s not a big deal.”

Dream shook his head, taking a sip of his soda, “no. Never. I literally asked you to come here, I’m not making you pay for shit.”

The waitress came back, taking the plates and asking if we’d like a check, with the boys instead asking for a menu.

Half an our later, the pair was going across the street of the restaurant and to the drugstore. “What does she need anyways?” Dream asked, following Sapnap’s footsteps.

“Tampons and stuff,” he almost whispered, uncomfortable with the words and also not wanting others to hear him mutter them. “Oh,” Dream answered shortly as they made a bee line to the ‘feminine hygiene’ aisle. Needless to say, the men were overwhelmed.

“Why are there so many?” Sapnap asked as his eyes scanned over various pink and purple packages. “Text her and ask her exactly what she needs,” Dream suggested, eyes also scanning the products before him.

It had been five minutes and Y/N had yet to respond. Sapnap groaned, “what do I do?” His friend shrugged before a very dumb idea crossed his mind. “Just like, get a bunch.”

Sapnap looked at his friend and blinked before speaking “that’s a great idea.” They went to go grab a shopping cart before they began to fill it with various types of cotton.

“No, Sapnap that’s underwear,” Dream spoke as he saw his friend grab diaper like underwear, “it’s for bladder problems or something.”

Sapnap quickly put it back before looking at tampax, “okay but these are definitely tampons.” He grabbed those, along with several other brands and sizes. He moved onto pads, doing the exact same thing.

“This looks... fine,” Sapnap spoke as he examined the sheer amount of cotton recently thrown into the cart. He pushed the cart until reaching the candy aisle. He wanted to buy her some in hopes of making her feel better. So, he took various chocolates alongside her favorite candy and went to go grab pain relievers before approaching the register.

The cashier looked between the cart and the two men scurrying to put the period products onto the counter, forcing a muffled laugh out of Dream. “Find everything okay?” She muttered, scanning the items that Sapnap began to place on the counter, a line forming behind them.

“Uh y-yes thank you,” Sapnap stuttered, placing the candy down last.

“That’s gonna be $198.46,” she expressed as Sapnap fumbled with his debit card, Dream already carrying most of the bags. The two men hurriedly left the store.

“That was so embarrassing. There was a line and everything, oh my god those people must think I’m crazy,” Sapnap muttered, rubbing his hands over his face.

“This-This is definitely a little overboard,” Dream spoke as he slammed the trunk closed.

“It’s fine. This is fine. I don’t want her to like, not have the stuff she needs. I’d feel awful,” Sapnap spoke as he opened the passenger seat door. “Whatever you say pandas.”

Never receiving a text from Y/N, Sapnap assumed that she had been asleep. Dream helped him carry the various bags of tampons and food into the house, but thought it’d be best to let his friend carry them to his girlfriend.

So, Sapnap did so, just very loudly. He stumbled into the bedroom, his eyes landing on his girlfriend. Through the ruffling of the bags and his loud footsteps she began to stir about. “Sapnap?” She mumbled tiredly, his form looking like a blob in her sleepy daze.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he whispered, gently placing down the bags by his bed before leaning over to kiss her forehead.

“Did you go to the store?” She asked, her eyes opening more and more. He scratched his neck as he looked at the bags, “yeah. I just- I just didn’t know what you needed so...”

His voice trailed off as he bent down to grab the bags, “I kind of bought a lot.” Y/N sat up slowly examining the bags with wide eyes, a hand covering her mouth to stifle her laughs.

“Baby,” she giggled, moving to get up to go towards the bags before Sapnap stopped her. “Stay put, I’ll bring the bags to you m’lady,” he spoke with a posh British accent on his last word. Y/n smiled and watched as he grabbed the bags and tossed them by her legs, finally settling onto the bed next to her.

“This is so much,” she muttered going through bag after bag, “you are so sweet.”

Sapnap turned red at her words, watching her go through them to find what she needed, “w-we could donate them or something?”

Y/n let out a scoff, stopping her movements to look at him, “literally the sweetest man. How’d I get this lucky?”

“Yeah I’m literally perfect,” Sapnap spoke sarcastically, leaning his head on her shoulder. Y/n giggled once more, finding the bag that had the reciept and pulling out the long pice of paper. Her eyes went wide as she looked at the total, “two hundred dollars!”

Sapnap snatched up the receipt before she could examine it further, “don’t worry about it.”

Y/n shook her head proceeding to dig through the bags, “and you got me candy? And medicine?”

Her eyes began to tear up as she threw her arms around Sapnap, startling him. “It was nothing,” he muttered softly, wrapping his arms around her torso gently.

“You’re the first guy that’s ever done this for me. Actually care and shit,” she sniffled, her words muffled in his chest. Sapnap’s eyes softened and he carded his fingers through her hair, “well it’s cause I love you and I think you deserve the world. And if making a Walgreens go tampon bankrupt does that, then I’m okay with it.”

Y/n chuckled at his words, pulling away to wipe tears off her face. “I love you too,” she expressed with a slightly exhausted tone. A soft smile appeared on the Texan’s features,

“D-Do you want me to run a bath or something? Or we got you food. It’s in the kitchen and I’ll grab it if you want,” he explained as he laid back onto the beg, dragging Y/n with him softly.

“Can we just lay here for a minute?” Y/n asked, snuggling further into his chest.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he mumbled, kissing the top of her head. He continued to run his fingers through her hair, eventually hearing light and steady snores from the girl on his chest. He couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

#sapnap imagine #Sapnap x reader #Sapnap fanfiction #Sapnap fanfic #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken #dream smp #Sapnap #Sapnap x Dream #dream #mcyt #sapnap fluff

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bestiesenpai · 3 years

Text

firsts with Gojo Satoru

Every day I’m reminded that Gojo is 6.3ft and every day I remind myself that I could still slap the shit out of him and I wouldn’t even have to reach that high. That is what brings me inner peace.

First meeting

It’s not often that the Gojo Satoru is tasked with cleaning up curses of any grade less than level 1, but sometimes while he was casually out and about he would see a few and handle them with no issue

Like the cluster of fly heads going through the street, harassing people

It takes him no time at all to get to them, a few long strides and he’s there

With a swipe of his hand, the curses are expelled, gone from the world and no longer causing havoc

“What were those things?” A curious voice asks off to the side. Lowering his sunglasses, Satoru turns to the person looking at where the curses had just been.

“What things?” He feigns ignorance and it makes you snort.

“Those flying things you just got rid of. I was watching them for a while, they were pretty annoying.” While you’re talking, Satoru is sizing you up. He can sense just a tiny bit of cursed energy coming from you, not enough to be of any use except for the ability to see curses.

Worrying his lip, Satoru debated on how much he should tell you, if anything at all. He thought you were cute, so maybe he could tell you a little bit and then lead it into another conversation...maybe get your number.

“Are you okay?” Suddenly you’re closer to him than you were before. In all his going back and forth he’d failed to see you take a few steps closer and peer at him, that curious look back in your eyes. “Try not to think too hard, mister, I wouldn’t want your pretty face to get all wrinkled now.”

Satoru actually laughs at that, his chest nearly bumping into you with how close you two are now. He even bends a little at the waist, completely caught off guard by how you, a perfect stranger, have just spoken to him.

“Ya know, that’s not the usual response I get from people.” Fixing his glasses on his head, Satoru fixes you with a smirk he knows people swoon over. “And my name’s not ‘mister’. It’s Satoru, Gojo Satoru.”

“Okay.” His smirk wavers just slightly when he realizes you’re not exactly falling into his arms, just nodding and then you’re pointing to the sky where the fly heads had been. “So Gojo, what were those things?”

First hangout

Gojo does end up telling you the truth about the flyheads and you take it better than he was expecting

He was quick to get your first and last name, maybe you were from a family of sorcerers...but you weren’t. Just a normal person who saw him expel some curses

The conversation quickly ends after he’s done explaining it to you, much to his chagrin. He’d laid on the charm thick, hoping you’d ask for his number or for an opportunity for him to ask, but none came

When he was done telling you about the curses, you gave him a brief pat on the arm, thanked him and went about your day

There was a soft smile on your face as you walked away, and the feeling of your hand still lingered on his arm

Gojo wanted to see you again, but he knew he might never

“Oh, hello Gojo.” Your voice pops up again in an unexpected place, the candy section of a local convenience store near the train station he’d just exited.

“Huh?” He turns, surprised to see you and surprised that you addressed him so casually. It was indeed you, the person he’d seen before and wanted to get to know better.

“Hm, is it not you? I don’t know anyone else that tall with white hair.” Scratching your cheek, you give him a once over.

“It is me.” He’s quick to answer before you apologize and walk away.

“Ha, knew it.” A sly grin comes on your face and Satoru grins in return, his chest tightening a little bit. Rocking on your heels, you gesture to the candy in front of you. “What’s your poison?”

“Everything.” Snorting, Satoru looks at the candy briefly, eyes scanning on all the ones he’s tried.

“Ouch, sounds like a serious sweet tooth.” Chuckling to yourself, you reach out and grab a bag of sour gummies. “These are my favorite, have you tried them?” He has and he kind of hates them, but he picks up a bag anyway and pretends to read it over.

“No, I haven’t. They’re your favorite, you say?” You nod and he holds them more securely in his hand. “Alright, I’ll get them. And this.” Snatching up a chocolate bar he knows he actually likes, Satoru walks with you to the checker and puts his items on top of yours. “I’ll pay.”

You don’t fight him on paying, thanking him with a smile and another pat on his arm. As you walk out of the shop, Satoru nearly puts his arm around your shoulder. It feels like the two of you are on a casual snack run together before going somewhere to watch a movie or something. Even though you’re a stranger, Satoru feels like you already belong together.

“Well, it was nice seeing you again.” You say, snapping him out of his delusion. “What are your plans for the day?” It’s a wonderful day in a suburb of Tokyo, near the place you’d first met. The sun is beaming but not too hot, there’s fluffy white clouds scattered around the sky and a light breeze.

“Nothing, honestly.” Shrugging his shoulder, Satoru looks up and down the street. Honestly, he did have something to do, he was supposed to meet Ijichi for a little meeting with a few other people. But if he was being honest, he’d gladly be late or even skip it entirely if it meant talking to you more.

“Really? Well if you’re into them, there’s a really good cafe just around the corner. I think you’d like it.” Oh shit, were you asking to hang out with him? Or was this more of a date? Watching you take out your phone, Satoru is confused when you pull up a GPS. “If you want, I’ll send you the address.”

Wait...what? Looking at you with clear confusion on his face, Satoru points down the street.

“Let’s go there together, since we’re already here.” Your eyes widen a fraction of an inch, but Satoru can easily see the miniscule way your face changes. Putting your phone away, you take a step down the street.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Once at the cafe, Satoru feels in heaven. It’s a space made for intimate conversations with closed off booths lining the walls and the rich dark colors decorating the space. It feels almost like a lounge instead of a cafe, but when he sees the menu and there’s no alcohol, he’s reminded of what it is.

“I like to get an earl gray and some macarons.” You tell him as you stand by the counter, looking up at the menu.

“I’m going to get that super chocolate cake.”

“That’s so much chocolate!” Chuckling, you walk up to the waiting cashier, wallet already out. “Go ahead and order, Gojo, I’ll pay.”

You don’t end up paying, actually. Gojo quickly plucked your wallet from your hands and put his money down instead. It wasn’t that he was trying to impress you by paying for everything, but he kind of was. He wanted you to know he was dependable.

Sliding into a booth, he can feel your knees knocking together, legs sliding between one another as you get comfortable. With the light from the window illuminating you, Satoru wished he could take a picture of you.

“Let me know how you like it.” Taking a sip of your tea, you watch him expectantly. Not one to disappoint an audience, Satoru takes a bite of the cake and lets out a pleased hum.

“(Y/N), this is great.” He practically moans, eagerly taking another bite.

“Knew you would like it.” You’ve got a silly smile spreading your cheeks wide, and Satoru lifts his hand up, wanting to pinch your cheek.

“You’ve got good taste.” He says instead, putting his elbow on the table to cover up his attempt at trying to touch your face. “I really like it here.”

You’re a very big reason why he likes it there.

First date

Gojo makes sure to get your number after that, he refuses to miss an opportunity like that

He can’t risk the possibility of just ‘maybe’ running into you again, he needs to insert himself into your life more than just chance run-ins

Gojo is a great texter, you’ll learn that quickly. He messages you back promptly, having riveting conversations with each other and sometimes calling on the phone as well

Whenever his phone goes off and it’s not you he automatically deflates, and has on more than one occasion answered the phone and opened up the conversation with ‘you’re not (Y/N), but I guess I have time to talk’ with a big dramatic sigh after

He asks you out the second he has a free day, just begging and hoping you’re also available

And with his oh so good luck, you are!

“How’d I know you’d pick an arcade?” You chuckle as you approach his waiting figure outside the building. Satoru is dressed nicely, but not too much. A smart bomber jacket with a plain black shirt underneath and jeans, not overdressed but more put together than his everyday look. And of course, his signature glasses.

“I have to show you I’m the best at everything.” Opening the door for you, he’s eager to get started on playing some games. “(Y/N), wander around and see what you wanna do first, I’ll exchange some money.”

“Okay.” You’ve given up on trying to pay for things when Satoru is around, he will adamantly refuse. Wandering around the arcade floor between the different machines, your eyes settle on a claw machine, a cute Pikachu plush just sitting there waiting for you.

“Gojo.” You’re bouncing on your heels watching him exchange money, and as soon as he collects all the coins you grab him by the hand and bring him to the claw machine. A light pink tinge paints his cheeks and he doesn’t look away from your hands connected together until you let go and tap on the glass. “Look at this plush! It needs me.”

“Here, try for it.” Putting a generous amount of coins in the machine, Satoru stands next to you and watches as you try to pick it up with the claw several times but fail. The plush doesn’t move at all with any of your attempts, making a frustrated whine leave the back of your throat.

“Pikachu, I love you.” You say, dramatically putting a hand on your heart and looking at the plush.

“Let me try, I’ll get it.” Confidently stepping up to the controller, Satoru smirks and taps the glass. “I’ll get the little guy real easy.”

“Mhmm, whatever you say.” Rolling your eyes, you stand close to him, eyes watching keenly as the claw moves. Grabbing onto the plush, Satoru manages to move it a good few inches towards the opening. “Satoru!” You gasp, grabbing onto his arm as he moves the plush again and it nearly falls in. His cheeks tinge a little when you say his first name.

“Told you.” He could feel himself getting distracted with the way both of your hands are now clinging to his arm, practically hugging it to your body. It only takes two more tries before the plush falls into the opening and the machine lets out a victory noise.

“Awesome!” You’re so excited that you jump a little bit in joy and actually do hug his arm tightly before letting go. Putting the plush in your hands, Satoru watches as you cutely squish it with your hands and smile.

“What other plush do you want? I’ll win them all.”

He did indeed win all the plushies and toys you wanted. He always let you try first, wanting to see if you could do it on your own, but more often than not he proved the title ‘best at everything’ wasn’t just for show.

Moving on from the claw games, you played the other arcade games around. Mario kart, random rhythm games and even scary shooters, Satoru played them all with you. Sometimes he let you win, other times he completely destroyed you. And when something scared you, he was always there to put an arm around your shoulder and protect you.

First confession

You spend far too many hours in the arcade, playing game after game and accumulating an obscene amount of claw game prizes

Gojo doesn’t joke around damnit!

He also forces Ijichi to come and drive you home lol and he sits in the backseat with you, holding your hand and playing with your fingers while you make friendly conversation with Ijichi

Carrying the bag full of plushies to your door, Gojo sets them in the threshold of your apartment before looking back at you

The open door is like a void just begging for Satoru to step into. The soft overhead light you’d flicked on was enough to illuminate a little more of your apartment, and from what Satoru could see it was nicely decorated and smelled like flowers.

“I had a lot of fun tonight.” Biting your lip, you look at him for just a moment before looking away again, rocking back and forth on your feet bashfully.

“I did too.” Satoru means it, he’s already planning the next date in his head and the best way to shove his responsibilities onto others so his schedule opens up. Grabbing your hand, he laces your fingers together and holds it up to his chest. “I hope I can see you again soon. I really like you (Y/N).”

“I like you a lot too.” You’re too embarrassed to say anything more, continuing to bite your lip and letting Satoru squeeze your hand. Slowly, the two of you shuffle closer to each other, and Satoru brushes the tips of his fingers along your face, subtly tilting it up so he can kiss you.

Just as he gets close enough to feel your breath, a sharp baby's cry sounds from the apartment next to yours and it makes you jump. There’s shuffling inside and then the door is thrown open and a tired looking man in old sweats comes running out.

“Oh, hi (Y/N)!”

“Hi Mr. Yoo. What’re you doing out?” Turning to him, you try to play off the fact that you were just caught almost kissing in front of your door.

“I realized we’re all out of diapers! I have to go get some stat.” He barely pays Satoru any attention, quickly rushing off with a brief goodbye.

Now the moment had been ruined, you were too far now and you’d pulled your hands away when the door was opened. Stepping into your apartment, you give a lingering look at Satoru’s lips before meeting his eyes.

“Text me when you get home.” You say, and with a soft goodbye you close the door and Satoru leaves.

First kiss

Getting blue balled by a baby was definitely not in Gojos five year plan

He literally can’t wait until you see each other again, he’s obsessing about kissing you

Applies lip balm like it’s the only thing keeping him alive, the man would rather swallow a jean jacket than have you kiss dry lips

Any amount of time apart from you is painful and it’s only made worse when his schedule becomes full, too tightly packed to move anything around

He’s keeping up with you through text and calls but it’s not enough for him, and he lets you know almost every time you call that he wants to be with you, be able to physically touch you and see you

When there’s a little festival in Tokyo and Nobara and Itadori are begging to go, Gojo uses it as a chance to see you again

“Hi everyone!” You’re very excited to meet Satoru’s students. He hadn’t told you he was a teacher, all he said was he exorcised curses.

“Hi!” Itadori is excited to meet you, Nobara is excited to see who’s been taking up all of her teacher's time and Fushiguro is just there, curious about you but too aloof to ask any questions.

“So I take it Satoru teaches you guys how to get rid of those curses and stuff, huh?” Your question floored them, and even Fushiguro was looking at you with wide eyes.

“(Y/N) can see curses.” Satoru steps in, putting an arm around your shoulders.

“Yeah, I guess I can see a little bit of cursed energy.” Nobara mutters. Truthfully, they were all too busy asking you questions and looking at how pretty you were to notice cursed energy.

“You guys are really brave! Some of those curses are really scary.” Shivering as you recall one you’d seen recently(and texted Satoru about), you point toward the festival stalls. “But you guys probably don’t wanna talk about work, huh? Let’s go get some food, I’ll pay.”

“Sorry (Y/N), we’re under strict orders not to accept your money.” Making an X with his arms, he and Nobara shook their heads.

“Satoru!” Slapping his chest playfully, you start to walk through the festival. “Let me pay for something, you’re gonna go broke at this rate!”

“Nope, not happening.” Keeping you close to him, Satoru makes sure you don’t pay for a single thing. He’d purposefully brought a lot of cash to this knowing that the kids would go absolutely crazy - and that he wanted to spoil you some more to make up for his absence.

As the night progresses, the students get more and more distant. Satoru had briefed them on the way that it was purely a date between you and him and that they were just tagging along and not to stick around for too long.

“This snow ice is so good!” At a more secluded spot at the festival, you and Satoru find a bench to sit at and enjoy the frozen treat he’d bought.

“Feed me.” Opening his mouth, Satoru sticks his tongue out obnoxiously while waiting for you.

“You’re gonna drool on yourself.” You laugh, quickly scooping some up and putting it in his mouth. Holding your hand, Satoru lets the ice fully dissolve before pulling the spoon out. He wants to make a teasing sexual comment, but a loud boom sounds in the sky before he can.

“Fireworks.” He whispers, looking up at the sky as it’s illuminated with bright flashes of light. You let out a noise in awe of the display, and Satoru is suddenly staring right at you. Looking at the way your eyes reflect the light, he can’t stop himself from leaning forward.

“Sa-” Turning your head at the same time he’s about to kiss your cheek, your lips connect. You gasp, and if Satoru hadn’t also been holding onto the snow ice it would have fallen from your hand.

He doesn’t miss an opportunity though, pressing firmly on your lips and tilting his head a little. Your eyes flutter closed, and you pull away for a brief moment to lick your lips before going back in. The sound of fireworks continue to boom above you, continuing to flash light across your closed eyes. It all adds to the experience of kissing Satoru.

“You taste so sweet.” He says when you pull away to breathe, keeping his face close enough that he can rub his nose against yours.

“Shut up.” Satoru can practically feel the heat radiating off your face and it makes him chuckle. Giving you another kiss, he pulls away when the fireworks stop going off. The smile you have on your face warms his heart, his cheeks a light red color to show for it.

“Looks like we’ll need more ice.” Holding up the melting treat, a little pout settles on your lips and Satoru audibly coos.

“I’ll be right back.” Shooting up from the bench, he nearly runs to the stall, already hurting from being apart and eager to get back to you.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen scenarios

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phinksimp · 3 years

Text

Phantom Troupe at McDonald’s

Feitan, Chrollo, Shizuku and Phinks wandered into a McDonald’s on their way back to the hideout. Feitan scanned his surroundings, his eyes focusing on a clear box with various items inside before joining Shizuku and Chrollo. Phinks stood at the back trying to figure out the new “self-check out” booths, while the 3 black haired babes waited for someone to take their order. “Hi there! What can I get you today?” Chrollo rubbed his chin, his large eyes and strong jaw catching the attention of several of the workers. “I will have...the leader of the burgers.” The cashier tilted her head slightly. “Sorry?...You mean...the Big Mac?” Chrollo shot her a slightly annoyed look. “There is no other leader.” The cashier entered the order, still feeling confused.

It’s always the hot ones...

Shizuku pointed at the menu board. “I’d like 1 apple pie please.”

The cashier thought about suggesting the 2 apple pie deal, but was unsure of how they would react. She then directed her attention to Feitan, who she assumed was their child. “Let me guess--a happy meal for the gentleman!” Chrollo, Shizuku and Phinks held their breath-- unsure of how Feitan would react. Phinks grit his teeth. Dammit...if he loses his shit in here, he’s going to burn all the fries! I hate burnt fries...

Feitan stared at the cashier with his usual blank expression. “That is correct.”

The other 3 members looked at Feitan, shocked by his answer.

The car ride back was spent in silence, except for the sound of Feitan’s fingers rubbing against the Happy Meal box.

Several days later, the Phantom Troupe members found themselves in a tight spot against over a hundred gang members during a mission.

Nobunaga quickly sliced through 5 of the men. “Dammit! Where’s Franklin?! These guys aren’t letting us get close enough to attack!”

Feitan took everyone by surprise when he stepped to the front of the group.

Phinks wound his arm as he yelled at his comrade. “Feitan! What the hell are you doing?! Get out of there!”

Feitan smiled beneath his mask as he raised a piece of plastic in one hand, pulling what looked like a trigger. A plastic yellow disc came flying out, but was then coated in nen and fire as Feitan whispered words in his native tongue.

The disc went through the hearts of 30 men, as Feitan continued to fire the other 5 discs.

The Phantom Troupe members stood there in shock, the lifeless bodies of the gang members in front of them.

Shalnark was the first to speak. “Woah Fei! Where did you get that?! That was insane!” Nobunaga and Phinks eagerly peered over Feitan’s shoulder, feeling as if they had finally found something to aid them in long range battles.

The Phantom Troupe members were forbidden from using guns, as it was “Pakunoda’s thing”.

Feitan lifted the red toy, pointing at the big “M” symbol on the side.

“Happy. Meal.”

The members shot their heads towards Chrollo, the desperate look in their eyes conveying the message to their leader.

The black haired man spoke. “Yes, they would indeed be a benefit to our arsenal. Quickly everyone, to McDonald’s!”

The Spiders jumped up with glee, chanting “McDonald’s! McDonald’s!” As they made their way out of the gang’s headquarters.

#Phantom Troupe #phantomtroupe #chrollo #chrollolucifer #phinks #feitan #feitanporter #shizukumurasaki #pakunoda #franklinbordeau #Nobunaga Hazama #Shalnark

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cheri-translates · 4 years

Text

Headcanon - when they purchase sanitary pads for you

This work, 当他们给你买面包, was originally written by 君兮耶君兮 on Weibo, and she has given me permission to translate it 🌸

[ VICTOR ]

At this very moment, you’re seated on the toilet bowl and staring blankly into space. You’ve been so busy recently that you forgot to keep track of your menstrual cycle, resulting in a lack of ample preparation in stocking up the necessities.

You weigh your options - use toilet paper, or trouble Victor to buy the items you need.

Noticing that you’ve stayed in the bathroom for an unusually long time, Victor walks over and knocks on the door to check up on you.

“Victor, there isn’t any... at home.” You explain, embarrassed.

He lapses into a short silence. “Wait for me.”

Putting on a coat, he heads to the 24-hour convenience store to purchase pads for you. Standing in front of the shelves and eyeing the dozens of brands and sizes available, he realises that he didn’t ask which type you wanted.

A female staff notices him standing around the shelves at a complete loss. “Mister, is there anything you need?”

“Which type do girls normally use?” Victor asks, a tinge of awkwardness in his voice.

“These brands are more popular, and will usually be bought together with...” The sales assistant helps him select the items, and considerately packs them into a black coloured plastic bag.

Victor knocks on the door of the bathroom, handing the items to you.

You rummage through the articles in the bag. “I didn’t expect that you’d purchase them yourself. I even thought you’d get Goldman to do it like you did the last time.”

“I’ll handle my own wife’s matters.”

Victor will never tell you that he actually felt so embarrassed that it slipped his mind to call Goldman...

[ GAVIN ]

“Gavin... my ‘relative’ is here, but I’ve run out of...”

Hearing your voice, Gavin walks to the door of the bathroom. “W-wait for me, I’ll go buy some.”

After heating up some water in the kitchen, he flies to the nearest convenience store, wanting to return to your side as soon as he can.

“As soon as he can” turns out to be a pipe dream.

When he stands in front of the feminine product shelves, he blanks out completely.

He recalls seeing pink and blue packs in your drawer. Going by these colours, he scans the shelves and picks up a purple pack. He takes a careful look at it. “Extra long for night use...”

Then, he looks at the pink and blue pack. “Daily use... heavy flow... flow... how do you measure that?”

With this blind spot in his knowledge, yet worrying that you’re uncomfortable at home alone, he decides to get two of each type.

You’re left flabbergasted at the sight of the gigantic bag of pads. “This is...?”

“Ahem, I don’t know which type you normally use, so I bought them all.” Gavin explains, face flushed. “If there isn’t enough, I could buy more.”

You shake your head frantically. “It’s enough, it’s enough. I won’t have to buy them for the next few months.”

Later on, you’re holding the brown sugar tea Gavin prepared for you, and rubbing the arm that’s hugging you. “Gavin, did you feel embarrassed when you were buying those items?”

“I didn’t. I only felt worried that you’d be uncomfortable, so I wanted to come back as quickly as I could.” Gavin rubs your tummy, keeping it warm.

QwQ

[ LUCIEN ]

You stare at your soiled underwear in embarrassment, clutching the phone to your ear. “Could you buy some sanitary pads on your way back?”

“Is it the Little Butterfly’s menstrual period? What a pity - I even planned to take you to that satay shop you wanted to visit last time.” Lucien teases you good-naturedly.

You’re unwilling to watch the satay sticks leave.

“QwQ I can still eat them! I can!”

Lucien laughs softly.

“Little greedy cat. Remember who kept hugging me and crying that her stomach was hurting after secretly going out to have barbecue?”

You’re tongue-tied, recalling how you did bring trouble upon yourself back then. Slightly ashamed, you hurriedly hang up after saying, “Remember to get sanitary pads.”

Once you hear the doorbell ring, you rush out of bed and answer the door.

“Lucien, where’s my satay?”

He frowns when he sees that you ran out barefoot. Lifting you up, he carries you to the sofa, then drapes a blanket over your abdomen.

“It’s your special week and you’re still running around barefoot?”

He touches the tip of your nose. “There’s no satay. I only bought pads, and a cup of ginger tea.”

He hands you the bag, and you retrieve the sanitary pads. “How did you know that I normally use this type?”

“I remember everything about you.”

“Lulu QwQ”

‘What’s wrong, my silly girl?”

“I still want to eat satay.”

“...”

What should he do when his beloved is a foodie who looks for trouble?

[ KIRO ]

“Kiro Kiro Kiro Kiro!”

Kiro immediately sets down the game in his hands and rushes over. “What’s wrong, Miss Chips?”

“My ‘relative’ is here, but I’ve run out of that thing.”

Kiro sinks into silence for a moment. “Wait for me, I’ll buy it for you. What brand do you use? Which length?”

Donned in a black baseball cap and mask, Kiro furtively enters the convenience store. He selects several packets of chips from the snacks corner, then sneaks into the feminine products section to take a few packs of pads.

After stuffing the pads in between the bags of chips, he heads to the counter to make payment.

The auntie at the counter sees through Kiro’s actions in an instant. As she scans the items, she asks, “Lad, you’re buying hygiene products for your wife, right? There’s no need to be shy - loving your wife is a good thing.”

Kiro agrees awkwardly, taking the bag and fleeing from the scene, afraid the auntie would say something even more embarrassing.

After returning home, Kiro takes out the chips and hands the remaining items in the bag to you. “Miss Chips, you can’t eat chips during your special week, so I’ll eat them on your behalf~”

[ SHAW ]

“Shaw... could you come over here for a while?” You hem and haw as he looks through music scores.

“What? Your leg’s broken?”

Considering how you have a request to make, you decide not to get angry with him.

“I’ve run out of that thing. Help me buy some.” You say a little awkwardly.

“Buy what?” Shaw doesn’t understand what you mean.

“Ahhh, that thing.”

Shaw starts getting irritated. “What toy?”

“The thing girls need to use every month!!”

It dawns on him. “Oh, pads?”

“...” Isn’t he embarrassed at all? “Hurry, I need it now.”

With a click of his tongue, he obediently heads down to the convenience store to buy pads for you. He walks directly to the shelves stocked with feminine products, indifferently picks out various types of sanitary pads, then makes payment at the counter.

The young woman at the counter tosses him a few glances in disbelief. He finally lifts his head to meet her eyes. “What? You haven’t seen a guy buying pads?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” The cashier immediately retracts her gaze.

With a look of disdain on his face, he takes the transparent plastic bag and leaves. He trips on the steps near the entrance, but pretends to be unperturbed, continuing onward.

After he reaches home, he flings the bag to you. “Troublesome.”

Staring at the transparent bag with wide eyes, you lift your head to ask, “Shaw, you didn’t feel embarrassed carrying this as a man?”

He rolls his eyes. “There’s nothing I haven’t seen. What’s there to be embarrassed about?”

You click your tongue, in awe at how thick-skinned Shaw truly is.

Shaw: I was in a state of panic but I won’t give Mary Sue a chance to ridicule me.

More translated and original works: here

[ Permission to translate ]

君兮耶君兮: You can - just note the source of the author

#mlqc #mlqc victor #mlqc gavin #mlqc lucien #mlqc kiro #mlqc shaw #cheri shortcake #only two more translated headcanons left~

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women-inthe-sequel · 3 years

Note

“I said I’d take care of you, did you think I wouldn’t follow through on that?”

ao3

The day after Christmas was turning out to be a quite terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

All the best spots in the parking lot were full. The return lines were long, so much so that they nearly went out of the store and onto the sidewalk. When she gathered up the courage to use a public restroom, it was out of toilet paper and paper towels.

Or maybe the tension from yesterday’s Christmas dinner with Petunia and her new fiancé was getting to her and ruining the rest of her week.

Either way, Lily was determined to take full advantage of the merchandise credit in her hand. After waiting for several people in front of her to complain about the return policy (which Lily actually found to be rather generous), she finally had it in hand.

It came, of course, from returning that awful package from Petunia. Her present this year had come with a passive aggressive comment from her sister about still using her bedding from college. She tried to stomach the comments with non-committal statements and a forced smile, but Lily could only take so much.

It was a certain kind of Christmas miracle when Petunia closed the door behind her without either of them yelling.

After all that, Lily deserved to get a new comforter she actually liked and some of those bamboo sheets they always talked about on TV.

Her problem now was that a merchandise credit return meant she had to find something worthwhile in this particular store. What, she would like to ask, was the point of a giant sign about a forty percent off sale, if nothing actually fell under the sale?

“I’m sorry,” the woman at the counter said for the third time. “This item is excluded from discounts and coupons.”

It wasn’t her fault, Lily reminded herself. This woman probably wanted to be here even less than Lily did. It was moments like these when it became clear why some people got that haircut and started demanding to speak to the manager.

Maybe it was the manager’s fault, for putting up such a big sign and then preventing any items from allowing it to be used.

Petunia would do that. Petunia would complain and raise hell until she left the store.

Lily was not going to do that.

“Thanks anyway,” she said, taking the package back to return it to the shelf. “I’ll keep looking.”

The woman gave her a sympathetic nod.

Dejected, Lily threw the comforter back onto its pile and started down the aisle again. Damn Petunia and her ability to find everything on a perfect sale. The credit amount didn’t leave her any room, so she was never going to find something that could fit-

Oof.

When Lily turned away from the display, another person’s back blocked her. Brought up short, Lily narrowly avoided actually running into him. Her luck, she would be the person lost in her head enough to knock over someone in the bedding aisle of a department store.

“Sorry,” Lily said, putting her hand on a shelf to steady herself. “I guess I was a little distracted.”

When she looked up to see him properly, Lily could have been distracted for a whole new set of reasons. He had such richly colored eyes, more than a few inches on her height, and that kind of comfortable smile that hinted at self-assuredness.

She could already hear what Mary would say if she was here.

“Don’t worry about it,” the other person said, now turned to her. He grinned and lifted his hand to his hair, running his fingers through it. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Lily said quickly. “I’m having a minor shopping crisis, but it’s really nothing. My sister’s great for causing these kinds of things.”

Oh God, why was she rambling?

He chuckled. “Maybe I can take care of it. What kind of shopping crisis are we dealing with?”

Desperate times and nearly an hour looking at comforters called for desperate measures. If someone in this store had the time to help her, she wasn’t really in the position to be declining assistance. The poor woman at the counter had enough people to deal with on the day after Christmas without her bringing up another one that didn’t qualify for the sale.

Lily held out the plastic card with the store credit. “My sister gave me a few snarky comments and an ugly comforter for Christmas. I returned it, thank God, but they could only give me store credit.”

He nodded and waved for her to go on.

“Now I’m back here,” Lily continued, “trying to find something that will work and still fit in the amount she spent, since she’s apparently a sale whisperer. Or maybe the horrible stuff is the only kind on sale. I don’t know, but I think I might be stuck in some kind of neverending bedding loop. Really, I just want to get out of here and get an Auntie Anne’s pretzel.”

If only Mary was here to see her.

His grin widened, so she mustn’t have scared him too much. Maybe she was tame to deal with compared to the Christmas Eve shoppers.

“I can take care of that,” he said. “My mom’s a pro at finding a good sale, and she taught me well. What vibe are we going for?”

Lily played with the end of her braid while she tried to come up with an answer. “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I thought something would speak to me, but clearly…” She gestured broadly. “It’s not happening.”

“I’m sure there’s something here.” When he gestured to the rest of the section, it made her look.

She saw the several rows of stacked bedding and staged bedrooms with those shortened beds stores always used. Lily was sure she already went through every aisle to check for something that would fit in her price range, but it was possible that she missed something.

She had to leave here with something, or the whole trip was a waste.

“Okay. Let’s do another round.”

Lily started another lap of the bedding section, this time with a partner. She steered clear of the tempting rack that already burned her once, since nothing on it was eligible for any kind of discounts. She also skipped over the shelves of throws, since using those for her comforter would definitely get a judgemental look from Petunia.

More than once, she had to resist the urge to fall onto one of the example beds and bury her head in the pillows. Maybe she should have stuck with the comforter Petunia picked. What was so wrong with her college bedding, anyway?

“What about this one?” he called from further down the aisle, pulling Lily out of her pessimistic thoughts. She tossed an uncomfortable looking throw pillow into a bin and looked to him and the possible option instead.

This one, which he unzipped the top of the package to reveal, was made of soft pastel squares patched together to look like a quilt. The colors went together well without being too loud. With a relieved sigh that was part laugh, Lily could picture it over the bed in her room.

“It’s perfect,” Lily said, starting toward him. “Does it qualify for the sale?��

“I think so,” he said, looking at it from several angles to find a tag. “I’ll find someone to ask.”

“Wait.” Lily stopped a few feet away from where he stood with her perfect, maybe ready to solve all of her problems quilt comforter. “You don’t work here?”

The grin was back. He shook his head, eyes holding a new amusement. “What made you think that I did?”

“Well, you -” Lily stopped and changed tack. “Then why are you helping me?”

He shrugged. “I said I’d take care of you. Did you think I wouldn’t follow through on that?”

Warmth spread across her cheeks and down to her toes without her permission. “I didn’t mean to pull you away from your shopping. I thought…”

“You didn’t pull me away from anything,” he said easily. He pushed the quilt back into the package and zipped it, turning to the register. “If this is it, you should get it.”

“I can take it. Really, I didn’t mean -”

“Don’t worry about it. I wanted to help,” he said, moving the quilt so it rested under one arm. He did it in time for her to miss her grab for the package. Instead, the attempt made her fingers brush over the sleeve of his sweater.

Lily withdrew her hands and let him carry the quilt toward the register counter. He put it down and stepped aside for her. The best course of action, she decided, was probably to avoid looking at him so he wouldn’t see the spots of color she was sure were on the tops of her cheeks. She offered the store credit to the cashier, vowing to buy this thing no matter how much it cost and be done with the whole affair.

The woman behind the counter scanned the tag and, Lily swore, smiled a little when the number came up on her screen. “This item is actually eligible for an additional discount. You have a little left on the store credit, if you wanted to find something else.”

“No,” Lily answered emphatically. “You can -”

A bright orange color caught her eye and made her reach to the display on the counter. She put the king sized Reese’s down and pushed it toward the woman on the other side.

“Actually, I’ll add this.”

The woman rang up her order and took a penny from the take one, leave one without prompting to cover the balance after redeeming her credit. She handed the bag over to a grateful Lily.

Turning, she was glad to see her helper still standing there. “This is for you,” Lily said, holding the bag in one hand and the Reese’s in the other, outstretched to him.

“You should keep it,” he answered, hands in his pockets. “My friend is always telling me that chocolate is good for stress, and that had to be a lot.”

“You should have it. I have to do something since you basically saved a stranger.”

“I’m James,” he answered, making her forehead crease in confusion. “James Potter. And you are…?”

“Lily Evans.” The answer was part reflex and part wanting to know where he was going with this.

“So, we aren’t strangers anymore. Keep the candy.”

Lily laughed and shook her head. “I have to do something for you, Potter.”

“I actually had something else in mind,” James admitted, hand once again in his hair. “Since that’s all handled, did you still want to go for that pretzel?”

Lily bit on her bottom lip to keep it from turning into a too big smile. “Sure. My treat.”

“No, Evans,” James said with a grin. “I’d like it to be a date.”

#marieka writes #hp #jily #james potter #lily evans #muggle au #meet cute

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isbus · 3 years

Text

The House Of Villains Chapter 1

Tags: (insert the prologue tags), slice of life, Walmart, card games, Kars doesn’t know things, not so subtle foreshadowing, references to later chapters, card games, board games,

Chapter 1: Game Night

They were all doing their thing- Diavolo and Doppio chatted together, Dio sat on the couch watching an animal documentary with Kars, Santana was still in the attic, Esidisi and Wamuu talked at the table, and Pucci dusted. They didn't do much else until Kira opened the door when coming home from work.

Dio turned off the TV, bringing Kars back to reality. Everyone turned to Kira when they heard the television shut off. "Kars, could you get Santana?" Dio asked politely. Kars immediately went up to the attic.

...

"Put me down!" Santana shouted. Kars went down the stairs, holding Santana on his shoulder. Kars put the younger of the four pillar men on the couch, then sat on his bean bag.

"Now that Kira is home, I have an idea to share." Dio began. Kira had an idea about what Dio was going to say. It was going to be something outrageous. "We are not normal, and if we continue our ways, our neighbors are going to see it. What we need to do is act normal, and what better way than a family tradition? We are going to try something called 'Family Game Night'."

Silence... Was it from awe? Or disgust? Or even-

"Okay. It's simple, all you have to do is play board games." Kira stepped towards the stairs before being stopped by Pucci's question.

"Do we even have board games? The closest thing we have to a game is tarot cards but we don't have a full deck." Enrico asked simply.

Kira didn't think about that. He wasn't the type to play games, he was the type to do work, so he sold his board games. "Well, we can always get some. It's not like we're too poor for it. Let's go to the store. Besides, I have things to pick up for me and my girlfriend."

"Ooh, I didn't know you had a girlfriend!" Dio exclaimed.

"Congratulations, you finally got one!" Doppio smiled from ear to ear.

"Don't tell me it's the cat." Wamuu closed his eyes disapprovingly.

Kira scoffed. "You all are so rude." Yoshikage began to put his work stuff back in his room then stopped. "She's human by the way."

- Time Skip brought to you By: Disrespecting Businessmen -

Getting dressed like normal people, which they obviously were not, and a few getting their parasols, led them out the door. Kira began to lead before Dio rushed to the front. "Let me." He smiled. As the leader of this group, Dio just HAD to lead. Dio started to walk in front of the Joestar house before he stopped.

"Why'd you stop?" Kira spoken quietly, partially glaring at the captain.

Dio smirked sweetly, as if he was in front of a lover of his. He appeared bold to the others, but to the cat lover, he looked like his title was "Super Stupid". "Where's the store?" The blonde vampire fluttered his eyelashes, holding the parasol between his jaw and shoulder while his hands held his knees as he crouched to be at eye level.

Kira sighed. "Just follow me." They continued, this time with Kira in the lead and Dio right behind. The villainous cast spoke to each other as they walked behind Kira. Dio started to strike up a conversation with Pucci, but Pucci immediately dismissed him.

They looked around at their neighborhood, several houses and people were around the area. The homes on one side of the street had a bunch of friendly people- like that kid in a baseball player outfit around house number 1506, or the teen with a mostly shaved head and pompadour with the older blonde boy that has the braid.

All that friendliness was enough to make some of the villains question this neighborhood. With those happy faces, it was hard to be in a bad mood. It's like the happiness was rubbing off on them while rubbing them the wrong way. Dio thought about it then shrugged. Kars was glancing around for squirrels that he saw on TV. Kira stayed serious, and continued leading. Doppio and Diavolo spoke back and forth with each other. Pucci strutted as if he wasn't a sucker for God.

It was taking five-ever. Everyone, excluding Kira, wished it was right around the corner. Past the "For Sale!" homes, and past the other blocks, it took at least three minutes. Well, it would've taken three minutes but Kars found a squirrel and a hawk started following Dio. The hawk presumably got the chain holding it broke and flew away, looking for a new owner since it had a collar and purple scarf. What a fancy bird.

But the bird may or may not be important. The hawk followed them all the way to the store, then waited by the door. The villain group stepped inside, Kars and the two older pillar men struggled a bit (especially Kars) Santana fit through perfectly though.

The part of the group that was foreign to this place (that is totally not Wal-Mart) looked around in awe. They put away their parasols and held them by their sides. "Hi welcome to Wal-Mart!" A lady at the front said with a smile.

As if the woman smashed a bottle and yelled "scatter!", they began walking around. Dio read the sign that said "woman's" and just HAD to see the panty section. Pucci joined him, hoping he wasn't doing what he thought he was doing. Diavolo and Doppio went to the technology section. Kars and Wamuu gone to the pet area. Esidisi and Santana went to the toy section. Leaving Kira alone. Yoshikage looked behind him and saw nobody.

"This is just great. Everyone left faster than me saying 'Bite the Dust'." Kira spoke to himself. "Come on darling. Let's find them." He looked in his jacket pocket to speak to his girlfriend.

- Time Skip Brought to you By: Bite Za Dusto

Since Kira was going to the game area and it was right next to the toy section, Kira grabbed a few games and put it in the cart that he grabbed off screen. He heard the angsty teen's voice. "I don't want dolls, I want- wait that one is actually kinda cute... Can I have him?" Santana nearly shouted at first but his voice died down after he found the most handsome doll.

Kira gone to the doll isle and saw the two- Esidisi was explaining how Kira would get it for him as Santana held a doll with blonde hair and blue eyes. The blonde cat lover coughed. "Come on you two, let's find the others." Santana slightly pouted like he REALLY wanted the doll. "Put it in the cart." The redhead thanked Yoshikage and put the doll in there.

The three gone past the technology section but paused when seeing the pink haired boys looking at phones. They seemed to be agreeing on something, when Kira got closer, the men saw a figure of a manga character in Doppio's hands.

"I could always get it for you. But I forgot my wallet." Diavolo explained before Doppio started looking glum.

"How much is it?" Yoshikage's serious voice cut through to their ears. Doppio's face lit up from the darkness of the other's words.

Doppio checked the price on the bottom and read it aloud. "Twenty dollars." Kira nodded to the cart, signaling him to put the figure in the cart. The pink haired boy done as he was "told", and set the manga character in the cart.

"Now, where are those last few?" Kira asked himself. Suddenly, he remembered Kars' love for animals. To the pet section!

The pink haired boys joined the party!

They all moved forward to the pet section. Moving in different walks, past the fabric and sewing area, to that isle with supplies for small animals, reptiles, and fish. To their avail, they saw the long purple hair and short blonde hair of Kars and Wamuu. The isle also had Jolyne and Jotaro, looking at fish.

Wamuu and Kars looked at the group, holding a play pen for small animals. "Put it in." Kira sighed. They done just that. "Now, where's the last two?"

"No! I refuse to wear female underwear!" The group heard none other than Pucci, shouting about panties. "I am clearly a man!"

"Why is a man shouting about underwear, dad?" Jolyne tried to contain her laughter.

Jotaro smirked. "Good grief."

Oh no. The villains thought and rushed to the feminine area. Once they got there, Esidisi covered Santana's eyes so that he couldn't see the- um- interesting area. But everyone else there could see, clear as day, Dio grinning while holding a thong and bra and Enrico blushing with wide eyes.

"It would look great on you..." Dio spoke in a sing-song voice.

"No it would not! Besides, that kind of underwear is so sinful!"

"Would you prefer cheeky?" Pucci's blush darkened at the words that spilled from the blonde's mouth.

Kira groaned. "Shut it. If he doesn't want it, leave it be. We have to buy this stuff, so let's go to check out."

"Alright~" Dio sang. Enrico moved towards the check out. "Let's get it anyway." He whispered.

"Fine but if I wake up to screams of terror, I'm throwing you out." Yoshikage threatened. Dio shrugged and followed Enrico after putting the underwear in the cart. Esidisi removed his hand from over Santana's eyes, and walked with the group.

- Time Skip brought to you By: I can see your panties... (SICK JOJO REFERENCE) -

As the cashier scanned items, Kira couldn't keep his eyes off of her hands. The lady tried handing the bags to him, but he was too focused on her lovely, dainty hands. "Sir?" She asked, snapping him back to the real world. "Your bags."

"Oh, thanks." He felt awkward but took the bags and paid up. "Have a nice day, Adrian." He took back his card then speed-walked to the door.

"Ugh, Kira wait up!" Dio nearly stood for to long until realizing Kira was nearly out the door. The cashier giggled and smiled.

Kars and the other pillar men followed. Enrico was close behind. "Thank you so much!" Doppio blushed.

"Here's our number." Diavolo held out a piece of paper with numbers written on it for the lady to take. Before she could take it, Doppio snatched it away, then ran away. "Doppio, don't try to leave me!" He shouted and ran to the exit.

The cashier sighed. "Cute, aren't they?" A Burger King worker spoke to the cashier.

"Yeah, Aimi. They sure are." She responded.

"Miss? Do you know where this address is? I'm not from around here."

- Time skip Brought to you by: An Unnamed Man asking a cashier for directions! -

Once they got home, they immediately looked at the games Yoshikage got. Monopoly, Uno, The Game Of Life, etc. But one definitely caught their eyes. A game called Villainous. But (to avoid copyright) they played Uno.

"Ok. We are not allowed to use our stands to cheat. That's the only rule I have." Kira set up the game by handing out seven cards to those who were playing. Santana played video games in the attic, Esidisi watched Santana play those games, Wamuu and Doppio cheered on their leaders, as the other five played Uno. "And to make sure we aren't cheating, they will be watching us play."

Dio already knew what he would do. "The World!" The World came out of the card and stopped time. "Will you help me? All you have to do is stop time when I give you a signal."

The World stared, then shook his head. "I refuse."

"What?! No! I have to win!" The World resumes time after Dio exclaims.

Kira put the collar on the pink housecat and Killer Queen appears. "Let's win this Kira!"

Diavolo rubbed the gem and King Crimson stands behind him. "We got this." Diavolo and King Crimson both say in unison.

Pucci puts the disc in the portable DVD player and crawling out of the screen was Whitesnake. Once he gets out, he sighs. "It sure was cramped in there..."

Everyone looked at the cards that were handed out and the game was decided. A green nine. Dio was first, and he played a green seven. "Easy as that." He said cockily.

"So, we have to match colors?" Kars asked.

"You can match colors, or numbers. If you don't have a cards that match the number or color, then you draw from the deck until you get something to play or until you reach four cards." Kira explained.

Kars nodded. "What does this card do?" He pulled out a plus four. Kira's eyes widened, knowing he was next.

Dio burst out laughing. "If you play that card then the next person gets four cards and you change the color." He tried to stop the laughter by talking but he nearly coughed when doing so. "So, what are you going to do?"

Kars hummed in thought, then he took a card. Before placing it down, or even where the others could see, he looked at Wamuu. "Of course, sir." Dio felt he knew what card he was going to place, so he smirked and crossed his arms. He would have the upper hand against the ever-so-lucky Yoshikage Kira.

Kars soon placed the card after Wamuu gave the signal of approval. Or what I, the Narrator, like to call "The F*ck Yes Do it!" signal. Only be- oh sh*t.

Dio, I'm sorry, but your prediction was incorrect.

A blue seven.

Dio looked at the card Kars placed, then at Kars, then back at the card, Kars, card- this could go on.

But before you continue...

Try saying "Kars Card" ten times fast.

Ready? Cool.

Dio saw what was going on. Kars was trying to get the turns reversed so he could play the plus four on Dio. But Kars didn't understand much about human culture, right? He only really understood animals. Dio thought to himself about how HE'S the ultimate being and how Kars shouldn't be called that.

When he smirked, Kira knew what was going through the vampire's mind. I don't need to repeat.

Kira's turn was a simple blue three. Killer Queen pouted. I know. I could've done worse. Kira thought to him and the Queen.

"Oh! That one!" The younger pink haired boy pointed at a card and the older of the two placed it. The game continued and rage ensued until a winner was decided. The winner was Kira. Who wouldn't have guessed that the ever-so-lucky Yoshikage Kira would win?

#comedy #slice of life #villain house #human stands #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #original story #story time #jojo fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

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ghostmaldo · 2 years

Text

💚A Chance Meeting💚

With Nanami Kento

Part 1

Just a little idea I have for Nanami 💚 I love that man so here ya go! My request box is always open!

Ambience music:

https://youtu.be/YMEzSMz2cCI

youtube

815am

Morning routines. Starting as they always do, right on time, every single day.Nanami Kento, Another soul rising before the sun to head off to another shift in an office building. He had just stepped out into the crisp chill morning. The sun barely poking out from the hills. Long shadows decorating the building surrounding him.

A tired sigh left his lips. Nanami was already mentally preparing a list of everything he needed to do when he clocked in today. Luckily he still has a few spare minutes to grab a cup of coffee and keep himself away from work for a few moments longer.He would need the extra help to get him through the day anyway. He had been meaning to try the new cafe. It had opened up recently and Nanami had heard surpringingly good things about it.

Soon he would know for himself if he would frequent the location. Though he kept his expectations low so he wouldn't be too disappointed.

After walking passed several blocks. He finally reached the small illuminated building sitting comfortably in the corner. His eyes rested on the warm colors and lights setting the charm up for customers to fall in love with. He had to admit. It was pleasant looking. Enough for him to take the time to step inside.

Inside, Nanamis skin basked in the warmth of the shop. The same warm lights tempting him further. A few guests were already inside enjoying themselves. But relatively, the scene was peacefully quiet.

Nanami made his way up the counter. Clearing his throat as he did so. He was greeted by a cheery young individual. Their smile was bright. Perfectly welcoming compared to the cold morning. Nanamis eyes flickered down to their name tag. Written in inky cursive.

‘(Y/n)’

How fitting. He thought.

"Welcome in sir. What can I prepare for you today?"

Laced with honey... Their voice was dripping in sweet sweet honey. He was impressed to say the least. Nanami admitted he wouldn’t mind hearing it a second time.

Nanami cleared his throat, shaking his head out of his thoughts. Mean while quickly scanning the menu for something simplistic. He would still need to carry the items to work. "A coffee with two creams and 1 sugar please and a cherry pastry as well."

They smiled again. "Of course sir, let me grab those for you!"

Nanami watched them turn on their heels. Walking over to the coffee machine to prepare what he had asked for. The glee from their eyes never faltering, even as their apron became just a hair messier from Nanamis coffee...

He somehow found it admirable. Nanami blinked once and they were back at the counter. Cup and bag in hand, pointed in his direction.

"Here you are sir! I haven't seen you before so I went ahead and put an extra treat in your bag. Enjoy, and come back soon."

He couldn't help but utter a, "Thank you, have a nice day." The cashier flashed him one last smile before walking back over to the register. Attending to the next customer in line. Nanamis hands reached for his items. Anticipation running down his veins. Before he turned around to depart, he snuck one last glance at the cashier again.

Their cheeks were tinted a bit rosy. Eyes wide and attention to the task at hand. Nanami took this moment to memorize the shape of their hands and face.

He had a feeling he would greatly enjoy visiting here again.

Their smile was so contagious, Nanami found his own creeping onto himself.

Today was going to be a good day.

Clocked in: 8:58am

Thank you for reading 😊 Feel free to request your own ideas in my box 💙🌷 Also if there's any errors feel free to notify me as well. Thank you 🌷

~ Maldo

#nanami kento #Nanami #nanami headcanons #nanami x y/n #nanami imagine #nanami fluff #jjk nanami #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #imagines #anime #maldo #maldowrites

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misteria247 · 3 years

Text

Forgotten

Chapter Four

April stood on the sidewalk, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for Casey to arrive at her apartment. From the moment she'd called him last night, the two had began to plan. Since they didn't know if what the driver saw was actually who they hoped it was, the duo had decided to keep the information to themselves. The last thing they wanted was to get the others hopes up only for it to be a bust. Which led to their current plan. Search the gas station and the surrounding areas. See if they find anything and go from there. Not really the brightest idea the two had come up with but it was better than nothing. April sighed and pulled out her cellphone to scroll through her social media while she waited.

The sounds of the early birds echoed throughout the usual busy streets as April scrolled, enjoying the somewhat peace and quiet that was rare for New York. Then again it was rather early for anyone other than workers or animals to be awake. April had insisted that she and Casey left early in the morning when she'd called him, wanting to use as much time as she could to search thoroughly for any sign of Leonardo. Surprisingly Casey agreed with her, the young man itching just as much as she was to get the search started.

'Hopefully we'll find something....'

April thought, trying not to let the feeling of doubt overwhelm her. She wanted to be somewhat positive with this and hold on to hope that she and Casey would find something. Even though it seemed unlikely. After four years of nothing but grief and mourning only for something like this to happen out of the blue. It was suspicious if she thought about it logically.

'It could be a trap, after all The Shredder is still out there running at large.'

Her mind supplied. The woman couldn't help but feel a hot shot of anger consume her as she thought about the Foot Clan's master. The Shredder, the most dangerous enemy she and the boys have ever faced. He was cunning and ruthless and downright monstrous when given the chance to be. He lived for the suffering of others, especially the Hamato family. The Shredder who had caused so much damage and suffering to many innocents in New York City. April was so caught up in her angry thoughts that she didn't notice the large van pulling up in front of her until the sound of a beeping horn startled her half to death. April jumped tripping backwards onto the sidewalk as she let out a startled shriek. Her startled state turned into annoyance as the sound of familiar laughter filled the air.

"Oh God! You....! You should've seen.....! Your face....!"

Casey said in between bouts of laughter. April felt her face break out into a bright red blush from embarrassment and anger as Casey wheezed in his van.

"Casey Jones!"

April seethed standing up with a glare. Eyes narrowed she nearly tore the passenger door open and hopped into the van, fuming while Casey tried to calm down.

"Sorry....Ape. Here a peace offering."

Casey said with another shutter of laughter as he handed her a hot cup of fresh coffee. April glared at it for a beat before taking it with a grumble while Casey smirked in amusement. Once April was buckled into her seat Casey took off towards the city limits, his dark eyes focused on the road. The duo was quiet as he drove through the streets, watching the sun start to rise over the tall skyscrapers. The silence didn't last too long as Casey finally decided to break it.

"Do you really think it could be him April?"

Casey asked his voice serious and quiet, no longer filled with his earlier amusement and laughter. April stiffened a bit before letting out a sigh.

"I....I don't know Casey. But I have to go and look. If I don't I'll never forgive myself."

April replied softly her voice wavering slightly. Casey gave his companion a slightly concerned look. He knew how much this effected her, how much it effected the Hamato family. He just like her had been grieving for the loss that they'd experienced. When he'd received the phone call last night he'd been shocked to say the least. The news that Leo could still be out there.....that he could still be alive had shaken him more than he'd care to admit.

"If he's out there Ape, we'll find him and bring him home."

Casey said giving her a determined side glance. April looked at him before a small dull smile came onto her face.

"Yeah....we will."

She said softly before turning to stare out the window. The two didn't talk anymore after that, both lost in their thoughts. They knew that this was a shot in the dark, that they'd most likely come home empty handed and devastated but they wouldn't give up on that small sliver of hope. Not now, not after four years of nothing. They had to hope or else they'd completely break.

~~~~~

The drive out of the city felt like an eternity before they'd finally made it to the gas station. Casey drove the van into the old gas station's parking lot, the tiny building looking old but still working. Finding a place off to the side to park Casey parked the van and turned it off. The duo exchanged a quick look before they unbuckled and got out of their vehicle. April blinked as the sun hit her face, the early morning rays painting the somewhat small woodland area and gas station in shades of pink and white. April had to take a breather as she started to process that this was happening. She and Casey were really doing this thing.

"So where should we search first?"

Casey asked opening up the back of his van and reaching for his duffel bag. April spotted the familiar baseball bat sticking out of the one side as Casey slung the bag over his shoulder.

"We'll go inside the station first and find a map of the surrounding areas so we can keep track of which places we've looked. Once we've got our map we'll start with the wooden area behind the station here. If whatever that driver saw was near the gas station then it probably couldn't have gone too far."

April stated adjusting her jacket a bit. Casey nodded and shut the van doors.

"Alrighty then. Lead the way red."

He said with a small smirk. April shot him an unamused look before walking towards the station to get a map. Inside the building was small, much like a small home owned store. The old sounds of an air conditioner could be heard as April and Casey made their way inside to search for the map section. Looking through the racks April skimmed through them before finally finding what she was looking for. Grabbing one she made her way to the checkout. Shortly after Casey joined her with a few snack foods, granola bars and several bottles of water. The cashier looked at them before scanning their items and asking for the payment. One payment later and the duo were again back outside and made their way into the woodland area near the station and began their search.

~~~~~

Nothing.

They'd found nothing.

Other than the normal things and trash that littered the woods from time to time, April and Casey had found nothing. No footprints, nothing out of place, no broken branches or any other signs of recent interference other than old garbage. It was soul crushing to say the least. Casey stood a few feet behind April as he watched her search in an almost desperate way. It broke his heart seeing the usually strong woman look so broken down.

"April....I think we should call it quits......"

Casey said in a somewhat hesitant manner. April stopped in her searching at his words, her posture going rigid.

"But....but Casey...."

April started to say, turning her head towards him. Casey couldn't help but flinch as he saw the broken expression on April's face. He'd known that the chances of finding anything involving Leo were slim and he knew that April knew that too.

"We knew that there was a slim chance of.....of finding him alive....."

Casey said softly his tone shaking slightly. April stared at him, looking so broken down at that moment. He couldn't help but think back four years ago, when she'd given him that same broken look when the news of Leonardo's demise was told to them.

'Maybe this was a mistake. Coming out here and chasing ghosts from the past. She's still not over it. None of us are and we probably never will be.'

He thought as he went to squat next to her. With a small movement he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into a hug. As soon as she was in his arms the damn broke for her as April began to silently cry into his shoulder.

"I.....I had hoped......damnit why....?!? Why!?!"

April choked out gripping his shirt. Casey just held her tighter.

"I know, I was hoping too April. Let's just.....let's just get home. We've done all we can."

He said soothingly. April nodded slowly before letting him go. Wiping her eyes she tried to pull herself together but it was hard. Logically she knew deep down that this was the outcome of searching for Leo but emotionally she'd dared to hope that maybe she and Casey would find him. Sniffling she let Casey help her up onto her feet and with a gentle but supportive hand he started to led her out of the area they were in. The walk back to the station was about thirty minutes to an hour depending on how long the person walking them took. The duo started their journey back, a somber silence stretching between them. The sky was growing dark and the crickets began to chirp around them, the evening surprisingly peaceful.

April should have known that it wouldn't last long.

It'd only been a good five minutes before everything went to hell in a way. She hadn't watched where she was walking too consumed by her grief when her foot went sideways causing April to stumble over. She let out a startled shriek as she fell, grabbing onto Casey and unintentionally dragging him down with her. The two went tumbling rolling on the uneven ground as they descended. In a pile of limbs they landed on the ground off of the trail, pained hisses and groans coming from them.

"You ow, alright April?"

Casey groaned out as he was elbowed in the ribs by accident.

"Shit I'm sorry Case, and I'm good just bruised....."

April mumbled out before trailing off staring straight ahead of her. Casey managed to get untangled from her and sat up rubbing his ribs before noticing that something was wrong.

"Ape? You okay? What's gotten you so...."

Casey stopped dead in his sentence as he looked in the direction that she was, his dark gaze going wide. There a good few feet or so away from them was a small shelter, just hidden from view with leaves and branches. It was new and hastily made but it was serving its purpose.

"You've got to be kidding me...."

Casey breathed stunned at what he was seeing. April didn't say a word instead stumbling back up to her feet and she scrambled towards the shelter to look at it better. Casey was right behind her, his own klutzy footsteps following. The two stared at it in a stunned silence, daring to hope once again.

Could it be.....?

April reached forward with a shaking hand and moved the leaves from the entrance way to look inside. Littered on the ground was a bag with all sorts of things in it from herbs to granola bar wrappers. All of it new and barely a day or two old. April snapped her gaze to Casey, her eyes shining so brightly it nearly blinded him.

"Casey....! I think we found him-!"

April didn't get to finish her sentence as something large came from above them and slammed them into the ground. April let out a pained yelp as she felt an arm swing out and slam into her gut. Casey's pained swear rang out as he was kicked to the ground. April forced herself to breathe as she watched Casey recover quicker than her and pull out his baseball bat swinging it as hard as he could. The thing that attacked them remained unseen, dodging out of the way. From there out a full fight broke out. Casey swung and fought the shadowy creature, while April got herself together again to try and help him.

'It's fast-!'

April thought startled as the creature kicked Casey in the chest making him stumble over. April didn't think as she grabbed a nearby branch and swung it hitting it in the back. She heard a pained hiss before it turned on her and launched itself at her. April fell the thing on top of her and pinning her down. She barely managed to make out the hint of metal in its hand as she squirmed to get free.

'Knife, its got a knife!'

She struggled to get out from under it as it raised its blade ready to run her through when Casey came up from behind and smashed the baseball bat against its back. A pained scream rang out as Casey grabbed April and yanked her up before shoving her behind him ready to attack again when they both froze. Now bathed in the fading light of the evening sun they finally saw who their attacker was. Dark green skin, a hard shell and two terrified and pained blue hues stared at them. April's heart stopped.

"L-Leo....?"

She whimpered out making the turtle stiffen. Confusion filtered his gaze before he snapped out of it and went for them again, his eyes wide and desperate. Casey didn't hesitate as he swung the bat again this time knocking him down for good with a hit to the head. Leo fell to the ground in a pained yelp before going out cold. The only sounds were of April and Casey's heavy breathing as they stared at their friend, shocked and confused. It was only a second later before the two of them broke. Casey dropped his baseball bat and began to apologize over and over again as he fell to his knees to look the unconscious teen over. April's legs gave out as the adrenaline wore off and the shock and disbelief and pain overwhelmed her. The red head didn't even stop herself from bursting into tears as she shakily grabbed Leo's head to look at him, the look he'd given her burned into her mind forever.

The fear, the pain, the lack of recognition as he attacked them in what she now understood was self defense. All of it came crashing down and broke her in a way. She was conflicted, emotions fighting within her. Relief, shock, disbelief, hurt, guilt. All of it swallowed her and she could see that Casey was feeling the same way.

They'd found Leonardo.

But at what cost?

~~~~~

All was quiet in the lair save for the lone rat that sat in the dojo alone, a small shrine in front of him. His sons had retired for the night leaving him alone with his thoughts and grief. Splinter stared at the shrine with a broken look, a picture of his eldest son and his broken katanas hanging on the wall. The old rat fought the wave of pain that threatened to consume him, silent tears running down his fur.

Four years.

It's been four years since the death of his eldest son.

Four years since he and his family struggled to overcome their grief and loss. Many would think that after four years would ease the pain for the ninja master but it didn't. It still tore him apart, it still ate away at him slowly. Losing one of his children was one of the worst things the rat could have ever experienced in all his long life. Splinter loved his sons more than anything in this world, he treasured each and every one of them. He raised them and cared for them. He taught them to defend themselves and the innocents of the city. He taught them the importance of family and everything else he'd learned in his lifetime. Yet nothing could have prepared them for this. Splinter gripped his robes, fighting off the grief as he remembered that day. How his youngest children Donatello and Michelangelo had made it back to the lair.

How they'd waited for the two others, Leonardo and Raphael to return home. How his second eldest son came home, bloody and bruised and cradling something in his arms in a protective way. He remembered how his boy, his strong son fell to his knees and sobbed as he laid the two broken swords on the ground and the sentence that had broken their entire family.

'Leo's gone. The Shredder....he....he killed him.'

At that moment something broke in Splinter and his sons. Like a string that held their family of five together had been snipped and with it his eldest son. For four years he and his sons grieved and mourned for their loss. For four years they felt nothing but rage towards The Shredder who had already taken so much from them. Splinter had noticed that over the years his sons had began to harbor hatred towards their enemy, especially Raphael. Not that he could blame them for he too deep down held some himself. Before Splinter could dig deeper into the memories the sound of a phone ringing sounded out through the lair. The old rat got up from his position, saying a small prayer to the shrine before going to answer the phone. Stepping out of the dojo and into the kitchen he grabbed the house line phone and answered it.

"Hello?"

He spoke his voice raspy and somewhat thick sounding. He cursed himself for it.

"Master Splinter? It's April."

April's voice spoke through the phone.

"Ah Mrs. O'Neil. I wasn't expecting a call from you this evening. Is there something that you need?"

Splinter asked somewhat nervous for some reason. April was quiet for a moment before she took a deep breath. Splinter felt himself stiffen up at that, his whiskers twitching in his unease. When she answered the world spiraled into chaos.

"Master Splinter. We found him, Leonardo's alive."

*Whoop we're on a roll tonight aren't we???? I honestly wasn't expecting this to become a series but I'm a self indulgent bastard so I'm sticking to the train lol. Anyways I've decided that the turtles are probably gonna be the 2012 ones with a little bit of the 2003 ones (sorry 2018 boys maybe next time). Maybe a little bit of the 1990 ones mixed in who knows. Also it seems we're finally getting somewhere with our main boys! Anyways if any y'all read this I hope you enjoyed it!!!!*

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years

Text

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 3: Signed In Blood]

Series summary: You are an overwhelmed and disenchanted nurse in Boston, Massachusetts. Queen is an eccentric British rock band you’ve never heard of. But once your fates intertwine in the summer of 1974, none of your lives will ever be the same...

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, physical frailty, sneaky foreshadowing.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @killer-queen-xo @maggieroseevans @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @joemazzmatazz @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @namelesslosers @inthegardensofourminds @deacyblues @youngpastafanmug @sleepretreat

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

The cashier blinks at you as he scans the items in your basket: two Cokes, an orange juice, a Mountain Dew, a grape Fanta, a box of Ritz crackers, a KitKat, three packs of cherry Pop Rocks, and assorted bags of Lay’s chips. “You must have, like, a lot of kids.”

“Something like that.”

Terminal E of Logan International Airport is bustling with swiftly-moving businessmen dragging rolling suitcases, tidy-looking flight attendants, careening toddlers and frazzled mothers. The band is waiting at the gate; their plane to Heathrow is scheduled to board in thirty minutes. Our plane, you correct yourself. I’m going too.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I ran out of paper bags but I can check in the back if you want—”

“Oh no,” you protest, slapping a ten-dollar bill onto the counter and gathering up the snacks. You’ve cultivated a stubborn solidarity with your fellow service industry employees. “That’s cool, I’ve got it. Thanks. Have a great day!”

“You too! Good luck with your kids!”

You laugh as you trot away. Yes, my very large, extremely anarchic British children. You could have sent Freddie and Rog for the snacks, but you don’t trust them not to try to steal something and end up getting strip-searched by TSA; Brian is still too weak to go anywhere alone; and John...well, John dissolves into blood-red cheeks and averted eyes if you ask him anything. You weave through the crowded terminal, shifting your arms to keep the snacks centered.

“Wow, you have your hands full there!”

You peer around the heap to see a businessman in a powder blue suit, neatly combed black hair, mid-thirties, benign smile. Your arms are beginning to ache. “Ha, yeah. I guess I do.”

“Need some help?” he asks, still smiling.

“Oh, thank you so much, but I’ve got it—”

“Nonsense.” He cheerfully plucks the chips and Pop Rocks out of your grasp. “Where are we going?”

Oh no. You know this type of man. He’s the guy who flirts with the nurses while his wife is recovering from a gallbladder removal, who tries to impress you with his mid-level accounting job and Marshall Field's neckties, who obliviously—or worse, forcefully—offers assistance when it’s least desired. He’s the type to play superhero so he can get a taste of what it feels like to be someone who matters. He’s not usually dangerous, but he is viperous if his fantasy gets interrupted, bitter and desperate and striking out like a wounded animal. Jesus christ, I do not have time for this bullshit today. The muscles in your forearms are screaming now. “Seriously, I can handle it. Thank you. Can I get my snacks back? My friends are waiting.”

His smile falters; suddenly, Mr. Aspiring Superman doesn’t seem so benign at all. And you can’t help but notice that his grip around your criminally overpriced airport snacks doesn’t loosen. Oh fucking hell. “What the hell’s wrong with you? Are you stupid or something? Don’t you get it, I’m trying to help—”

“Hey, baby!” chimes a voice from nowhere. An arm appears around your shoulders, pulling you in; John lands a series of kisses across your neck and jawline as the businessman gawks, speechless and horrified. “Did you finish shopping? Oh, you remembered my Coke! Thanks, baby. You’re the best. Come on, they’re gonna start boarding soon...” He stops, stares at the businessman, points with narrowed steely grey eyes: “Are those my Pop Rocks?”

“Uh, uh, yeah, uh...” The man hastily shoves the snacks into John’s hands and flees. John immediately backs away from you, clears his throat, casts his eyes down the opposite end of the airport terminal.

“Oh my god,” you say, stunned. “I’ve never heard you talk that much at once. Ever.”

He flushes and combs his agile fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I’m so sorry, I just thought...I saw that he was...I figured that would get him to piss off without causing a scene...I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that, I—”

“No, John, seriously, that was brilliant. Thank you.”

“Yeah?” And you think you can detect something in his voice like hope: cautious, fragile hope. More than that, you can still feel his lips against your skin, hot and sure and assertive, almost dominating.

You grin over at him as you walk together towards the gate. “I bet everyone thinks you’re real innocent because you’re the shy, quiet, mysterious one or whatever. But you have some serious game under all of that, don’t you?”

John chuckles out of pure shock, still not looking at you. “I doubt it.”

“I’m onto you, bassist. Those groupies aren’t going to know what hit them.”

Wait, he has a girlfriend, isn’t that what Freddie said? But if he does, John doesn’t correct you.

“Do I see my beloved Pop Rocks?!” Roger squeals when he spies you both. John tosses all three packets to him. Roger rips one open, pours the entirety of the contents into his mouth, then motions for you to pass him the can of grape Fanta. He gulps the Fanta and drums his palms against his thighs as his mouth erupts into sugary explosions.

“Majestic,” you comment.

“Wha...?! I will not be outdone!” Freddie seizes all the remaining Pop Rocks—both packs—and empties them into his mouth, then douses them with Coke. Dark fizzing soda and ruby crystals spew out of his nose. Roger throws back his head and cackles like a hyena as John launches balled-up napkins at Freddie. You ignore them and check on Brian, who is lounged sideways across five seats.

“How you doing, Bri?”

He groans in reply. You give him the orange juice and Ritz crackers.

“Eat, please, Bri.”

“I can’t. I’m dying.”

“You aren’t bloody dying!” Freddie sighs, exasperated, still mopping Coke off his face.

You lay the back of your hand against Brian’s forehead and frown. “You’re burning up, Mr. May.”

“I’ve got aspirin somewhere...” Roger says as he rummages through his luggage.

“He can’t have it. His liver’s still recovering, no over-the-counter meds.” You take two still-cold cans—your Mountain Dew and Bri’s orange juice—and press them to Brian’s cheeks. John, without speaking, lays his Coke against the back of Brian’s neck. “Think you can make it through a six-hour flight?”

Brian’s glassy eyes roam to you. “No offense, but I would literally rather be disemboweled by rabid opossums than spend another night in Boston.”

“Opossums very rarely contract rabies. But your point is noted. We’ll get you home.”

“Thank you,” Brian breathes, drained. “And thank you, John.”

“Not a problem.”

Freddie squats in front of Bri in skin-tight jeans littered with patches, brushes the mess of curls off Brian’s forehead, and pushes a Ritz cracker into his mouth. Brian grimaces but chews it reluctantly. Freddie grins. “You must be truly desperate to trust your wellbeing to Deaky.”

“He’s unexpectedly ferocious,” you warn Brian. “He ran off some creep at the snack stand. Kid could definitely murder you if he tried.”

“Yeah? Well done, Deaks!” Roger gives John a high-five, then aggressively ruffles his hair and growls. “Who’s my favorite little killer bassist?! Grrr. Grrrrrrrrr. Come on. Show me them pearly whites, Mack the Knife.”

John chomps at Roger’s hands in his very best impression of a shark. Roger laughs and yanks teasingly at John’s hair, his face lit up like the Boston Harbor on the Fourth of July.

The next time you look for Freddie, he’s disappeared. You finally spot him several seats away, bent over a notebook and scribbling furiously, snapping his fingers over and over again and murmuring to himself: “Killer bassist...killer woman...killer bitch...killer queen.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When boarding begins, Freddie and Roger practically carry Brian onto the plane. They drop him into a window seat and Brian promptly drapes a sweater over his head and falls asleep. You sit beside him and flip through a fashion magazine you found in the pocket on the back of the chair in front of you, but Roger keeps interrupting by ranking the pictured outfits on a scale of one to eleven.

“Why eleven?”

“Because I gave that neon yellow coat three pages ago a ten, but now I like these rainbow pants even more. So they have to be an eleven.”

“Okay Roger.”

Freddie and John sit in the row in front of you and alternate between scrawling in their notebooks—song lyrics for Freddie, sketches of some kind of amplifier for John—and tossing peanuts into each other’s mouths. John doesn’t speak to you, but he keeps glimpsing back between the seats like he’s considering it. When Roger gets up two hours in to take a smoke break and chase down extra peanut packets for Freddie, John finally turns around and peeks over his seat.

“Why don’t opossums get rabies?” he asks.

“That’s what’s on your mind?” you tease, sipping Mountain Dew.

“Maybe.”

“Okay. Buckle up. It’s technically possible for opossums to get rabies. But they have naturally super low body temperatures, like 94 or 95 degrees Fahrenheit. So the virus usually can’t survive in their system. Thus, squeaky clean opossums.”

“Well. Minus the ticks and fleas and dirt and rubbish and all that.”

“Most of the cute things in life are at least slightly grubby.”

“Like Roger Taylor.”

You laugh. “That man has definitely been submerged in garbage at some point.”

“You have no idea. But you have to learn to be a Londoner now. We wouldn’t say grubby, we’d say dodgy.”

“Dodgy. Got it.”

“Show me. Use it in a sentence.”

“Roger is super dodgy, while Brian is much less so. Jury’s still out on John.”

“Well done.” He applauds.

Now you reach out to touch his hair, like Roger did earlier; it’s impossibly soft and downy, comforting, almost homey. John smiles patiently. “You have fantastic bone structure, you know,” you tell him. “You should cut this off one day so people can see it.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. But in the meantime...” You gently thread your fingertips through his locks, twirl a strand, observe that those blue-grey eyes that seemed steely back at the airport are now as soft and innocuous as morning fog. Roger reappears with his loot of peanut packets and gasps, pretending to be scandalized.

“What’s going on here?! Jesus, Deaks, I leave you alone for three minutes and you’ve got her all enamored with your soft cuddly exterior and latent homicidal tendencies.”

“It’s a winning combination.” John catches the peanuts that Roger hurls his way and turns to split them with Freddie.

You gaze up at Roger and beam. “Hey, dodgy Rogey.”

“Oh, you think that’s charming?” He slinks into his seat and drapes an arm across your shoulders. “You realize you’re one of us now, right? That makes you dodgy too.”

“As long as I don’t have to participate in any scandalous naked photoshoots.”

“Oh my god, that was one time! Freddie, Fred, hey, Freddie, why would you show her those...?!”

Hours later, when the plane hits the runway at Heathrow, Brian jolts awake and clutches for you like a staircase railing. He’s cooler to the touch now, appears less feverish, insists he feels better; nevertheless, Freddie and Roger escort him all through the airport like intense and sunglasses-armored Secret Service agents flanking Nixon, steadying him on escalators and dragging his luggage. As the five of you descend into the arrivals area, Freddie points to a group of young women and shrieks in delight, waves, blows flirtatious kisses all the way down the steps.

“Freddie!” the blonde one calls, leaping in her heels and grinning enormously. She’s holding a large, glittery sign that reads: Welcome home, Queen! Freddie races to meet her, sweeps her off her feet, dips her halfway to the floor and kisses her deeply, theatrically. The blonde woman in his arms giggles and buries her fingers in his mane of shining black hair.

“Darling?” Freddie says, spinning to find you, flourishing his artful hands. “This is Mary Austin, the love of my life. Mary, this is our new best friend, Florence Nightingale.”

“Well,” you confess. “That’s not my actual name, obviously. It’s—”

“I quite like Florence Nightingale,” John says. “I’ve always fancied the name Florence. That’s where Dante was from. He was exiled during some political conflict and ended up bouncing around all over Italy. He eventually landed in Ravenna and finished The Divine Comedy there. By the time he died, he hadn’t seen Florence in twenty years. But Florence was always home.” He smiles at you in an off-kilter, crafty sort of way that tells you you’ve at last been admitted into the diminutive, highly selective circle of people that John calls friends; and you feel like you’ve won the lottery for the second time in forty-eight hours.

“Hmm,” Freddie replies, puzzled. Mary nods uncertainly. Then John turns to greet a petite auburn-haired girl in a simple turquoise sundress and with long, bone-white legs.

Brian pulls you away to introduce you to his girlfriend, the one he was always trying to call on the hospital phone. He rests his hands on your shoulders as he presents you. “Chrissie, I love this woman.”

Chrissie glowers and crosses her arms. “Oh.”

“Wait, no, sorry, I mean she saved my life. She was my nightshift nurse in Boston. I was completely lost before she found me, tremendously depressed. You know how I get. She’s come to London to look after me. Then we’re going to convince the record company to hire her as our travel nurse.”

“Oh!” Now Chrissie softens. She has wavy brunette hair, plump cheeks, marvelous wide-set blue eyes, a completely uncomplicated presence. She embraces you kindly, gratefully. “Thank you so much, love.”

“No, please, it was my pleasure! Bri is a perfect gentleman. And a genius. But you already know that.”

“Chris, I was hoping she could borrow our couch for a few days until she finds her own place...”

“Of course!” Chrissie replies, fussing with your hair, studying you, her mind roiling. “What’s ours is yours. But it’s not much, I’ll warn you.”

“I’ll pay rent. And cook and clean. I’ll be a certified house wench.”

Chrissie laughs, then screams as Brian staggers and collapses to the floor. “Bri—?!”

“He’s alright,” you announce calmly as everyone crowds around. You claw through your luggage, pull out an instant cold pack, crack it and press it to Brian’s forehead. He stirs and mumbles something about New Orleans. “Rog, can you flag down a taxi? We gotta get him home.”

“Sure, you got it.” Roger darts off. And as Chrissie, Freddie, Mary, John, and John’s girlfriend—whom you gather from their conversation is named Veronica—scuttle to reassure Brian and fetch him water, you lock stares with Josephine. Roger’s girlfriend—super casual, not exclusive, that’s what he told me—is beautiful and slim and tan and dark-eyed and, worse than all of that, palpably clever. She considers you silently, and what crosses through her pristine, heart-shaped face is not mere suspicion but knowing; and perhaps there is acceptance there as well.

No, not acceptance, you realize. Resignation. Disappointment. Powerlessness.

You tear your eyes away from Josephine and turn back to Brian: tilting a bottle of water against his lips, pulling him to his feet, fanning him with airplane tickets, leading him to a bench to wait for the taxi. The others help, oblivious to the shadow that has marauded through the room like an eclipse.

I won’t end up like her, you think to yourself with savage determination. I won’t let myself love him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Brian sinks into a plush orange lounge chair as you and Chrissie cart the luggage inside. You get a tour of their tiny apartment, shove your few remaining belongings beneath the couch where you now live, and drop into the plaid cushions, covering your face with your hands.

“Oh my god. I can’t believe I did this. I quit my job. I left Boston. I’m living on some random couple’s couch in London. Oh my god.”

“Hey,” Chrissie says warmly, lifting your chin. “We aren’t so random. We’re your friends. Maybe we’re even your destiny.”

“Jesus, you’re something out of a fairytale.”

“You’re the one who’s going to be cleaning my house, Cinderella.” Chrissie tosses a bag over her shoulder and heads for the door. “I have to swing by work and see if my students killed the substitute teacher today, will you two be alright here?”

“Of course,” you say. Brian gives her a groggy thumbs-up.

“Okay. Bye for now. Love you lots, Bri.”

“Love you,” Brian replies weakly. Chrissie departs into a bright London summer. Brian looks over at you sorrowfully, guiltily. “I miss New Orleans.”

“What do you miss about New Orleans, Bri?” You know Queen stopped there before they came to Boston, before they came into your life.

“Can I confess something to you?”

“Sure.”

He stares at the wall, vacant, acutely distressed. “I think I’m in love with a stripper called Peaches.”

“Oooookay.” You snatch up your purse and dash for the apartment door.

“Wait, no, really, I—”

“Don’t tell me about it. Call Roger or someone. Or, better yet, write a song about it and make some money so we can all have mansions with swimming pools one day. Do you need anything from that grocery store on the corner?”

Brian sighs mournfully. “I suppose not.”

“Alright. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Then you’re getting homemade chicken noodle soup. Everything will be better now, Brian. I promise. Everything will go back to the way it should be. Now that you’re home. Now that you’re here.”

Brian echoes quietly to himself as you open the door and sunlight floods in: “Now I’m here.”

#queen fanfic #queen #queen fic #roger taylor #roger taylor fic #john deacon fic #john deacon #borhap #but you can never leave #but you can never leave series #but you can never leave fic

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glassworkspiderlilies · 4 years

Text

got me good vibes thank god i ain’t driving

Fire Emblem Three Houses | Dimitri/f!Byleth | AO3 Summary: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd goes grocery shopping at 3:30AM and meets an enigmatic girl in the dairy aisle. It goes from there. (Or, something-of-a-college-cryptid Byleth comes and goes as she pleases and befriends the Blaiddyd heir. Or he befriends her. In any case, it's an interesting semester.) Notes: Stress relief fic of no real discernible plot; best described with “head empty, just typing”. I’m serious, please do not think too hard while reading, I got nothing LOL. On the other hand, I had a lot of fun. Approximately (and absurdly) 10k words; more notes on AO3.

“Hey, Dimitri. One of those nights, huh?”

“Yes. Want a Mad Bull?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

It’s 3:30AM, and Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd is grocery shopping. The cashier on graveyard shift is well-acquainted with him now, at least on a surface level, as one becomes when you’re (usually) the only two people in the store at an ungodly hour. Dimitri buys him energy drinks sometimes. The cashier slips him extra coupons if he’s got them.

A combination of insomnia and nightmares keeps Dimitri up a lot, and while he can mostly regulate the insomnia, some nights are just particularly bad. Alternatively, if he is asleep but wakes up at any point, it’s too difficult for him to fall asleep again, so he may as well get up.

It’s not the worst, since he’s used to it by now, and at university. There are things enough that he can do during these witching hours, grocery shopping at the 24-hour supermarket being one of them.

On the rare occasion there are other people in and out of the place, but Dimitri only sees them from a distance as they go about their own shopping. At this time, everyone’s minding their own business for one reason or another.

That’s why it’s a surprise when he turns into the dairy aisle to see a young woman standing in front of the cheeses. She’s wearing a soft gray hoodie with pink striping on the cuffs and hem, her hands in her pockets and the hood covering her hair, dark jeans, and knee-high boots. Despite the more casual style, it strikes Dimitri as somehow a little dressy, though Sylvain would snort and say he’d be one to talk. (Dimitri can’t help it. It’s how he was raised; he feels most comfortable in button-downs and crisp jackets. His most casual is a neat sweatshirt, jeans, and sneakers, like now. And anyway, Sylvain seemed to have fun enough choosing things to add to Dimitri’s wardrobe. At this point, all of Dimitri’s friends borrowed his clothes if they fit—even Felix, who always did so without asking, and sometimes Dimitri never even knew.)

The girl doesn’t even turn despite the sound of Dimitri’s cart, and he thinks that he’ll wait politely for her to finish her selection before making his, pretending to look at the nearest shelf. But she stands there for a few minutes too long without moving, and so after some deliberation and hesitation, Dimitri decides to approach. It’s his last aisle, and he more or less knows what he wants, so he’ll be quick and out of here.

She doesn’t move even as he comes to stand next to her, and he murmurs “excuse me” as he looms a little over her to reach for a block of Gautier cheese. An unfortunate yet unavoidable action based on positioning, because she is spectacularly dead center of the things he wants, and she still doesn’t move despite the proximity.

Dimitri glances at her, wondering if she’s okay. Her expression is totally blank; she’s either zoning out or focusing extremely hard.

Well. It’s pretty late—or early—after all.

He reaches for a second block and puts the two into his cart, stepping away from the girl to turn his attention to the yogurts that he gets for Sylvain on the next section over. He takes two of the mixed berry ones first before debating over the others.

“Plain or spicy?”

It takes him a minute to register the voice and the words, soft and pleasantly mid-tone.

Dimitri turns to find the girl looking at him, and he thinks oh, she’s really pretty, now that he’s seen her in full view, before actually connecting the dots that she’s the one who had spoken.

“Um, spicy?” he offers, and the girl seems to think for a moment before she nods decisively.

He watches as she reaches for two blocks of artisan cheese, flecks of herbs and spices visible through the packaging—not one he’s tried before, or honestly remembered seeing here—and turns to plop them squarely in his hands, balancing them perfectly on top of the yogurt containers.

She then walks away, putting her hands back in her pockets.

“Uh?” Dimitri says belatedly, looking between the girl’s retreating figure and the cheese.

Am I supposed to buy these for her? He wonders, as he puts everything in his hands in his cart. He grabs a six-pack variety of yogurt before rushing after her, but she’s gone by the time he makes it to the registers.

“All set?” the cashier yawns, and Dimitri blinks at him.

“Wasn’t there a girl just now? In a gray hoodie?” Dimitri asks, laying down his purchases.

“Hm? Oh yeah, she walked out without buying anything,” the cashier says, starting to scan the items, “People just come in here to kill time sometimes.”

“Oh,” Dimitri says, looking towards the doors.

He completes his transaction, leaving the Mad Bull for the cashier, who waves his hand gratefully, and makes his way back to his car. The girl is still nowhere in sight; Dimitri realizes he wishes that she were.

He loads his groceries into his trunk and drives back to the dorms.

By the time he finishes finding space in the fridge for everything, it’s a little past 4AM. In about an hour and a half, Ingrid will be up for her morning run, and she always welcomes company. Dimitri shoots her a text for when she wakes up; he’ll pick up coffee and pastries for them too.

For now, he might as well work on his upcoming paper a little more.

“So, what’s with the special cheese in the fridge?” Sylvain asks later that day, when their childhood quartet all meet up for lunch.

“Oh,” Dimitri says, remembering. “That. Um…there was a girl in the supermarket who just kind of…had me buy them?”

Sylvain, Felix, and Ingrid blink at him.

“What do you mean, ‘had you buy them’?” Felix says.

Dimitri recounts the whole experience.

“And you bought them,” Felix says, with his brows furrowed, his eyes and tone clearly conveying what the hell, that was so stupid.

Dimitri just shrugs.

“We should eat it later,” Ingrid says, biting into her burger, and Sylvain laughs.

“Yeah, leave it to Ingrid,” he says. “But we should. To commemorate Dimitri’s weird 3AM experience.”

Sylvain makes a big deal of it when they do eat the cheese later, when their classes have ended for the day and they’re back in their suite. He puts the crackers on a plate and tries to cut the cheese into fancy shapes, which only Dimitri actually appreciates.

“Oooh, spicy,” Ingrid says, as she pops a cube into her mouth. “Hey, this is really good!”

Felix says nothing, but reaches for more. Sylvain laments about the lack of appreciation for his artistic attempts, but also agrees that the cheese is great when he finally eats a piece himself.

Dimitri, as always, cannot really taste the flavor, but he likes both the scent and the texture, at least.

“So Dimitri finally meets a girl, we get a brand new cheese, what else is next?” Sylvain says, leaning back on the sofa.

“It wasn’t like that,” Dimitri protests, then pauses. “But she was very pretty,” he admits quietly, and Sylvain grins. “Like a goddess,” he adds, even quieter.

Sylvain smacks his own face in secondhand embarrassment.

“There, you see? It’s Dimitri’s romantic awakening.”

“Hardly matters unless he gets to see her again,” Felix says lazily, and Sylvain is the one that makes a wounded noise.

Dimitri, on the other hand, merely looks thoughtful. He hadn’t actively thought about wanting to see her again until Felix brought it up. But he thinks he might like to, if the chance presented itself.

“It’s the awakening,” Sylvain whisper-hisses, and no one seems to care.

“Stranger things have happened,” Ingrid says, in response to Felix’s statement and not Sylvain’s, “In any case, you should get this again.”

She tries to eat the rest. Felix fights her for it.

(When Dimitri goes shopping again two weeks later, he can’t find the cheese anywhere. Ingrid looks let down, Sylvain looks surprised, and Felix looks offended.

“What the fuck? Go find your 3AM cheese goddess again and ask her,” Felix says, and Sylvain laughs a little too hard.)

Dimitri’s not sure why he allows himself to be dragged to parties, but he keeps letting it happen. Ingrid had brought them news that Dorothea was throwing her beginning-of-semester bash, which was always a Big Deal, and several of their mutual friends were going. Ingrid couldn’t not attend, because she was good friends with Dorothea. Sylvain was absolutely going, because he would never miss a party. Felix had not wanted to go, but Sylvain had somehow convinced him, and if Felix was going to suffer, then Dimitri better damn well suffer too, and so he relented from the combined pressure of Felix’s glare and Sylvain’s coaxing.

He supposed he could use the change of pace every now and then. And he could always slip away; people were usually too drunk to notice after a couple hours.

Sylvain borrows a shirt from Dimitri’s closet and wears it with three buttons undone. Felix steals a black jacket from Dimitri’s closet and wears it halfway down his arms. Ingrid does not take anything from his closet this time, but does borrow one of his hair ties.

Everyone tells Dimitri to change when he comes out of his room; Sylvain, as usual, takes control to make Dimitri more “party ready”, which consists of a long blue coat and off-white shirt—with several buttons undone, of course. (Dimitri buttons at least two up again later.)

The party is loud and raucous as it’s meant to be, but he’s amongst mostly friends, and so he’s actually not that anxious. There’s a few people he doesn’t know, but he is otherwise at least mostly familiar with everyone else. Annette bounces up and down when she sees them walk in, tapping Mercedes on the shoulder, who was conversing with Ashe. Dedue appears a moment later, and Dimitri’s main friend group is all here.

“Yay! I’m glad you made it too, Dimitri,” Annette says cheerfully. “Gosh—frowning already, Felix? Here, have a drink.”

Annette proffers her own cup.

“You already drank out of this,” Felix scowls, but he takes it anyway, and grimaces when he takes a sip. “What is this, fruit juice?”

“Felix is too good for Noa liquer,” Annette declares, turning her nose up, “Fine, go get yourself a beer or whatever!”

Felix teases her by holding her cup too high to reach, and she screeches at him until he finally puts it back in her hands. Mercedes chuckles as she watches them, and Sylvain takes the opportunity to compliment her dress with a roguish wink. She returns the compliment easily enough, with genuine warmth, which always throws Sylvain off.

“Dedue! I was surprised to hear you were coming,” Dimitri smiles, and Dedue smiles back.

“Dorothea asked if Ashe and I could make a few things,” he said. “Since I am here, I may as well make sure nobody gets in too much trouble.”

Dimitri chuckles.

“Oooh, Dedue, Ashe, you made food?” Ingrid chimes in, looking excited. While some things had obviously been bought, Dorothea was pretty picky about the specifics of her parties when she threw one. “I’m excited!”

“We did a really good job, if I say so myself,” Ashe smiles. “The meat skewers came out really well, so you and Felix should grab some while you get a chance.”

“Oh, you bet I will,” Ingrid says, already wandering away. “Hear that Felix? I’m not saving you any!”

Felix yells back, and in a second they all start wading deeper into the place, and everyone starts to branch off on their own. Dedue still mostly sticks with Dimitri, though, and the two of them stick to the peripheries.

Dorothea’s parties really span the entire apartment building; her neighbors across the way and downstairs are either friends or people she’s friendly with, so the doors to their apartments are also open for more space. If Dimitri thinks about it, it’s really nice, the way everything comes together.

As the night wears on and he’s consumed a couple drinks that Mercedes had kindly procured for him (with a reminder to drink slow), he begins feeling—looser, braver, almost a little giddy. Dedue is in conversation with Ashe, and Dimitri slips away to the kitchen for a moment, because there had been an extra dish of saghert and cream that he now wants in a very visceral way.

The kitchen is surprisingly empty—except for one person, who has climbed up on the counter, and is perched on her knees as she rifles through the topmost cabinet. The slit up the side of her skirt shows a generous bit of leg with the way she’s positioned, and Dimitri stares before he tells himself not to. The girl takes out two bags of—some kind of snack, and when she turns her head, Dimitri sees that she is holding another bag with her teeth, and also that he recognizes her.

“From the dairy aisle,” he blurts, and she blinks at him before trying to climb off the counter.

She teeters a little and Dimitri automatically moves to help her, in which he actually just lifts her off the counter by the armpits like a wayward cat.

“Oh—sorry,” he says, realizing that the action was way too familiar for someone who barely qualified as an acquaintance.

But she doesn’t look at all offended, and merely sets all three bags of chips down before she speaks.

“Thanks,” she says, then stares at him. “From the dairy aisle,” she states, in a manner that is confirming that yes, that is where they met.

A pause. She is so, so pretty, Dimitri thinks. There is sparkly gold eyeshadow brightening her already-bright green eyes, making her stare more intense. The more they’re at a standstill, the more nervous he becomes.

“I couldn’t find the cheese again,” he blurts.

She nods.

“It’s only stocked the fourth Tuesday of the month,” she says, ripping open a bag of chips, and taking a few to cram in her mouth before offering them to Dimitri.

“Oh,” he says, taking a chip. “It was very good. My friends liked it a lot too.”

She stares for a moment again, then offers him a tiny smile, a brief upturn of her lips. She had expected him to, he realizes, and she’s at least minutely pleased to have that expectation fulfilled. A short laugh escapes him at how odd this all is.

“You didn’t buy anything that night,” he says, though it comes out as a question.

She shrugs.

“I was just there,” she says, offering the chip bag again.

“Just there,” he repeats, taking more chips. At 3:30AM. “To…hang out?”

She gives a brief shake of her head.

“To stare at a specifically stocked cheese, only to give them to a stranger to buy?” Dimitri tries again.

She blinks at him, popping more chips in her mouth.

“Not a stranger,” she says, after she finishes chewing.

“Pardon? Forgive me, I don’t…recall us meeting before that night?” he says. He would have remembered someone like her, he’d think.

“You’re Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd,” she says, and he blinks at her use of his full name. Her eyes crease in amusement at his expression. “Not a stranger to me.”

Ah.

“But you are a stranger to me,” he says, and she shrugs again, as if saying it’s not like it’s something he could help.

“Byleth,” she offers, putting the open bag of chips in his hands, and opening up another one. (He looks at the labeling on the front. Beast meat and onion flavor. Huh.) “Want to go on an adventure, Dimitri?”

He looks back at her, mouth slightly open. She continues to stare at him, munching away from the other bag of chips, waiting for his response.

“Okay,” he says.

She nods, then rinses her fingers at the sink before motioning for him to follow with her head. She takes the two bags of chips with her as she walks out of the kitchen.

She navigates the crowd until she finds a group of three, all dressed looking as if they could kill, dumping the chip bags into the hands of a redhead.

“Hm? Chatterbox, where did you find these?” the girl says, reading the unusual flavors.

“Kitchen cabinet,” Byleth says, and the girl shoots her a half-exasperated look, but questions no further.

She hands one of them to the girl with blonde curls beside her, and Dimitri proffers the third bag as well, which the redhead also takes with a curious glance at him. Byleth makes to leave, but the boy with lavender hair and sparkly eyeshadow—the same that glints on Byleth’s eyelids, he realizes—stops her.

“Whoa, hold on there, friend! Not so much an introduction?”

“You know him already,” Byleth says, and the boy frowns at her.

“Yuri Leclerc,” he says, turning to Dimitri.

“Name’s Hapi,” the redhead pipes up, still looking at the chips.

“And I am Constance von Nuvelle,” the blonde says, tilting up her chin with a haughty smile.

“Dimitri,” he says, a little shyly, since they already know him. “A pleasure.”

“I’m sure,” Yuri says, with a nod of his head, before glancing back at Byleth. “Are you leaving already? And kidnapping the Blaiddyd Heir?”

“Yes,” Byleth says.

A pause.

“Well, carry on then,” Yuri says with a shrug. “Want a drink before you go?”

“Yes,” Byleth says.

They wait as Yuri makes his way to the counter full of bottles a little ways away, watching as he makes a cocktail in a shaker with professional ease. He strains the drink into three cups, carrying all of them back, and Byleth and Dimitri take one each.

“You get what I’m drinking,” Yuri says, eyes wicked, and does not offer up what it is. Dimitri sips, and by the way it burns, he can tell it’s strong. Yuri looks faintly impressed with Dimitri’s lack of reaction beyond a few rapid blinks. “I’ll tell the Heir’s friends where he went, if I see them asking.”

“Thank you,” Dimitri says, realizing that he doesn’t know where any of them are at the moment.

Byleth merely nods, and motions for Dimitri to follow again.

The night air is refreshing, and Dimitri feels pleasantly floaty as he trails after his new friend. They round the Black Eagle complex and head into the dark woods behind; he doesn’t know where they’re going and feels like he shouldn’t ask; he has an idle thought that he should text one of his friends to let them know, but Byleth looks back at him to make sure he’s following and he can only think about how pretty she is. He smiles at her, and she tilts her head before reaching for his hand.

“Hand,” Dimitri says, looking down at them.

“Hand,” Byleth agrees. “The ground is uneven here.”

He looks a little longer and then swings them a little. Byleth looks amused.

He enjoys the silent companionship between them for a little while but quickly becomes curious, so he begins asking her questions. What year was she? A senior. Where did she live on campus? In Abyss, at the Ashen Wolf dorm. Her major? More or less the teaching program, with a focus on weapons and tactics. Technically it was something of a double major, paired with history and international studies. It was complicated. Her weapon concentrations? This year, faith and reason magic. She’d already passed for swords, brawling, and bows.

He stares at her open-mouthed as she answers his questions with easy patience.

“That’s…quite the curriculum,” he says slowly, “When do you sleep?”

She glances at him.

“I manage,” she says, “I could say the same for you.”

He pauses, looking up at the sky as he collects his thoughts, sipping at his drink absentmindedly. She must already know what his curriculum more or less was—the three heirs apparent of Adrestia, Faerghus, and Leicester attending the same school the same year had been quite the news, and though their ideas of management differed, they did also overlap in areas. A handful of their core classes were inevitably the same before they branched off into their own areas of interest. But in any case, all of them were double-majoring with incredibly heavy courseloads to help prepare for their futures.

“It’s just insomnia,” Dimitri says instead.

“Ah,” she says, nodding. “So, 3AM grocery shopping.”

“So 3AM grocery shopping,” he agrees.

He’s not sure how long they’ve been walking, but even if it’s been a long time, he finds this all terribly pleasant. A distant part of him is aware that he would not be this at ease had it not been for the drinks he’s had tonight. Alcohol is wonderful.

Byleth pushes through some branches, and they walk into a clearing, and Dimitri looks up at an enormous tree, his mouth open.

“Ta-da,” Byleth says, though her inflection doesn’t change, “Biggest tree on campus. Good place to sleep under.”

“Now?” Dimitri says, with some alarm.

“You could camp if you wanted to. But in the daytime,” Byleth tells him, drinking from her cup. “Try it sometime.”

He blinks at her, unsure if this is just a general suggestion or specifically geared advice.

“Not sure I could find it again,” he says, because he doesn’t recall the path they took at all, too distracted by other things. Also, despite the moon, it had been quite the dark trek.

“I’ll bring you,” she says simply.

They go closer to the tree, and Byleth reaches up to one of the lowest branches and snaps off two thin stalks of leaves, inspecting them before nodding.

“Okay, let’s go back.”

“Oh,” Dimitri says, a little dumbfounded, “Okay.”

They make their way back. Along the way, Dimitri finishes his drink, Byleth stumbles over a tree root (her shoes are heeled, he realizes just now, how did she trek all the way in those?), and Dimitri somewhat insistently offers her a piggy back ride. She accepts, loosely wrapping her arms around his neck with both of their empty cups stacked in one hand, and Dimitri feels just a little giddy. He wants to run. (He tells himself not to.)

“You know,” she says after a while, resting her chin on his shoulder, “You shouldn’t follow strangers into dark and unknown places.”

“Not a stranger,” Dimitri says, feeling exceedingly proud of himself for the response.

He feels rather than sees her smile, and is disappointed he can’t see it. When they make it to Dorothea’s, Sylvain and Felix are outside, and the former hollers when he sees him.

“You stupid boar, why the hell didn’t you pick up your phone?!” Felix hisses when they near, and Dimitri’s eyes widen.

Byleth hops off of his back (and Sylvain stares), and Dimitri pulls his phone out of his pocket to see six notifications of missed calls and texts.

“It was on silent,” Dimitri says apologetically, and Felix huffs. “Sorry.”

“Aw, no harm no foul,” Sylvain says, “Dimitri was just occupied, huh?”

“I kidnapped him,” Byleth says, throwing the two empty cups into a nearby trash can.

“We had an adventure,” Dimitri says, enthusiastically.

“Did you now,” Sylvain says, looking at Byleth, who merely stares back and adjusts her posture like a challenge. It only serves to make Sylvain more intrigued.

“This is Byleth,” Dimitri says, “From the dairy aisle!”

“Oh, the 3AM cheese goddess?” Sylvain says with a laugh, and Felix flushes at the stupid moniker as Byleth blinks in surprise.

“Yes,” Dimitri nods, “She says it’s only stocked…uh…”

“The fourth Tuesday of the month,” she supplies.

“What the fuck?” Felix says incredulously.

She shrugs. A chime goes off, and this time Byleth reaches into her bra to pull out her phone. All three boys stare at her.

“Gotta go,” she says, tapping out a quick reply. “Balthus is fighting someone.”

“Ah,” Dimitri says, wilting, his eyes and countenance like a sad puppy.

“You’ll see me around,” Byleth tells him with a faint smile, and disappears back into the apartment.

“He’s smitten,” Sylvain whispers to Felix, watching Dimitri stare after her.

“Disgusting,” Felix says back, scowling. “He’s also drunk. Did she say there was a fight?”

They head back in to find the rest of their friends to assure them that Dimitri is alive. There is indeed a fight, but a result of two very brawny guys—one presumably Balthus, the other Raphael—testing their abilities against each other. Dorothea is yelling, trying to get them to take it outside before they break things in her apartment and someone else gets hurt, to no avail.

Dimitri catches Yuri’s eye from across the crowd, who grins and waves in a cheeky sort of manner, pointing back to the ring. Byleth then appears, sliding her way in between them with impeccable timing and launching her own surprise attack. She punches the one with wild dark hair in the gut, then grabs him by the wrist and throws him to the floor. The apartment erupts in cheers.

“Aw, what the hell, Byleth!” Balthus yells, sitting up.

“Didn’t you hear the lady?” she says to both him and Raphael, who is also cheering, “Outside.”

“You deserved that, B,” Hapi chimes in, “You started it.”

“Alright, alright,” Balthus groans. “Round two outside, then!”

Sylvain elbows Felix, and they both look at Dimitri.

“Smitten,” Sylvain says.

“Disgusting,” Felix says, with feeling.

(Alcohol is terrible, Dimitri decides the next morning, when he wakes up with a massive hangover. He ventures out of his room and all three of his childhood friends—who are somehow already up, how was that possible?—stare at him in one coordinated movement to incredibly eerie effect. They also look how he feels.

“We’ve got the hangover cures,” Ingrid says, placing a plate of greasy breakfast food down as Sylvain holds up the full coffeepot and Felix rattles their mega-size bottle of aspirin. “So spill about what the hell happened last night.”

Dimitri demurs momentarily to brush his teeth and wash his face. After, he sits down at their common table, accepts a cup of coffee, and dutifully spills.)

It’s two weeks before he sees Byleth again, having not being able to catch a glimpse of her anywhere. Garreg Mach was a big university, and he hadn’t recognized her from campus previously, but…now that he was looking, he’d kind of expected to at least see her on occasion from a distance.

It’s another late-night chore night, and it’s about 1AM when he hauls his basket of dirty clothes to the laundry room. He expects the potential of others doing their laundry since the hour isn’t that late, but when he pushes through the doors he does not expect to see Byleth sitting on top of one of the washing machines, legs drawn up, a hardcover book perched on her lap.

She holds up a hand in greeting, as if she had been waiting for him to walk through the door.

“Hello,” Dimitri returns, blinking a few times, disoriented.

One, her legs are distracting him, because they are so bare and it doesn’t look like she’s wearing pants. Two, while she isn’t disallowed here to do laundry, this is the Blue Lion dorm. She lives in the Ashen Wolf dorm, which is oddly isolated from every other housing, so there is absolutely no reason for her to be doing laundry here, at a location of total inconvenience, at 1AM.

“What are you doing here?” he ventures, walking over and setting down his basket in front of the empty one next to her.

Byleth lets her legs down so they dangle over the side of the washing machine, just over her sandals. She is wearing pants, he sees—or shorts, rather. They’re just…very short, and her oversized sweatshirt nearly covers them. She looks comfy, at least.

“Reading,” Byleth responds, holding up the book, A Treatise on Srengian Weaponcraft.

“You’re studying—here?” Dimitri asks incredulously.

Byleth shrugs.

“Good of a place as any,” she says.

“I...guess it could be,” Dimitri relents.

It’s not busy at this time, and the machines are top-notch, so the noise they produce could be acceptable enough ambience. He stares at her a minute before he moves on to load his clothes into the machine, carefully measuring out the detergent and pressing his desired settings. Byleth watches him, and when the immediate task is completed, Dimitri nervously faces her.

“I um…I’m sorry for my behavior at the party,” he says, trying not to wring his hands as he thinks about the piggyback ride. “My actions were—overfamiliar.”

“On the contrary,” Byleth counters easily, “You helped me out.”

He brightens a little at that, and she tilts her head at him. After a moment she smiles a little, and Dimitri feels his heart skip a beat.

“How was the morning after?” she asks, and Dimitri coughs at the wording.

“Not ideal,” he admits, rubbing the max of his neck. “My tolerance is not very high. But I recovered.”

“I’ll note that,” she says, with a nod. “Yuri hits hard with his drinks. You took it well, considering.”

He debates whether to bring up his lack of taste, but decides against it. That conversation always goes one way, and he doesn’t want to bring up past tragedies and traumas, right now.

“You were okay?” he asks instead, and she gives him an amused look.

“High tolerance,” she says. “Father’s side.”

“Ah,” Dimitri nods. Not that he knows her very well, but she hadn’t seemed drunk at all—though by the time he’d run into her in the kitchen he wasn’t confident in his own observational accuracy. He doesn’t know where to go from here, and his eyes fall on her book. “So…Srengian weaponry?” he tries, and winces at the awkwardness of the delivery.

But Byleth nods.

“Known for their maces,” she says absently, cracking the text open again, “But their other weapons have some good durability.” She pauses, looking at him. “Might be a worthwhile investment.”

He blinks. The Blaiddyd line is well-known for their greater-than-average strength, and Dimitri is no exception. Still, he hates how easily things break in his hands; even iron and steel can shatter in his grip if he’s startled. But Byleth offers this suggestion so matter-of-factly, as if she were recommending a flavor of ice cream or color of shirt, that he can’t even be embarrassed about it.

“It might be,” Dimitri says eventually. “I’ll look into it. Sylvain has contacts in Sreng.”

“So do I, if you need another,” Byleth says, and Dimitri blinks at her again.

Sreng’s clan politics are notoriously turbulent, and Sylvain only had actual contacts because he had been trying to improve relations as the next head of House Gautier, whose lands bordered Sreng. Otherwise, Sreng wasn’t usually a place people had, or could get, contacts in.

“You…have contacts in Sreng?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“My father used to be a mercenary before a bodyguard,” Byleth says absently, “So I grew up as one, too. We used to travel a lot.”

There’s more to it, Dimitri can tell, but he doesn’t push, purely because he doesn’t know what, exactly, to ask.

“There more I learn about you, the less I seem to know,” he says with a wry smile after a minute.

She stares at him.

“And to me, you feel familiar,” she murmurs.

His eyes widen.

“Oh,” he says.

“Oh,” she agrees.

There’s silence.

“I only ever seem to meet you unexpectedly,” he ventures, after a long while. The washer beeps, the lock to the door releasing. He goes to open it.

“I’m not a ghost,” Byleth says, watching as he takes out his damp clothes and begins moving them to the dryer.

“That’s relieving,” he smiles. “I also only ever seem to see you at night.”

She only smiles faintly at that.

“Let’s spar,” she says.

“Wha—now?”

“No, tomorrow,” she says. “During the day.”

He’s not entirely sure what brought this on, but he does think he’d like very much to see her fight.

“After one o’clock?” He asks, wracking his brain for his schedule, and she considers it for a moment before nodding and hopping off of the washing machine.

She slides her feet back into her sandals ad begins walking away. Dimitri panics for a moment, because they haven’t hashed out any details.

“Wait! How will we—?”

“I’ll make myself visible,” Byleth says, already halfway out the door as she peeks back, “You won’t miss me.”

And then she’s gone. Dimitri shakes his head as he finishes moving the rest of his laundry. Once he straightens back up, he realizes she’s left her book.

A tether, he thinks.

After a moment, as he waits for his clothes to dry, he picks it up and cracks it open.

A good of a place to read as any.

He tries to not tell his friends after lunch where he’s going (and technically, he doesn’t even know), but his antsiness is apparent, so his secret-keeping fails spectacularly. Sylvain and Ingrid tag team him, and he gives Ingrid a betrayed look.

“Fellas, do we think it’s a date?” Sylvain asks, holding out his hands as if he’s addressing a council.

“It’s sparring,” Ingrid says, “Not a date.”

“Could be a date,” Felix says.

“Only you would consider that a date,” Sylvain laments.

Felix shoves him. Dimitri hurries along, trying to leave them behind in the cafeteria to no avail. He really wishes he had been more insistent on details last night, because in a few moments, he’ll be at a loss of where he should be heading.

It’s a needless worry, because as he walks out, he is reminded of Byleth’s words. In the distance, where the space opens up and there are benches situated along walkways, an enormous amount of birds are flocking.

“Oh,” Dimitri says, and when his friends catch up behind him, they also stare.

“What the hell is that?” Felix says, and Dimitri picks his way towards the mass.

“Byleth, I think,” Dimitri answers faintly. “She said I wouldn’t miss her.”

When they near the birds scatter in one movement, though some brave ones flutter back. Byleth is indeed revealed to have been in the middle—and cause—of that, a bag of birdseed mostly empty in her hands. She nods her head in greeting as Sylvain starts laughing.

“Hello,” Ingrid says, whacking Sylvain once, but he doesn’t stop and doubles over instead, “I think I missed out on meeting you properly at Dorothea’s. I’m Ingrid.”

She holds out her hand, and Byleth says her name in return as she shakes it.

“I want in on the spar,” Felix says, and Sylvain wheezes, his laughter abruptly cut off by Felix’s self-imposed third-wheeling status of this potential date.

“Okay,” Byleth says without hesitation, and Ingrid and Sylvain sigh. Not a date.

Dimitri isn’t offended, mostly intrigued. Byleth stands, brushing feathers and seeds off of her lap, and sets off in the direction of the gyms and training halls. The others follow, Ingrid and Sylvain too interested to stay behind.

Dimitri had brought a change of clothes, but it becomes evident that Byleth intends to fight in her jeans and nice blouse and heeled boots, so he doesn’t end up changing. There’s no conversation, though Sylvain fills the silence with chatter anyway, as if this is a routine they know well.

Byleth picks up a practice sword and Felix’s eyes gleam; Dimitri picks up a practice lance, handling it with a light touch.

“Best two out of three,” Byleth says, and Dimitri nods.

She lets him take first hit, the two of them warming up as they trade easy blows. She’s quick, but so is Dimitri despite his size. He does well enough at keeping her at a distance, but he misreads her intention and she lunges in close, tapping her blade against his ribs.

“Point!” Sylvain calls excitedly.

“No need to go easy,” she says, “For lances, the moment the distance closes, you have to be quick and readjust, or it’s over.”

“Yes, Professor,” Dimitri says, the title slipping out. “Ah—”

Byleth gives him an amused look but doesn’t comment, getting back into position.

They go again. Dimitri throws away some of his reservations but still not entirely, and she lands the second round too.

“Harder,” she says, and Sylvain whistles as Dimitri flushes.

“I’m concerned about my strength,” he admits, examining the practice lance. Breakage of the practice equipment itself is no matter, but it’s the ensuing issues that can arise.

“Mercenary training, remember,” Byleth says, and though they don’t see it, Felix, Sylvain, and Ingrid’s eyebrows rise.

Dimitri frowns, but takes a deep breath, and trusts her.

He whirls. Byleth’s reflexes are excellent and she dodges fairly easily, tracking his moments with an even sharper gaze than before. He doesn’t like fighting, but he’s been trained since he was a child; it wasn’t necessary in this day and age to know how to—it was more common to just hire protection detail against demonic or wild beasts, or other enemies—but those descended from the old noble bloodlines especially still held onto tradition, whether as a hobby or actual self-protection. Even so, he can tell the difference between them; she’s seen real battle, and though he has too, not in the same capacity. The way she strategizes and reads his movements in a split second is incredible.

The cracks from their clashing practice blades are louder, and Dimitri registers that his will shatter soon. It’s hard to control his strength when the fight is so exhilarating. He goes for it anyway, jumping back from her slash and spinning his lance in his hands rapidly; Byleth’s eyes narrow, and he lunges.

He just barely sees her move, her timing is impeccable—she jumps, stomping the tip of the lance into the ground before stepping forward and snapping his lance at its weakest point. As her foot hits the ground, she crouches low and sweeps his legs out from under him.

When he opens his eyes, she has her sword under his chin.

“A good move,” she says, “But it’s going to take more than that to catch me.”

She’s not even saying it flirtatiously. She does, however, smile at little at him before offering a hand up, and Dimitri thinks he might be in love.

“Oh, he’s done for,” Sylvain says under his breath.

“He doesn’t deserve her,” Felix scoffs, his tone almost bored, but his eyes are bright at the display of Byleth’s skill.

Ingrid doesn’t say anything, and when the two boys turn to her, having expected her to respond, they see her typing furiously on her phone.

“Traitor,” Felix says, clicking his tongue.

“Just doing my duty,” Ingrid replies solemnly.

(Felix also loses all three bouts against Byleth, though he comes close the third time. Afterwards, they all end up training together, and even Sylvain puts his mind to it after Ingrid drags him onto the field.

“We’re getting milkshakes,” Ingrid declares, after they wrap up.

She’s sitting on the ground while Sylvain is lying flat on his back. Felix and Dimitri are less expressive, but they too look worn. Byleth is unreadable, but she does, at least, look a little winded. She offers a hand to Ingrid, while Felix rolls his eyes and pulls Sylvain up after he complains.

“Dimitri’s buying yours, Byleth,” Ingrid says, and the two in question look surprised.

“Oh,” Byleth says, “I—”

“Allow me,” Dimitri smiles.

Byleth blinks at him.

“Okay,” she says. “Thank you.”

Felix and Sylvain look at Ingrid, who looks smug.

“I’ll buy yours, Ingrid,” Sylvain says, with a discreet salute.

“I’m buying my own,” Felix tells them.

They all fall into step. Byleth politely listens to them squabble all the way to the shop.)

Byleth comes and goes when she wants to, like a cat or a ghost.

On a few occasions she shows up during their group lunches, stealing fries or other sides off of someone’s plate (mostly Dimitri’s), staying only to chat for a few minutes before she is off again. Sometimes she is in the company of her friends—the ones Dimitri met at Dorothea’s party (who he learns are also her suitemates) or Linhardt von Hevring, who seems to be either half-asleep or hyperfocused on his thesis project. Dimitri actually does see her around campus sometimes now, but he does see her friends more than he does her.

“Dunno what to say about that,” Yuri tells him, when he and Dimitri cross paths and are walking the same way to their next classes, “Half the time she’s not in her room and none of us know where she is. She’s always been like that. That’s just Byleth.”

“You’ve known her long?” Dimitri queries.

“Maybe around—five, six years? Constance, Hapi, Balthus, and I banded together after some…unfortunate circumstances. Byleth helped us out of a tight spot during our last year of high school. Stuck with her ever since.”

“I see,” Dimitri says, and Yuri glances at him.

“You’re not bad, Princeling,” Yuri says after a moment. Most people want to pry into the “unfortunate circumstances” and “tight spot” that he spoke of, and Yuri feels more inclined towards Dimitri for not doing so.

Dimitri winces instead.

“It’s just…”

He trails off. Yuri can guess why.

“Ohh. Yeah, okay. I get it.”

Dimitri blinks at him in surprise.

“You do?”

Yuri doesn’t answer that. There’s little he doesn’t know about the people on campus; the Blaiddyd Heir didn’t question Yuri, so Yuri will not question him in turn.

“Byleth’s Byleth,” he says instead, “Count yourself lucky that she makes a point to find you.”

With that, Yuri nods his head and turns into his classroom. Dimitri stands there, mulling over Yuri’s words, before he realizes that he’s running late and dashes to his own class.

There’s a small park nearby that Dimitri goes to as well during the nights he can’t sleep. All it has is a couple of benches and a swingset and a basketball court; a surprising number of people use both during the day, but unsurprisingly, no one’s there at night.

Except Byleth. Dimitri is no longer startled when he comes across her, even though her presence is always more unexpected than not. She’s swinging on the swings, kicking up woodchips as she drags her feet.

“Hi,” Dimitri says, walking closer. “Need a push?”

She nods, and he helps her swing higher. Pretty quickly the height she reaches seems dangerous, but she just calls “higher” and so he keeps pushing, until it seems like she is going to go over the whole set.

“Um,” Dimitri says, pushing her once more, and she glances at him as she surges up.

As she glides forward and reaches the highest point—she jumps.

Dimitri yells, startled, but she soars through the air, serene and graceful with her arms outstretched, hair spreading out behind her. She nails the landing a ways away, and when she turns back to him, she has a faint smile curving her lips, looking—exhilarated.

“You scared me,” Dimitri says, holding a hand over his rapidly beating heart.

“Sorry,” she murmurs, as she walks back to him. “Again?”

He frowns at her. She tilts her head. Something about the way she went through the air—he can’t place that brand of fear. He gives himself a shake, forces a weak smile onto his face.

“Okay,” he says, and she blinks at him a few times before seating herself back on the swing.

She jumps three more times before she’s satisfied, then offers to push him if he wants a turn, or four. He politely declines, but sits on the other swing, and they move back and forth lazily.

“Drink for your thoughts?” she asks after a while, and rummages through her bag that he didn’t see earlier, pulling out a glass water bottle.

Dimitri debates, taking the bottle warily.

“Did Yuri make this?” he asks, shaking it a little, and Byleth smiles at him.

“Constance did,” she says. “It’s pleasant.”

It smells fruity when he opens the top, so he takes her word for it. It goes down easily and doesn’t burn at all, so he assumes (hopes) it’s of the weaker alcohol content variety as well.

“Do you…know what you’re going to do after you graduate?” he asks hesitantly, passing the drink back to her.

Once the question is out, he realizes the truth of it—Byleth will be graduating at the end of this year. The fact saddens him more strongly than he would have thought.

She’s silent for a while, sipping twice from her bottle.

“Yes and no,” she says finally. Opens her mouth as if to speak again, closes it. Turns to him. “You’re thinking about your position as heir.”

“I want it,” he says automatically, then pauses to consider if that’s true. It doesn’t feel like a lie, but…“I…I have never known anything else.”

Byleth looks at him, leans forward a little so that her hair falls forward too.

“That’s okay too,” she says, “To want—or to be okay with—what others want of you, until you don’t.”

He looks back at her.

“How will I know if I don’t?” he asks.

“You’ll know. Or…your friends will be able to tell.” She pauses, swings a little. “It’s hard to say.”

“You seem to have all the answers,” he says, and she raises an eyebrow.

“I’m not sure I really gave you any,” she says.

“That helped, nonetheless,” he says, with a smile. “Thank you.”

She smiles back.

They share the drink between them until Byleth speaks again.

“I avoided your question earlier,” she says.

“Technically you answered it,” he responds, drinking again.

She snorts, and laughs a little. Dimitri feels inordinately proud of himself.

“I’m answering it again, then,” she says, though she pauses still. “I might want to be a teacher. I might want to do what my father does.” She cocks her head. “I’ve been given a lot of choices. Theoretically, I could do anything I want.” She looks at him. “I don’t know what I want.”

Dimitri pauses, holds her gaze.

“It’s okay to not want, until you do?” he tries, and she laughs again.

“Does it work like that?”

“It could,” Dimitri says. “Probably?” He pauses. “You could pick one until you don’t want it anymore.”

Byleth swings.

“It could work like that,” she says with a slight nod. She glances at him. “Thanks.”

He gives her a helpless sort of shrug, not feeling like he really gave her an answer, either. He guesses he understands how she felt just a few moments ago, then.

“Bottoms up,” she says, and drains half of the remaining liquid in the bottle, handing the rest to Dimitri to finish up.

He does so dutifully, and she puts the empty bottle back in her bag. After, she kicks off the ground, swinging higher and higher. Dimitri watches her, then gets up, walking a bit of a distance away. She watches him in turn, then flashes him a sort of sharp smile before she pumps her legs once more for momentum, then sends herself flying.

He gauges the distance, adjusting his position, then catches her as she comes hurtling down.

“Oof,” he says, as their bodies collide and he wraps his arms around her.

“Nice,” she says into his neck, then leans back to look at him.

Oh. She’s so close. His eyes widen as he stares, lips slightly parted; her expression is unreadable, but she isn’t looking away, and he can feel her breath on his skin as she tilts a little closer, his heart beating so fast he swears she must hear it—

He lets her down. His brain immediately starts screaming. Idiot idiot idiot, why did you do that, WHY DID YOU DO THAT??? WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT???

Byleth, for her part, looks unruffled and unperturbed.

“Finals are coming up,” Dimitri says, very smoothly.

She nods, walking back to the swingset to take her bag, slinging the strap over her shoulder.

“If we’re awake, we might as well study,” she says, very seriously.

He follows her out of the park, walks her back to the dorm partway.

“Good night,” she says.

“Good night,” he echoes, and he watches her walk away until he can’t see her anymore.

When she’s out of sight, he squats down and puts his head in his hands.

(He puts himself on trial tomorrow, when his friends are awake. Sylvain and Felix sit across from him, and their gazes are piercing when he recounts the previous night. Ingrid does not sit at the table because she is more inclined to be sympathetic, and moves in the background making a smoothie for herself.

Sylvain wails when Dimitri tells That Part of the story. Felix is silent, just sits there with folded arms and looks so many levels of disappointed, though it’s probably not necessarily just about this one thing.

It’s like that maybe for forty-five minutes, this whole pathetic display. Ingrid leans against the counter, drinks her smoothie, and recounts a play-by-play on her phone into one of her group chats.)

Dimitri does not see Byleth again until they are well into finals week, and he tries not to despair.

“It is finals week,” Mercedes says soothingly.

“And she’s a senior,” Annette adds. “She’s gotta be super busy!”

“Plus, you said you never know when you see her!” Ashe says helpfully, “It’s been longer before, right?”

“But,” Sylvain almost howls, pulling at his hair, “After that? AFTER THAT?”

“Sylvain!” Annette and Ashe scold, but Dimitri feels the same. He doesn’t even have the number so he can apologize, because she always appears and disappears so suddenly that it keeps slipping his mind to ask.

Felix’s frown has grown more severe. Ingrid and Dedue look at each other and back at Dimitri, and say nothing. Mercedes and Annette look at Ingrid almost pleadingly, who gives them a sheepish shrug.

“It’ll be okay, Dimitri!” Annette tries again, and he lets out a sad sort of keen.

“For now, just focus on finals,” Mercedes suggests, “And then maybe it’ll all work out afterwards?”

“It will at least be a distraction,” Dedue finally chimes in.

Dimitri says nothing. Sylvain says it all for him.

Dimitri sees Byleth’s friends around a few times, and though he knows them and they know him, he hasn’t spoken to them very much, so he feels awkward asking after Byleth. Yuri, on the other hand, he knows better, and the boy looks amused when Dimitri (hopefully) casually brings her up.

Yuri has nothing new to share though, except he does insinuate that Byleth is hard at work at finalizing her thesis paper. Dimitri calms a little at that—enough to focus better on his own work later. Yuri gives him a look and pats his shoulder lightly before walking off.

As always, when Dimitri does find Byleth, it’s unexpected.

He’s half dead after finishing his last final, one that took place in one of the more isolated buildings on campus. Pleased that he’s finally done with that, at least, he takes the scenic route back to his dorm—there’s a glass hallway that cuts through a forested area with a river, and it’s especially beautiful this time of year.

As he looks out, movement catches his eye down below, and he’s startled to see Byleth come out from under the old stone bridge and look up at him.

His heart leaps to his throat. She waves, and he waves back hesitantly, and then she motions for him to come down.

Dimitri looks left and right, trying to figure out the best way to reach her, and he goes.

He’s slightly out of breath when he reaches her, and she has a pile of stones in her hand when he does. He blinks at them, meeting her eyes, confused and mildly concerned as to what she might use them for. Is she angry? But she’d waved him down…but was it because she was angry and about to give him a piece of her mind?

“Do you know how to skip stones?” she asks, and it takes him a minute to process.

“I…suppose I’ve never tried,” he admits.

She nods, then proceeds to do so, showing him the method. He watches as she considers the angle, then snaps her wrist as she throws the stone, which skips beautifully across the surface of the river before hitting the other side. Byleth deposits half of the stones into Dimitri’s hand, and they spend the next few minutes skipping stones—or in Dimitri’s case, trying and failing.

He ends up becoming focused on trying to succeed, Byleth keeping him stocked with a steady supply of choice stones. When he finally manages to skip one (though it only skips once before it plops into the water), he shouts in triumph, turning to her excitedly.

“Did you see that?!” he says, and freezes when he catches sight of her face.

She’s smiling, the expression both amused and proud and gentle and absolutely, absolutely mesmerizing.

“It’s nice to focus on things that aren’t exams,” she says, turning back to the river. “You’re all done?”

“Y-yes,” Dimitri stutters. “You too?”

She nods, checking her phone.

“Handed in my last paper yesterday,” she says absently, “Finished up packing up my things today.”

His throat goes dry. It feels like the world is slanting and narrowing to this point, where Byleth leaves and steps out of his life forever (forever?) and this is where it ends.

“Oh,” he says, and it comes out as almost a whisper. He clears his throat nervously. “Oh. I—do you need help moving anything?”

“No, it’s okay,” Byleth says, “I don’t…have too many things anyway. I just wanted to—”

“It would be no trouble!” Dimitri blurts, somewhat frantic. He’s cutting her off, he knows, and it’s stupid to think that if he prolongs the conversation she’ll stay a little longer, but—it’s not exactly wrong, either, is it? “I mean, I’m sure some things would be heavy, and I could—”

She looks a little surprised at his interruption, but blinks it away.

“No, I—”

“It would be faster, probably, but I mean, not that I want you to leave faster—”

“Dimitri—”

“—the opposite, really, but I mean, you’re graduating! That’s exciting, I’m sure you can’t wait to be out of here—”

“Dimitri—”

“You probably have some great summer plans, and I hope you will—”

“Go out with me.”

“Yes, exactly, go out with me, I—what?”

He snaps to attention, thinking surely he must have heard wrong. Despite the fact he was unraveling at the seams, Byleth looks amused, if also a little worried.

“I’m—sorry, could you repeat that?” he breathes, and Byleth shifts her position a little, the movement just slightly unusual.

“Go out with me?” she says again, though it’s pitched more as a question this time.

Oh, Goddess, he hadn’t heard wrong. And…that shifting, the pitch of her tone, was she—nervous?

Dimitri gapes at her and she meets his gaze calmly, though after a prolonged silence she looks to the side, tilting her head down a little as if embarrassed.

“You…can say no, you know,” she says softly, and he blanches.

“No! I mean, yes! I mean—I’d like to go out with you very much,” he says, defaulting to a more formal tone and posture out of desperation.

She looks back up at him and smiles again.

“I’m…glad I didn’t misunderstand your heartbeat last time,” she says, and he both winces and flushes at the reminder of that night.

“I—panicked,” he says, looking away. “But I…regretted it very much, after.”

“I know,” Byleth says.

“You know?” he asks, mouth falling open a little.

She only nods, amused again, but offers no explanation.

“Come here,” she says, motioning for him to lean down.

He does, and she kisses his cheek.

“Hand,” she says, and he obeys mechanically, shocked by that simple action.

Byleth pulls out a marker and scrawls on his wrist. He stares at it incredulously when she pulls away.

“My number,” she says pointedly when he doesn’t say anything. “I do actually have to go, but call me. Or text me. Whatever. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Of…course not,” he says, somewhat in awe. This is happening, it’s really happening.

Byleth looks like she wants to laugh again, but she gives him a little wave and makes her way back up to the building. It takes him too long to recover and realize that he should have walked her back. When he does regain his senses, however, he pulls out his phone, typing out a text as fast as he can.

Can we meet over the summer?

It’s only a few minutes before he receives a reply.

Yes.

Are you free next week?

Yes.

Canitakeyououttuesdayarounclunchtime

There’s a few seconds of pause, and Dimitri suspects she is laughing.

Yes. It’s a date.

He grins stupidly at his phone, rereading the conversation over and over again until he’s satisfied. Then he runs back to his dorm, throwing open the door with wild abandon.

“Guess what!” he shouts into the room, and he’s in luck, because all three of his suitemates are there, each in the midst of something different. Sylvain pokes his head out of his room, Felix looks up from the stove, and Ingrid looks over from the laundry she’s folding.

“Oh, shit, really?” Sylvain says, taking in Dimitri’s expression and also honing in on the number on Dimitri’s wrist. “You finally got her number?”

“We’re dating!” he announces, then pauses. “I mean, well, if I understood correctly, unless she was just—?”

“You’re dating,” Ingrid tells him before anxiety can take him over, grinning widely. “Congrats.”

Felix just waves the spatula in his hand, but he mutters thank the Goddess—about fucking time under his breath.

Sylvain, who is closest, is the first to be subjected to one of Dimitri’s bone-crushing hugs, and even spun around a few times. Felix hisses from where he stands, but is unable to escape being next in line. Ingrid laughs and pats Dimitri’s back when it’s her turn.

“Had a good semester?” she asks fondly.

“It was an excellent semester,” Dimitri says brightly.

“Disgusting,” Felix grumbles, and Ingrid and Sylvain laugh.

Dimitri knocks on the door nervously, trying not to fidget too much as he waits. He doesn’t have to wait long, however—but when the door opens, his eyes go wide.

A man roughly his own height, muscular and rugged with a scar across his cheekbone, a grave sort of face, and an air of someone who demands respect without having to ask for it, stands in the doorway with a large mug in hand.

“Can I help you?” he asks, his voice rough and deep.

Dimitri’s attention goes to the mug for a moment, which he registers reads “World’s Best Dad” in big letters, confirming his assumptions.

“I’m—here to pick up Byleth?” Dimitri manages, and to his relief, Byleth’s father simply nods and turns back into the house.

“By! Your Blaiddyd boy is here!” then, turning back to Dimitri, “Come in.”

He wonders briefly how he knows who Dimitri is on sight; his name might be well known enough, but he tries to stay out of anything where his image might be broadcasted. He steps inside cautiously, then glances at the man again. There’s something strangely familiar about him that he can’t quite place, and it’s not because of his relation to Byleth, because they look nothing alike.

“The kid’ll be a minute,” her father says, “Anyway, I’m Jeralt. Obviously, I’m By’s dad.”

“I’m Dimitri Blaiddyd,” Dimitri introduces, with a weak smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Jeralt just grunts and pats Dimitri’s shoulder in acknowledgement before offering him coffee, which Dimitri accepts out of nervousness. The drink is potent and bracing, without sugar or milk, and Jeralt refills his own mug.

Dimitri peeks at him from over the rim, still trying to figure out why Jeralt is familiar as the man stretches, the multitude of pops and cracks coming from his body making Dimitri wince.

“Don’t get old,” Jeralt tells him, “How reckless you were in your youth doesn’t fuck around when it cashes in.”

“You’re reckless now,” Byleth says as she comes down the stairs. “Cut back on the drinking.”

She’s in a loose blouse and mid-length skirt this time, a pink headband decorating her hair. Every time Dimitri seems her she seems to be sporting a different style. It’s fun.

Jeralt grunts.

“Yeah, well, can’t avoid recklessness in my line of work, and Rhea sure as hell don’t know how to take it easy. Trust me, the drinks are necessary.”

It clicks, then, and Dimitri almost cracks the cup in his hands. He lets out a strangled noise, and both Byleth and Jeralt look at him.

“You’re Jeralt Eisner,” he wheezes, looking to Byleth and back to Jeralt again. “You guard Madam Rhea—you’re the Blade Breaker, Seiros Security’s finest!”

Jeralt drinks his coffee.

“Well, it’s embarrassing to be called that, and also—kid, he didn’t know?”

Byleth shrugs. “Never came up.”

Jeralt sighs.

“Well, there it is, then. Yeah, Rhea and I go…way back, and now I’m in charge of her security company. By’s been trained since she was a kid, so…if you have any issues, she’s got your back.”

Dimitri looks at Byleth, who flashes him a peace sign with a deadpan expression.

“Thank you,” he says, for lack of anything else to say. She nods.

Jeralt looks amused, then waves them off.

“Anyway, have fun or whatever, and bring him back by curfew if he has one, kid.”

Byleth nods, and Dimitri looks back and forth, unable to fully process the information he’s just learned. But Byleth tugs him along, they’re out of the house and in his car before he regains his senses and looks at her.

“Every time I see you, you surprise me,” he says, and Byleth smiles faintly.

“Yuri says a lady cannot reveal her secrets,” she says, “But I think I’d like to start sharing them with you.”

Dimitri blinks at her, surprised, but then smiles.

“I’d be honored if you did,” he says. “There are…things I’d like to tell you as well, in time.”

She nods, looking pleased.

“We’ve got plenty,” she says. “So, where to?”

“There’s a new Duscurian spot that opened up a couple miles away. I was thinking we try it?”

“Lead the way,” Byleth smiles.

Dimitri starts driving. He lets Byleth choose the music and roll down the window; the wind ruffles their hair vigorously and she tries to keep it out of his face for him, which makes him laugh before she just rolls the windows up again.

He knows this is just the beginning, but there’s happiness bubbling up in his chest and a sense of ease and contentment over them both—so what he also knows is that it’s going to be a wonderful summer.

#dimileth #Fire Emblem Three Houses #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #byleth eisner #dimitri x byleth #dimitri x f!byleth #fanfiction #listen there's like no real context and no worldbuilding and the characterization is questionable #BUT i had fun #migraine hit hard today so editing was very cursory rip

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redbokuto · 3 years

Text

Awaited Encounter~ part 4

Bokuto’s lips curled up to support the pencil he was trying to balance on them. My fingers gripped our textbook tightly, glaring at the childish college student. “Bokuto…” I mumbled with a tinge of annoyance.

Normally, his antics wouldn’t bother me but after several hours of studying, my emotions tend to get a bit loose. At this point all the words in the textbook looked the same. The sight made my head pulse, and my eyes burn.

Bokuto frowned at my tone, making the pencil fall from his lips. “Akashii! When am I going to use this in life!” The gray-haired boy complained. He leaned back in his chair, letting the tank top he wore stretch.

“Probably never.” I answered honestly. My eyes traveled across the table to where Bokuto sat. I tried not to stare at his exposed muscles now that he is wearing less clothing than usual. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to have our study session at Bokuto’s apartment.

Kuro, Bokuto’s close friend and roommate, left us alone. I didn’t get to meet him; he was already gone by the time I arrived.

“Then why am I learning it!” Bokuto whined like a child. His head tilted back, showing more of his pale neck. My eyes wandered around Bokuto’s body with care. I took in as many features about him as possible before exhaling. “Let’s take a break.” I stated while closing the large textbook.

The sentence brought life to Bokuto. His head sprung back up and a grin grew on his lips. “Hey hey hey! How about some food? It’s late isn’t it, it’s almost 8.”

I watched as the energetic man bounced off his seat and headed towards the kitchen. His top moving with every step. I swear that shirt was made to take my attention.

The view of Bokuto’s broad back graced me as the tall man searched his cabinets. He has changed so much since those days. When we were kids, Bokuto was a little chubby with his round cheeks and baby fat. Looking back on it, he was adorable.

Now though, that has changed. I would not describe Bokuto’s appearance as adorable anymore. More like… mature and taunting…

“How about I make us something?” Bokuto suggested, taking ingredients out of his white fridge. Bokuto’s apartment is a lot cozier than mine. When you walk in, you are in the living room with a small kitchen attached. The floor is made of light brown wood and the walls are painted with a light beige.

You could tell when you first walk in that this was a boy’s apartment. There was no theme to the rooms from what I’ve seen so far. There was even random stuff on the floor. Like a wooden boat which Bokuto calls his ‘adventure time’. I can’t even begin to question that concept.

Even though the apartment was strange and messy, I couldn’t help but admire it. You could tell the people here made many good memories, unlike my apartment.

“You can cook?” I asked with the tilt of my head. Bokuto turned around and frowned, “why do you sound so surprised?”

“Because I am.” I answered before moving from the table to one of the reclining chairs. Another thing weird about this apartment was its organization. Their couch was not the center piece of furniture, it was moved to the side. In the center of the room stood two brown recline chairs.

“That’s mean Akashi! And don’t sit there, that’s Kuro’s. Sit in mine.” Bokuto gestured to the identical chair beside me. But they both look the same… why does it matter? I didn’t bother speaking my question out loud. Instead, I moved.

My back pushed against the soft cushion of the chair. It made me sigh subconsciously, “well we haven’t known each other for that long.” I said in a whisper. I couldn’t speak those words louder than that. Every time I think about me and Bokuto’s current situation, I grow an aching pain in my stomach.

It felt as if I was using him for my own benefit. So I would feel less anxious than usual. Bokuto calms my nerves without any effort. His warmth and presence are all it takes, maybe that’s why it’s so hard to let go of him again.

“Did you say something Akashi?” Bokuto questioned, turning his head towards me. My eyes looked up to meet his large smile, “no, nothing at all Bokuto.” I tried to give the man a smile, but my face stayed straight. Looks like the guilt from all those years ago is starting to take effect.

“Well, in order to make the thing I want to make, we need a few items.” Bokuto stated while walking towards me.

I sighed, “you don’t have to cook if you don’t want to-“

“I want to.” Bokuto interrupted. His bright eyes looked down at my dark ones. They held a sense of determination, which meant there was no use in trying to change his mind. “Would you like me to come with you?” My offer made those golden eyes sparkle. “Yes!”

Bokuto grabbed his jacket as we both left the apartment. My hands tucked into my dark jeans while Bokuto hummed to himself. It was silent except for Bokuto’s humming. The silence was calming and peaceful, it made me comfortable.

A bell jingled when Bokuto opened the front door to the convenience store. The store was bright with only a few other people crowded inside it. The girl at the cash-register looked up to see who came inside. Her eyes widened a bit when they met mine.

Why is she looking at me like that?-

“Akashi can you get some heavy cream? I can get everything else.” Bokuto’s voice shook my thoughts. I gave the gray-haired man a nod before walking around the store. Her eyes stayed on me with each step I took. The stare made me uneasy.

I don’t like people paying attention to me, it has always caused me anxiety. My breathing grew ragged as a lump formed in my throat. I turned the corner to hide in one of the empty isles. For some reason, that one stare made me panic.

Sliding down to the ground, I tried to calm myself. “It’s just one person, it’s just one person.” I whispered, gripping my forearm with closed eyes. An image from my past passed through my mind, making me bite my lip.

“Akashi?” Even with my eyes shut, I knew Bokuto was kneeling beside me. I kept my eyes closed while his golden orbs scanned my body. “Are you cold? Hurt? What’s wrong?” Bokuto asked as he placed his hand on my shoulder.

The touch made me flinch, “it’s nothing.” I squeezed out. Bokuto’s hand let go of my shoulder. I thought he was going to leave me alone, but I was wrong. The gray-haired man grunted as he took a seat next to me.

His shoulder pressed against mine, erasing any space between us. A sigh escaped his lips, “you don’t like attention.” The statement came as a shock to me. How did he know that? Has Bokuto been… observing me? He has only known me for two weeks, well that he knows of.

I peeked up to look at Bokuto. For once his face was neutral and his eyes were only focused on me. “Yes… I mean no? How did you know?” My voice was quiet for only Bokuto to hear.

“You give hints from time to time. Like when the teacher looks at you, you often squirm and look disgruntled in your seat. Or when we walk to school, when someone looks at you, you freeze up and hide behind me.” Bokuto started to chuckle at the thought. “You’re very adorable Akashi.”

My face warmed as my heart rate quickened. I didn’t try to say anything, knowing it would come out as slurred letters. Bokuto looked at my red face and gave me a small smile, “are you still nervous?”

“Did you only say that so I wouldn’t be?” I mumbled.

Bokuto’s grin grew, “nope.” He stood up and dusted off his pants. I watched as the gray-haired man stuck out his hand, “let’s go, Akashi.” His smile was as bright as the sun, I could never smile like that.

I took his hand and followed behind Bokuto. It has always been like this, me hiding behind Bokuto as if I was his shadow. When we were little, a lot of kids hated him for that reason. Bokuto didn’t make many friends because of his large presence. The other kids would say Bokuto hogs the spotlight. I never believed that to be true.

Being Bokuto’s shadow has never been easy. It means I have to help him stay in the spotlight. Whether it’s grades or motivation. When we were younger, Bokuto would often get discouraged and not want to try. I was the only person who could motivate him to try again.

Now, times have changed. Now Bokuto is motivating me to move, even as his shadow.

Bokuto put down his items in front of the female cashier. The woman tilted her head to look at me, noticing how I was hiding from her. “We would like to buy these.” Bokuto stated. He had on his normal smile, but his voice was lower than usual.

The woman snapped out of her thoughts and nodded to Bokuto. She scanned the food in front of her, taking a few glances at me as she did. I kept my eyes on the back of Bokuto’s head, “when did you learn how to cook?”

Bokuto tilted his face towards me, “well when I was young. My sisters made me, so it wasn’t my choice.” Bokuto laughed.

I almost forgot about Bokuto’s siblings. He as two older siblings, making Bokuto the baby of the family. Bokuto is the only man in the house since his father passed away when he was young.

“Can we talk about them during dinner?” I asked, keeping my focus on my long-lost best friend. Bokuto blinked a few times, “of course!”

The woman handed Bokuto two bags, “H-have a nice day!” The woman shouted as we left the store.

I sighed in relief once we left, which Bokuto picked up on. “You know she was only looking at you because she was interested in you, right?” His comment caught me off guard. My head shifted to meet his eyes, but Bokuto stayed looking ahead. His lips were pressed into a straight line as his golden eyes lingered on the stranger in front of him.

“W-what do you mean?” I question with a hint of nervousness.

“I mean you’re beautiful Akashi.” Bokuto tilted his head and looked at me. “And everyone knows it.”

The rest of the walk was silent. I was torn between blushing from Bokuto statement or over analyzing it. So, I did both in silence. My whole body felt so awkward, especially my face. It was warm and stung with embarrassment.

Everyone? What does he mean by everyone? I wasn’t aware of this! Does that mean… Bokuto think so too? Does Bokuto think I’m beautiful?

As a child I developed feelings for Bokuto, and I can tell that they were coming back. When we were younger, Bokuto felt the same way. It was adorable puppy love. But now, is different.

When we stepped inside the apartment, Bokuto began to cook. I watched as the man focused on what ingredients go where. He smiled at me when he realized I was staring, “My sisters love this dish. Though it is not the healthiest.” Bokuto said, making the plates.

He placed the bowl down in front of me. Steam rose in the air as the smell of fresh chicken filled my nose. The noodles looked creamy and well done, the sight almost made me drool. “Fettuccine Alfredo.” The words made my stomach growl as I uttered them.

Bokuto chuckled, “eat up!”

Both of us ate and Bokuto talked. He talked about both his sisters, Ai who is the eldest, and Megumin who is the second eldest. He talked about how scary Ai can be and how energetic Megumin can be. I have heard most of this information before, but I paid attention to every detail.

“Ai and Megumin have super important jobs!” Bokuto exclaimed with a proud grin.

“And what would those be?” I asked while putting my plates in the sink.

“Well they both work in law enforcement.” Bokuto answered. He trotted around his kitchen to put his dish away. I started washing the dishes as he continued. “They may or may not be in the FBI.”

“Oh, that’s interesting.”

“I said may not.”

“Yes, yes may not.” I nodded along.

“but they are!” Bokuto exclaimed. I could tell he is proud of his sisters and looks up to them. I found it cute.

After another half hour of talking, Bokuto walked me home. He talked more about his siblings, and I listened along. When we got to my apartment, Bokuto switched the subject. “I had fun Akashi, thank you for helping me study.” I wanted to mention that we didn’t do much studying, but Bokuto spoke again. “I know I can be a pain at times, and I don’t pay much attention.-“

“I had fun.” Bokuto froze from my words. He then grew wide eyed from my smile, “let’s do this again tomorrow, Bokuto.”

The gray-haired man stayed quiet and speechless. I bowed a bit before going inside my apartment and slowly closing the door.

Third pov

Bokuto walked back home, still slightly shocked from Akashi’s words. He had fun? Sometimes it’s hard to tell what Akashi is thinking and feeling. Often, Bokuto feels as if he annoys Akashi. But his smile, it was genuine.

It was not just Akashi’s words, but the rare smile that played on his lips when he said it. It made Bokuto freeze up without any warning.

He let the image dance around in his mind, making his own smile grow. When he walked into his apartment, he was greeted by a very familiar face. “Oh, hey Kuro.” Bokuto waved before placing his keys on the counter.

Kuro picked up his head with left over noodles hanging from his mouth. “Hey bro.” Kuro said, slurping up the noodles.

“How was Kenma’s?” Bokuto smirked, taking a seat in his reclining chair. Kuro rolled his eyes and continued eating his noodles. Once he swallowed, he spoke, “how was your date?”

Bokuto puffed out his cheeks, “it was not a date.” He claimed, crossing his arms over his chest. Once again Kuro rolled his eyes, “Kenma told me you’d say that.”

“What else did Kenma say to you?” Bokuto’s playful smirk appeared again as he patted his friend’s shoulder. Bokuto has been friends with Kuro since his first year of middle school. That is when his volleyball accident happened. “Nothing that concerns you.” Kuro bit back. He does not like where this conversation was going, so he switched the subject.

“What did you two do while I was gone? I hope nothing too messy.” Kuro observed the blush blooming on Bokuto’s cheeks with a smile. “Dirty minded as always.” The best friend shook his head in fake disappointment.

“I am not dirty minded! We just studied, maybe you should start.” Bokuto pouted.

Kuro put his hand over his heart and gasped, “I study!” Bokuto laughed at the statement, which made Kuro laugh as well. “So… what’s his name?” Kuro placed his plate on the ground and put all his attention on his best friend.

“His name is Akashi!” Bokuto said proudly. Kuro’s lips parted, but no words came out. His face stayed neutral as a lump formed in his throat. “How long have you known him?”

“A few weeks but we have grown close! He might take your spot as my best friend!” Bokuto laughed. Kuro didn’t laugh though, he looked away from Bokuto and gave a bitter smile. “Yeah well, you never know.”

All these chapters can be found on Wattpad under the user zayinmorzin

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

More Than Words (Four)

This chapter turned out different than I planned, but if there’s one thing I learned, it’s to let stories do whatever they want because Free Range Plots are much more fun to read than plotted, planned and outlined ones.

Note: while this story isn’t actually D/s, I have given ‘subspace’ a MTW/ABO twist and I sort of love it. Hope everyone else does too!

Also, I love snarky Hank Pym so much omg his character in the Ant Man movies was amazing.

MTW MASTERLIST HERE

*******************

Hank Pym had an entire list of people he never wanted to see knocking at his front door.

Tony Stark topped the list, Tony Stark’s uncomfortably intimidating assistant Pepper Potts was a close second. Norman Osborn wasn’t even allowed within a hundred yards of the property-- or was it that Hank wasn’t allowed within a hundred yards of Norman Osborn? Restraining orders between old men fighting over physics were so complicated-- and even though Scott Lang was well on his way to becoming part of the family, Hank didn’t particularly want to see him at three in the morning either.

The very last person Hank was expecting to see on the other side of his door was the mutant cyborg Cable, and though he would happily die before admitting he screamed when that metallic yellow eye zeroed in on him---

“Shit!” Hank tried to slam the door right in Cable’s face, shrieked a little when metal fingers grasped around the edges and pried it back open, and then shrieked a little louder when the heavy door came right off its hinges as Cable barreled inside.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Hank swept a shock of silver hair away from his eyes and puffed out his chest, folding his arms and rocking up onto his toes and doing everything possible to appear bigger than his several inches shorter than the Alpha. “You can’t just run in here like you own the place! Who the hell do you think you are!?”

“You know who I am.” Cable didn’t bother hiding his smirk over Hank’s floor length striped robe and color coordinated slippers. “Nice jammies.”

“I’m insisting I don’t know who you are, so when I’m taken to court for whatever mayhem you’re about to unleash on Manhattan, I can truthfully say I had no prior notice of your bullshit.” the Beta retorted. “Get out. Your kind isn’t welcome here.”

“My kind.” Cable dumped his utility bag out onto the nearest surface and rifled through the assorted items. “Pretty bold words coming from someone who’s future son in law has a standing appointment at the local prison.”

“Scott’s a good kid, he’s just a dumbass.” Hank defended. “And by your kind I meant you, specifically. You, Cable, are not welcome here. The last time you ended up in my neighborhood you tried to steal my tech and destroy my gardenias. You need to leave. Take that bionic arm and creepy eye and your fanny pack and get out.”

“It’s a utility bag.” Cable held a computer chip up towards the genius. “And I’m not going to apologize for your gardenias. They weren’t prize winning no matter what the old lady across the street told you. Are you going to help me or what?”

“It’s absolutely a fanny pack and no, I won’t be helping you.” the Beta inched forward a step, eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “What is that? Why is it glowing gold?”

“I thought you weren’t going to help me.” Cable taunted, holding the chip away when Hank reached for it. “Or did you change your mind?”

“I’m not going to help you.” With a quickness that belied his nearly eighty years, Hank grabbed at a small remote and pressed the button. There was a whir and a pulse, and Cable’s left arm dropped limp and useless, the chip falling from his fingers.

“Gotcha.” Hank darted forward and grabbed it, ducking back out of the way as the robotic pieces of Cable’s body came back on line. “You like that? Pocket sized EMP. I know that shiny shit up your neck is more techno organic than mechanical, but an EMP will stun anything for a few seconds.”

“Congratulations.” Cable said flatly. “You stunned me for a few seconds and got your hands on the computer chip. What now?”

“Now you can leave.” Hank flipped on a lamp and studied the piece under brighter light. “But before you go, tell me what this is?”

“It is part of the computer that controls my time travel device.” the Alpha admitted, and Hank’s eyes widened in excitement. “It’s all I have left, actually. A back up to my main piece. My device was...taken… and now I need to build a new one.”

“The mighty time traveling Cable stuck in the year twenty nineteen?” Hank whistled in mock sympathy. “Got your fancy time traveling gadget stolen, huh? Who took it from you?”

“That doesn’t matter.” Irritation blanketed Cable’s scent, but Hank Pym was a Beta and gave exactly zero fucks what an Alpha scented like. “You need to help me build another one.”

“Oh-ho, I think I do not.” Hank ran a curious finger over the glowing chip. “Why does it light up like this? Is it like the glow of my Pym particles?”

“Pym particles.” Cable rolled his eyes. “You’re a few years ahead of this timeline’s science and think you can just name sub atomic particles after yourself. You know what we call them in my timeline?” Hank’s eyes narrowed and Cable finished bluntly, “Trash. Pym particles are trash because we’ve moved beyond them. Now are you going to help or not?”

“Right.” Hank turned the chip over a few times. “Remind me why I’d help you now that you’ve thoroughly insulted my life’s work?”

“Because you’re desperate to know how time travel works.” The Alpha unfolded a piece of paper and handed it to the scientist. “And because you’re so damn curious you’re gonna throw me out tonight, then fuss and fidget for a few days, and then call me and act huffy about helping. How about we skip all of that and you just help me now?”

The muscle in the Beta’s jaw jumped as Hank ground his teeth together and glowered, but finally he snatched the list from Cable and read through it, muttering under his breath the entire time.

And finally, “I have most of this on hand. A couple items will take me a week to get my hands on but some of these?” he shook his head. “Cable, I don’t know what’s just laying around on grocery store shelves in your timeline, but these sort of things are locked up tight in all the places the government swears they aren’t stockpiling weapons of mass destruction and doomsday devices. I can’t just waltz in the front door, have a cashier ring me up, and then waltz back out with this in a paper bag.”

“You tell me where to find it, I’ll get in and grab it.” Cable maintained. “You get me the rest. Then I’ll need your lab for the finer work.”

“No no no, you aren’t listening to me.” Hank stabbed his finger at the list. “Even if I called in a few favors and managed to get my hands on it, those phone calls would end with me being tossed down a dark hole and probably charged with war crimes and consorting with terrorists. No. No, I’m not doing it.”

“Hank--”

“How do you lose a time travel device anyway!” Agitated now, the Beta crumpled the list up and tossed it back at Cable. “Don’t you have a spare?”

“I have the one.” Cable said in frustration. “I have charges for it and enough pieces to make minor repairs, but it’s gone and now I have to build a rudimentary piece from scratch to get back to my timeline and retrieve a newer one to return to the past!”

“Why the past!” Hank threw up his hands. “Why does it matter? Why did you pound on my door at three in the morning to ask me something imposs--”

“It’s a kid.” Cable cut in, and Hank’s mouth shut with an audible click. “He’s just a kid, twenty something years old, scrappy little Omega is all. He ended up activating the device without meaning to and now he and the dial are gone. I need a new one so I can go and get him back.”

“So you know where he is.”

“I know exactly where he is.” Cable nodded. “I had the dial pre set to a specific year, just gotta jump back and drag him back before it’s too late.”

“...what’s too late?” Hank swallowed and took the list again, scanning through it a second time. “When will it be too late?”

“Don’t worry about that.” the Alpha waved the question off. “How soon can you have this all for me?”

“It will take a few months.” Hank felt around for a pen and started making calculations. “Most of the pieces are easy to get, assembling them into such a delicate device is completely different. The more difficult items will take several weeks to get in, I’ll have to treat the wires, build a circuit board, all that sort of thing. And the more impossible things could take months if I can get them at all.”

“You have ninety days.” Cable said flatly and Hank gaped at him.

“Were you listening to what I said? It could a month and a half just to track down some of these, and the rest I’ll have to call in favors for, sell my soul and probably sign over Hope’s first born child! I can’t do it in--”

“You have ninety days.” the mutant said again. “I have to get that kid and get him back within ninety days.”

“What happens in ninety days?” Hank held up a hand stubbornly when Cable tried to argue. “No, you need to tell me. What happens in ninety days if I can’t get all this material?”

Cable swallowed, guilt laying heavy over his shoulders. “When a human is placed into a timeline other than their own, their body stops working. Blood cells stop regenerating, wounds won’t heal, a cold could actually kill them because their immune system can’t rally. Anything other than their basic functions grinds to a halt. Sometimes mental stability is affected, other times it eats away at them visibly-- hair falling out, loss of hearing, severe eczema, all of that.”

“What?”

“This is a virus.” Cable tapped at the metal leeched into his neck. “I’m not a cyborg, I’m not a robot. I’m sick. I don’t belong in the future timeline, I was sent there as a child and was infected with this virus. Every time I use my device it takes over my body a little bit more until one day there won’t be anything of me left. But I’m mutant, so it's a slower progression. On a human, it won’t be slow at all.”

“Ninety days.” Hank stared stunned, the color draining from his face. “Red blood cells only last about a hundred and fifteen days before our body breaks them down, is that why it’s ninety days? Anything past that and his body starts to shut down entirely?”

“If he gets a bad cut, he’ll die because his body isn’t making anything new to replace what’s lost.” Cable stated. “If he gets a cold, it will turn into fatal pneumonia within a matter of days. A fever could end him by sun down, an allergic reaction could kill him within minutes. This is life or death, Hank. Are you going to help me or not?”

“Ninety days.” the Beta looked back down at the list. “I can get this in ninety days. Maybe even sooner.”

“Maybe make it sooner.” Cable grunted. “You let me know how I can help. And Hank?”

Hank looked up and Cable offered him a half smile. “Thank you.”

The mutant was out of the house and gone a moment later, leaving Hank holding the paper and the computer chip as the cold night air wound in through the broken door.

“Prick.” he muttered to no one in particular. “I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing it for the kid.” and then quieter, “And because I am dying to know how time travel works.”

“Ninety days. I can do this.”

***************

Peter hummed to himself as he gathered eggs, shooing the chickens away from their nests and tucking the eggs in the pocket of his hoodie. He’d never put even a split second of thought into where his breakfast came from but apparently chickens only lay one egg a day which meant his favorite brunch meal of three egg omelets was the combined effort of three different chickens and that-- that just didn’t seem right.

Looking down at the five meager eggs, Peter made a silent vow to never eat more than two at a time anymore, especially since Wade more than likely ate all five and was giving up part of his breakfast for Peter.

“You look awfully stressed out for having tussled with chickens.” Wade flashed his fangs in a teasing grin when Peter made it back inside. “Figured after three days the birds would stop giving you grief. Which one did you poke in the butt?”

“I didn’t poke anyone in the butt.” Peter huffed, and the Alpha’s smile stretched wider. “It’s just um--”

“Just what?” Wade could fit all five eggs in his big palm without even stretching, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by Peter, even though he didn’t let himself linger too long on the fact that Wade had big feet too. We all know what that means. “What’s on your mind, Pete?”

“Um, it’s stupid.” Peter grabbed at his notebook and jotted down a few lines. “I just never put any thought into where my food came from or how much effort goes into making it.”

“...it takes two minutes to collect eggs, Pete.”

“No.” Peter shook his head. “No I mean. Chickens only lay one egg a day.” Wade blinked at him and Peter gestured vaguely. “My normal breakfast is the work of three chickens, a cow or goat, and someone who has to plant and harvest vegetables!”

“Yeah.” Wade cracked the eggs into a pan. “And?”

“And.” Peter emphasized. “I just go to the grocery store and buy a dozen eggs, a quart of milk and grab a tomato on my way up to the register. I never put any thought into how much effort goes into food. It’s about enough to turn someone vegan.”

“And vegan means…”

“I won’t eat any product that comes from an animal.” Peter stared down at his cup of milk. “Even though I feel like that barely works in my time where I can buy basically anything at the store, I’ll definitely starve to death here if I have to live on pine cones or something.”

“Yeah it’d be a real shame if you starved to death.” The Alpha stirred at their breakfast for a minute and then dropped a slab of meat into a frying pan. “I got five chickens because I usually eat five eggs and then I butcher them in the hard parts of winter so they don’t freeze and so I have fresh meat. I keep a goat for the milk and two horses to help haul the wagon. It’s not like I’m over hunting deer for the sport of it or keeping so many chickens I just end up attracting coyotes and mountain lions. If I don’t eat--”

“No.” Peter held up his hand to quiet Wade. “No, I’m not saying you’re wrong for needing to hunt or anything. I’m just saying that the-- wow the sheer amount of eggs and meat and milk that people in my timeline go through and now that I know a chicken only lays one egg a day it’s just… It’s sort of awful.”

“Well it’s a good thing you’re here now.” Wade turned the meat over and raised his eyebrows at Peter. “Right? Because it’s not awful.”

“It’s decidedly not awful.” Peter agreed, a faint blush climbing his cheeks when the Alpha rumbled at him softly. “And thank you for breakfast. I promise I can actually cook though, so maybe tomorrow morning you let me try?”

Tomorrow morning. The words came so easily, the assumption and acceptance that Peter would be there another day something that made both Alpha and Omega smile.

Four days had come and gone since Logan’s visit, and every day Peter woke up a little more rested, a little more peaceful.

He followed Wade along with chores and helped where he could, spent long hours exploring the surrounding forest while Wade worked on the cabin or chopped wood, and at evening they ate dinner together, talking quietly about the day and sharing increasingly warm smiles. Peter would write down all the new things he learned, Wade would patiently try to answer a litany of questions and Peter would exclaim in delight every time he figured out an answer before Wade could tell him.

Every night Wade motioned Peter towards the bed and Peter would put up a fuss about how Wade should be sleeping in the bed. The Alpha would growl a little and demand, Peter would huff and turn his nose up but inevitably, he would snuggle down into heavy blankets and Wade would watch protectively until the Omega slipped away into dreams.

It was the easiest thing in the world to move around each other, to move with each other, to laugh and talk and find conversation and for the first time in years Peter asked questions without urgency, wanted to know without feeling like he might explode if he didn’t, he was learning without painfully, desperately searching.

Wade’s scent wrapped safe around him at night, the cabin air saturated with contentment, and even though neither Peter nor Wade had re- introduced the topic of their scents matching or how they knew each other, there wasn’t really words for what they felt anyway.

The knowing was more than words, it was more than what Peter had read about in romance novels, more than what science could explain away, the sort of comfort and security that settled soul deep despite knowing Cable could return any minute and take him away.

They weren’t ready to think about that though, not about Cable and not about saying goodbye when they were still just barely skating along the surface of the bond sparking between their souls.

No, Peter was more than willing to put Cable out of his mind for right now and focus on learning everything he could about Wade’s world… and perhaps focusing on pulling as many fanged smiles from the Alpha as he could.

And it was this focus that led directly to Peter deciding he wanted to help Wade out more by taking on another chore, which in turn led directly to the Omega staring down a goat and immediately wondering if he’d made a mistake.

Offering to clean the cabin would have been a better idea.

“Alright Goat.” Peter eyed the beast warily, bucket clutched in one hand, a chunk of dandelions held in the other. “You got milk, I need the milk, are you gonna be cool about this or what?”

The goat bleated and stamped it’s little hoof.

“What was that?” Peter asked suspiciously. “Was that a yes? Are you saying yes? Gonna give it up for some dandelions?”

Wade was busy working tangles from Bea’s mane so he didn’t witness the head butting but he definitely heard the Omega squawk in outrage, heard the goat bellow in triumph, and when Peter came out of the barn spitting both hay and curses, Wade turned back to the roan so his laughter wasn’t quite so obvious.

“I can hear you.” Peter snapped and Wade tried even harder to muffle it. “That Billy goat knocked me right over! Does it do that to you?”

“First of all,” Wade smoothed his fingers through Bea’s mane and patted the mare on the neck to shoo her on. “That’s a nanny goat, not a billy goat. Billy goats are boys, nanny goats give milk. What did you think you were tugging on down there to get white stuff to shoot out?”

Peter's jaw dropped, his perfect lips opening in an shocked ‘oh’ at Wade’s phrasing. “I— um— I mean I wasn’t—“ Wade waited until he finished lamely. “I wasn’t tugging. Not yet anyway. I got head butted before I could try.”

“Fair enough.” Wade’s scent colored amused and the Omega turned bright red. “C’mon, get your bucket and I’ll show you. Come on.”

Peter grumbled under his breath as he followed Wade back into the barn, but he still dragged the stool over and paid close attention as Wade led the goat back over and tethered her to a short post, putting a pile of food in front of the animal to keep her distracted.

“See this? Milking post. Keeps her from running.” Wade smoothed his hands down the goat’s back and patted her rump. “Make sure she knows where you are, talk to her a little. She might be an animal but that doesn’t mean she likes being yanked on any more than a person would, you know? Easy and steady, firm but not painful. Look.”

Peter watched in fascination as milk hit the bucket in steady streams, Wade making the motions with no visible effort at all. “It doesn’t hurt her?”

“It’s more of a relief.” Wade trilled at the goat when she balked away from Peter. “She had kids this past spring so she’s pretty full of milk still. When we go to town, I’ll get her bred up with one of the town billies so her production stays up. There will be a few months in the spring where we don’t have milk cos she’s nursing but otherwise she puts out all year.”

“Is she acting weird around me because I’m new?” Peter picked up the nearly trampled dandelions and offered them to the goat again. “Or am I doing something wrong?”

“You smell off.” Wade eased off the goat and got up from the stool, motioning for Peter to take his place. “Humans don’t like the scent of mutants because we scent wild. Animals like our scent just fine. S’why the wolf pups follow Logan. They recognize the wild in him.”

“You don’t smell weird to me.” Peter settled onto the stool and petted at the animal awkwardly. “I think you smell good.”

“Yeah well,” Wade cleared his throat, swallowing back a burble of happiness. “That’s because if you told me I stunk, I’d kick you out and make you fend for yourself.”

“You’re right, that’s exactly what it is.” Peter wrinkled his nose teasingly, then put cautious hands on the goat. “Is this right? It doesn’t feel right. In fact it feels a little… ick.”

“You’re basically right.” Wade crouched behind the Omega, big arms circling Peter's lean frame so he could cover Peter's hands with his own and better direct each motion. “Feel that? A little pressure and it will give, and then right here where you meet some resistance, back off. No no don’t let go.” He recaptured Peters hands. “You let go and she thinks you’re done. Always hands on.”

“How do I know when she’s empty?” Peter’s brow furrowed in concentration. “Do I keep going until she’s all the way dry or stop before then?”

“You’ll feel when she’s about done, but you do wanna get her empty.” Wade let Peter take over the milking again, but didn’t move from behind the Omega. “Leave too much and her body thinks she doesn’t need to produce and then we end up with no milk at all. And having a full udder for too long can give her an infection.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded, eyes trained on the bucket and the stream of milk. “We do this twice a day?”

“Twice a day, and once you get comfortable it shouldn’t take you more than five or six minutes.” Wade confirmed. “Think you can handle it?”

“I think it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you watched me a few times to make sure I’m not hurting her.” Peter clicked at the goat when she shifted uncertainly. “Would you mind?”

Wade would certainly not mind sitting here twice a day with Peter cradled between his thighs, the Omega’s thick hair in his nose and back fit to his chest. Peter hadn’t seemed to notice yet that Wade was practically hugging him, that all he’d have to do was turn his head and their lips would meet, or scoot back a few inches to plaster their bodies together.

He was so close and here in the barn the Omega’s honeysuckle scent mixed with sun warmed hay, lavender underscoring the earthier tones of animal and it would have been so easy for Wade to shift forward and bury his nose in Peter’s hair, to inhale deep and get scent drunk right then and there.

Tempting.

“‘Course I don't mind helping.” Wade tried for teasing but it fell flat as his entire body tightened with a surge of longing . “Last thing I need is you pissing off the goat and her giving me spoiled milk, right?”

“Ugh. Right.” Peter laughed quietly. “You’d kick me out for sure then, wouldn't you?”

“Without even hesitating.” Wade said immediately and Peter laughed again.

There really was something sort of relaxing about this particular chore. Sunlight was streaming bright through the open barn doors and settling warm over their shoulders. The goat was calm and the steady crunch of it eating was oddly comforting. Peter could hear Bea and Arthur stamping around in the yard and their soft nickers and neighs as they talked to each other, and beyond that was the sound of birds in the trees and the whistle of autumn wind through branches.

Wade was set right behind him, the Alpha solid and steady, soothing and dependable, dark licorice scent like caramel flowing thick through Peter’s veins, the cedar bringing to mind long summer days and lazy naps in the sunshine.

Not that he needed a nap, no Peter had slept better in Wade’s bed the last several nights than he had in months. The mattress was barely comfortable but somehow Peter sank right into it and passed out almost immediately. Dreams that had been almost nightmares before were now nothing more than vague impressions of calm and home and even though waking up to a cold cabin wasn’t easy, it was wonderful to sit up and stretch and watch Wade’s eyes light red and possessive for just a split second before the Alpha got himself under control again.

Never once had Peter thought to want an Alpha outside his heat, but oh he wanted Wade and the sudden shift made his fingers tremble, his heart pound.

“Easy. Let up now.” The Alpha’s deep voice was low and smooth in Peter’s ear, breaking into his thoughts and pulling him back to the moment. “She’s all done, Pete. Don’t want to stress her out.”

“Hm?” Peter blinked a few times, lethargic and lazy and not wanting to break the hazy spell that had fallen over them. “Oh. Oh sorry. Is she okay?”

The goat bleated at Peter in annoyance and side stepped away, so Wade reached with one hand to undo her tether and send her out into the yard, then murmured, “It’s alright. You didn’t hurt her.” and pressed at Peter’s side gently, before spreading his fingers out over the Omega’s stomach so Peter wouldn’t move away quite yet. “Are you okay? Seems like I lost you there for a minute.”

“Yeah, I just sort of--” Peter’s mouth felt dry, his tongue thick and head fuzzy and he closed his eyes to the pull of slumber. “--just sort of floated away. I dunno what happened.”

“Floated away…” Wade hesitated. “...in a bad way?”

“Mmmm, no.” he hummed a little and turned in Wade’s arms, tucking his nose into the Alpha’s neck and parting his lips to take a slow breath in. “No, I got tired all the sudden and I feel… spacey. Sorry.”

“Christ.” Wade slipped his hand over Peter’s stomach and around to the side, holding the Omega tight to his chest and shuddering when Peter only sighed and settled firmer into his shoulder. “No, don’t apologize. This is-- this is fine. I’ve got you. Just… just keep floatin’ Pete. I’ve got you.”

Peter’s smile was soft and secret, fingers clutched into Wade’s shirt and frame limp and trusting and the Alpha whispered, “Stay right here.”

It had been so long since Vanessa had passed that Wade had forgotten about this, forgotten about the way two bodies could yearn and linger and the way one partner could fall into a lazy sort of euphoria just because there was nothing better than being held safe in the others arms.

Vanessa had been an Alpha, so these sort of moments had been few and far between but Wade remembered slow nights watching the fire as she drew mindless patterns on his chest and how he’d slipped deeper and deeper under until he could have sworn the stars were shining bright right there in their cabin. He remembered Vanessa wearing nothing more than his shirt, fangs glinting as she laughed, all her edges softened and blurred as he brushed her hair or whispered sweet things into her skin as she tumbled into brilliant nothingness where the only thing that mattered was the pressure of his fingers and the rumble of his voice.

And now Peter was tipping over the edge with nothing more than sunshine and Wade holding him close. He was gorgeous, breath taking even, and it was all Wade could do not to gather the Omega up and carry him to the cabin and lay claim to him properly.

But it wasn’t the right time, it may never be the right time, not when their realities were so far separated and not when Cable was bound to return and take Peter away.

It wasn’t the right time and the thought made Wade’s blood rush hot, his fangs aching as the instinct to claim now before it was too late flashed through his core. His scent roiled sharp, fingers gripping too tight, and the change had Peter shifting against him, the Omega’s perfectly pert nose wrinkling in distress.

“No no no, no distress.” Wade tried to calm his scent, to loosen his hold. “Easy Omega, little Omega, it’s alright. Settle down.”

“Mmm.” Peter hummed and stilled again, and Wade ignored the burn in his thighs from crouching so long, the ache in his back from being bent into such a weird position, and mentally willed the Omega to stay.

Please stay.

Please don’t leave me.

They sat together for a while, and would have sat together long enough for Wade’s legs to go entirely numb if the goat hadn’t interrupted the quiet moment with an aggressively annoyed noise from outside. Wade’s heart twisted when Peter’s eyes opened wide in surprise, and then shuttered in shyness, his cheeks stained red as he peeked up from beneath his lashes.

“We probably have more chores to do?” he whispered, and Wade whispered back, “I can do them, why don’t you go rest?”

“I’m not tired anymore.” Peter denied, but the stretch and wriggle and sleepy sigh he gave said something different. Need punched Wade straight through the stomach as the Omega’s shirt rode up to expose perfect skin, Peter’s satisfied moan as he came back to himself enough to have the Alpha biting his tongue until it bled. “Okay, maybe just a short nap.”

“That’s fine.” Wade managed. “You need help back to the cabin?”

“I’m pretty sure I can walk.” Peter teased him, but standing on wobbly legs was more difficult than he imagined, and he pitched forward a little, catching himself on Wade’s shoulders. “Wow. Sorry. Seriously, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“It’s fine.” Wade ran gentle hands up Peter’s long legs to settle at his waist, holding the Omega steady. “It’s-- shit, Pete. This is fine. How are you feeling? Still floaty?”

“Feel like I’m coming back around now.” From this angle Peter was staring right down at the Alpha, rubbing his thumbs over Wade’s collarbone and the scars at the base of his neck. His eyes were lit with curiosity but not disgust, maybe even affection and Wade held his breath and waited for the inevitable questions---

“Does this hurt?” Peter asked softly and that-- that wasn’t what Wade had been expecting at all.

“What?”

“Does it hurt when I touch you?” Peter clarified. “If I touch you here?” his fingers slid under the shirt collar just a bare inch, and Wade felt the touch like a brand at his soul. God, how long had it been since anyone had touched him like this? “Do the scars hurt?”

“No.” Wade shook his head, his scent filtering thankful when Peter flattened his palms to touch more skin. “Not anymore. They only hurt when I get a new one, but once they fade, I don’t notice anymore. Looks worse than it feels.”

“When you get a new one.” Peter swept his fingers up along Wade’s neck, trilling sweetly when the Alpha tipped his head into his palm. “How often do you get a new one?”

“...one part of my mutation is that I heal.” Wade explained slowly. “I heal from everything. But the scars never go away. Every cut, every broken bone, every scrape stays on my skin forever. The older I get the worse it becomes.”

“How old are you?” Gentle so gentle over Wade’s bare scalp, a soft hush when Wade shuddered. “How long have you been collecting scars? Logan said he fought in all the wars with you, what does that mean? How old are you?”

Wade hesitated, wet his lips and steeled himself for shock and rejection before finally admitting, “Logan and I met during the war of 1812. I’d recently lost my mate Vanessa and when war broke out I went and lost myself in the fighting. Men like Logan and I-- you find each other when you’re the only ones walking off a battlefield full of dead men.”

“1812.” Peter repeated, and unbelievably, his beautiful mouth tipped up in a smile. “That’s amazing. So you-- you’re a hundred years old? Older?”

“I’m not sure of my exact birthday.” Wade swallowed, pressed at Peter's waist coaxingly. “You’re not going to ask about Vanessa?”

“I’m so sorry you had to lose her.” Peter inched closer, lips parting over a shaky sigh when Wade’s hold tightened. “She was your first mate? Have you-- have you had one since?”

Just you. “...no.” Wade shook his head. “I never thought I’d get another chance at a scent match and a soul bond.”

“Oh.” Another sigh, this one even more unsteady. “A hundred years you’ve been collecting scars, you’ve bonded and lost her, and now you and I-- um, you and I--” the Omega bit at his lip shyly. “You’re beautiful, Wade. Incredible. I wish I knew all your stories.”

“Stick around.” Wade waggled his eyebrows to break the tension, and obligingly, Peter laughed. “I’ll teach you a thing or two.”

“Plan on it.” Peter finally leaned away, clearing his throat and blinking the last of the daze from his eyes. “Chores?”

“I thought you were going to take a nap.” Wade stood gingerly, stretching his sore muscles until the hurt bled away. “Go lay down, Omega. I’ll wake you in time for dinner.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Wade jerked his head towards the cabin, then turned away so he wouldn’t be tempted to follow Peter to bed. “Go on. See you tonight.”

*************

It wasn’t easy for Peter to wake up in a cold cabin, or stumble from the bed to splash ice water on his face to help with chores, but it was easy to look up with a smile for the Alpha when Wade offered him a cup of too strong coffee to help him face the day.

It wasn’t easy to learn how to milk the goat, or to dry his clothes when Peter inevitably knocked the milk bucket over, or to keep the goat tethered tight enough to not move too far but not so tight that the ornery thing yelled at him the entire time.

But oh it was easy to blush when Wade looked up and caught Peter shirtless as he tried to wring out the wet, the Alpha’s eyes lighting red and scent charging eager for a few breathless seconds.

And it really wasn’t easy to force himself to eat red meat, but this life required more energy than Peter was used to. He couldn’t survive on beans, eggs and bread forever, so he sat down for dinner each night and ate tiny bites so his stomach wouldn’t hurt.

It wasn’t easy, but it was so very easy to trill sweetly when Wade tried so hard to pile mushrooms and wild carrots on the plate along with nuts and berries he found around the property.

“I thought you said I had to find my own salad.” Peter teased one night as Wade produced an entire bowl of gathered greens. “Are you a gatherer now, Wade?”

“It took you so long to milk the goat, I figured I should help you out with the salad thing.” Wade deadpanned, and Peter laughed at him, clear and cheerful and the Alpha only rumbled in response, closing his eyes to inhale sweet happy Omega scent.

Nothing about this life was easy, but it was so easy to live this life with Wade, Peter found himself forgetting this all had an expiration date.

He could stay here forever.

*****************

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