#or ask to hopefully get my old job at the bakery back (have to deal with the immigration office and former boss) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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Looking for a Place to Happen

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: We’re starting Sam’s installment but this weekend I’ll probably only be catching up on my headcanons and drabbles because I’ve been a lazy bitch and I’m sorry to those who have been waiting.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: I've got a job, I explore

💀💀💀

The sleepy town of Birch was awake.

In those last weeks, the arrival of outsiders had roused the attention of many once passive residents of the timeless territory. Those brick buildings unchanged by the tick of the clock inlaid into the old tower above the library that chimed every hour on the hour. They still stood with only chips in the mortar but the air tasted different. The frost was more bitter and the sky more grim. An omen of something no one could predict.

It was the perfect setting for a screenplay. The isolated town with its unsavoury secrets and the visitors who threatened to bring them to the surface. It was inspiring to you, to imagine what was hidden behind the stern wrinkled faces of the town elders and under the jackets of those men who wore the cut of the local club. The bikers ruled the town covertly but everyone knew that Bucky Barnes’ palm was lined with the map of Birch.

As a bystander, an unnoticed observer, just another ant in the hill, you watched from the side and amused yourself with the drama of others. It was like a soap opera or another HBO hype machine. Those things you aspired to when you could be free of this ho-hum town.

The snows added to the natural gloom of the place. The deep heaps smothered the noise and harkened back to those days of colonial settlement. Forgotten, desolate, fearful.

You ventured down in your heavy boots that stretched to your knees and pushed your chin down into your scarf. As a child, you ran and jumped in those piles, now you were out of breath just trying to walk past them.

You stopped in the bakery that doubled as the only café, a place where the owner, Babs, tried to to intimidate the last caffeinated trends. She was always a few seasons behind but you didn’t mind so much.

You ordered the salted caramel mocha and waited patiently as the quiet woman fought with the steaming machines. She was older than you but you’d work with her for one summer during high school, only five years ago. She had the eyes of a child still, but there was something worn in her. As if she’d been exposed to far too much in her three or so decades in that place. She was a harbinger of what you didn’t want to become.

You thanked her for your drink and set out once more into the billowing winds. Birch winters were never kind but this one was crueler than most. Your teeth chattered as you blew the steam away from the lid and hugged it with your mittened hands.

You stopped short as you heard the familiar ding of the diner door across the street. You recognised the mechanic who kept to herself and once growled at you in the grocery store. She stormed across the street, followed closely and quickly by a black-haired man you’d only seen once before. He was one of those outsiders who came to deal with the club men.

You sped up as you sensed chaos brewing and pulled out your phone as you balanced your paper cup in your other hand. You flicked your camera on just as you got to the front of the shop and the man grabbed the mechanic. You let out an ‘oop’ as she turned on him and you aimed the lens at the couple as they fell into the snow, the man’s shoes giving little traction to his steps.

You moved closer, stunned by the scene, and kept your cell phone rolling as you found a better angle around the snowy walks. As she choked him on the ground he elbowed her and she coughed as she rolled away. She snarled as he clamoured to his feet, slipping and sliding as he marched away.

You killed the recording and watched the man cross the street again, nearly wiping out as he did and when you looked back to the mechanic, she was gone behind the clattering door. You chuckled to yourself and tucked away your cell. It was prime footage for TikTok; with a bit of editing, it would be comedy gold.

💀

You stomped up the steps of your grandmother’s house, this time through the front door as you heard her chair rocking in the front room. You usually took the stairs in the back as you paid her to live on the upper floor of the duplex. You checked in with her daily, she didn’t get out much more than the occasional trip to the grocery store when you couldn’t or you dragged her out to join you for a tea at Babs’.

“You’re late,” she grumbled as you set your cup down and unzipped your coat.

“For what?” you scoffed.

“It’s after noon and you don’t even come down to say hello? A ‘good morning, nan’,” she harrumphed.

You chuckled and hung your coat before shoving your boots over on the mat. You grabbed your mocha and leaned on the doorway as you watched her crocheting in her chair, reruns of some court show playing from the boxy television.

“I was working,” you said, “sent in some stuff for review. Hopefully not much work to be done.”

“I don’t know how you make money on that interweb,” she bemoaned, “I don’t trust it.”

“Maybe you’d trust it more if you used the Netflix subscription I got you,” you crossed your arms, “then you wouldn’t have to watch trash daytime TV.”

She shrugged and muttered under her breath. She could be crotchety but you liked her sense of humour. Your aunts and uncles never came around because they just took it as spite. You were the only one who knew how to handle the jaded old lady.

“Maybe you coulda looked out the window,” you snickered, “quite a show going on in town.”

“Hmm, what’s that?” she stilled her needles and reached for her tea stained cup.

“Just a fight. You wouldn’t believe it, that lady mechanic beat the shit--”

“Language,” she huffed.

“Anyway, she had this guy in a chokehold. It was awesome.”

“What guy?” she squinted at you over her glasses.

“I dunno. Some out of towner. Remember I told you about that burly dude hanging around the library?”

“There’s more?” she sucked on her teeth, “those bikers have never been good news and now they’re bringing in more.”

“Yeah, well, what’re you gonna do?” you sniffed as you took out your phone and rewatched the scuffle with the volume down. You shook your head and opened up your TikTok.

“I don’t understand why you’re always on your dang phone,” your grandmother pestered.

“I’m not always on my phone,” you smiled at her smugly, “there are those time when I’m listening to you prattle on or you know, making you tea, oh, and cooking you dinner. What was it I did last week? Oh that’s right, I got Pippin out of the crawlspace.”

“I’m too old to be chasin’ that cat all around,” she huffed, “where is he anyway?”

“He’s your cat, I don’t know? Last time I saw him, I sent him back out the window for shredding my charger.”

“He knows you need to give it a rest,” she laughed to herself, “got your nose to that screen too much.”

“And what do you do, old lady? Crocheting doilies to put where exactly?”

She gave you that dry smile, the one that said watch it but carried a hint of humour still. You hit post and put your phone away as you waved off her irritation.

“Well, you know what, I sit all day at my computer, doing who knows what and you know what it got me?” you taunted, “a large mocha!” you sipped as you sat on the sofa and grabbed the remote, “and it’s paying my rent and putting bullet points on my resume.”

“Mhmm,” she scowled, “just remember, real life ain’t online. Those videos you’re always laughing at like hyena, that’s not reality. You forget it and it’ll come back and bit you. ‘Specially with those bikers.”

“Oh, nan, you know too well, don’t you? Didn’t you have a fling with one back in your hippie phase?”

“Two, actually,” she raised her brows, “I was young and stupid. Not like you, but still.”

“I love you too,” you chirped and sipped from your cup, flicking the station to Jerry Springer, “that’s more like it.”

💀

Your usual TikToks were sarcastic and dull complaints about your small town life. The response was less than pleasing but it gave you an outlet to vent. You liked to goof around and document the very specific type of weirdos that resided in Birch. But the video of the fight in the snow blew up your phone and made it difficult to ignore the buzzing as you went back up to your room to eke out the last of your captions for the ad agency.

When at last you could call your day hard-earned, you logged off and sent in your hours to the agency. Social media promotion was easy enough but the working gigs for a thousand different companies was tedious. You hoped you could build your portfolio enough to manage a single corporate page as you continued to chip away at your creative outlets.

You picked up your phone as you waited for Netflix to load on your tiny smart tv and flopped onto your bed, not two feet from your desk. You hit the icon in the upper panel of your phone and scrolled through the notifications, pausing to turn on another episode of the cable sitcom from ten years before. You snorted as you read each comment but the number under the video made your eyes round. The thing was bound to go viral.

As usual, you went down to help with supper. Pippin, the orange tabby, returned to cry at his dish and you fed him too. Your nan peered through her glasses at a crossword as she tasted the tangy pasta sauce.

“More basil,” she snipped.

“Well, I asked if you wanted to help,” you muttered, “I think it’s good.”

“Hmmp, I need milk,” she jutted her chin out, “for my after-dinner tea.”

“You couldn’t say something like three hours ago?” you blinked.

“I could have but I didn’t,” she snickered. You rolled your eyes and she took another forkful of penne and filled in another line on her puzzle, “ah, no hurry, girlie, you know I’m patient.”

“Patient? You?” you chuckled as you took your plate and shoved it in the microwave to keep it warm. The ancient thing had a dial and the door stuck, “I’ll just go get it over with.”

“Don’t forget your mitts,” she called after you as you tramped into the front room, “it’s cold.”

You pulled on your knitted cap and matching mitts. You zipped up your parka and shoved your feet into the deep boots. You grabbed your wallet and buried it in the spacious pocket. You bounced out the front door and down the steps as the sky sent down another coat of powder for the night.

You went up White Forge Street and through the short path behind the diner that led to the main road. You glanced over at The Asp, the beacon of the dull town, and turned towards the grocer. Like anywhere in Birch, the store was outdated and stuffy. It felt like stepping into another time with the paper bags and chunky tills.

You went down the center aisle and stopped at the fridge to search through the frosted glass. Your nan only drank whole milk and the last time you carelessly grabbed skim, she whined that even Pippin wouldn’t drink it. She was particular but that was just her nature. You couldn’t say you were any less fussy in some instances.

You grabbed a jug and the door slapped closed against the worn rubber seal. You headed up the candy aisle and brushed your woolly thumb over your chin as you considered gummy bears or Reeses’ Pieces.

“Hard choice?” The deep voice jolted you.

You snatched the box of chocolate and looked over at the man in leather, his chin tucked down behind the collar as snow dusted his shoulders.

“Sure,” you said as you brushed past him.

The cut of the leather told you he was better not entertained. While you thought the men amusing, you weren’t stupid enough to engage with them. You rarely listened to your grandmother but she was wise in her own way.

You knew a girl in highschool, she was fucking around with one of the club men in her junior year, she ended up with a baby and no support. You didn’t think he was into you that way but he could hardly have innocent intentions.

“How’s the old lady?” Clayton asked as he rung in your order at the end of the belt, you moved along with the groceries and pulled out your wallet.

“The usual, you know? She’s tryna quit again. Don’t know how long it’ll last.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll keep a carton aside for her,” he kidded as you felt your phone vibing in your back pocket.

“Don’t encourage her,” you swiped your card and punched in your pin, “although I don’t know what’s worse; the smoke or her sucking on those mints all the time.”

“Oh, it’s not the bitchin’?” he laughed.

“That, too,” you scooped up the paper bag and put your wallet away, “have a good one.”

As you came to the end of the first counter, you were nearly cut off by the club member as he swept around from till two. His own purchase of a car magazine and jerky was tucked under his arm.

“Ah, sorry,” he smiled, a sparkling smile, almost charming.

“No worries,” you continued on and he followed close behind.

“Those mitts look real warm. ‘Specially in this weather,” he said as you pushed open the door.

“Uh huh,” you kept on as your boots crunched out into the snow.

“You know where I can get a pair. Leather isn’t exactly thermal, you know?”

“These? My nan made ‘em. I’m sure Clayton got some hung up back there,” you looked across the street as you stepped up onto the ledge of snow between the sidewalk and the road.

“Am I bothering you?” he asked.

You looked at him dumbly and almost laughed in his face. You glanced back across the street then down towards The Asp.

“Sorta,” you answered.

“Make you a deal. Leave ya alone for your name.”

You eyed him. He was older than you like many of the Commandos. At least a decade, likely more than that. You chewed on your hesitation and cradled the bag more firmly against your side. His eyes strayed as he tried to see through the thick layer of your coat.

“Nah, I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers,” you said and hopped off onto the road.

You heard him behind you as he struggled to follow and as you came up to the other side, he came parallel with you and kept stride with you easily.

“I know you’re young but you’re not a kid,” he intoned, “what’s the harm in a name?”

“It’s a small town,” you stopped short of the end of White Forge, “I think I know enough about you to avoid you.”

“Oh ho, is that it? Well, I’m Sam, I’m not a stranger now, am I?”

“Not interested, Sam. Sure there’s women your own age over at the bar,” you nodded behind him.

“You wanna come see? Maybe have a drink?” he gave a crooked grin.

“You don’t give up, do you?” you shook your head, put off by his forwardness.

“Well?”

“Not tonight, Sam,” you turned around and headed down White Forge.

“Then what night?” he asked but you didn’t answer and he didn’t follow.

You turned down onto your street and refused to look back in case. It would be best not to mention the run-in to your nan, she was paranoid enough as it was. Besides, you’d forget about it by the end of next week.

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hardcasey · 3 years

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Sweet Tooth

Won't Fade into the Background - Part 2

Pairing: Toast x F!Reader

Summary: You are an owner of a bakery on Coruscant and end up running into a certain clone with a penchant for baked goods.

Word Count: 7k (I got carried away lmao)

Rating/Warnings: T, Mostly fluff again, though it gets a little PG-13 at the end. Nothing too crazy tho.

A/N: Who’s more of a background clone than everyone’s fave boy Toast? I decided to give him the classic bakery au meet-cute that he deserves. <3 Not proofread so let me know if there are any glaring errors!

“You sure you don’t need any help cleaning up?” Your employee, Vella, called from the front of the shop.

You poked your head out through the little window that separated the kitchen from the rest of the store. “I’m good, Vel. Go enjoy your Friday night.”

“Alright, night boss,” The Twi’lek woman gave you a mock salute and laughed when she saw you roll your eyes before turning and heading out the door into the busy Coruscant streets.

You turned back to your current task, taking inventory. It was not the most glamorous job, in fact it was your least favorite part about owning your own business, but it had to be done. With a sigh, you started counting, quickly losing yourself in the monotony.

You were the proud owner of a small bakery on Coruscant. It was not the most lucrative job by far, but it had always been your dream to bake for a living, and you were proud to have achieved that goal so quickly. It had taken a lot of hard work to get to where you were now, along with quite a bit of luck. You had been finishing up your last year in culinary school when you walked by a place for rent right in the heart of the city. It had been right around when the war started, and the owner wanted to sell off the space as quickly as possible. You had the sneaking suspicion that he may have been involved with the Separatists and was trying to jump ship and flee the planet. Honestly, you didn’t really care what his deal was, only that he was giving you the place for a steal. Seppie or not, you were thankful for him. There was no other way you would have been able to afford a place in this part of the city otherwise.

You had dropped a considerable portion of your savings into the purchase and renovation of the bakery, and there were times that you were subsisting off of nothing but cheap instant noodles, but everything had worked out in the end. The prime location meant there was a lot of foot traffic and it didn’t take long before you were turning a profit. And the quality of your pastries and baked goods earned you a loyal customer base, and you had many regulars that stopped in for a cup of caf and a little treat on their way to work.

Once you finished up taking inventory, you headed out to the front to start cleaning up, stacking the chairs up on the tables so you could start sweeping. You were saving up for a droid that would sweep the floors for you, but you were still a ways off from that so you had to do it the old fashioned way.

It was then that you noticed there was someone looking in through the window, clearly ogling the display of pastries and cakes that was there. The light from the setting sun pouring through the window cast their face in shadow, so you couldn’t tell who it was.

Might as well invite them in, you thought to yourself as you leaned the broom against the wall. After all, the bakery wasn’t technically closed yet, though you almost never had customers at this time.

You swung the door open and were about to say something to the figure when you saw them jump, clearly not realizing you were there.

“Oh, hey, I’m sorry for scaring you! I just wanted to let you know that the bakery is still open if you want anything.” You said gently, holding your hands up in a placating manner.

Now that you were outside, you could see the figure more clearly. They were a human male, with tan skin and warm brown eyes. He was wearing a grey uniform and his short dark hair was partly obscured by a matching grey hat. He seemed very familiar to you, and you were about to ask if you knew him, before it hit you. Duh! He was a clone. You weren’t used to seeing clones in anything other than their distinctive white armor, so it took a moment for your brain to put two and two together.

“Oh, uh, I was just looking, ma’am! I’m very sorry.” He said quickly, the same way that a kid who had just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar would. He looked so sheepish, as if he was about to bolt any second. You weren’t sure why he was so apologetic, he was just looking through the window. A bunch of people did that.

“No need to apologize, everyone looks through the windows.” You said, flashing him what you hoped was a reassuring smile.

“I, uh, just wasn’t sure if you were gonna run me out or something,” he told you, averting his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Why would I do that?”

“Not many businesses are open to clones, and I wasn’t sure. I’ve never seen any clones in your shop and I guess I just assumed.”

Okay, that lowkey made your blood boil. Why would anyone discriminate against the clones? They were the ones putting their lives on the line to protect the Republic, for kriffs sake! You hadn’t interacted with many clones, but the ones you had run into were nothing but polite and respectful.

“That’s terrible! We absolutely allow clones here! You know what, come inside. There are still some pastries leftover from today. I’ll put them in a box for you and you can bring them back to your, er, squad? Company? Your friends!” You finished breathlessly, a little embarrassed you knew so little about anything involving the military.

“Are you sure? I-I don’t have any money to pay for them,” He said sadly, his eyes darting down to his shoes as if there was suddenly something fascinating about them.

“Nonsense! They’ll be going bad soon anyway and will just end up in the trash. You’ll be doing me a favor, honestly.” Without allowing him to protest further, you grabbed his elbow and tugged him into your shop. In the back of your mind you registered how big his bicep felt, which surprised you. He looked fit, yes, but it wasn’t like he was some meathead. Maybe his uniform just did a good job of disguising how strong he was. You felt yourself blush once you realised the path your thoughts had veered down and quickly pushed them out of your mind.

“It smells good in here,” he said to no one in particular as he dropped his harm and headed behind the counter to start filling a box with leftover pastries.

You smiled at him, before you realised something. “Forgive my manners, but I didn’t catch your name.”

“CT-1928, ma’am.” He replied, his back straightening ever so slightly as he did, as if the action was ingrained in him.

“Do you have a nickname? I know a lot of clones go by them instead of their number.” You said delicately. You didn’t want to offend him by asking, but it felt so strange, so dehumanizing, to call him by a number.

“Oh, uh, my brothers call me Toast.” He said, once again sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not the greatest nickname, but it’s the one that stuck.”

“Haha, I think it’s cute. And don’t worry, my parents used to call me Possum when I was little, because I used to climb around and get into the trash. It was cute until they said it in front of my friends, then they started calling me that too.”

He laughed at that, his shoulders relaxing, his posture not so stiff. “My brothers started calling me Toast because the first time they served toast in the cafeteria after I got my assignment, I ate so many pieces I made myself sick.”

“Pfft. That’s amazing,” You laughed as you shuffled things around so you could fit one last croissant inside. You got the sense the clones didn’t often get to have sweets, so you were going to make sure Toast could bring as many back as possible. “So are you here on shore leave?”

“I’m actually a member of the Coruscant Guard. So I’m here often. Well all the time. I walk by this place every time they send me off to run errands, which is often since I’m still the new guy.”

“Oh, that’s cool. That means you work with senators, right? That must be… something.” You’d read stories on the holonet about some of the more notorious senators and you doubted they treated the clones particularly well.

“I haven’t personally worked with any members of the senate, though a lot of my brothers have. Most of my day is spent staring at security cameras. So, pretty boring. Though I’m not complaining.”

You tied up the package with a neat little bow before handing it to him, another bright smile flashing across your face. Something about his earnest, open demeanor was very endearing to you and you secretly hoped you’d get to see him again soon. If not anything else, you could at least learn a little more about the clones that dedicated their lives to protecting the Republic, since your knowledge on the subject was apparently so lacking.

“Well it’s good to hear that you’re local. Hopefully you can stop by again the next time you’re running errands. And feel free to invite your brothers too!”

“T-thank you, ma’am. That is very kind of you.” He said before taking the box of pastries in his hand, holding it almost reverently. He was trying to hide it but you could tell he was very excited to eat some sweets later.

With one last nod he headed out of the store, the bell chiming lightly after him. You stood there, simply watching his receding form blend into the crowd, catching yourself smiling at the prospect of seeing him again.

~~~

Toast hadn’t made it three steps into the barracks before his vode were descending upon him. Well not really him as much as the box full of sugary confections in his hands.

“What ya got there?” Jek inquired, already tugging at the ribbon to investigate the box’s contents.

Toast shoved his greedy hands out of the way and marched over to the counter where they kept the caf machine, which was in a perpetual state of disarray. The caf machine was old, probably older than any of them, and saw high traffic 24/7. Honestly, with the amount it leaked and sputtered, it was a miracle the machine was still functioning. Toast hoped it would at least until the war was over because when it went, Fox would be in the grave right next to it.

“You know that bakery on the way back from the Jedi temple?” Toast inquired as he placed the box on the counter, starting to pick at the knot so he could open it without cutting the ribbon. It was a pretty striped pastel pink and he wanted to keep it.

“The one with the little tooka-shaped cookies?” Rhys’ eyes went wide with excitement.

“Yeah, the lady who worked there saw me looking inside and then gave me all the leftover pastries from the window.”

“For free!?” Jek exclaimed as he shuffled back towards the box, “What did you get? Did you get an eclair? Please tell me you got an eclair.” Toast nodded and handed his brother one, who promptly dug in.

“What’s this about eclairs?” Stone rounded the corner, instantly noticing the box and saddling up to him. “Did you get sweets?”

Toast spent the next few minutes divvying up the various pastries between everyone. He chose something made up of many thin layers of dough, filled with chopped nuts and soaked in honey. Baklava, he thinks it was called, or maybe balaclava? He didn’t know the difference. But he didn’t care as he devoured it, savoring each bite like it was something precious. He glanced around and saw all his brothers were experiencing similar states of bliss, if their expressions were anything to go by.

~~~

He didn’t have a chance to visit the bakery for the next two weeks, too busy running around dealing with mess after mess. One day, a prison riot. The next, bomb threats at the senate. Everyone in the guard was so exhausted and in desperate need of a break. So when Hound mentioned he was taking Grizzer for a walk, Toast decided to tag along so that he could get some fresh air. Well, fresh for Coruscant.

At some point they’d run into Rhys and Thire, on the way back from patrol duty. Neither of them were in a rush to get back to HQ to receive new marching orders, so they ended up tagging along.

Their little group wandered the streets, just walking with no direction in mind. Grizzer had his snout pressed close to the ground, desperate to sniff everything. Toast smiled at the massiff’s antics from behind his bucket, before glancing around and realizing they were just a block away from the bakery.

“Hey, guys. Wanna stop at that bakery? It’s just over there.” Toast asked, pointing his finger at the little awning in front of the shop.

Thire looked at him as if he had two heads. “Why? Do you think we’ll get handouts again? Not that I’m complaining, free is free, but didn’t you get those because it was the end of the day and she was planning on throwing them out? It’s the middle of the day now…”

“Well, she said I could come back whenever. And that I could bring you guys too.” Toast felt his cheeks heat up for some reason, suddenly feeling embarrassed. What if she was just being polite, and he wasn’t really supposed to come back? What if he brought too many of his brothers and she thought he was taking advantage of her generosity?

He was just about to suggest they should move on when Rhys piped up. “Well, what are we waiting for? C’mon.” He was already halfway to the bakery before anyone could respond. Rhys had a major sweet tooth and nothing motivated him more than some sweets. Hound and Grizzer were right on his heels, having missed out on the pastries last time.

Toast caught up to them quickly, with Thire right behind them, though they all froze as soon as they made it up to the doors. There were people inside this, lounging around sipping drinks and chatting. Could they go in? Would people get mad?

All his vode were waiting for him to do something, and his eyes searched frantically around the storefront as if he would find an answer there. And, surprisingly, he did. Sort of. Because hanging right in the window was a sign that read ‘CLONES WELCOME’. You had to have hung it after your interaction, there was no other explanation. Something about that made his heart race.

All of a sudden, you appeared in the window, a friendly grin on your face as you pointed at the sign and waved for them all to come in.

“You didn’t tell us she was pretty, vod,” Thire whispered as they shuffled their way inside. Toast could just feel the shit eating grin from under his brother’s bucket. He just gave a noncommittal grunt as a response, which only made Thire laugh.

The group of them stood awkwardly in the threshold of the store, not really knowing what to do with themselves. A few patrons looked over to see what was going on, and Toast braced for some sort of outrage at clones invading their space, but after a few seconds they all turned back to whatever they were doing before.

Toast stood there dumbly, just staring at you. He hadn’t really been able to take a good look at you the last time, too distracted by how strange the whole situation had been. But now he could see that Thire was right. You are pretty. Very pretty.

If you noticed how tongue-tied he was, you didn’t show it. You just greeted them with another smile and oh Maker that smile. It was the kind of smile that lit up your whole face and Toast wanted to see it every day for the rest of his life.

“Hi! Is this your first time here?” You asked, cocking your head to one side.

“He’s been here before.” Hound answered, shoving Toast to the front of the group.

“Oh, are you the one from a few weeks ago? Toast?”

You remembered his name! He was pretty sure he was about to melt into a puddle right then and there. It took a second to realize that he hadn't answered yet and he quickly sputtered out, “Y-yeah. That’s me.”

“I’m glad you came back! And you brought your brothers,” You turned to address the rest of the clones and offered out a hand, “It’s nice to meet you all, what are your names.”

Hound, always the people person and the one most used to interacting with the public, stepped forward and shook your hand. “I’m Hound. That’s Thire and Jek. It’s nice to meet you ma’am, I’ve heard you’re a great baker, though I wouldn’t know first-hand.”

You cocked an eyebrow at Toast, “You didn’t share?”

“He was out on patrol, I swear!” Toast stammered, holding his hands up in front of him.

“Hmmm, I guess I’ll take your word for it. Though I think he should get to pick out what he wants first. It’s only fair.”

“Really?!” Hound exclaimed. His enthusiasm seemed to rub off on Grizzer, the massiff sitting up on his back legs and wiggling excitedly before letting out a happy bark. “Down boy,” Hound ordered, placing a hand on Grizzer’s hand to calm him down.

‘Awe, he’s just excited,” you giggled as you bent down to give him some pats of your own. “Can he eat treats? I have some by the door that I give to some of the other dogs.” You asked Hound as you straightened back up.

“Yes, he loves treats. Would you mind if I took them to go? I don’t want him spoiling his dinner.”

“Of course! Now pick out what you all want. And you can put a box together to take to your brothers.”

You spent the next twenty minutes helping them pick out pastries, answering questions so they could pick out something for each of their brothers. After they had made their selections, you sat with them at one of the tables and chatted. Well, you mostly asked questions and they all talked over each other in their excitement. Still, you enjoyed the time with them, happy to provide a place for them to relax and unwind. Their jobs seemed incredibly stressful and by reading in between the lines of some of the things they told you, they seemed to be mistreated by a good portion of the senators, made to run menial errands or be the punching bags senators took their frustrations out on. You could especially see it in Toast, in the way he was so scared of offending you, how he would avert his eyes all the time and flinch if someone spoke too loudly. It honestly made you want to burn down the senate building.

Everyone had finished eating when Thire looked down at his wrist and exclaimed, “Oh kriff, it’s been over an hour! Fox is gonna kill us.”

Toast scoffed. “Correction: Fox is going to kill you and Rhys. Hound and I are off right now.”

“Bring him an extra tiramisu to smooth things over.” You said, already wrapping one up and adding it to the rest of their haul.

The group scrambled around, putting their buckets back on and grabbing the various pastry boxes you’d filled for them. Toast paused before turning to you. “Um, we don’t have any credits on us right now, but I can bring some tomorrow. The Guard has a small discretionary fund we can-”

You stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

“A-are you sure? That was a lot of food…” Toast didn’t want her to lose money because of him. After all, he was the one that brought his brothers here.

“It’s okay, seriously. I actually started a little program where customers can buy a coffee or a pastry or whatever for a clone. There’s actually a little bucket next to the register that I set up,” you turned and pointed at it so he could see. “It was actually my employee Vella’s idea. She came up with it the day after we first met, and it’s been pretty popular. There are a lot of people out there who are really thankful for what you guys do, you know.”

Toast didn’t know what to say, but he felt like he wanted to cry at such a nice gesture. “That is… really kind of you. Thanks.” It didn’t feel like nearly enough, but they were the only words Toast could form at the moment.

“Of course,” you said, giving his shoulder a little squeeze. “Now go catch up with your brothers, and let the rest of them know they’re always welcome to a free drink or pastry here.”

Toast thanked you once again before heading outside to where his brothers were waiting, trying to convince himself that your hand hadn’t lingered on his arm for a beat too long. No, it was just wishful thinking.

As he and his vode made their way back to the barracks, Rhys threw an arm around his neck and said, “Wow, Toast, your girlfriend is the best!” earning him snickers from the rest of the group.

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Toast tried to protest.

“But you want her to be~” Hound teased. And he was right, Toast wanted that more than anything in the galaxy right now. But he knew it was impossible. You were beautiful and kind and funny and perfect and he... was just a clone.

“It’s not like it could ever happen anyway,” Toast sighed.

Thire nudged him with his shoulder. “Psssh, we all saw how her hand lingered on you. She definitely likes you.”

“Definitely,” Rhys echoed.

Toast smiled under his bucket. It might be a pipe dream, but in that moment he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy.

~~~

In the following weeks, you fell into a sort of routine. Toast would stop by your bakery at least once a week, sometimes more depending on his free time. And you cherished every moment you got to spend with him. Sometimes he would bring fellow members of the guard along, and every visit ended with your stomach cramping from how much you’d laughed at their various antics. You were confused how such a chaotic bunch of individuals were able to come together as an effective police force… that is until you met Commander Fox. His talent for wrangling them deserved a medal in your opinion.

As much as you enjoyed his brothers, you really looked forward to the times where you and Toast were alone together. He’d always come to you with some wild story of an eccentric prisoner or a crazy heist perpetrated in the lower levels. Honestly you hadn’t expected him to be such a gossip, but you were hardly complaining.

In return for his stories you started teaching him how to bake. It started off with him just watching you work as he talked, sometimes asking questions about what you were doing or peaking over your shoulder to get a closer look. Eventually he became an assistant of sorts, spending his time grabbing ingredients for you and washing the dishes once you were done with them.

Today was the day you were going to convince him to bake a loaf of bread with you. You were going to start him off with a simple loaf of white bread, one that didn’t require much kneading and didn’t have a long proving time. You had already pulled out all the ingredients, bowls, and utensils and were waiting patiently for him to arrive.

By the time you heard the bell ring and saw him coming through the door, you were tapping your foot in anticipation. He wasn’t late - in fact he was right on time as always - but you were just itching to see him.

“Toast! You’re here!” Ugh, that was the best greeting you could come up with? you cringed internally. Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind your banal greeting, a smile on his lips as he pulled his bucket over his head and placed it on a nearby shelf. You found yourself longing for a reality where he greeted you with a peck on the lips along with that sweet smile. Maker, you had it bad for him.

His eyes flashed over to the ingredients on the counter. “What are you making today?”

“I’m not making anything today. But we are. I think it's time for you to try your hand at baking. And in honor of your love of toast, we’re starting off with bread.”

He rolled his eyes at that, but the corner of his mouth still quirked up, showing off one of his dimples. “Isn’t bread kind of hard to make though? Maybe we should start out with something simpler…”

“Where’s your courage, soldier?” you teased, poking a finger at his chest. He huffed and you laughed. “Now c’mon, wash your hands and get your apron on.”

He ended up taking the top half of his armor off, in only his blacks from the waist up, his sleeve rolled up to his elbows. You were half thankful and half disappointed the apron covered the way his form fitting shirt stretched across his chest. At least you wouldn’t be distracted, but boy oh boy did you want a closer look.

The two of you chatted about your days as you started working on each of your loaves. With so few ingredients the process went quick, and soon enough you were kneading the dough.

“Now this is called the slap and fold technique. First get your dough together in a ball like this… and then you slap it down!” You demonstrated by taking your lump of wet dough and slapping it down on the table. “Then you just fold it in half and repeat. We need to do it for about five minutes.”

“I think you mean we knead to do it for five minutes,” Toast said with a cheeky grin.

“Blegh. Terrible.” You flicked a bit of flour at him as punishment. “I think you knead to be locked up for that pun.” Toast just laughed and continued working, the smile on his face never dropping.

Once you were ready, you shaped both of the loaves and put them in the oven. When you turned back to him you couldn’t help but giggle. He was absolutely covered in flour.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” He asked, face suddenly becoming serious.

You stepped close to him and brushed his face clean with your thumb. “On your face, in your hair, on your shirt. I think you managed to get flour everywhere except the apron.”

“Well you were the one throwing it at me!” came his retort as he used his hands to shake his hair out, turning it from grey back to its lovely dark color.

“Touché. Now let me help you get cleaned up. I think you got some on your back. Somehow.” You grabbed a washcloth and wet it under the sink and started using it to wipe the flour off his clothes.

“It’s one of my many skills from cadet training.” He told you, eyes twinkling, as you dabbed at a spot you missed on his face. You could feel his lips moving as he spoke. Stop thinking about how soft they probably are, you chided yourself.

“You’re just lucky you’re so charming.”

That made him blush and avert his eyes, which would have been cute if you weren’t worried you’d gone a bit too far. You didn’t want to embarrass him or anything. You had thought the two of you were flirting, but maybe you read the situation wrong. You were notoriously bad in the romance department, something Vella had told you after the third time you had missed a customer trying to flirt with you.

Toast cleared his throat before turning back to you. He noticed you’d stepped back away from him and sighed internally. That would have been the perfect time to kiss you or ask you out or something. Anything other than dancing around each other like you two were doing now. Despite the fact that his brothers believed you two were already together - no matter how much he protested - he still wasn’t sure if you felt the same as he did. He had his suspicions, but what if he was wrong? You were his only friend outside of his brothers and he didn’t want to do anything to mess that up or make it awkward.

He thanked the Maker you didn’t tease him, just turning and starting to wash the dishes. He grabbed a bowl and joined you at the big industrial sink, dunking his hands in the warm sudsy mixture and used the sponge to start scrubbing at the stubborn bits of dough that refused to come off. The two of you worked in silence, though not an uncomfortable one, Toast was glad to find. Just as he was finishing drying the last bowl, he remembered something.

“Oh, uh, I almost forgot. Do you know Senator Amidala?”

“Not personally, but I’ve heard of her.”

“Well, she is throwing a banquet or something in a few days and the bakery that was supposed to handle the desserts fell through at the last minute. Thorn suggested you as a replacement and asked me to ask you if it was possible.”

“Hmm. It depends on how long I’d have, and what kind of desserts she wants. Plus how many guests she’s having. I’m not saying no, but I’m not sure how realistic it is. It’s just me, Vella, and two others on staff.” You had started pacing, already running the logistics through your head.

“What if me and the rest of the guard helped you?”

You paused your pacing to look at him. “That could work… but would you all even be able to take off work?”

“Well, it’s been pretty slow this week and we’re spending most of our time getting ready for the party…” You responded with a noncommittal hum so he pressed on. “How about I call Senator Amidala and Commander Fox on the coms and we can get everything worked out?”

“Yeah, sure. That’d be great.”

For the next twenty minutes you hashed out the details with Senator Amidala - Padmé, she insisted you call her - and Commander Fox. Eventually you settled on an order of one large, four-tiered cake and a hundred little fruit tarts. Fox had been hesitant to lend out his troopers until Padmé had offered to replace the old coffee machine in the guard’s office. The party was in three days, so it would be a tight deadline, but you were sure you could do it. Especially with the guard’s help. There was also the motivating factor of the hefty payment Padmé was offering. It would be enough for you to buy an army of cleaning robots!

As soon as you hung up you were already placing an order of the ingredients and messaging your employees to tell them about the job. You were so focused on your task that you jumped with the oven’s timer dinged. Toast stifled a chuckle behind his hand and you shot him a look as you pulled both loaves of bread out of the oven. Both loaves were a perfect golden brown and looked absolutely delicious.

Toast hovered over your shoulder as you placed the bread on the cooling rack, and you had to slap his hand away a few times as you waited for them to cool. Once you could hold them safely in your hands, you handed Toast his loaf and took yours in your hands. “C’mon, let’s take a picture together with our bread.” You tucked yourself into his side and held your loaf up as he snapped the picture.

Once you were satisfied with the picture you relented to his puppy-dog eyes and cut into the bread. You both slathered a piece in butter and tapped them together as if they were wine glasses before taking a bite.

“Mmmmmhhh,” you both groaned in unison at the first bite of warm bread. There was nothing better.

“This is so good.” You mumbled in between bites.

“So much better than anything in the caf.” Toast agreed, his eyes half-closed in bliss. Before you missed it, you snapped a picture. Toast with his toast. It was perfect.

~~~

You stared at the sight of the twenty clone troopers in front of you, decked out in aprons and hair nets, standing at parade rest in a line as Commander Fox, also in an apron, paced back and forth, hands behind his back, as he gave them their orders.

“Now I want you all on your best behavior. It may seem like you’re on a break, but I want you to treat this as if you’re still on the clock,” He stopped pacing and turned to his men, “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir!” They all responded with a salute.

You took that moment to snap a picture of them all, Fox’s head snapping towards you at the click of the camera. “I want to remember this,” you told him, fighting back a smile.

You turned to Padmé, who had insisted on coming to help out herself, bringing along her two droids and a Jedi to offer some extra hands. She came complete with a chic outfit for the occasion and you envied how good she looked at six in the morning. You showed her the picture and she asked, “Can you send that to me?” Fox huffed loudly and the two of you broke out into a fit of giggles.

Once you got a hold of yourself you started listing out tasks that needed to be done to Fox. “We’ll need people to clean and cut the fruit for the tarts. Another group can help with mixing and cutting the crust. For the cake, we’ll also need one group handling the batter, and another the frosting and decorations. And we can rotate who is on dish duty.”

Fox immediately started delegating out tasks to his troops and you assigned a member of your staff to help each group. Everyone quickly scrambled to start working on their tasks, the troopers clearly very excited to help.

Throughout the day you flitted from group to group, demonstrating how to do things when needed. Your employees were handling everything so well and you made a reminder to yourself to give them a nice bonus after this. You stepped away from where Vella was showing the boys how to make flowers out of frosting and found Toast lecturing his brothers about the right way to measure flour.

“You can’t just scoop it out straight from the bag, you’ll use too much that way. You have to sift it in like this,” He started demonstrating the proper technique for them, and you noticed he had somehow managed to get flour all over himself again.

“Good job, Toast,” You said as you passed him, brushing the flour out of his hair as you went. “Keep up the great work, boys!” You gave them a thumbs up and moved onto the next group, dodging the R2 unit as it made a beeline to the fridge, a tray of freshly cut fruit balanced on its head.

The next two days passed by smoother than you could have hoped. There were only a few minor incidents. Hound tripping over R2 and spilling some batter, Thorn having to scold Jek and Rhys for eating half of their frosting. Nothing you couldn't handle. Commander Fox had everyone working like a well oiled machine, making sure everything stayed on time. Throughout both days, Padmé’s protocol droid busied himself with taking pictures of the event, and Padmé promised to send them all to you after the party.

It got down to the wire, but you managed to put the last slice of jogan fruit on the hundredth tart with forty-five minutes to spare. Your employees handled loading everything up into the speeder to take them to the venue. You watched them out of the corner of your eye to make sure things went smoothly. Padmé came up to you and thanked you profusely for rushing such a huge order and promised to promote your business to all her friends before she and the rest of her entourage hopped into the speeder with your employees and took off for the party.

You turned back to the clone troopers, who had already finished washing up most of the kitchen. “Don’t worry about the rest, guys, I’ve got it. You should probably start heading back and start getting ready.”

“Trying to kick us out so soon?” Fox mused.

You laughed. “Actually, before you go, I have a little surprise for you all. As a way to say thank you and as a pick me up before the party. I know those things can be tiring.” You went and retrieved the gift you had stayed up all last night working on, keeping it behind your back until you were right in front of them.

You held out a plate of cookies shaped like their helmets, each one customized to look like the helmet of each of the troopers there. You had recruited C3-PO to take reference pictures of all of their helmets while they were working, and the droid had really pulled through for you, even managing to get detail shots for you.

“Woah, are these our helmets?” Stone asked as you handed him his cookie.

“Look, it’s me.” Thorn said to Fox as he waggled his cookie in front of his brother’s face. Fox rolled his eyes but even he couldn’t fight his smile away.

You beamed as each of the troopers examined their cookies and thanked you for them. They all groaned as you forced them to get together for one last picture and the shutter had barely flashed before they were scarfing down the cookies.

Once they were done, Fox and Thorn started hoarding the group through the door. Before Toast could follow his brothers, Fox turned to him, “You stay here and help out with the rest of the clean up.”

Toast blinked for a moment before he responded with a “Yes, sir.”

He waited until he was sure the last of his vode were out the door before he turned to you. He planned on saying something funny or romantic, but all his words failed him as you launched yourself at him and pulled him into a big hug. “Thanks for all your help. I couldn’t have done this without you.” You told him, your voice muffled from your spot pressed against his chest. He returned the hug and rested his cheek against the top of your head.

You couldn’t be sure if it was him who tilted his head down or you who tilted your head up, but you soon found yourselves nose to nose. Maybe sleep deprivation lowered your inhibitions, because you soon found yourself raising up on your tiptoes and pressing your lips to his. His arms tightened around you as he returned the kiss, letting out a groan as you both melted into each other. It started off sweet and gentle, but quickly developed into something more heated as you swept your tongue across the seam of his lips. He let out another tortured whine as he opened his mouth up to you, pulling you flush against him with one hand falling down to grab your ass while the other hitched your leg over his hip.

Eventually you needed to come up for air and reluctantly parted from him, a blush rising to your cheeks as the string of saliva that connected you broke and dribbled down your chin. He wiped it away with his thumb before bringing his forehead to rest against yours. The two of you stayed like that for a while, gazing into each other's eyes as you caught your breath.

You brought up one of your hands to brush a bit of flour out of his eyebrow. “You managed to get flour on you somehow. I don’t think we even used flour today.”

He grinned at you. “It’s one of my many charms.”

You giggled and pulled him back in for another kiss. Your lips had just met when you heard a camera shutter go off and you both whipped your heads around to the source of the noise.

Vella stood in the doorway to the kitchen, camera raised and a shit-eating grin on her face. “Haha, I knew it! Thire owes me ten credits!”

Both of you blinked at each other for a moment before joining in with her laughter.

#toast clone #clone trooper toast #toast x reader #toast clone x reader #clone wars fanfic #star wars fanfic #reader insert #won't fade into the background #fun fact: toasts ct number is the year sliced bread was invented

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writeforfandoms · 3 years

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Merry Go Round of Life 3

Find my masterlist

Part 3 people!! And guess what? We’re finally meeting some of our faves here!

This will be Din Djarin x f!reader. Eventually. Give it time.

Warnings: I don’t even think there’s swearing in this chapter.

Chapter three: In which there is a wizard

A soft weight settling on your lap woke you up. Well, partially woke you. You didn’t open your eyes as you murmured, “Not time yet ‘Mer.” It was definitely Omera. Cara would never be so gentle trying to rouse you.

A gentle coo made you blink, then your eyes flew open and you sat bolt upright, and then immediately slouched back into the chair with a groan of pain. Oh, ow. Your everything hurt.

A giggle from your lap caught your attention again, and you carefully blinked down at your lap. A small child was settled happily in your lap, looking up at you with large brown eyes. He smiled and giggled again. Your heart melted, just a little.

“And who are you, little one?” you murmured. “Are you here by yourself?” You looked around, one hand carefully cupped against the kid’s back to hold him steady. But there was no other sign of life around.

“Finally awake again,” the fire grumbled, rousing from slumber and stretching up towards the ceiling. “Took you long enough!”

For a moment, just a moment, you stared at the fire. That had been real, not a weird dream. All of it was real. The curse. The witch. All of it. You were in the moving castle.

“Don’t mind the kid,” the fire told you. “He’s Djarin’s ward. I think. Or adopted son. I don’t really keep track.”

“Djarin?” You stumbled a little over the unfamiliar word.

“The wizard?” The fire prompted you, sounding a little derogatory. “You don’t even know the wizard’s name?”

You shrugged, carefully, and rearranged the kid to be more comfortable in your lap. “Nobody in Kalevala knows his name,” you pointed out, perhaps a touch defensive. “We all just called him the Wizard of the Moving Castle, or something like that.”

“Ha!” The fire snorted, sending sparks all over the place. You yelped and swatted at a stray one near your skirt. “How pretentious! I can’t decide if he’d love it or hate it.”

“What should I call the little one?” You smiled down at the child, who beamed right back at you.

“Dunno. Mostly Djarin just calls him kid.”

The kid looked around at that. You had the feeling that he understood a lot more of what was going on than he let on. Then he grabbed a handful of your skirt and started playing with it, apparently content to stay where he was.

“Hey, we still on?” Peli demanded suddenly. “Our deal. You’re still going to work on it, right?”

You stood, carefully holding the kid to you so he wouldn’t be harmed. The little darling immediately cuddled into you with a little huff. “I don’t know how much help I can be. I’m not a witch.”

“You don’t need to be.” Peli smiled, and it showed far too many pointy teeth for a fire. Far too many pointy teeth in general, actually, now that you thought about it. “You’ll figure it out, you seem smart.”

Something about Peli’s words had little alarm bells going off in your mind. “What do you mean, figure it out?”

“Well, I can’t just tell you,” Peli hissed. “That’s against the rules. Even I can’t break the rules. Nobody can. But! There will be hints. All you need to do is stick around for a little while, and once you figure it out, I’ll lift the curse on you!”

You considered for a few moments. Really, that didn’t sound awful. You’d have to think of a convincing reason to stay in the castle. But either Peli would help you, or wizard Djarin would. You still couldn’t exactly go back to your shop, not with the way you looked. So while this hadn’t been part of your plan, it wasn’t bad. There were no major downsides that you could see.

“Alright,” you agreed. “It’s a deal.”

Peli grinned at that. “You’ll need to give Djarin a reason for staying.”

You nodded your agreement and started to carefully walk around, looking around the room for inspiration. The room wasn’t messy, really, but it was a bit cluttered. And a bit dusty.

“I could be his housekeeper?” you suggested.

“Not a chance,” Peli said with a snort. “He’d throw you out in an instant. Stubborn man.”

You frowned at the fire briefly before you continued your exploration. There was a little kitchenette attached to the main space, and before long you had a kettle and tea. “I could cook?”

“Nah, he does some of that himself.” Peli eyed you as you poured water into the kettle. “What are you doing?”

“Making tea.” You tone said that this really should be obvious.

“Oh no you don’t!” Peli immediately protested. “No! I refuse! That is blatant abuse!”

“I don’t see any other fireplaces,” you pointed out. “And I want a cup of tea. Actually, the little one could do with some breakfast, too.” You turned appraising eyes to the kid, who was still propped happily against your shoulder. He blinked at you and burbled, one little hand reaching over to pat your cheek gently. Your heart melted a little more.

“No,” Peli repeated, eyes wide. “No!”

“This won’t hurt you,” you told her, well used to tantrums from both your sisters and your niece. “Just bend down your head a little.”

Peli made an odd hissing, crackling noise as you plonked the kettle down over the fire to heat. Satisfied, you hobbled off to grab the frying pan and eggs. Everyone liked eggs. (Hopefully the kid liked eggs.)

“That’s right,” you muttered as you plonked the fry pan down too. “Good fire.”

“Here’s another curse for you,” Peli muttered bitterly, blue eyes staring at you. “May all your cooking burn.”

You hummed quietly as you worked, and the kid behaved remarkably well. Cooking one-handed was a little slower, but the kid didn’t want to be put down, with one hand fisted in your dress and the other half-shoved in his own mouth. Every time you looked at him, those big brown eyes were looking right back at you. Really, it should be illegal for children to be this cute.

The door creaked open behind you as you were cracking eggs into the fry pan. You stiffened but didn’t turn to look, instead focusing on the eggs. You stirred the eggs carefully, waiting for something to happen. The kid babbled something incoherent and turned to look at the new person, but didn’t let go of you.

“Peli.” The voice was low and rough, and definitely male.

“You’re back!” Peli wiggled under the fry pan. “Make her stop, she’s awful!”

A presence stopped next to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw dark fabric and metal armor. Again with the armor. Maybe it was a witch and wizard thing? Hadn’t the witch been wearing armor when she cursed you? Curious. The person was male, and taller than you (easier than ever, since you seem to have shrunk a few inches in your new old age). He was also eerily, disconcertingly quiet.

“What is going on?” he finally asked, voice a little raspy.

“She’s abusing me!” Peli immediately burst out. The kid in your arms cooed and laid fully against your shoulder, grabbing a handful of hair in his grabby little hand. You huffed and carefully shuffled egg onto a plate for the kid.

“Eggs?” you offered the wizard blithely. “Figured the little one could use some breakfast.”

The wizard didn’t respond, but the helmet slowly moved to look at Peli instead. “Who let her in?” he demanded.

“Nobody, she just wandered in on her own,” Peli answered. “Somewhere between Kalevala and Tattooine.”

“Just wandered in,” he repeated slowly. The helmet shifted focus to you.

You shrugged, careful not to disturb the child, and managed to balance two plates over to the table. Wizard Djarin followed you.

“I was looking for a new job,” you told him, on the fly. That was not true, but somehow you’d stumbled into a job all the same. “You really shouldn’t leave such a young one home alone, you know. They’ll get into all sorts of mischief. My niece is only a little older than this one, and she was a fright! Used to try to put herself in one of the ovens if my sister didn’t have an eye on her.” You chuckled. That was absolutely true - Winta, Omera’s daughter, had been a right terror as a toddler, and had run the entire bakery staff into the ground.

The wizard looked at you, his helmet tipped slightly to one side, apparently deep in thought. Letting him look his fill, you set the child down at the table with a clean spoon you found. Fortunately, he was able to feed himself, though he seemingly narrated the entire process to you. You hummed when it seemed appropriate and nodded along with him. Honestly, small children were sometimes good like this, entertaining themselves and you. Win-win.

“You’re good with him.”

You jumped. You hadn’t expected the wizard to speak, and you blinked up at him. “He’s a sweet little one,” you answered carefully.

The wizard nodded once. When the kettle whistled, he waved you to stay where you were and retrieved the kettle himself, pouring the hot water into the teapot. You blinked, surprised, but didn’t object. As soon as all the cooking objects were away from the fire, Peli sprung back up towards the ceiling, seemingly stretching out and complaining, though nobody paid much attention to the words. (Well, you certainly didn’t, and it didn’t seem that Djarin was paying attention either.)

The rest of breakfast passed quietly. The kid ate and then slid off his chair to go wrap himself around the wizard, who picked him up easily and carried him off. You cleaned up after breakfast and then did a bit of tidying (and conveniently poked your nose into various cubbies and drawers, just in case there were any convenient hints laying about).

It wasn’t longer than an hour before the wizard returned and handed the kid to you again. You took the kid, blinking up at the wizard.

“I won’t be long,” he said, helmet focused on the two of you. “Stay with the kid.”

You nodded, momentarily perplexed, and watched as Djarin walked to the door. He turned a knob next to the door, one you hadn’t noticed before, and opened the door. Instead of seeing the expected hills of the countryside around Kalevala, or even the sandy wastes of Tattooine, you saw… a town? It was a different style of architecture than Kalevala, and you thought you heard birds, but different birds than you’d ever heard in your life.

But the view you had was brief, as Djarin stepped out through the door and shut it firmly behind him.

#merry go round of life #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #howl's moving castle au

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

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Irredeemable my foot

Hi everyone, I decided to write a fic centered on Chloe; is a sugar fic. I always liked her character. And I would like to dedicate this fic to Sienna, aka @catsandfanfic. Happy 14th birthday. Her birthday is March 6th. In my time zone it’s March 6 so hopefully you’re not getting this too early. I hope your birthday is amazing, and I really hope you enjoy this fic; i heard you like Maribat. And @justdyingontheinside gives you a shout out on your special day.

Chloe knew how everyone expected it to go. The blond could admit… She was spoiled, selfish, petty, and insecure, with mommy issues galore.

But she wasn’t a villain. Yet she could understand why people thought she’d go down like one.

Nevertheless, for people to think she’d ever willingly work for Hawkmoth; a man who ruthlessly used his power to corrupt the hearts and minds of innocents (like her father, mother, Adrien, Sabrina, and everyone else in Paris) and use them to further his own agenda… was too much.

The people who believed that was basically saying Chloe was irredeemable; that there was no way she could ever be anything more than what she was. Like she couldn’t grow. Like she couldn’t better herself; like everyone in the world had that ability except for her. She was fourteen-years-old.

Only fifteen!

Why was it so easy to write her off?

Chloe Bourgeois was a bully, not a freaking serial killer.

She wasn’t a Supervillain. However, Chloe could admit, that for one brief moment when she realized she was passed over yet again by Ladybug for the chance to help save the day, hurt and anger had filled her. That if Hawkmoth had sent a butterfly after her that maybe… MAYBE for a second, she’d take his offer.

At least, he thought she could be of some use.

It wasn’t fair, Chloe remembered stomping her foot as jealously filled her. Why didn’t Ladybug pick her? She was so much better than all those other stupid heroes! So much better than that mangy Chat Noir even. Queen Bee would be a much better partner. If she could just prove it!

And that suddenly it was like a lightbulb went off above her head, the kind you only see in cartoons. A smile spread over her face.

The dark butterfly that was headed her way suddenly changed its course.

Yes, Chloe had thought, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll prove it. I’ll show them all. I’m a hero. And I’m going to save everyone!

She could be better.

She would be better.

(And once she did, maybe Ladybug would think so too)

Nevertheless, even if Ladybug never knew. Chloe would. She would know she did the right thing because it was the right thing to do; no other reason. That would be enough for her. Even if it meant she’d never be Queen Bee again.

Chloe was going to prove she was a hero after all. With or without the mask or magical powers.

The world thought she wasn’t redeemable. Well, she was going to show the world what a real redemption arc looked like.

The first thing needed to do was plan. Hawkmoth was too strong. He needed to be brought down fast before he becomes unbeatable. Ladybug was perfect but she was still just a kid. She needed more help.

Outside help. Chloe knew there were other superheroes out there. The Avengers. The flash and his team in central city. Superman and his superfam in Metropolis. The Teen Titans. The Justice League. But to beat Hawkmoth would take stealth. It took intelligence. And people used to dealing with total nutjobs in costumes. Heroes who could help finally crack the mystery of who Hawkmoth was.

Paris needs the Batfamily.

Which means Chloe was going to Gotham. But she wouldn’t go alone. She needed an Ally, or preferably Allies.

Chloe decided to figure out who was who on the best board of life.

The first was easy Ladybug was the White King; a true, just, and kick-butt hero. Chloe made herself the Queen; because whether Ladybug knew it or not, Chloe had just become her strongest protector. (She only just manage to argue against making Chat Noir a pawn; instead named him a Knight.) Sabrina, though had some major insecurity, was a good friend of Chloe. She was smart enough not to fall for Lila’s fool’s gold.

Sabrina had learned at the heel of her father when it came to detective work. She had mastered computers thanks to her mother who was a high-level computer programmer. She knew self-defense since her parents shoved her into Karate when she was younger. The redheaded was organized to the point of being OCD. She was loyal to a fault.

With a little confidence, Sabrina could be a real asset to Team Ladybug. And she would be. Chloe just needed to show that she trusted the redhead, believed in her.

Chloe wished she could bring Adrien in but he was a civilian with the backbone of a twizzler. He was too forgiving and to sheltered from the real world. It had worked in her benefit before, otherwise, he’d have dropped her as a friend a long time ago. But things had changed. Chloe needed friends who would stand up against her not just threatened to not be her friend anymore. It wouldn’t do any good in the long run after all.

Hawkmoth was the Black king; pure evil. The Peacock shrew was his Queen. And, Chloe decided, Lila was his bishop. The sausage haired was a manipulative, rancid, liar. And from what she had seen of Lila’s akumatization, the Italian girl was fully in control of her actions. Which meant Lila was working with Hawkmoth willingly.

And since Lila was the only bad guy she could give a real name for, Chloe decided she would be the key to bringing down Hawkmoth.

Thus Lila Rossi became public enemy number one.

Lila was dangerous in a way hawkmoth couldn’t be. She lied and twisted minds with no powers whatsoever. She turned nearly all of Bustier’s class into untrustworthy minions. They should’ve been White; on the side of good. But they had proven to be disloyal and easily influenced. The class couldn’t be trusted.

They had turned against the one person even Chloe had a hard time not deeming a Saint.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Chloe strongly disliked the girl, mostly out of envy. The blond didn’t need therapy to know that she wanted what the bluenette had; a mom that adored her, a dad that actually tried to help and not just throw money at any situation, sheer talent, and pretty much the instant admiration of almost anyone she met.

However, she was also strong and fierce. Marinette was a force of good hard to reckoned with. Chloe needed all the help she could get.

Which meant recruiting Dupain-Cheng for the cause.

That might prove harder than getting Batman to help out.

When Chloe and Sabrina showed up at the bakery and politely asked to speak with Marinette, she was given a suspicious look by Marinette’s mother (Sabel or something, Chloe couldn’t remember). Still, she called her daughter downstairs.

Marinette walked into with a bright happy smile that quickly faded when she saw Chloe.

“We need to talk, Marinette,” Chloe forced herself to say the other girl’s first name. “Its an emergency.” Sabrina nudged her. “Please.”

It was obviously the shock of Chloe saying please that got Marinette to take them up to her bedroom.

Marinette tried her best to smile, “So what’ s the emerg-” Chloe cut her off.

“We’re going to Gotham to recruit Batman and his fam,” Chloe told her. “To help Ladybug bring down HawkLoser. You coming or not.”

The bluenette just blinked.

Sabrina winced at her best friend’s lack of tact, “What Chloe is trying to say is… We could really use your help. Ladybug could use your help. Everyone likes you. You can convince Batman to come.”

“…Why?” Marinette asked after a moment of silence.

“Ladybug needs help!” Chloe told her. “Chat Noir throws tantrums all the time. Hawkmoth has the Peacock and Lila at his deposal. Ladybug hasn’t called in Rena or Caraprace in almost a year, so there has to be a reason for that. She needs help! She needs us!”

The Asian girl nodded slowly, “I mean, why come to me? Why help Ladybug like this?”

Chloe frowned, “Because you always do what’s right; the good, noble thing even if it’s utterly ridiculous for you to do so. I’m doing this, helping, Ladybug, because she needs help. I’m a hero, no matter what anyone says or thinks. And Heroes help.”

The bluenette looked at the two girls. They had been a thorn in her side for years. But she always thought they could change. She believed they could. And coming to her, Chloe archenemy, was proof that they were changing. “What’s the plan?”

The blond smiled. “Sabrina managed to outline the patrol routes for the batfamily.”

“They switch who does what route but there is a predictability to it,” Sabrina added. “The idea is to force a confrontation. I’ve gathered evidence to show them so they could understand the gravity.”

“My job is to get us,” Chloe said. “You have plenty of time to come up with one of Disney motivational speeches to get them on board. We leave for Gotham tomorrow.”

It was after midnight. Three girls stood on top of an old condemned building in the heart of Gotham; dressed in black, shivering from the cold.

“By my calculations,” Sabrina said. She held a computer under her arm. “At least two of the bats should be by monitoring the area during this hour.”

“And we’re sure this is going to work?” Marinette asked.

Chloe smirked, “Oh yeah.” She took a deep breath and screamed. “AHHHHHHHH!! Help!! Help! Someone please!!” She gave a fake sob and fell to the ground; causing Marinette to jump back in shock. She looked up at Marinette and Sabrina with a wide grin on her face, “How was that?”

“Become an actress,” Marinette told her. “Let me design the dress you wear when you accept the Oscar.”

There were two loud thuds behind.

“What’s going on?” A tall hero they recognized as Nightwing asked.

“We heard screams,” Red Robin stated.

“Its go time,” Chloe told them as she got up.

Sabrina nodded firmly as she opened up the laptop and started quickly.

Marinette smiled at the heroes, “Hi. My name is Marinette. This is Sabrina and Chloe,” She motioned to her friends. “We’ve come from Paris to seek the aid of Batman to stop a supervillain that has been terrorizing our city.”

Red Robin stepped forward, “A supervillain? In Paris?”

“We haven’t heard anything about it,” Nightwing said. “We know there are heroes there that takedown small-time villain, But nothing too damaging that we’ve seen.”

“Hawkmoth possesses people,” Chloe hissed. “Turns them into monsters. Turns kids into monsters. Literal Babies into monsters. A girl who can control the weather and could end the world. Another who absorbed energy from people so she could travel back in time. Until the people she steals energy from will freeze and slowly disappear. A man with the power of the Egyptian gods and tried to revive the dead. A villain who could trap people in pictures. Another that can bring people the worst nightmares to life. How about one that caused most of the citizens of the city of Paris to drown. One man caused all that happened. Our city gets destroyed over and over again. People die over and over again. Hawkmoth is behind it all.”

Sabrina turned her laptop to them, and show the video they clipped together. “This is a news real, videos sent from regular smartphones.” The video showed proof of the fights, the monsters, the deaths, the damages, the terror. “Check any new channel centered in Paris. It will show you. This. IS. Real.”

Marinette fought the urge not to tremble as she remembered every villain she fought. “Ladybug fixes the damage the akuma causes; including bringing people back to life. But the people who die still remember. Ladybug can’t do this alone anymore. Even the help of Chat Noir isn’t enough. If Hawkmoth gets what he wants, it could be the end of everything and everyone.” It hadn’t been for a long time, she thought bitterly. Chat Noir loved the glamor and excitement of being a hero but it was like he never really felt the burden of the weight of Paris on his shoulders like she did. To him, it was all game. Or some stupid action movie. And he was too busy trying to get the girl to realize that they might not be able to save the day.

The bluenette looked hard at the heroes, “We need help. I know it’s not your city. I know you don’ have to care. I know you have your own villains and problems.” Tears burned in her eyes. “But we wouldn’t be here if we had other options; if we could handle it by ourselves. So We’re asking anyway. Will you please help us?”

Two identical horrified looks were on the batkids’ faces. Dick and Tim looked at the three kids, thousands of miles away from home, in the middle of the most dangerous city in the world, at night, to beg for help against what sounded like an undeniable monster. The teen girls were scared, near hopeless, and willing to ask for help from Batman and his family, heroes most civilians were too scared to even cross paths with.

Their situation was dire. Direr than the risk of being three, alone, beautiful, teenage girls in Gotham.

The other bats had been listening and or watching the conversation and were equally horrified. But that quickly gave way to fury.

“Red Robin, I want the intel off Sabrina’s computer,” Batman growled. “Oracle, I want everything you can find on Hawkmoth. We’ll start preparing to leave for Paris”

“On it,” Barabra stated. “I also brought up info on the girls. They’re all clean. Sabrina’s dad a cop. Marinette’s an all-star student, who has quite a few famous friends. Chloe’s the daughter of the Style Queen and the Mayor of Paris.”

“I get to kill Hawkmoth, right, B-man?” Jason asked. “I mean, I’m watching a video where he turned a crying baby who literally just wanted a lollipop into Gigantitan and used him to terrorize people. That’s gotta be a free pass on the killing thing.”

There was silence. No answer from Batman.

“Holy shit, are you considering it?” Jason asked stunned. “Kids really are your Achilles’ heel.”

Nightwing nodded. Batman always had a soft spot for kids. But even Dick was considering beating Hawkmoth to death. “Batman has agreed to help.” He told the girls who visibly sighed in relief as weight had come off them.

“May I use your laptop?” Tim asked the redhead. Sabrina nodded quickly and handed it over.

Nightwing observed the girls, “What else can you tell us about Hawkmoth?”

“No one knows his identity, obviously?” Chloe rolled her eyes. “His Allies include another villain named Mayura, identity unknown. And a civilian named Lila Rossi.”

Sabrina still couldn’t believe Lila stooped so low. “We have evidence that she has been willingly working with the known terrorist Hawkmoth and has allowed herself to be akumatized multiple times.” She pushed up her glasses. “She’s in our class. She has been lying and causing emotional distress to multiple students, increasing Akumas.” Lila had always caused the near break up of Ivan and Mylene, Nino and Alya, and for several friendships to nearly be destroyed. It was awful. “We think she will be the best way to finally snuffing out the villain. She has some connection to him we’re trying to figure out.”

“Suspects?” Damian asked in comms. “Stop being obtuse. We need to know who they suspect.”

“Robin, you shouldn’t be on the comms,” Batman reprimanded. “It’s your day off. Relax.”

Tim nodded, “Any leads on Hawkmoth’s identity.”

“Just one,” Marinette admitted. “A man named Gabriel Agreste. But we ruled him out after he was akumartized.”

Chloe snorted, “That’s stupid.” She said. “If Ladybug’s cure can heal the damage of an akuma, including what’s inflicting to her and that Alley Chat; there’s no logical reason, Hawkmoth can’t use his own powers on himself. To think otherwise, would be ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.”

Sabrina agreed, “Or he could’ve gotten Mayura to use it. I mean Ladybug and Chat Noir switched before. Why couldn’t they?”

Red Robin nodded, “That’s a good point. We’ll investigate him further.” He told them. “How much are you involved?”

The girls shared a look. Chloe stepped forward proudly, “I was the Hero, Queen Bee.”

“No!” Marinette said strongly. “She is the Hero Queen Bee; a loyal friend and ally of Ladybug.” She swallowed hard as she fought the nervousness. Tikki and her had talked about what would happen next. Chloe had proven herself as far as two were considered. The blond deserved a real chance to prove she what type of hero she could be.

Marinette took a deep breath and reached into her bag and pulled out a necklace and a hair comb that Chloe recognized instantly. A series of emotions flashed over the blonde’s face; recognition, understanding, disbelief, envy, embarrassment, frustration, acceptance, and then finally a look of admiration.

“Here,” She handed the comb to Chloe and the necklace to Sabrina. The kawami’s floated out.

“My queen,” Pollen purred as she landed on Chloe’s shoulder. The blonde looked ready to cry.

Trixx spun around Sabrina’s head, “Kit. I have new Kitt!”

The batfamily was just confused.

Marinette straightens up, “Chloe for your show of loyalty, for your dedication to justice, and for your willingness to help from shadows; I name you an official and permanent member of the miraculous team. Keep moving forward. Keeping bettering yourself. I believe in you. And I welcome Queen Bee back.”

“Wha…” Nightwing said only to be cut off by Chloe

She yelled, “Pollen, Buzz On!" And before they’re eyes, she transformed into the hero Queen Bee. “Eat your heart out, boys,” Chloe smirked at the stunned heroes.

Marinette giggled. She focused on Sabrina who now realized exactly what was about to happen. “Sabrina, when Chloe brought you, I didn’t know what to expect. It turned out you had spent months researching and gathering evidence. I didn’t there was proof Lila was working with Hawkmoth willingly, you did. You saw through the lies and deception to find the truth despite the danger it could bring you. Which why I give you the kwami of Illusion.”

Sabrina shakily put on the necklace. Trixx patted her head, “Now say, Trisx let's pounce.” The redhead did as she was told as was instantly transformed into a fox themed hero. Unlike Alya, Sabrina’s look was grey and a startling silver. It was more like an actual combat uniform.

“Truth is neither right nor wrong,” Sabrina stated. “It's not good or evil. It's not light or dark. Truth just is. I am Renarde Gris.”

Marinette smiled and then said, “Tikki, Spots on.” And was transformed into Ladybug. Her suit was different; darker and better armored. “I am Ladybug.” She told the bats. “And I thank you for help.”

Nightwing opened and closed his mouth repeatedly.

Red Robin just pinched his nose, “Did you just make a civilian into a superhero just like that?”

Ladybug tilted her head innocently, “Why? Isn’t that how batman got you?”

Jason snorted, “She ain’t lying.”

“You were trained before going into the field,” Batman corrected. “You all were. But let’s focus, Ladybug is a child!”

“You’re just a kid,” Nightwing said. “You’ll all just kids.”

Sabrina crossed her arms, “Weren’t you the first Robin? And didn’t you start at like ten-years-old? At least we’re teenagers.”

“And we don’t dress like traffic lights!” Marinette and Chloe snapped together, to their surprise, and then high-fived with a laugh.

Red Robin examined Ladybug in a new light, “You’ve been protective Paris for three years.”

“Alone?” Damian growled in their ears. “Father, you said I was too young. I am the same age as them. I demand to be treated befitting of my status.”

Ladybug shrugged, “The current Robin has protected Gotham on his own many times. He’s even led Teen Titans on missions. He has proven as I have that age is meaningless in the pursuit of justice. “

Nightwing shook his head, “You’re just kids. Robin is just a kid.”

“Tell me, what bothers you more?” She asked. “The line of children that followed in your footsteps. Or that current Robin is better than you ever were.”

“…I love her.” Damian said. “Father, I love her and I will marry her.” It went quiet. “Red Robin, tell her of my affections. Superboy wants Chloe’s number. Spiderman requests Sabrina’s. I still don’t understand, why, you thought a ‘kids’ game night’ was necessary, father?”

Batman just sighed.

Tim cleared his throat, “Robin would like to, uh, court you.” He said. “Superboy would like Queen Bee’s phone number.” He could wait to tell Conner that Jon had a crush. “Spiderman request Renarde Gris’.”

The girls all blushed prettily.

“Then he can hero up and ask me himself,�� Sabrina smirked in a way that made Chloe proud.

“Same,” Marinette said with a smile. Chloe nodded in agreement.

“…We’re on our way,” Damian said into the comms.

The sigh that answered that statement clearly belonged to Bruce.

#ml fic #marinette dupain cheng #ml salt #Chloe deserves better #chloe bourgeois #A little bit of Adrien Salt #maribat #daminette

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geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde · 3 years

Text

Bardic Buns

Hello all! I’ve been teasing a collab on discord for a few weeks now and I’m happy to say it’s time to start posting!

This is part one of the Hallmark AU! The subsequent parts will be posted over the next few days and I will link them here when they are!

Part two - Picture Perfect Aiden/Lambert by @jaskierswolf

Part three - Talk of the Town Triss/Eskel by @thecomfortofoldstorries

The AO3 Collection is HERE

Massive shout out to @fontegagrilledcheese for coming up with the brilliant idea and letting us run wild with it, it’s been a ton of fun!

Summary: Jaskier’s super star life wasn’t all he had anticipated but maybe opening a bakery in a small town and flirting with a diner owner will help him find what he’s missing. (Geraskier, Rated E, 5.9k words)

Warning: smut, blow jobs, hair pulling, nothing too out there just your standard smut. And some horny bits leading up to a threesome. Inappropriate behavior in a bakery kitchen.

Jaskier stared up at the brand new sign, a bright smile on his face.

Bardic Buns.

A year ago, if someone had told Jaskier that he would open a bakery in a small middle of nowhere town, he would have laughed.

And yet, here he was. Standing in front of his own bakery, smiling up at it happily, the thrill of it warming him despite the bitter cold nipping at his nose.

It was strange, thinking about how he had gotten here, everything he had been through. He had finally achieved his dream, his music was on the radio, his name was in lights, he was headlining his own tour, it was everything he had ever wanted.

But it was too much.

Every day that he woke up, he dreaded getting out of bed a little bit more. The idea of dealing with his band, his manager, his fans, was unappealing. His beloved music had become a chore, something to avoid.

It had to change.

So, he had finished his tour and cancelled everything else, used his savings to buy a bakery somewhere small and out of the way. A few trusted people knew how to get in contact with him if they needed to but otherwise this would be his fresh start.

“Fuck!”

Jaskier grunted as he lifted the oven door off of the floor. It had seemed to be in good condition until he had tried to open the door and it had fallen right off of the hinges. Hopefully, there would be some sort of repair service in town that could get it fixed so he wouldn’t have to go through the trouble of buying a new one.

Every day he seemed to hit another obstacle in his endeavor to open the bakery, first a small electrical fire -that had absolutely nothing to do with him- and then he had found evidence of termites, and now his equipment is falling apart. He sighed deeply, looking at the oven door now laying on the ground. Nothing else had dampened his spirits and this wouldn't either.

Groaning, Jaskier looked at the clock, realizing he was running late for lunch. “Fuck.”

Jaskier’s first day in town he had met Triss, the owner of the local inn, the Wisteria, and the two had made fast friends. She would be at the diner across town waiting for him now. She was a terrible busy body and would be sure to know someone who could fix his oven.

Walking into the small dinner located at the center of town, Jaskier’s eyes flitted around the room until he finally spotted Triss seated at a small table next to a window. He hurried across the room, opening his arms wide as he approached the table. Triss smiled as she noticed him, hopping out of her chair and meeting Jaskier with a hug.

Finding someone he could be so companionable with so early in town had made a world of difference for Jaskier. As excited as he had been, he had been nervous too, scared he might not like being here, might not make any friends. But Triss had waltzed into his life one day and decided she was there to stay and Jaskier would have it no other way. He hadn’t had many friends he could count on in the last few years, his budding success making him paranoid that people only wanted to be around him for his fame. Thankfully, no one here seemed to recognize who he was, or at least they didn’t care enough to mention it.

Jaskier and Triss settled down and looked over the menu, chatting idly about their day. Triss eventually waved to the young girl behind the counter, catching her attention. The girl hurried over, a pen and small notepad in hand.

“Ciri, sweetie!” Triss greeted warmly, “How is school going?”

The girl, Ciri, smiled back, “It’s going well, Triss. Thanks for asking.”

“I’m glad to hear it! Have you met Jaskier yet?” Jaskier smiled at the girl as she glanced at him.

“No, I haven’t. Hello, I’m Ciri.”

“Hello. Lovely to meet you.” He responded awkwardly, meeting new people had never been Jaskier’s forte.

Triss continued on, “Jaskier just bought the old bakery.”

Ciri’s eyes lit up, “Oh neat! I was so sad when it closed. I’ve really missed being able to get pastries. My dad can’t bake to save his life.”

Triss let out a snort, “Oh that is an understatement.”

Ciri laughed, “Are you two ready to order?” They rattled off their orders quickly and Ciri headed back to the kitchen.

“She was nice.” Jaskier commented lightly, glancing out of the window to watch the snow fall slowly.

“She’s a wonderful kid.” Triss agreed.

“Oh,” Jaskier directed his attention from the window and back to Triss, “before I forget, it turns out that the bakery wasn’t in quite as good condition as it appeared. Is there a good repair service you use at the inn? I need my oven fixed before I can open up.”

“Oh absolutely! Geralt can fix anything.” Triss waved at Ciri again, getting the girl’s attention. “Ciri,” Triss began as the girl got closer, “is Geralt in the back?”

“No, he’s out on a fishing trip with Eskel.”

Triss raised her eyebrows, “Another one?”

Ciri shrugged, “They should be back tonight. Do you want me to have him call you when he gets in?”

“No thank you, sweetie! I’ll just give him a call tomorrow.” Ciri nodded at Triss and walked away, heading back to the counter.

“Who is Geralt?” Jaskier asked.

“Ciri’s dad, he owns the diner.”

“And does handyman work?”

Triss smiled happily, “There’s no one else I would trust!”

Jaskier stared at the text message on his phone, not quite sure what it meant.

“Coming for the oven at 3”

Maybe Triss had contacted the handyman for him? Jaskier dialed her number and let it ring. She picked up quickly, “Hey sweetie!”

“Hey Triss, sorry to bother you. Did you talk to that handyman for me? I got a weird text.”

Triss gasped, “Oh did I forget to mention? Geralt will be there! And I gave him your number. He’ll get you all fixed up in no time!”

“Thank you, Triss. I truly appreciate it!” They hung up after a bit more chatting and Jaskier looked around the kitchen. He let out a sigh and set to tidying up, hoping he had enough time to make the place somewhat presentable before Geralt arrived.

Jaskier stared wide eyed at the absolute god of a man standing in front of him. His shoulders were broad, and his waist was trim. His eyes were the most unusual shade of amber and his hair was a striking ashen blond.

He was beautiful.

He was wearing faded jeans and a flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up displaying his forearms. Forearms that Jaskier most definitely wanted to lick.

“Did you have an oven that needed fixing?”

Jaskier cleared his throat, directing his gaze back to the man’s face, “Yes! Thank you for coming out.” Jaskier turned around and motioned for Geralt to follow him, leading him back to the kitchen. “I had no idea what to do once the door fell off,” Jaskier said, nudging the door where it sat propped up against the oven. “Will you be able to fix it?”

Geralt grunted and picked up the door, flipping it over and examining the hinges. “Yeah.”

“Oh! Good. Well, I’ll leave you to it, I suppose. Just uh… let me know if you need anything. I’ll be out front getting everything set up. I’m trying to open by the end of the week you know?” Geralt had turned around, his back now facing Jaskier and he seemed to be ignoring the other man’s rambling. Jaskier let out a deep breath, “Right, well… thanks again.”

And with that, Jaskier scurried from the kitchen. Why can’t I keep my cool around attractive men instead of turning into a total goob?

A couple hours passed and Jaskier had managed to rearrange all the tables and chairs to his liking. His newest dream of owning a bakery was so close. He never would have guessed he would be here but now that he was, he wasn’t sure he could think of anywhere else he should be. Looking around with a proud smile on his face, Jaskier headed back into the kitchen. The first thing he saw was the oven, now in one piece and looking cleaner than before. Frowning, Jaskier looked around the kitchen for Geralt. He quickly spotted Geralt’s flannel shirt, lying on the counter.

Moving further into the kitchen, Jaskier finally noticed Geralt, lying on the floor, the upper half of his body hidden in the cabinet under the sink. “Uh… hello?” Jaskier said tentatively.

“You have a leak; I’ll have it fixed in a minute.”

“Oh… okay.” Unsure of what else to do, Jaskier leaned against the counter and studied the pair of legs in front of him. They were long and clearly well defined, the thighs were thick and muscled and Jaskier wanted to ride them. So caught up in his own head, Jaskier was startled when Geralt suddenly moved, shifting forward and out from under the sink.

Jaskier felt his brain short circuit.

Muscles. Shiny, wet muscles.

Jaskier watched as Geralt stood up, his biceps flexing when he pushed up off the ground. Jaskier’s mouth felt dry. Geralt’s undershirt was soaked, sticking to his body in a truly sinful manner. Before he realized what he was doing, he had reached a hand out, primed to touch. It wasn’t until he saw his hand almost make contact with Geralt’s pec that he registered the movement. He pulled his hand back as if it had been burned.

“Uh… sorry.” Jaskier sounded breathless.

Geralt grunted, “Do you have a towel?”

“Towel! Yes. Towel, I can get a towel!” Jaskier rushed out of the room and hurried upstairs.

Holy shit. Geralt was even more gorgeous without the flannel than he had been with it. Jaskier never would have expected the owner of a diner to be cut like a statue. Jaskier took a steadying breath and headed back downstairs, towel in hand.

Entering the kitchen, Jaskier found himself to be moving on autopilot, approaching Geralt swiftly and reaching out with the towel, starting to pat at Geralt’s arm, still damp. A large hand came up to cover Jaskier’s, making him freeze.

Oh shit. What was he doing?

“I’ve got it, thanks.” Jaskier nodded dumbly, releasing his grip on the towel.

Geralt quickly patted himself dry and ruffled his hair with the towel. Jaskier felt all the air leave his lungs as he watched Geralt grab hold of the wet shirt clinging to him and yank it over his head. Jaskier was certain his jaw hit the ground.

Geralt looked over at where Jaskier was standing, open mouthed, “What?”

“I think I’ve seen this in a porn once.”

Geralt lifted his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side.

Jaskier froze, feeling heat rush to his face as he realized what he just said. “No! I mean... I didn’t mean… I just… It was just that uh…”

As Jaskier babbled, Geralt slipped on his flannel shirt and slowly did up the buttons, still watching Jaskier blabber on pathetically, “I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear! It’s just not every day that there’s a really hot, wet, shirtless man standing in your kitchen wearing a toolbelt.”

Geralt crossed his arms in front of him, “The oven door is fixed and the pipe under the sink shouldn’t leak anymore. Part of it was shattered, that’s why I’m soaked. Luckily, I had a replacement part on me. There’s still more work that needs to be done in here, though.”

“Uh… okay?”

Geralt slid a piece of paper down the counter toward Jaskier, “I made a list of what needs to be done and you can go from there.”

“Uh… thanks?”

Geralt grunted.

Jaskier’s hands were shaking as he picked up the paper and glanced over it, “So… what do I owe you?”

“Nothing.”

Jaskier looked up sharply, “Nothing?”

Geralt shook his head, “I owed Triss a favor. We can talk pay if you want me to fix the rest of the stuff on the list.”

“Oh… okay. I’ll text you?”

Geralt nodded and picked up his wet shirt and toolbox, walking out of the kitchen.

Jaskier was unsure how long he stood in the kitchen, staring at the puddle on the floor where Geralt had been standing.

Holy shit. His brain had completely malfunctioned, he truly had no idea what had happened. Not only had he shoved his foot so thoroughly in his mouth it came out the other end, but Geralt had still offered to come back and keep fixing things. He had even made a list. How odd.

Never one to look a wet, shirtless, probable sex god in the mouth, Jaskier looked over the list again, this time more thoroughly. It all seemed reasonable and any excuse to get Geralt back into his kitchen seemed like a good one to him.

Three days. Jaskier had had three days to figure out how to compose himself. And now he was ready, he had a plan for how to deal with seeing Geralt again, how to keep from losing his head this time.

There was a knock on the door.

Jaskier hurried over and swung the door open, ready to remain cool and casual, plan in mind, and promptly forgot everything.

There Geralt was, looking like something straight out of an indecent magazine. His jeans were tight, riding low on his hips, he was wearing another flannel, this time totally unbuttoned and showing off the white undershirt he had on, tucked tightly into the band of the jeans. His hair was pulled back into a low bun, prominently showing off the undercut he was sporting.

After an uncomfortable amount of silence, Geralt finally spoke, “Am I allowed in?”

Jaskier let out a small squeak, realizing that he had frozen again. He backed up, allowing Geralt enough space to enter the bakery.

“So, will you be able to open this week?” Geralt asked, looking around the room. Jaskier had spent a considerable amount of time cleaning in here and making everything shine like new. The display case was empty, but the glass was clean and shiny, ready to show off his sweet treats.

“Yes! I should be open by Saturday if all goes well.”

“Hmmm…” Geralt glanced around the room one more time before making his way toward the kitchen, Jaskier following close behind.

“So how much of the work will you be able to get to today?” Jaskier was almost dreading the completion of the list and not having a reason for Geralt to be in his kitchen.

“All of it.” Geralt responded as he unpacked his tools.

Damn. “That’s awfully fast.”

Geralt hummed, “That a problem?”

Jaskier felt flustered and leaned back against the counter to help balance himself, “No! Not a problem at all, I just didn’t expect it.”

Geralt was standing a few feet away, watching Jaskier silently. “Is… something wrong?” Jaskier asked hesitantly, worried he had already managed to ruin things.

Geralt shook his head, “No. Do you want to go out sometime?”

Jaskier inhaled sharply, choking on air and quickly falling into a coughing fit. He recovered soon and accepted a glass of water from Geralt, taking a small drink and clearing his throat. “Sorry about that, you just surprised me.”

Geralt stared at him silently.

“It uh…” Jaskier hesitated before continuing, “sounded like you were asking me out. Like on a date.”

“I was.”

“Oh.”

Geralt frowned, “You can say no.”

“No!” Jaskier shouted frantically. Geralt’s face closed off.

Oh shit.

“Ahhh fuck that’s not what I meant! I meant no to saying no because I didn’t want to say no.” Jaskier yammered.

Geralt’s brow furrowed.

“I want to!” Jaskier nearly screamed, “To go out with you. On a date.”

Geralt smiled back at Jaskier and in that moment, Jaskier knew he would do anything to bring out that smile as often as he could.

They decided on Friday evening for the date. Geralt would have someone that could look after the diner and it would be Jaskier's last night before opening up the bakery.

They met for a nice dinner at one of the fancier restaurants in town and the evening went quickly, the conversation flowing incredibly well considering Jaskier hadn't been able to string two sentences together the day before.

"Do you want dessert?" Jaskier finally asked as their night began to wind down.

Geralt hummed lightly as he looked over the dessert menu, "I want something but none of this sounds great."

"Well, what do you want?"

"Nothing, I suppose."

Jaskier laughed, "Geralt, I own a bakery. I can make us whatever dessert you want."

And so, it was decided. The two made the quick walk over to Jaskier’s bakery, Jaskier chatting happily the whole time.

Jaskier quickly ushered them inside and led the way back to the kitchen. Opening the pantry, Jaskier looked inside for inspiration, "So do you have any idea of what you want?"

Jaskier turned around and let out a small gasp, surprised to see Geralt standing only a couple steps away. "Would it be too forward of me to say I want you for dessert?"

Jaskier sucked in a shaky breath, meeting Geralt's gaze. After a moment, he took a step forward, "No, I think that would be just forward enough."

Geralt's eyes darkened as he closed the distance between the two, settling his hands on Jaskier's hips. Jaskier's hands wrapped around Geralt's neck, the fingers of one hand threading through Geralt's hair. "Jaskier, can I have you for dessert?" Geralt's voice was low and husky, sending a shock wave of want through Jaskier.

"Please," Jaskier whispered.

Geralt pulled him forward, slotting their bodies against one another just as Jaskier used his grip in Geralt's hair to pull his head closer, pressing their mouths together. The kiss was wanting and desperate, Geralt wasting no time licking his way into Jaskier's mouth.

Jaskier groaned into Geralt's mouth, rolling his hips against Geralt's, making the other man pull Jaskier against him even tighter.

Jaskier pulled his mouth away from Geralt's, throwing his head back and sucking in a deep breath, suddenly feeling very lightheaded. He tried to catch his breath as Geralt mouthed a trail of hot kisses down his neck, their hips still pressed together tightly.

Jaskier let out a whimper as Geralt sucked on the spot just behind his ear. "What do you want, Jask?" Geralt asked, his breath tickling Jaskier's ear. Jaskier's hips jerked forward. If he hadn't already been rock hard, that would have done it.

"Fuck," Jaskier breathed out, groaning again as Geralt laved his tongue against Jaskier's pulse point, "your mouth, I want your mouth."

Geralt guided Jaskier away from the pantry and backed him up against the counter, his mouth never ceasing the attention on Jaskier's neck. Slowly, Geralt pulled back to look at Jaskier, his eyes were blown black, his lips red and glistening from working over Jaskier's neck.

Fuck. Jaskier didn't know how he would survive this night. But what a way to go.

Geralt dropped to his knees, his hands coming up to cover Jaskier's, holding them in place around his neck, one still threaded in Geralt's hair.

"You're so beautiful," Jaskier breathed out, earning a smirk from Geralt. Jaskier gave an experimental tug to Geralt's hair once he had moved his hands back to Jaskier's waist, making Geralt moan loudly.

It was Jaskier's turn to smirk. Good to know.

Geralt leaned forward, rubbing his nose along the bulge in Jaskier's pants. "Fuck!" Jaskier cried out at the sensation, the visual of Geralt on his knees in front of him nearly overwhelming him.

Geralt smirked again before dragging his mouth up the length to settle near the button on Jaskier's jeans.

No. He wouldn't.

Holy shit he would.

Jaskier stared in astonishment as Geralt tugged the button free with his mouth before dragging the zipper down with his teeth. Geralt wasted no more time after that, using his hands to release Jaskier, giving his length a few strokes, drawing another breathy moan from Jaskier. Finally, Geralt leaned forward and licked a strip up Jaskier's cock from base to tip, circling the crown and paying special attention to where precum was beading at the tip.

Jaskier whimpered and pulled slightly at Geralt's hair, drawing a low moan from the man. "Are you just going to tease me?"

Suddenly a wet heat wrapped around him, making him throw back his head in ecstasy. Geralt bobbed his head a few times before finally pushing forward, taking Jaskier's entire length and swallowing, his throat contracting around the head of Jaskier's cock.

"Fuckfuckfuck. Geralt! I'm- fuck!" Jaskier whimpered, frantically pulling Geralt's hair with both hands. He was already so worked up; he wouldn’t last long like this.

Geralt moaned again, Jaskier's cock still down his throat, the vibrations shooting pleasure through Jaskier's body. He pulled at Geralt's hair again as he spilled down the man's throat.

Geralt pulled off slowly and rested his forehead against Jaskier's hip. Jaskier ran his hands through Geralt's hair gently, "Give me a moment and I'll return the favor."

"No need." Geralt's voice was wrecked, even more gravely than normal.

"I insist."

Geralt hummed and pressed a kiss to Jaskier's hip before responding, "No I…"

Jaskier looked down, taking in the sheepish expression on Geralt's face and the wet spot on the front of his pants.

Oh fuck that's hot.

"Well…" Jaskier started, "how about we go upstairs and shower? I think we could both use one."

Geralt's eyes shined as he nodded enthusiastically.

The grand opening of Bardic Buns was a big success and by Sunday night Jaskier was thoroughly exhausted.

Just as he was about to close up for the night, he heard the jingle of the bell over the door. Jaskier stuck his head out of the kitchen to see Geralt standing just inside the entrance. Smiling brightly, Jaskier walked out into the shop to greet the man. The two had been texting ever since their night together and they had even scheduled another date for Tuesday night. "Hey you! This is a surprise. I'm about to close up so if you want, we could- Oh! Hello, Ciri!"

The young girl smiled brightly, "Hello Jaskier! I didn't realize you were friends with my dad." Ciri had come in once already that day and once the day before, nearly buying him out of his lemon tarts both times.

Geralt grunted, "I helped fix some things in the kitchen… we've become friends."

"You should have mentioned!" Ciri exclaimed, walking over to the display case. "Jaskier?" She asked sweetly.

"Yes, dear?"

"Do you have any lemon tarts left?"

"I do, in fact, have one left," Jaskier said, reaching into the shelf behind the display case, "and it's all yours. On the house."

Ciri beamed back at him, "Thanks, Jaskier!"

"Now don't go telling others, I don't need them knowing I'm playing favorites."

Ciri giggled, holding out her pinky for Jaskier to lock his with, "Your secret is safe with me."

Ciri spun around to look at Geralt, "Are you ready to go?"

Geralt shook his head, "Go on home, Ciri. I want to take a look at the sink and make sure the pipe I replaced is still good."

"Okay dad, I'll see you later."

Geralt pressed a kiss to Ciri's temple and she waved to Jaskier before heading out of the door.

Jaskier smirked, "Need to check out my pipe, huh?"

Geralt shot him a wry smile, "Just wanted to make sure we were still on for Tuesday."

Jaskier smiled back, "I am very much looking forward to it."

"I'll pick you up at eight?"

"It's a date."

Geralt glanced over his shoulder at the door and then moved in quickly, pulling Jaskier in for a kiss. "I'll see you Tuesday."

"See you Tuesday."

The date went wonderfully, much to Jaskier's delight, and ended exactly how he had hoped- in his bed.

Jaskier was laying on his side, pillowing his head in Geralt's pecs, lazily tracing patterns onto the man's chest. "This night went well."

"Hmmm."

Jaskier was more smitten with the man with every grunt, "Would you like to stay the night?"

"That sounds nice." Geralt began running his hands through Jaskier's hair, massaging the scalp beneath.

"Hey!" Jaskier said excitedly, remembering a question he'd had earlier in the night but had been too distracted to ask at the time, "where did you learn how to do that thing with your tongue?"

Geralt snorted, closing his eyes and settling more comfortably against the pillow behind him, "Eskel."

"Eskel?" Jaskier asked, trying to place the name. "Wait. Eskel the firefighter?" Jaskier thought back to the small electrical fire he had caused while messing with some wiring in the bakery his first week in town. The fire department had responded quickly and the view Jaskier had been treated to had been truly delightful, certainly worth the embarrassment of starting the small fire.

"Yeah," Geralt responded lazily, still playing with Jaskier's hair.

Jaskier sat up so he could look at Geralt, "You dated?"

"No," Geralt opened his eyes to look at Jaskier, "we're friends. We fool around sometimes."

"You… currently still fool around with him?"

Geralt hesitated, "Not since we went out but before that… yeah."

"Oh."

"If you uhh… aren't okay with it, I can-"

"No! We never agreed to be exclusive." Jaskier was still trying to reconcile the idea of the beautiful man in front of him with the absolute hunk of a firefighter he had met his first week.

"Right." Geralt sounded uncomfortable in his response.

"Not that I would mind!" Jaskier reassured.

Geralt was quiet for a moment before responding, "You wouldn't?"

"No. Would you?"

"No."

Jaskier’s heart was racing, the thought of being in an exclusive relationship overwhelming, "Oh… so… can I call you my boyfriend?"

Geralt smiled, "Yeah… that sounds nice. And I'll let Eskel know we're off and-"

"You don't have to." Jaskier interrupted.

"What do you mean?"

"Uhhh…" Jaskier turned bright red as he tried to think of a way to explain, "nothing. Forget I said anything."

"Did you like the idea?" Geralt’s voice had deepened.

Jaskier's breath hitched, "What idea?"

"Of me and Eskel."

"Oh. Well… you're both very attractive men and… I just… I mean…"

Geralt hummed consideringly, "You know, he might be interested."

"Interested in what?"

"Joining us one night." Geralt’s answer was so straightforward, Jaskier could almost pretend like his boyfriend didn’t just suggest a threesome out of nowhere.

"Oh." Jaskier felt weak.

"I could ask him… if you're interested."

Jaskier licked his lips at the thought… he was more than interested.

Jaskier gasped as strong hands gripped his hips from behind and lips pressed to the side of his neck. His eyes slid shut as the lips traced kisses higher, up to his jaw.

"Eyes open, Jask. Look at me." The voice was deep and demanding, making his eyes snap open.

Geralt sat in an armchair in the corner of the room. His shirt was off and his pants undone, resting low on his hips. His hand was rubbing at the growing bulge Jaskier could see through his boxers.

"Are you going to put on a show for me?" Geralt asked, his eyes trailing over Jaskier's still clothed body.

Right then Eskel nipped at Jaskier's ear, making him whine and roll his hips back into Eskel's, his ass rubbing firmly against Eskel's hardness.

Fuck he feels big.

The sensation of Eskel's hands and mouth exploring him with the view of Geralt, palming his erection through his clothes, was intense. Jaskier let out a loud whimper, his breathing heavy.

"Geralt, don't tease him," Eskel admonished softly, sliding a hand down to stroke Jaskier's cock through his too tight pants. Jaskier sagged back against Eskel, helpless to the lust thrumming through him.

Jaskier watched through half closed eyes as Geralt stood, stripping from his remaining clothes, and walked up to Jaskier. He moved his hands to the hem of Jaskier's shirt, "How about we get rid of these clothes?"

Jaskier nodded quickly, nearly losing his balance as Eskel stepped back from him. Two pairs of hands removed his clothes deftly as he gripped Geralt's shoulders to stay steady. As soon as he was naked, Geralt pressed their bodies together and pulled Jaskier in for a filthy kiss.

Geralt's hands slipped around Jaskier and grabbed his ass just as Eskel slid up behind him once more, now naked, his cock settling between Jaskier's cheeks. Eskel's hands circled Jaskier, thumbing his nipples as his mouth began its path back up Jaskier's neck.

Geralt broke their kiss, "Are you ready, Jask?"

Jaskier nodded and suddenly found himself lifted and tossed on the bed, the other two men now hovering over him, their expressions predatory.

Oh he's so ready.

That one time with Eskel turned into a second and then a third until one night Jaskier and Eskel were lying in bed, still catching their breath while Geralt went to grab water.

"Is everything alright, darling? You've seemed a bit distant tonight."

"Yeah, I'm fine, Jask. Just been feeling a bit lonely." Earlier in their arrangement this statement might have made Jaskier anxious, worried that he had stepped in the middle of an unrequited relationship, but he was more confident now that Eskel and Geralt's relationship was strictly platonic, with a side of fantastic sex.

"Has it been a while since you've been out with someone?"

Eskel paused before answering softly, "Since before I got these," he gestures to the burn scars marring one side of his face.

Jaskier traced the scars softly, "Maybe it's time to put yourself back out there."

"Who would want me with this ugly mug?"

Jaskier scoffed, "A ton of people I'm sure. Considering how incredibly handsome this ugly mug is and how wonderful the man wearing it is."

Eskel smiled softly, "I'll think about it, Jask."

Jaskier wouldn't rest until he'd found someone who would love and appreciate Eskel the way he deserved.

A few more weeks passed and Jaskier was getting worried.

He and Geralt had been together for nearly a month but they had still mostly kept their relationship quiet, Geralt more likely to call Jaskier his friend rather than boyfriend, and Jaskier was positive Geralt hadn't mentioned the true nature of their relationship to his daughter.

Geralt hadn’t dated in a long time, not since Ciri was much younger, and he wasn’t sure how to go about talking to her about it now. Jaskier understood of course, and supported Geralt’s decision but… it had been a month, and Ciri wasn’t a child anymore.

It was starting to wear on Jaskier, so he decided it was time for them to talk about it.

Jaskier would be going over to Geralt’s later that night and it would be the perfect time to bring it up.

Jaskier wanted to enjoy the date, he really did, Geralt cooking him dinner was a wonderful treat, but all he could think about was how the only reason he had been invited over was because Ciri was staying the night with a friend. He was happy with Geralt, could truly see himself falling in love with the man, but he couldn’t be the dirty little secret.

The couple made it through dinner, Jaskier quieter than normal.

“Jaskier?” Geralt asked as he picked up their plates to take to the sink.

Jaskier hummed quietly, his eyes focused on the table in front of him, “Yes, dear?”

“What’s wrong?”

Jaskier wanted to talk to him, to tell him his feelings, but the idea of rejection was too much to bear, “Nothing, darling.”

“Jaskier.”

Jaskier huffed, letting his anxieties take over, “Oh fine, I was planning on being a bit more tactful but here, I hate that you don’t take this relationship more seriously. It seems like I don’t even matter.”

Geralt looked stricken, “What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? Geralt you won’t introduce me as your boyfriend even though you claim that’s what we are! You won’t tell Ciri about us. What am I supposed to think, Geralt? It seems like you… you’re ashamed of me or something.”

Geralt seemed shocked, opening and closing his mouth a few times before responding, “I’m not, I swear I’m not. Jaskier I’m happy with you. Happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

Jaskier deflated, “Then why are we a secret?”

“We aren’t… I just… I’m not comfortable with…” Geralt sat down heavily in a chair. “I don’t know how to do this, and I was afraid that if we told everyone… there would be more pressure. We’re happy now and I don’t want to ruin that.”

“But Geralt… I’m not happy,” the look on Geralt’s face at his words made Jaskier ache but he needed Geralt to understand, “darling, I think I love you, but I can’t be a secret, I can’t be hidden from your family and your friends. If we are going to be in a relationship then I want to be able to scream it from the rooftops, not have to hide in a closet if your daughter comes home early.”

Geralt was staring at his hands, his eyes glassy with unshed tears, “I… think I love you too. And I don’t want you to feel unwanted. I do want you and I want us to work. I was just… scared.” Geralt looked up suddenly, meeting Jaskier’s gaze, “We can tell everyone. Tonight, tomorrow, whenever you want!”

Jaskier laughed lightly, feeling relieved, and stood to walk around the table, stopping just in front of Geralt. Jaskier placed a gentle hand on Geralt’s face, the other man leaning into the touch, “Tonight, darling, I simply want to enjoy you.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

Geralt was pinned to the bed under Jaskier’s weight, with Jaskier lavishing his bare chest with attention. Geralt had just let out a filthy moan when they heard the bedroom door swing open.

The pair shot up, staring in horror as they realized Ciri had just walked in. She was standing just inside the door frame, a look of shock on her face. Just as Geralt went to say something, she turned around slowly and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

“Well…” Jaskier was blushing bright red, “I suppose we don’t really need to tell her we’re together anymore.”

Geralt rubbed a hand over his face, “No, I suppose we don’t. I should go apologize to her.”

After making themselves decent, the couple headed out into the living room where Ciri was sitting. Before either could say anything, Ciri spoke up, “I really don’t want to talk about it, if that’s what you’re planning on trying to do.”

They both nodded.

Ciri eyed Jaskier curiously, “Does this mean you’ll be spending Christmas with us?” Jaskier looked at Geralt, unsure of how to answer.

Geralt reached out and wrapped an arm around Jaskier’s waist, “That would be nice. Jaskier, would you like to join us for Christmas?”

Jaskier smiled so large his cheeks ached with it, “I would.”

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chocoluckchipz · 3 years

Text

The Other You - 19

Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad

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Marinette had never been so close to committing homicide before. She’d gladly solve this issue peacefully, but it looked like there was no other way of dealing with Adrien Freaking Agreste. Letting him help her was a huge mistake. Why was she such a pushover? Damned puppy eyes. Adrien’s should be illegal. They were like a lethal weapon, those things on his face. And that stupid sexy smile of his! An army would lay down their arms and surrender at the sight of Adrien’s smoulder.

“Tikki!” Marinette hissed. “I need to let off some steam. Spots on!”

Wind in her hair, Ladybug ran across the rooftops, the setting sun bringing up an unwelcome reminder. She should be back home, sharing dinner with Chat Noir right now, not trying to escape her own weaknesses. It wasn’t her fault, though—Chat had somewhere else to be tonight.

Stupid cat! This wasn’t even the first time he’d bailed on their dinners after the reveal. Not that he was of any use when he was coming over. Distant, suddenly shy for no reason, avoiding any physical contact. He wouldn’t even hug her now, much less kiss. What was wrong? Was it her? Did she do something? Why was he suddenly less affectionate with her than when they used to be just friends?

She stopped, her breathing ragged. Holding onto the nearest chimney, Ladybug forced a sad chuckle, pushing down the knot in her throat.

No.

He still loved her. He was just working on that thing he needed to do before he could reveal himself to her. That was it. There was nothing wrong with anything. She had no reason not to trust Chat. They’d been partners for a decade now and did he once lie to her?

Ladybug closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Everything would be alright. Once the show was over in less than a week, Adrien would stop coming to her studio. Hopefully, Chat Noir would resolve his issue by then and would start treating her more like a lover instead of whatever was going on between them now. That would surely help her get over her stupid feelings for Adrien which shouldn’t have happened in the first place!

She was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

She was the freaking Ladybug, the superhero of Paris!

She should have better self-control than this! She should’ve stayed away from that man in the first place! It was probably some genetic disorder or something to fall for Adrien Agreste the moment she spent more than ten minutes in the same room with him. There had to be some kind of medicine for it if that was the case.

Ladybug sprinted. She needed that tightness in her chest to vanish. Those butterflies in her stomach must be massacred. Her mind should be focused on running, not on the chiselled body of her boss. His perfect smile. His gorgeous eyes. His stupidly funny jokes… He’d flirted with her on multiple occasions! There was no denying that.

What was his deal???

What was he hoping to achieve? He said he wanted to be friends again, nothing more. So why the heck was he showering her with compliments? Why the hell was he kissing her hands and bringing her little presents every so often? Why did he pay her so much attention, and why did he have to be so perfect? Why couldn’t Marinette concentrate on her work the moment Adrien came into the room?

Why in the world hadn’t she told him she wasn’t single yet???

Why didn't Chat Noir evoke the same reaction in her? He was her freaking boyfriend! She should be swooning over him. She would be if that mangy cat gave her any encouragement, instead of pulling away at the slightest hint of attention from her. He had yet to kiss her since the reveal and, to be honest, Marinette was growing impatient. She needed his affection. She craved his touch. The intimacy of his embrace. The heat of his lips on hers. She needed Chat to make her feel special, loved, and cared for. She didn’t ask for much…

Her eyes zeroed on a figure in the window. Ladybug looked around in confusion. How did she end up in front of her workplace? Why was there a single lit window in the building on a Saturday night? Why was Adrien Agreste in that window, hunched over his desk, working on something she couldn't quite make out? Most importantly, why couldn't Ladybug walk in and ask him what his intentions were towards her civilian self? It wasn't like he knew her identity, but if she was careful, she had a chance to find out why he was behaving the way he was. Maybe, there were no ill intentions on his side and it all was in her head.

Logic forgotten, all caution cast aside, Ladybug swung her yoyo and landed on the sill of Adrien’s office window a moment later. He looked at her, his eyes widening, lips stretching in a smile soon after.

“Ladybug?” Adrien stood and rushed to open the window for her. “What brings you here?”

“Nothing in particular.” She came down to the floor without taking his offered hand. “I was just in the neighbourhood and noticed a lone light on in the building. And then saw you and thought, why, look who is it? Adrien Agreste. Haven’t seen him in ages. I should probably stop by and say hello. So, hello, Adrien. How are you? What have you been up to these past few years? What are you up to now?”

Adrien laughed, his eyes sparkling with joy. Or were those tears?

Ladybug pressed her lips in a thin line. How dare he look so—so… Ugh!

“Sorry.” He seemingly tried to compose himself, the sweetest smile on his lips. So soft and warm, it lit up the room.

She couldn’t look away. Those lips of his were probably just as soft as his smile… She wondered… But she was in her costume. There is no way she’d feel anything even if she touched them.

Crap!

Her eyes wide, heat spreading on her cheeks, Ladybug turned away. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I did burst in uninvited with a ton of questions.”

“You’re always welcome here.” Adrien gave her another of his signature, lethal smiles. “Thank you for stopping by. Can’t blame you for being curious. The last time we saw each other was quite a long time back. What’s it been? A few years?”

“Since you moved away from the mansion, I think.”

“Oh, yeah. Long time,” he echoed, gazing into her eyes.

Ladybug stilled, recognizing something. Mischief lurked behind that warmth in his eyes. Something darker, something that made her toes curl and her stomach tighten, was hiding behind that innocent light of his. She swallowed and forced herself to look away.

“So, what have you been up to?” she asked, walking to his desk. Mostly to get some space between them.

“Nothing spectacular.” Freaking Agreste followed her! “Graduated from a university. Physics and Education majors. Found work at a high school. This spring, inherited this disaster of a fashion empire. Currently trying it out for summer.”

“Trying out?”

“Yeah.” His hand rubbed the nape of his neck. “I want to see which line of work appeals more to me before making any decisions regarding my future.”

“And what are you thinking as of now?”

Adrien shrugged. “Honestly? I think Gabriel’s growing on me. When I first came here, I was ready to sell it that same evening. But then a friend helped me out, and it went easier from there. Right now, I’d say, I’m kind of enjoying rebuilding this sinking ship into the great company it should be. Not whatever my father led it into.”

There was her perfect opening. “A friend?”

Freaking Agreste dared to smile so sweetly she almost got diabetes. He didn’t even look away when letting her civilian name slip his lips in the most reverent fashion.

“Marinette. You know her, right? From Tom and Sabine’s bakery. Black hair, gorgeous blue eyes, beautiful smile. Just as fiery and brave as you are.”

She’d let all the compliments slide for now for the sake of sniffing out the info she needed. She simply nodded. “I remember Marinette.”

His smile got smug all of a sudden, eyes sparkling with glee. Adrien grabbed a string of beads off his desk and showed it to her. “Look. This is a lucky charm I made for her. Her first line will be presented next week, so I wanted to support her in any way I can. Not that Marinette needs luck because her collection is amazing, but we exchanged lucky charms back in school and I thought it was pretty neat. I still have the lucky charm she gave me, but I wasn’t sure if she still had hers. So, I decided to make her a new one. What do you think?”

Holding her breath, Ladybug picked a string of beads off Adrien's palm. Instead of the blue and yellow palette of his old lucky charm, this one was done in different shades of pinks and greys that sparkled and shimmered under the lights. A much more elegant and sophisticated job. No fashionista in Paris would ever be embarrassed carrying a lucky charm like this in her purse.

“You… made this… for Marinette?”

“You don’t like it?”

“No! No, it’s gorgeous,” she rushed to assure him because, Adrien or not, when it came to style and taste, a compliment was due where it belonged. “I’m just amazed. You do have an eye for fashion, Adrien. The colours and shapes… they all blend so well together.”

He chuckled nervously. “Thank you. But it's only because of the extensive bead collection I have access to here at Gabriel that I was able to pull this off. Pretty sure it would’ve been a different story if I were to go bead shopping myself.”

“That’s why you’re here on Saturday night? To make this for her?”

“Yes,” Adrien sighed so dreamily, it sent pleasant shivers up Ladybug’s spine, tingling at the tips of her fingers. “I wish I could do more for her. Marinette deserves so much more.”

Freaking Agreste!

Her heart pounding, Ladybug ignored the rising pain in her chest. “Why?”

“Why what?” He looked at her in confusion.

“Why would you do this? The last I remember of Marinette, she was an ignorant, career-obsessed workaholic who couldn’t care less about her friends and family. I heard she pushed away everyone close to her—including her best friends. I heard she’d become cold and self-centred. She’d hurt everyone she knew. Why are you doing this for her?”

“Because I’m in love with her.”

Wind punched out of her lungs, Ladybug froze. Her legs gave way beneath her, and the only reason she didn’t crumble to the ground was because she was able to quickly lean on his desk.

“Because everything you just mentioned,” Adrien continued, “Was a result of my father’s presence in her life, not her character. It was partially my fault as well. I left her here alone. I knew Father would chew her up and spit her out, yet I still walked away. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for that, but I’ll spend my life trying to earn her forgiveness.”

“But it’s not like she cared for your opinion or help—”

“That doesn’t matter,” Adrien interrupted. “I should’ve tried harder.”

Marinette bit her tongue. She said more than Ladybug should’ve known. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice.

“You should visit her now,” Adrien continued. “My Father’s been out of her life for only a few months and she’s back to being her amazing self.” He grabbed his cellphone and opened one of the pictures he’d snapped of her today at lunch. “Look how beautiful she’s become. Can you see how happy she is? That smile? The light in her eyes? And when she works with her designs… Ladybug, you should see her then! Marinette just transforms. I’ve never seen anything like it. She’s such an inspiration in those moments. I mean, I’m starting to love this job only because of her, because of how fun and easy and interesting she makes it look.” Pausing for a moment, Adrien let a goofy smile run free on his lips as he whispered, “I didn’t even notice how or when I fell in love with Marinette, but it feels so natural loving her. And I know that after everything I’ve done, I probably don’t have much hope of her returning my feelings, but I don’t care. I love her enough to do whatever it takes to make her happy. Even if it’s as just a friend.”

He fell silent for a moment, his eyes focusing on her picture in his cellphone. He ran his finger across the image and whispered, “Doesn’t mean I’m not hoping for more or that I won’t try my luck, but that’s a different story for a different day.”

Dumbfounded, Ladybug stared at Adrien in shock. Her heart pounding in her ears, she swallowed back the desire to kiss the man senseless. Her fingertips ached to touch him. She forced herself to stay still. His name slipped her lips. He looked at her, but Ladybug closed her eyes and bowed her head, inhaling deeply.

You have a boyfriend! Get a grip!

You have Chat Noir who loves you. Her sweet, caring, and amazing Kitty who deserved her love more because he’d waited faithfully for years. Yes, Chat was beyond weird at the moment, but he still loved her. She still loved him! And she would never cheat on him.

“I’m sorry. I have to go,” she whispered and sprinted out of that office, running as fast as she could back to Chat Noir’s apartment where she could swaddle herself in Chat Noir’s blanket on Chat Noir’s bed and forget all about Adrien Agreste.

***

Marinette only had to survive a few more days. Her show was on Wednesday, and most of the work was done. Realistically, she could easily skip going to work on Monday but there was no way she’d do that. What if something went wrong at the last second? Adrien and her now undeniable feelings for him or not, Marinette couldn’t risk compromising the collection she worked so hard for.

However, acting as though nothing had changed between them… she couldn’t do that either. Surviving the day in the man’s close proximity while being attracted to him like he was made of the finest, most delicious dark chocolate was hard enough. Knowing he was in love with her added a whole new dimension Marinette would rather forget.

None of the countless akumas that she’d defeated over the years had ever given her such a struggle as her own heart at that moment.

There were no options, though. Chat Noir was her choice and Marinette had come up with the perfect plan to win this battle. All she had to do was to stay away from Adrien to not give this… whatever it was between them a viable chance to grow. With time, he would get over her. After all, Felix was right—Adrien was hot, handsome, rich, and famous. There were bound to be a swarm of pretty girls on his trail soon enough to distract him from a lowly designer struggling to get a grip on her life. Once that happened, Marinette would have no choice but to forget about him. Hopefully with Chat Noir’s help.

Unexpected aid in her quest came in the face of Alya, who by some miracle secured an ESMOD exam for Marinette at the end of the week. Judging by the ton of material Alya dropped for Marinette to review, it promised to be an extensive and hard test, but if Marinette were to pass, she’d obtain her fashion degree without going back to school. That gave her the perfect excuse to decline Adrien’s company on both Monday and Tuesday. She had studying to do and time was scarce. He understood and left her alone, but not before giving her the lucky charm he’d made. Marinette accepted it, but only because he had done a really impressive job and she didn’t want Adrien to suspect anything.

Wednesday couldn’t come soon enough. Marinette was wired from the get-go, barely sleeping the night before. During the show, with all the chaos behind the curtain, she barely had time to notice anyone as she ran around, making sure her collection was at its best. It was only at the After-Show Gala that she saw him again.

In all his stupidly handsome glory, Adrien looked calm and collected as he mingled with people, no doubt basking in the praise that both men’s and women’s lines brought him as the company’s CEO. A few people congratulated her as well, but Marinette barely paid attention, skillfully maneuvering the room to avoid Adrien at all costs. She would’ve gone home, but as the main designer of the newest addition to Gabriel, she had to stay for at least a few hours before escaping. And escape was what she wanted more than anything. She still had dinner with Chat Noir to make, and she’d better get herself together before then.

Half an hour before her planned retreat, Marinette slipped out to the balcony. Being generously large, it was more of a terrace with breathtaking views of the city for visitors to enjoy. She crossed to the railing and leaned against it, surveying the skyline. The sun had just set, giving way for the city to come alive with lights. It sparkled and shimmered, mesmerizing her. The low hum of the noise off the streets and muffled sounds of chatter and music from the party behind her, Marinette closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She was almost there. Thirty minutes and she could escape. Tomorrow, Adrien would go back to the main office, and she would be able to focus on her relationship with Chat Noir without worrying about the emotional despair of having fallen for another man.

“Marinette?”

She cursed under her breath, hopefully silently enough for him not to hear it.

“Getting some fresh air?”

Mentally facepalming, she turned around with the most awkward smile on her face. “It was way too stuffy inside.”

“Tell me about it.” Adrien smiled at her, coming to stand by her side. He leaned on the railing next to her, his eyes never leaving hers. “I believe I haven’t congratulated you yet. All of your hard work paid off—a smashing hit of a collection and a few offers for distribution on my desk already. As of now, you’re the hottest asset of the day.”

“Really?” She tried her best not to show Adrien just how much he affected her, standing so close. He had no right to be so… so perfect and sexy and handsome and… those kind, warm eyes of his…

Marinette bit on her lip, looking away. Adrien had always looked impeccable, but there was something about him at this moment that made her knees go weak and made those stupid butterflies stir in her belly. Was it the way he looked at her? Or perhaps his flawlessly put-together look? Or was it the knowledge of his feelings for her that made her want to kiss those lips of his?

“What do you think?”

Marinette blinked in confusion, looking back at him. She probably should’ve listened to what he was talking about all this time. “Um… I don’t know?”

An amused smile on his lips, Adrien chuckled. "Well, you have time to think about it, but if you'd like to choose a new assistant by yourself instead of me or HR doing it for you, just let me know. Okay?”

“Sure.” She nodded and scanned the area around them for anything that could be an excuse for her to leave because she had to get away, now! It was probably that small amount of alcohol that she’d drunk a little earlier that was getting to her because there was no way in hell she’d just thought about kissing him otherwise.

“I’m sorry.” She straightened and turned for the exit. “I think I’ll head home now. Exhaustion is finally getting to me. I need some rest.”

Adrien looked disappointed, a moment later stepping closer. “Sure,” he said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Before you go, though, can I ask you for a favour?”

Not wanting to prolong their conversation longer than needed, Marinette simply nodded.

Adrien stretched his hand to her with the most charming smile on his stupidly handsome face and, she swore, he purred. “Can you spare me one dance?”

An enrapturing sparkle in his eyes, his gaze called to her.

Dance with me, Marinette. You know you want to.

The woman could hardly bring herself to say no. Her protest was just as weak as her knees. “We can barely hear the music out here.”

“It’s loud enough for a dance.” He stepped closer, now mere inches away from her, and took her hand in his. “Please? I’ve waited all evening for a chance to dance with the star of the show.”

His touch, though gentle, burned where their skin met. Marinette almost snatched her hand away, but that would be beyond rude and she wasn’t a rude person. “I’m not feeling well enough to dance,” she murmured, averting her eyes to the side.

“Alright.”

Freaking Agreste had the nerve to look like a kicked puppy about to cry!

“But I think I can manage one dance,” she relented.

Marinette swore it was someone else who said that. It couldn’t have been her! But his face lit up, and she didn’t have the heart to upset him again.

“Thank you,” he whispered, gently squeezing her hand in his.

A new melody started to play as if on cue. Adrien lifted Marinette’s hand in his, and wrapped his other one around her waist. She could hardly breathe with how close he was. His body warmth against hers was making her head spin. His breath fanned her face. He smelled of wine and crackers. Perhaps some cheese. She wasn’t sure. Those eyes, deep green and alluring, worked their magic, and Marinette forgot the whole world as Adrien led her around the terrace in a waltz.

It felt like flying. Stepping on clouds, everything long-forgotten but him and how close he held her. His arms, lean and strong, lovingly wrapped around her. His eyes never left hers. A gentle, loving smile on his lips. They smoothly glided across the terrace. Following his lead felt so natural and easy, a moment of pure bliss and serenity. She could easily lose herself in this.

His presence intoxicated more than any alcohol she’d ever had. Paired with the soft music quietly flowing around them, it was a dangerous combination. She didn’t even notice when the song ended. They stood frozen, gazing into each other's eyes. Hers fluttered close as Adrien began to lean in.

Everything forgotten, she held her breath in anticipation when the image of Chat Noir ripped her back to reality.

…

What was she doing?

Marinette pushed Adrien away and stepped back. “I… I can’t…” she whispered and ran towards the door.

“Marinette, wait!” Adrien caught her hand right before she reached the door. “Marinette, I’m sorry. I thought—it seemed like—like you—and I… I’m sorry. I didn’t want to cross any boundaries. I’m so sorry. I just… I’m in love with you, Marinette. Have been for some time. And I wanted to see if there was a chance for me… for us… If you could ever consider me as someone more than a friend.”

She shook her head fervently. Snatching her hand back, she clasped it to her chest, her mouth refusing to utter a single word.

What was wrong with her?!

She almost kissed him!

And she wanted to do so!

She wanted his attention. She was starved for affection, and her stupid boyfriend wasn’t giving it to her while an equally stupid Adrien was eager to take her in his arms. Was she so desperate to feel loved that she almost let him?

“Marinette, please. Say something.”

“I can’t,” she forced out, her eyes searching for anything to focus on that wasn’t him.

“I have a boyfriend!” she shot at the blond, her mind working in overdrive to come up with a reason why she couldn’t be with him. There had to be something that would make Adrien go away. There had to be something that would push him far enough to give her space and time to retreat and build a better defence against his charms.

“And even if I was single, I could never be with you,” she fired angrily in desperation. “Our history—I can’t fully trust you, Adrien, and no relationship can ever work without trust. We can never be together!”

He flinched.

Marinette grabbed onto that as her saving line. “I’m sorry, Adrien. I know you apologized and I swear I forgave you, but there is no unconditional trust anymore. There will always be this doubt in the back of my mind now, whispering that you might betray me or do something behind my back again. We can’t build a healthy relationship on that. No one can.”

His hands fell to his sides. The hurt on his face was too painful even for her to watch, so she turned away.

“I don’t think a friendship would work for us either. I’m sorry.”

Almost ripping the door off its hinges in her desperation to get away before her weaknesses would take over her mind again, Marinette strode into the ballroom swarming with people. Loud music, idle chatter, careless laughs, the overbearing presence of everyone around her attacked her senses.

She had to escape.

She had to get away.

She headed for the door, noticing the bar in the corner of her vision.

She would escape.

She would run away and hide from everyone, but she needed a drink first.

To forget the look on his face.

To dull the wound she just ripped through her own heart.

Next >

#miraculous ladybug #marichat #adrienette #ml #chat noir #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #ladybug #the other you

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champhangman · 3 years

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Recipe for a Perfect Christmas - Part 9

Title: Recipe for a Perfect Christmas Part: 9/12 Theme: Day #9: Tree / Decorating Fandom / Character(s): AEW / Nick Jackson x OFC Warnings: None. A little cursing? Word Count: 4,585 Soundtrack: Spotify Previously: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Summary: In the space of six months, Natalie Gibbs lost her fiancé, her job, her apartment, and what little bit of cheer she had. Moving back home after being on her own for years, she hopes to get back on her feet after the holidays. But a nosy best friend, a stubborn coot of a father, and a handsome new neighbor might change her plans, her holidays, and her life. Notes: My entry for day 9 of @12daysofchristmas

The Tag Crew: @adampage / @cowboyshit / @lilmisswhiskeygypsy / @bigpixiefoot / @mindofasagittaruis / @kalliravenne / @sadlittlecountess / @baronsbelleevangeline / @brie-mode-activated / @xbreezymeadowsx / @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch / @wardl0w / @hotyeehawman / @waywardwrestlewritingwaif / @drewshoneybadger / @mysteryoflovve / @knnyomega / @rampagewriting / @hurricanranabaybay / @linziland13 / @bastardkingbrutalizer / @snarkandsarcasmftw / @rubyred1980 / @champnick / @edgecution / @nething4perfection / (please drop me an ask/send me a message/reply to my post if you’d like to be tagged)

***

Part 9 – Grown A Little Colder

Natalie stared at the long box sitting in the foyer while the UPS driver walked, whistling, towards his big brown truck. Confused, she found enough clarity to shut the front door then turned and continued to stare at the box. Along the side, in bold letters, were the words that told her what the box contained, but she couldn't quite believe it. It was addressed to her father, who hated artificial trees, so there had to be some sort of mistake.

Sighing, she pulled out her phone and checked the time. Just after eleven, which meant he would be leaving the bakery in about an hour. Thursdays were half-days for some reason she had never understood. She wouldn't bother him at work. She would wait until he got home and start questioning him. There had to be a logical explanation. He'd bought it as a gift for someone? He was going to put it up outside? He'd bought it for the bakery – No, that couldn't be it, there was already a tree up at the bakery. She and Kris had decorated the previous day, Kris going so far as to make paper Santa hats to go on the photos on the walls.

She gave her head a shake and pushed the box out of the walkway. Maybe he had bought it because when they'd gone to buy a real tree he hadn't liked any of the ones available. She had thought the plan was that they'd go out to the tree farm outside Fairview and pick one out there. Pushing the boxed tree out of her mind, she went upstairs to get laundry. She was distracted by her laptop, which sat on her old desk mocking her for not opening it but once since she'd gotten to Bells Creek. With a sigh, she picked it up and sat on the bed, ignoring the urge to go to Facebook and take a peek at life in Halifax.

It wasn't as though anyone from there had done more than send her two or three texts in the first couple weeks to see how she was. She had hoped someone would think of her if they heard of a job opening that fit her skills, but either there were none or no one had thought of her. Going to sites with job listings, she began clicking through page after page and grew more and more disheartened. The jobs that were available required more experience than she had, or more education that she'd attained. And all would require her to move to Halifax, Richmond, Charlottesville, D.C., Atlanta, New York…

Did she want to move?

Before she could ponder that question, her phone began to ring. She pulled it out and smiled at the sight of Nick's name.

She wasn't sure she wanted to move.

"Hey," she greeted after accepting the call. "Working hard?"

"Not anymore," he quipped with a chuckle. "I just put in the last strip of baseboard in the master bedroom."

"Really?" The news cheered her. This meant the house was officially finished in time for Matt and Shayna and the kids to move down for Christmas. She knew it would be a wonderful surprise for them, because Nick had said he'd told them it wouldn't be ready until right before New Year's.

"Yep. It's done." He gave a tired, relieved sigh. "I gotta clean and finish getting the decorations up, but it's done. I'll do that today hopefully then surprise them tomorrow when they come down."

"That's great, Nick," she enthused, closing the laptop and shoving it aside. She didn't want to relocate.

"I was thinking…"

"Oh?" she asked when his voice faded and she heard him clear his throat. "You didn't hurt yourself did you?"

"Ha-ha," he muttered.

"What were you thinking?"

"We should celebrate."

"Celebrate what? You finishing the house?"

"Yeah. Maybe dinner? I could cook for you."

"Sunnyside up eggs and toast?" she asked with a grin.

"I can cook more than that," he said. "Nothing fancy."

"I don't like fancy."

"Then I'm definitely your guy." His grin was evident in his voice.

Her guy. She liked that. "Dinner sounds great. What time?"

"You can come over whenever. I'm kinda hoping you'll take pity on me and help me with the decorating."

Natalie laughed. "So dinner's payment."

"And celebration."

"I'll be there in a few hours. Dad will be home in a little bit so I'm gonna make sure he eats a proper lunch and I have a couple chores to do." The laundry mainly. She wasn't sure yet how two people went through so many clothes and towels. Pushing herself off the bed, she went to grab the hamper. "I'll text you when I'm on the way."

After a few more minutes of chatting, during which he hinted that he'd like her to stay for more than dinner, she ended the call and tossed her phone onto her bed. Her steps were light as she went downstairs to start a load of laundry, and she had turned on the old stereo and put on a CD of her favorite Christmas crooners when her father got home. Bouncing into the foyer, she grinned when he shook his bright red knit cap at her in time to the music.

"For I've grown a little leaner, grown a little colder, grown a little sadder, grown a little older," he sang with a nod. "And I need a little angel sitting on my shoulder. Need a little Christmas now…"

She remembered a time when the instrumental break meant he would grab her hands and lead her in a dance. She thought of the appointment made for three days before Christmas, when they would schedule his surgery and run all the necessary preoperative tests. Had she known how to properly pray, she would have prayed that he would be able to dance with her next Christmas. "Hey," she said, moving forward to kiss his cold cheek. "This box came for you."

"Doggone it," he sighed, looking down at the box. "I was hoping it wouldn't come until this afternoon."

"Is it for your second family?" she teased.

"No, I got to thinking…" He took off his coat and hung it up, then reached for his cane. "I don't have it in me to keep up with a real tree this year. Watering and trimming and then dragging it out."

"I would—"

"And, well," he went on, tapping the box with the tip of his cane. "I went to see Tommy the other day and he has one just like this. It's real pretty when it's plugged in and decorated. So I ordered it."

"A fake tree is never coming into my house," she stated. "I'd as soon throw Granny Wilma's old ornaments into the fire than I would have a piece of plastic that doesn't even look like a tree."

"Ah," he grunted with a shrug. "Always got my own words to throw back at me."

"Can we put it up today?"

"You can, I'll sit on the couch and direct."

"I knew you'd say that," she muttered, beginning to push the box into the living room.

Chuckling, he carried the folder he was holding into the living room and set it on the small table next to his chair. "While you get started I'll go heat up some lunch."

"Wait, no, Dad, I'll—"

"I feel good today, sugar."

"Okay," she relented.

She had to move the console table in front of the front window where the tree always went. She had just pushed it into the dining room to deal with later when she heard the microwave beeping. Knowing her father lingered over his lunch if he didn't have to go immediately back to work, she took her time finding places for the knickknacks that had been on the table. The potted plant she carried to the foyer, planning to carry it up to her room later. She put the framed photos of her grandparents on the bookshelf, and carried the small silver-framed picture of her mother to set it on the table next to her father's chair. Reaching into his pencil cup to find the box cutter he kept there, she groaned as several pens spilled to the floor. When she bent to retrieve them her arm brushed the folder, sending it and its contents to the carpet as well.

She shoved the pens back into the cup then gathered the scattered papers. About to push them into the folder, she paused when she saw the letterhead of a lawyer in Halifax. That made no sense. Her father's attorney was based in Fairview. Her eyes dipped and scanned the opening paragraph of the letter.

As per your vocal agreement with my client, Matthew Jackson, during our conference call on November 22, I have had the enclosed contract drawn up. Please peruse at your leisure, and feel free to contact me with any questions. I encourage you to confer with your counsel, Mr. G. E. Jefferson before our meeting to sign, notarize, and transfer the first payment on December 18. I ask that you please note the following points:

Matthew Jackson. Matt. Before she could stop herself, she turned to the next page, heart leaping to her throat at the bolded words that leapt out at her. Her father's name, then Matt's, then Gibbs' Bakery. Struggling to understand, she sat back on her heels and read the page slowly, hand slipping over her mouth to cover her shock as it sank in what she was reading.

Matt was buying the bakery. Not outright, if she understood the wording correctly. Her father was transferring everything into Matt's name after a down payment, then monthly payments of a base amount, a small percentage of sales being added for the first fiscal year. After which time the percentage would be terminated, and the monthly payments would continue until the agreed-upon price was paid in full.

The papers slipped from her hand and she didn't pick them up. Her father was selling the bakery. The bakery, which had been in his family for three generations. The place he had once said he wouldn't close until the day he drew his last breath. She supposed that statement had been true, as it wasn't technically closing. But why hadn't he told her? Why hadn't anyone mentioned it?

"Natalie, sugar, is there anymore of that pie from last night?"

He sounded so normal. As though he weren't effectively ripping her heart in two. As though he hadn't outright lied to her, because hadn't he shrugged off her questions about what business Matt was buying? He hadn't said a word about thinking of selling, and she knew that was partly her fault for not keeping those lines of deep communication open. It hurt, though. It hurt as bad as, if not a little worse, than him keeping how damaged his knee was from her. She had at least known his knee was bad, had known he needed surgery. But to keep this from her completely? To pretend nothing was going on? Why?

Snatching up the papers, she lurched to her feet and went into the kitchen. Her father was at the island counter, dishing up a slice of the pie they'd had for dessert the night before. He glanced up when she sucked in a breath. His brow furrowed, his smile faded, and when he saw what she was holding the pie slice fell to the counter.

"What's this?" she gasped, slapping the papers down across from him.

He looked at them, then up at her. "Sugar—"

"You're selling the bakery."

"I have to."

"Why?" Natalie blinked hard to keep the sting of tears at bay. "Because of your surgery? Because you'll be out for a couple months? I'm here now, remember? I'm not—"

"You're looking for another job. You'll find one. Maybe not right yet, but you will. And you'll get it, because you're brilliant and people like you. And then you'll be gone." He lowered his head. "Again."

"Dad…"

"I'm not doing it because of the surgery. I know it could stay afloat with me having to take weeks off for recovery. I didn't plan on you coming home, but I had talked to Sammy and Kris and they were willing to work longer hours to keep things going until I could get back. And now you're here, and you're doing great. But—" He sighed. "There's no guarantee the surgery will go well."

"Dad, they do millions of joint replacements a year."

"Yeah, but not on my joints. Accidents happen. Doctors make mistakes. Old hearts give out. It's a fact, Natalie."

"Don't talk like that," she pleaded. She couldn't take it. Not right now.

"I'm not being depressing. I'm being honest with myself. Yes, it could go great and next year at this time I'll be dancing on air. But it could go bad. And I'd have to close up the shop."

She opened her mouth to point out that she was with him, that she was helping, that she could obviously do the work needed to keep the bakery running. Then she remembered that she hadn't been at home when those fears and worries had festered in his mind. She hadn't been around when he had made the decision to sell. And he was right. She was looking for another job. And even though she was disheartened, she knew she would eventually find something. She might even leave again, if she had to.

"When you were born, I only wanted one thing for you," he said, haphazardly scraping the dropped pie onto the plate. "I wanted you to be happy. Yes, I wanted to raise you into a baker like me, like my parents were, and my grandparents, and my great-grandparents back in Italy. I knew you would be our only child, and looked forward to the day I could hand the keys to you. But you didn't want that."

"Oh, Dad, I'm—"

"Don't apologize for not wanting what I wanted for you. It was my dream, not yours. You had your own. I knew you didn't want the bakery, and I knew I didn't want to close it down. I hemmed and hawed for months. I couldn't tell Ashley I was thinking of putting it up for sale, because she would have broadcast it over town before I could walk out her office."

Natalie choked on a laugh. Ashley was wonderful, and her truest, best friend, but she did have a bit of a tendency to blab.

"Then one day this young family comes in. It was a slow day, and they were nice, and we got to talking. Matt's always wanted to own a bakery. He and his wife both have always wanted to live in a small town. He knows about running a business, he's got a good head on his shoulders, and he's damned good at baking."

"Is he?"

Leonard picked up a dishtowel and wiped the counter clean. "Him and Shayna came the next weekend and he showed me some of his recipes. After I closed for the day we went to the kitchen and…" His smile was almost one of pride. "He's better than I was at his age. Then they found the Harris place was for sale, and when he showed up to talk to me about getting a job right when I was thinking of calling Ashley to talk to her about selling, I figured it was fate."

"But why didn't you tell me?"

"At first I didn't think you'd care."

"Are you crazy? Of course I'd care."

His eyes steeled. "The day before you moved out to go to Halifax, you said—"

"I know what I said," she whispered. It had been almost ten years but the memory was fresh. Her telling him she'd gotten a part-time job at a magazine, and that she was leaving the next day to get an apartment and have her college transcripts transferred so she could finish her degree in Halifax. Her father asking who he was going to get to replace her at the bakery. And her answer, bitter and cold.

I don't give a damn about the bakery.

"I give a damn now," she said in a small voice. Too little, too late, she knew, but it was true. She did care. She had even then, but she'd been too wired up on the chance to grab her dreams that the words had spilled without censor. Maybe she hadn't cared as much as she did now.

"I have to do it, Natalie." He kept wiping the counter, and she remembered him repetitively kneading the dough he'd been working when she'd announced her sudden move. And the thudding clang when he'd thrown the overworked dough into the trash.

"Who else knows?"

"Tommy. The lawyers. The bank. And a few folks down at the county office, because I went last week to put his name on the license."

"Does Nick?" she asked.

"Of course, he's Matt's brother." Her father stopped wiping. "I thought he would tell you if I didn't."

"He didn't." She wondered why. And, suddenly, she needed to know. Spinning on her heel, she left the kitchen, ignoring her father's voice when he asked where she was going. She went straight for the front door, snatching a coat from the rack and pulling it on while shoving her feet into her boots.

"Natalie."

"I have to go out for a few minutes."

"Don't be mad at him."

"I'm just going to talk to him."

"He's a good man, sweetie. He probably didn't want to get mixed up."

"He should have thought of that before sleeping with me," she snapped, jamming a hat on her head.

"Natalie—"

"I'll be back later. We'll put up the tree." Not that she felt like decorating. Or celebrating. Flinging open the door, she stepped outside and closed it firmly behind her. Fueled by indignation, she ignored the brilliantly colored Christmas flags snapping in the breeze and the vivid red ribbons adorning lampposts and wreaths as she walked up the street. She passed the bakery and felt her heart break all over again. Matt would change everything, she thought, stopping to look at the shopfront. The battered old counter that her great-grandparents had built and installed themselves, where each member of the family had carved their name with a pocket knife. The photos and knickknacks that had been added to over the years, showing how it had changed with each generation. Blinking back tears, she turned and proceeded to the yellow Victorian on Halifax Street.

She barely heard Penny's bark of greeting as she marched up the walk. Stopping short when she saw Nick standing on the porch railing, she watched him stretch out one arm, then caught the multicolored glow of a strand of lights. Something bumped into her leg and she looked down, finally noticing Penny. She gave the dog a distracted head rub, watching as Nick stepped off the railing.

"Hey," he greeted, looking and sounding surprised when he saw her. "What do you think?"

"Looks great," she said flatly, resuming her march up the walk. She saw lights wrapped around the step railings, and saw the sunlight glint off lights in the shrubbery in front of the porch.

"Come on in," he said, opening the door. Penny, panting, darted from her to the door then back again, tail wagging manically, as though Natalie needed an escort. Nick waited until she'd stepped inside before entering, closing the door gently. "Did you forget to text? Not that I'm complaining, but—"

"What business is your brother buying?" she asked, eyes on the stacks of clear bins in the front hall. Each were labeled neatly, and she could see inside to what were countless decorations. Decorations she had agreed to help him put up and arrange. Through the living room doorway she could see a large tree set up in front of the window, and on the couch was covered with boxes of ornaments.

"Oh." Nick's joviality faded.

She turned to face him, anger surging again. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Natalie, let me explain."

"Okay. Explain."

"I knew it was a secret, okay? Matt told me that Lenny didn't want everyone in town knowing. Because there would be a million questions that he didn't want to have to answer every time someone came into the shop."

"I'm his daughter," she reminded him. "You could have told me."

"Exactly. You're his daughter. He should be the one to tell you."

"He didn't."

Nick's brow pinched. "Then how—"

"I saw some papers from a lawyer and…" She huffed. "Okay I knocked them down while getting something then saw what they were. Some contract they're apparently going to sign this Friday."

Nick nodded. "Yeah, Matt wants me to go with him."

"You should have told me, Nick. God, you listened to me go on and on about how I was getting the hang of the bakery stuff. You even let me talk about placing an order for supplies. Supplies!" She groaned, cupping her hands over her head. "Supplies that your brother probably doesn't want or need—"

"Natalie—"

"You knew I was doing everything I could to help Dad! You didn't think to tell me that I didn't have to worry? That by the end of the year it wouldn't be my problem?"

"I thought about telling you. But it wasn't any of my business. It's a deal between Matt and Lenny, I'm not involved."

"Okay, but you're involved with me. That makes it your business," she pointed out. "God, did you have a laugh over how I was staying up late studying paperwork to know what I needed to do while Dad was recovering from surgery?"

"I would never laugh about something like that," he said, frowning. "If anything it's made me admire you more. Because you told me you used to not care about the bakery. That you were so glad to be gone from it when you got your chance to leave. But I've seen how happy helping Lenny makes you. And how happy it makes him. I know not telling you has been eating at him—"

"Yeah, he's been real torn up," she snorted. "I've been such a fucking idiot."

"You haven't," Nick insisted. He stepped toward her.

"I have. I've been losing sleep and getting headaches trying to take a crash course so I could keep the bakery going for him. I've got so many notes on what gets done when…" Jamming her hands into the pocket of her coat, she felt slips of paper and pulled them out. The notes she had made the evening before, on times and temperatures, and how many folds she had done on the croissants. Crumpling them into tiny balls, she dropped them to the floor. "And for what? Nothing. Because in a couple weeks it'll be Matt's job to do it. He'll do everything differently so he won't need my notes. He'll change everything from the name to the prices to how the inside is decorated—"

"He's not changing anything."

"Yeah, right." Snorting again, she stepped away when he reached for her arm.

"Natalie," he sighed. "He doesn't want to change a thing because he loves how it is now. All he wants to do that's different is put a picture of himself on the wall and add a few of his own creations to the menu."

"First it'll be a picture and a few of his things, then it'll be changing the décor and fazing out all the things my Dad created."

"Honey, please—"

"Don't call me that," she gasped. "You and Matt just breeze into town and take everything, don't you?"

"What?" He made a gurgling sound that sounded like a swallowed laugh. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"The bakery. This house. The dog," she said, though Penny had hurried out when she'd begun her ranting. "Me."

"We didn't – Natalie, you're upset."

"Of course I'm upset! Wouldn't you be?" Staring up at him when he didn't answer immediately, she shook her head. "I'm beyond upset. I'm pissed off. Mostly at you!"

"Why me?" he asked gently.

She wanted to scream because he was being too calm. Did the man never get mad? "God, Nick, I opened up to you! I told you things I've never told anyone. And then I slept with you. Right there!" She flung one arm out to gesture at the living room. "And never once during any of that did it occur to you to tell me what was going on behind my back?"

"It wasn't my business to. I knew it would upset you, and I knew it would strain the relationship between you and Lenny. I couldn't do that to you, not when I've seen how hard you've both been working to rebuild it."

"We were building something too," she whispered.

"Were?" he repeated.

"Yeah. Were." She sucked in a breath, fighting the urge to cry.

"Natalie, don't—"

"Not anymore."

"Please, no, let's talk about this," he said, frowning when she shook her head.

"I gotta go," she gasped. She was going to cry. Her throat was closing up and her nose was burning.

"Can we talk later?"

She turned her head, not wanting to see the sadness in his eyes. And she didn't want him to see her cry. Again. "No," she said dully. "I've said everything there is to say."

"But—"

"Goodbye," she managed, pushing past his arm when he reached for her. Opening the door, she flinched when she heard the clicking of Penny's claws on the floor behind her. She pulled the door shut, heart squeezing at the sound of a little whine. She almost turned back, almost reached to open the door and say that yes, she did want to talk about it. Instead, she crossed the porch and went down the steps, keeping her eyes in front of her. When she reached the sidewalk she quickened her steps. She didn't know where she was going, exactly. She wasn't ready to go back home and see or talk to her father. And she couldn't go back to Nick. Tears escaped and she angrily brushed them away, following the sidewalk to the corner. She heard bells ringing, and a car that drove by had a festive bow on its antenna.

She continued walking, head ducked, ignoring the few people that greeted her. When she reached the tiny building down the next block from the bakery, a block from where Main Street turned back into Route 1110, her steps slowed. She saw the familiar Land Rover parked out front and before she could think of a reason not to she pushed open the glass door and walked past the receptionist, who barely looked up from her magazine, and through the open door of the office at the back.

Ashley's face registered several emotions in succession. Surprise, happiness, shock, worry. "Natalie? Babe, what's wrong?"

Natalie opened her mouth but couldn't figure out which words to say first. Her friend frowned, tossing her phone onto the desk and standing. Then she was walking around to where Natalie stood. Reaching to close the door. And when her arms wrapped around her in a loving embrace Natalie let her tears fall.

#aew fanfiction #nick jackson fanfiction #my fics #multipart: RPC #12daysofchristmas #late omg #but better late than pregnant???

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karasunovolleygays · 4 years

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UshiIwa Fic Recs

(that nobody asked for)

Hello! It’s my distinct pleasure to welcome you all to UshiIwa hell! I’ve been malingering here for years, but with new developments in canon, it looks like I am no longer stuck on Gilligan’s Island (me plus the six other sad bastards i’m stranded with).

As a long time sufferer of this ship, I would like to introduce you to some of my favorite UshiIwa stories, including a few of my own bc tag smol. :’)

Rating: G/T

I Lose Control by voices_in_my_head Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, OMC (Coach) Summary: "He looks to the bench, where Iwaizumi’s eyes dance from player to player." Words: 1,538 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: this is an interesting study of how Ushijima would deal with an injury at a crucial moment when everyone is counting on him, plus a dose of priority.

Cordially Uninvited by Karasuno Volleygays (that’s me) Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Possible Current Manga Spoilers, Established Relationship, Paparazzi Summary: Paparazzi haunting notable people has always been a problem, but Hajime and Wakatoshi opt to clear the air on their own terms. Words: 1,279 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: I thought it would be interesting to see how Ushijima would deal with celebrity and subsequently strangers poking their noses in his personal business.

Three Doors Down by Karasuno Volleygays Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Fluff, More Fluff, pretty bara men bonding over dogs Summary: When Ushijima inherited a property that had seen better days, he found himself spending a lot of time and effort in a new part of town restoring the house to its former glory. However, he didn't expect a litter of puppies in a yard a few houses over to revive his spirit, as well.

He certainly didn't anticipate their owner stirring something to life within him, either, but that was a development he didn't need much coaxing to get used to. Words: 13,145 Chapters: 2/2 My notes: I have no excuses for how fluffy this is.

you're good, too quickly admitted by pyrality Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Coffeeshop AU, College AU, Fluff, Getting Together, Awkward Flirting Summary: Iwaizumi sits back in the chair, "Oikawa thinks I could do better."

Ushijima swallows, eyes still on his laptop screen, "And what do you think?"

"I think I'd like to go out to lunch with you sometime."

He looks up at the other boy, feeling warm at the sight of Iwaizumi's crooked, barely there smile, a challenging twinkle in his eye.

"Oh," Ushijima manages before he recomposes himself, "I'd like that.” Words: 2,731 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: UshiIwa dating to spite Oikawa is too good to turn down.

Alight by Karasuno Volleygays Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Time Skips, Rivals to Lovers Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime can't believe his soulmate is the guy who just wiped the floor with his team, but there is no denying the fact that he is irrevocably linked to Ushijima Wakatoshi. Words: 4,504 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: If you’re interested in them getting to know each other through their failures and vulnerable moments, this is probably your jam.

Baby It's Cold Outside by RarePairGremlin Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Winter, Cuddling, light grinding, hints to smut but nothing is described, jaw kiss, Kissing, Fluff, Established Relationship Summary: The childish grin spread over his lips again as he faced them, his gaze roaming up them slowly as an idea formed. Ushijima, ever prepared, was fully dressed in thick socks a pair of blue sweats, which they had tucked into their socks like the crime against fashion they are, and a thick hoodie. He knew for a fact, since he’s stolen it enough times, that the hoodie was fuzzy and soft on the inside. Beside them lay a steaming cup of tea, the bag still steeping inside as they liked their tea strong, and the aforementioned throw lay comfortably across their lap. A perfect image of warm and cozy.

It would be a shame if someone was to disturb that now wouldn’t it? Words: 1,471 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This is exactly what it says on the tin, plus a bonus NB Ushijima!

the ghost in your room by mousecat Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Unrequited Love, Unrequited IwaOi, oikawa is a bit of a dick Summary: Hajime finds a way to get over Oikawa Words: 1,173 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: It’s an oddly pleasurable mixture of fluff and a punch in the throat.

Good Graces by Karasuno Volleygays Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Established Relationship, Arguments, Mending Fences Summary: Hajime is pissed at Wakatoshi for something he admits he did until he finds out the real reason he did it. Then he feels like a jackass. Hopefully, his live-in boyfriend is up for a good old fashioned groveling session. Words: 2,059 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: Making your otp mad at each other is hard and it hurts, but the communication afterward is so important.

lit the very fuse by mousecat Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Getting Together, Unrequited Love, Christmas Eve, Mostly Fluff, ushiwaka is a soft boy, you can never convince me otherwise Summary: Hajime isn't sure what he and Ushijima are to each other, but he knows he's still stuck on Oikawa. Words: 2,609 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: If you like FWB to Lovers, step right up and scream into the void with me.

Once An Enemy. by BGee93 Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Getting Together, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Friends, Aged-Up Character(s), Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Not Beta Read, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluffy Ending, Volleyball, Volleyball Dorks in Love, Volleyball Dorks & Nerds, volleyball mentioned not played, Getting to Know Each Other, Love, Love Confessions, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Idiots in Love, Declarations Of Love, Dorks in Love, Confessions, Enemies to Lovers, Sharing a Bed, Literal Sleeping Together, Coffee Shops, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Coffee, First Dates, Awkward Dates, Aobajousai, Shiratorizawa, boyfriend sweater, Confusion, Cliche, cliches, Awkward RomanceAwkward Meetings, meme team - Freeform, Slow Build, Slow Romance, very slow burn, Sleeping Together, Sleepovers, Bonding, Forced Bonding Summary: 'It took several minutes to catch his breath again and to stop hissing through his teeth at the areas that throbbed, until they were just a dull ache. Once Iwaizumi felt he was able to move again he slid his hands up the strangers chest, ignoring the ripple and twitches his touch caused since the situation was already awkward enough without Iwaizumi appreciating the well toned muscle under his fingertips, as he pushed himself up till he was able to look at the persons face. There was more lighting on the bottom floor, as it was closer to the illuminating street lamps outside, so he was able to make out exactly who the man was within mere seconds despite the face still being quite shadowed. And the identity shocked him into stilling every joint, muscle and fiber of his being.

Oh hell no.' Words: 20,130 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This was written for me as a gift in an exchange a while back. Have I stopped screaming about it? Not bloody likely.

Rating: M

Focus (On Me) by Verbrennung Tags: Underage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ushijima is a 1st year, lots of staring, and looming, and crowding, Seijou!Ushijima, rated for ~makin' out~ Summary: Nobody had foreseen future Super Ace Ushijima Wakatoshi transferring from Shiratorizawa to Aoba Johsai for high school. Everyone's curious to know why, and as Iwaizumi discovers, some of his reasons are... unexpected.

An AU in which everything is mostly the same except Ushijima is a first year at Aoba Johsai and has a huge, looming crush on Iwaizumi. Words: 12,454 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This should probably be rated T instead, but whatever. If you ever wanted to know how much of an awkward bastard both of them are when they’re into someone, this is your jam.

Point Blank by Karasuno Volleygays Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Future Fic, Brief (but pertinent) Mention of Homophobia, Slow Burn, Financial shenanigans, Scary Men with Guns, Minor Character Death Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime accepted a position at a company that was going places, and he knew he had a bright future ahead of him if he just kept his head down and worked hard — a future his family desperately needed him to achieve. He didn't count on an old rival working in the same building, nor Ushijima Wakatoshi's surprisingly cordial demeanor, yet he managed to make an unlikely friend and an even more unlikely roommate.

But when Iwaizumi climbed up the company ladder and into some of the more shadowy recesses of the corporate realm, he knew they would both get more than they bargained for, and the only person he knew he could trust was Ushijima. Words: 44,981 Chapters: 12/12 My notes: This was my first UshiIwa and I still think about it a lot. Imagining these guys in regular jobs is strange, but kind of endearing when you get a feel for how they live their lives after volleyball.

Rating: E

Flare by fish_wifey Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, From dislike to like, Tension, Sex Toys, Anal Sex, Dressing Room Sex, Topping from the Bottom, Orgasm Delay/Denial Summary: Ushijima's forwardness makes Iwaizumi edgy, but after they figure their shit out, it's Iwaizumi who brings Ushijima on edge. Words: 7,687 Chapters: 2/2 My notes: Enemies to lovers speed run ahoy!

Tangled Webs by Karasuno Volleygays (Restricted) Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Black Widow AU, Assassin Iwaizumi, Crime boss Ushijima, alcohol use, Drugging, dubcon elements, Angst Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime is a seasoned killer, with wit sharp enough to cut and reflexes to match. He's never missed a kill. That is, of course, until he meets his new mark — Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Can Ushijima offer Iwaizumi what he truly desires, on top of a night of heated passion that can only end one way? Words: 4,120 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This was some fucked up stuff, but sweet baby jesus it was a wild ride to write.

Unraveled by Karasuno Volleygays (Restricted) Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Bondage, Knife Play, Edging, Rough Sex, Flogging, Breathplay, Toys, Dubious Morality Summary: After his liberation from his past life, Iwaizumi adjusts to life with Ushijima. But something is missing, and Ushijima picks the strangest (and most erotic) way to give it to him. Words: 5,145 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: It’s cute that I thought the first fic in this series was fucked up. This one was clearly more so, but noragerts.

Poly/Multiship ft. UshiIwa

4 AM by ApparentlyAda Rating: T Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, this is so stupid, I'm Sorry, Oikawa and Ushijima talk about dogs, Iwaizumi is Oikawa and Ushiwaka Trash #1 Relationship: UshiIwaOi Summary: "Ushiwaka."

"Yes?"

"What if one day you woke up as a chicken?"

"What if one day you shut the fuck up?", interrupts Hajime groggily.

(Or, simply put, the awful(ly amazing) conversations these three dorks have during sleepless nights) Words: 1,064 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: I hope you like banter and Oikawa roastage haha

Bridge the Gap by FindingSchmomo Rating: T Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Polyamory, Established Relationship, Divorce, Past Child Abuse, Lawyer! Oikawa, Police officer iwaizumi, Flower Shop Owner Ushijima, child kageyama, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Panic Attacks, Anxiety, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Meet the Family, chap 6 is the familys ongoing mission to keep kags hydrated, chap 7 is meet the parents edition, Internalized Homophobia, just a touch of it really Relationship: UshiIwaOi Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime, Oikawa Tooru and Ushijijma Wakatoshi love each other more than anything, but sometimes that’s not enough, especially in a world that doesn’t love them back. Tiny cracks begin to widen, ever so slowly, until the gaps they leave seem insurmountable.

They find their answers with each other, and surprisingly enough, with the little boy loitering outside their window.

—-

Or, a story of disconnects and the love it takes to bridge them. Words: 121,443 Chapters: 18/18 My notes: It’s long with a lot of heavy themes, but if you look at the tags and think you can get through them, it’s so worth it.

a taste of heaven by beatboxbmo Rating: T Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Polyamory, Birthday baking, Cuddles, Established Relationship, Aged-Up Character(s) Relationship: UshiIwaOi Summary: tooru comes home early on his birthday to see his two boyfriends asleep on the couch. they baked him a surprise. Words: 2,141 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This is exactly as warm and gooey as it sounds.

Three's A Crowd by FindingSchmomo Rating: T Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Romance, Comedy, Romantic Comedy, Miscommunication, Dating, First Kiss, a mess, These Boys are a MESS, Chatlogs, Light Angst, Polyamory, OT3 Relationship: UshiIwaOi Summary: Iwaizumi loves Oikawa.

Oikawa loves Iwaizumi.

Neither of them will say anything.

Then, suddenly, Ushijima is there.

And things get very complicated. Words: 32,385 Chapters: 9/10 My notes: Normally I don’t put WIPs on rec lists, but this one is close to completion and it’s so, so worth it. Boys are dumb and you should appreciate them.

adolescence and all its glory by pageleaf Rating: E Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Established Relationship, Developing Relationship, Wooing, Future Fic, College/University, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Fluff, Flirting, Established Iwaoi, eventual OT3, Threesome - M/M/M, Manga Spoilers Summary: Iwaizumi was supposed to meet new people. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do, when you go to a different university from your best friend? Now that his life isn’t filled with Oikawa, he should have been making new friends, trying new things, whatever.

Instead, he shows up barely on time to his anatomy class, hears a small noise from beside him, and turns around to see Ushijima Wakatoshi. Words: 20,024 Chapters: 2/2 Relationship: UshiIwaOi My notes: Accidental rivals to lovers? Enjoy the sound of me screaming into the abyss, and the abyss screams back.

Close For Comfort by Leryline Rating: E Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, NSFW, ushioi - Freeform, really sinful but great, Angst, it has a happy ending i promise, iwaoi - Freeform, Phone Sex, Rough Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Romance, Threesome, Double Penetration, Spitroasting, Bottom Oikawa Tooru, Cheating, but look it's integral to the plot ok, ROMANC E AHGHGNJD it's so gay, turning a oneshot into a multi-chap out of spite: a novel by me, also: don't cheat on people irl my dudes it's not cool. not cool.like legit please DO NOT Summary: Oikawa Tōru has always seen his future with Iwaizumi Hajime - solely, utterly, completely. After all, Iwaizumi is his pillar, the only person he needs in the world.

...right?

[or: Ushijima Wakatoshi comes in and fucks everything up, as usual, but Oikawa has never given in easily, and neither has Iwaizumi, for that matter.] Words:61041 Chapters: 15/15 Relationship: UshiIwaOi My notes: If infidelity makes you uncomfortable, even if it has a happy ending all around, I would pass on this one. The smuts, however, are top shelf.

Privacy by plumtrees Rating: E Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, House Party, Alternate Universe - College/University, Future Fic, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Riding, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Spanking, Partner Swapping Summary: Iwaizumi reaches for the knob by his hip, easily twisting it open and getting them both inside. They stumble in with their lips still sealed over each other’s, silent giggles passing between mouths as Oikawa hurries to flatten his hand against the door to shut it and crowd Iwaizumi against the surface, other hand winding around his waist to pull him close, keep him there—

But then an alarmed noise rips from Iwaizumi’s throat, the hand steady on his shoulder suddenly pushing him away Iwaizumi’s looking behind him, expression a mix of shock and mild horror and Oikawa follows a split second later, just in time for a moan to resonate past the muffled music being carried over from downstairs.

“Oikawa.” Ushijima greets, only the slightest tremor to his voice as Shirabu sinks down on his cock. “Tendou didn’t mention you’d be here.” English Words: 9,736 Chapters: 1/1 Relationship: UshiShiraIwaOi My notes: Good lord this is spicy. This is ‘swinging’ in its truest form.

Show Me You Own Me by preciousghouls Rating: E Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Threesome - M/M/M, Threesome, Rimming, Barebacking, BDSM, Daddy Kink, on oikawa's part, Dom/sub, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasms, Bottom!Iwaizumi, bottom!Oikawa, top!oikawa, top!ushijima, switch hitter oikawa, Established Relationship, Developing Relationship, i have sinned, sleeping drug in five lines, Consensual, Begging, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Petplay, Collars, Cuffs, Butt Slapping, Spanking, Butt Plugs, domestic AU, Crossdressing Summary: It's Oikawa's idea, of course. But Iwaizumi finds himself loving the way Ushijima has Oikawa wrapped around his fingers, and before long they're both moaning at the hands of Ushijima.

aka the kinkiest shit I've ever written in my life. Words: 20,819 Chapters: 4/4 Relationship: UshiIwaOi My notes: Sometimes wanting to be dommed by ushiwaka is a communal mood, ya know?

Tumblr Fics

(mostly not rated/tagged; proceed with caution and at your own discretion)

Untitled by notsuchasecret

Untitled by worthlesspride (this is definitely E)

Untitled by raspberrydevil

Untitled by deathbelle

Comfortable by raspberrydevil Relationship: ushiiwaoi

Morning Kisses by raspberrydevil Relationship: ushiiwaoi

Meet My Nephew by raspberrydevil Relationship: ushiiwaoi

#ushiiwa #iwaushi #ushiiwaoi #ushijima wakatoshi #iwaizumi hajime #oikawa tooru #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #hq!!#hq chapter 395 #hq manga spoilers #manga spoilers #fic recs #haikyuu fic recs

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trickstermiraculous · 4 years

Note

Not sure if I sent this to you. But a class salt prompt. After getting exspelled than told oops a mistake was made you can come back. Only Marinette doesn't and bustier forgets to tell the class she is no longer exspelled and they start to think she did what was said. And the send stuff to her phone and such but for some reason one of her family members have her phone and they are nit pleased

To Marinette’s parents, it was a quick discussion. The school expelled their daughter off the word of one student, not even checking the security cameras but the word of one girl with evidence that can easily be faked and then they suddenly want her back because the girl admitted she lied with another lie to keep herself from getting in trouble.

Enough was enough until they could find another school, one where they did favour bullies who were rich. As soon as Marinette got told she could come back to school, her mother loudly announces that they can clear Marinette’s record but she will not be coming back to school that expells students without a proper investigation.

The problem came that none of the teachers told Miss Bustier’s class that Marinette was innocence so thought she had done it and with Lila continuing to lie about Marinette even with her gone, they started to hate the baker girl.

It had been a month after the Miracle Queen incident and informing her parents about her job as the new guardian and ladybug because of this they decide it would be better for her to be homeschooled as she didn’t have to keep making up excuses to leave class due to an Akuma attack. Although she had been signed up to a gymnastics club and her mother started to teach her martial arts so she was better in a fight and still did some form of PE.

Marinette had been more focused on her school work as well as plans to stop hawkmoth and because of the fact as soon as she left the school it had been clear that her old class was not on her side if the texts she was sent, were anything to go by. So, she had taken to ignoring them but had forgotten to block them so when she had left her phone on the side, she forgot her parents would see the notifications.

Marinette had just gotten done with doing some maths work and came down for a snack when she noticed her mother holding her phone while sitting at the kitchen table. “Care to tell me, why your old classmates are sending text messages calling you a lier, a bitch and other things I rather not say out loud?” Her mother questioned placing the phone down,“I-” Marinette was cut off with a look from her mother,“sigh, none of the teachers informed them that I was proven innocent and Lila has used that to her advantage” Marinette replied sitting down across from her mother, “I know that I should have blocked them but decided that I should at least know what Lila has spread about since when they text me insults, they just happen to tell me the rumour”.

“Hmm, Have you taken screenshots?” asked her mother,“yes” replied Marinette catching onto what her mother was getting at,“This is cyberbullying and slander so would you mind give me those screenshots,” her mother said,“They don’t need to be sued, mum” exclaimed Marinette,“They’re not being sued, it’s called a warning” retorted her mother,“Fine” as soon as Marinette agreed, her phone went off, grabbing her phone she realised it was a notification from the Lady Blog.

“You know what mum, you may actually need to sue Lila and Alya,” said Marinette passing her phone to her mother, watching her mother face change to pure anger as she read the article, “get your father and close up shop, while I contact Miss Green” her mother demanded.

Like every other day since Marinette left the class, everyone was hanging off Lila’s words while ignoring that we were supposed to be working while Miss Bustier was out. The classroom door open, revealing Miss Bustier and an older lady holding a pile of papers, looking very anger at the class.

“Class, if I could have your attention please?” asked Miss Bustier with a nervous tone, everyone turned round to face her with Adrien looking very worried as she recognised the women as her father had hired them before. “This is Miss Green and she needs to talk to Lila and Alya” she continued, “Oh, hello are you here for the young journalist competition?,” asked Alya who looked extremely excited.

“No, I’m not Miss Césaire, I’m here to give you and Miss Rossi, these” Miss Green answered placing to pile of paper in front of the girls, “What are these?” asked Lila rooting through the papers, “Lawsuits for slander against Dupain-Cheng family” the women stated causing an uproar.

“What but why?” demanded Alya, “You wrote an article about their bakery accusing them of buying the products insted of making them like the shop advertised as well as treating other workers like dirt on the sidewalk as the reason why only the family works the shop now” the women explained, “but-” Alya was cut off by Miss Green, “You posted this on the Lady Blog which is used by most of Paris for info about Ladybug meaning most of Paris now thinks these accusations are true”,“But they are” replied Alya,“Oh and where is your proof?” retorted Miss Green,“Lila said-” she was cut off again by Miss Green,“One accuser is not enough proof especially one who is a serial lier that can be provided to belying by a quick google search, you need more people to back this up and physical evidence before you accuse people like this” snapped Miss Green, “you are all luckily they didn’t plan to sue for those texts messages you all sent as it is cyber bullying which is a crime” and with that, she left leaving Miss Bustier to deal with the fallout.

Notes: I'm aware this is my best writing but I did struggle with how to answer this prompt but I hope this is still entertaining. College got shut down due to the virus so since I'm stuck at home, hopefully, I can write more.

Wattpad

AO3

#mlb salt #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfiction #fanfiction #original content #marinette dupain cheng #sabine dupain cheng #alya cesaire #lila salt #alya salt #ask #answered

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jwillowwolf · 3 years

Text

Magic and Miracles - Chapter 8

Sanders Sides Big Bang fic, Chapter 8!

< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter > | Masterlist

Summary: “Not a morning person?”

“Does staying up until five am count?”

“Wh- no! That’s actually a bit concerning. Please don’t tell me you were up until five then only slept two hours before we started walking.”

“I won’t tell you that then.”

Warning/s: food mention.

Characters: Logan, Virgil, OCs, Roman, Remy, Remus, Patton, Janus, Emile.

Tag List: @theimprobabledreamersworld @remy-please-come-back

Read on AO3

8 | Fondness

Logan stared at the ceiling above him. It seemed like just yesterday he had been doing this out of boredom, waiting for when everyone was supposed to tour the manor. He’d been so anxious about what studying here would mean and how he would socialise with his classmates. Now though, they were all his friends, and he found himself mildly amused that he’d ever been nervous about getting to know them.

This room that had seemed so strange before had become home. Everything from the view outside his window to the softness of the bed was as familiar as his room at the bakery. Soon though, this would no longer be his home.

With the upcoming license test, he would officially become a wizard, and therefore no longer need to remain a student. He’d miss being here and having his friends so close. Come to think of it, he would miss his friends greatly too. After the test, they would be returning to their far off homes. Virgil didn’t live very far off, but Logan felt that it wouldn’t be proper for someone like him to be visiting the prince.

In a couple of days, all of Logan’s dreams about being a wizard would come true, yet he would lose the dreams he never knew he had…

“Rise and shine, witches! You’ve got a big day ahead!”

Logan shook his head, as if that would clear it of any unwanted thoughts, and got out of bed. Today he couldn’t be distracted by silly emotions. Remy was sending them on a huge quest to refine their skills before the big test.

At breakfast, everyone seemed excited for the quest. It was going to be an overnight kind of thing and they were doing it on their own. They had all been taught to teleport and a special spell that would summon Remy if the need arose, but they were still going to be doing this entirely independent of any other adults.

“Hey, you okay L?” Virgil asked as they were walking down the hall.

“Hmm?”

“You look like you’re trying to solve the meaning of life.”

“...What?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “You look broody, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is… wrong, per se.”

“Per se?”

“I’m probably just feeling tired from staying up last night studying the notes Remy gave us.”

“Well, hopefully, breakfast lifts your energy, because we have a long walk ahead of us.”

Logan didn't have time to even respond to that as he was tackled to the ground by a hug. "Everleigh? What are you doing here?"

"I came to wish my friends good luck of course! Your dad is here too."

Sure enough, Emile was there in the dining room waiting on everyone else with a special spread of pastries for breakfast.

"Hey kids, I figured you'd want something good to start your big day."

"It's not even test-day yet Mr Picani, but thank you! Your pastries are incredible." Willow declared.

"Well, thanks kiddo. Today isn't your test but it's still a pretty big day. I will be sure to make pastries for test day too though."

"It's not that big a quest really," Remy said. "It's just a longer trip than I usually send them on for ingredient collecting."

"Considering it's a two-day journey to retrieve a rare fruit from a cave, I doubt calling today big would be an exaggeration." Virgil pointed out.

"Back when I was learning magic, we didn't even get teleportation spells for coming back. We'd have to walk there and back, and as quickly as we could too." Remy stated.

"Whatever you say, old man."

"Old? Did you just call me old?" Remy said in a greatly offended tone.

Virgil smirked. "Yup."

Remy turned to Emile. "See what disrespect I have to deal with? You know what, I'm not even going to miss you, sassy little ankle-biters."

The teens all snickered at Remy's dramatics and then dug into their breakfast.

“So, are you guys excited?” Emile asked.

“For the quest itself, not so much. But for the afterparty,” Roman said.

“Yeah, Remy promised us that we’d even get the next day off school, so we could stay up as late as we want!” Remus added.

“I have a feeling I’m going to regret that deal,” Remy whispered to Emile, who nodded with a giggle.

“Can I come to the party?” Everleigh asked.

“Of course,” Remy replied. “They seem to get into less trouble with you around. I’m half tempted to ask you to join them on this quest of theirs.”

“We’re not that accident prone, thank you very much. We’ve kept ourselves out of trouble all month,” Janus pointed out.

“Yeah, and I’m worried you’re due for a disaster,” Remy sighed.

Logan nodded. “Statistically speaking, it’s odd that we’ve gone this long without something happening.”

“That’s comforting…” Virgil muttered.

Janus shrugged. “We’re just getting better at self-preservation. We’ll be fine.”

---

“I retract my earlier statement,” Janus declared as they were walking. “We’re all going to die of exhaustion.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Jan, that’s my job,” Roman stated.

“And we’ve barely been walking for half a day now,” Willow pointed out.

“Half a day, mainly uphill,” Janus reiterated.

“Perhaps if we all talk about something, our minds won’t be so concentrated on the tiredness,” Patton suggested.

Logan nodded. “Yes, doing something else should distract our brains from any pain or exhaustion. Either with a stimulating conversation or some kind of sing-along.”

“I know a good song!” Remus declared. “She’ll be coming around the mountain when she comes-!”

“No! You are not starting that nightmare up again,” Roman interrupted with a stern glare at his grinning twin.

“Oh, come on, Roro. You love this song!”

“I passionately despise that song.”

“All I heard was ‘passionately’, do you want to marry this song, Ro?” Remus asked. “Or do you just want to--”

“Shut up!” Roman shouted, his face turning as red as Remus’s eyes.

“What do you have against that song?” Willow inquired.

“It’s the way she sings it,” Roman explained. “It’s not appropriate.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “All I said was-”

“No! You have lost speaking privileges.” Roman declared.

“Well then, is there anything else we can talk about?” Janus asked,

“We could play a game,” Patton suggested.

“But not eye spy or word chain,” Virgil immediately added.

Roman huffed. “Alright then, how about you suggest a game, stormcloud?”

“A race.”

Janus stared at him dumbfounded. You’re kidding, right?

Virgil shook his head. “Nope. Let’s all race to… that archway, the winner gets first pick of the treats Mr Picani gave us for lunch.”

Everyone, despite their tiredness from walking, exchanged looks of determination.

“Let’s go!”

---

Once it was close to sunset, the seven finally halted their walking and made camp with the supplies they’d been given. They had two tents, a good amount of firewood, plenty of food to go around, and sleeping bags for each of them. Janus started the fire and began heating up a pot of stew for dinner.

Remus laid himself flat on the ground. “Gods, everything hurts.”

Patton sighed. “I told you not to jump through that bush.”

“I didn’t know it was hiding a steep incline.”

“I told you it was hiding a steep incline,” Roman huffed.

“Well, when have I ever listened to you?”

Roman just sighed in exasperation, too tired to continue arguing.

“The healing spell should only take a little longer to complete,” Virgil said. “So the pain will eventually fade.”

“Eventually?!”

“Remus, you basically jumped off a cliff, please stop complaining about the consequences of your actions,” Willow said.

Remus looked at her with a raised brow. “Someone’s in a bad mood.”

“They’re hangry,” Janus stated. “And so am I, when is this thing going to finish heating up?!”

“I still have some pastries from lunch to snack on,” Patton offered.

“Oh, Patty, you’re a saint!” Willow declared joyfully.

Logan watched his teammates with a faint smile. These interactions were starkly different from how they used to treat each other in the beginning. Well, Remus and Roman still bickered, but they were siblings. Janus and Roman no longer acted like they wanted to kill one another. Willow spoke with confidence to everyone instead of their meek tones. Virgil became more social and even laughed and smiled along with the group now. Patton was still his kind-hearted self, although now he was a lot more appreciated for it.

It was a far cry from the dysfunctional class of misfits that they had been. And in Logan’s opinion, it was a real improvement. He couldn’t believe that he’d once been so set on looking out only for himself when now he was so determined to help his team. His friends…

“-gan? Logan?”

“Hmm?”

Virgil gave him a small smile. “You spaced out, I was asking if you wanted your stew now.”

“Oh, um, yes, thank you.”

Virgil handed him one of the bowls in his hands and then sat beside him. “Mind if I ask what’s got you so deep in thought?”

“I was just thinking... about how much I’ll miss all of you,” Logan admitted. “Once we’ve all passed the test and can move on with our lives, the twins will sail off to their island, Janus and Willow will go back to Evergreen Valley, Patton will return to his parents and brother, and you’ll- well, you know…”

“Do you really think after all we’ve been through together, we’d abandon each other that easily?”

“It’s possible.”

“So is the end of the world, but tomorrow is just as possible as that.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Well, look at it this way. If you throw a coin up in the air, there’s an equal chance of it landing on either heads or tails, right?”

“Yes.”

“So there is a chance that we’ll all grow apart, but there’s a bigger chance that we’ll stay friends despite the distance. We’ve got magic to take us back and forth anyway. Staying in touch will be easier than you think.”

“Well, what about your whole secret identity thing?”

“After the test, I’m going to finally show the kingdom who I am.”

Logan paused. ��Wait, really?”

“Yeah, I feel like I’m finally ready to take on the responsibility of having a public image. That means I’ll need to surround myself with the right kinds of people, and you all are exactly the kinds of people I want by my side.”

“Even me? The non-noble?”

“Especially you, Logan. I mean, titles, they’re nothing more than titles. Just words that give a person a position. You, despite the position in life you were given, worked hard to become the first-ever non-noble mage. Title or no title, you are an incredible person Logan, and I’m grateful to have even met you.”

Logan searched Virgil’s face for any hint of insincerity but found none. Those stormy grey eyes held no dishonesty. Only… Fondness? Logan wasn’t good enough at understanding emotions to know exactly what Virgil was feeling, but he felt that it wasn’t anything malicious.

“Thank you, Virgil.”

“No problem. So, do you have any specific plans for what you want to do after the test?”

“Well, I wanted to open up a medical practice.”

“I thought you specialised in air magic? If you’re going into doctoring, why not take up healing magic?”

“I planned on specializing in helping people transition for an affordable price.”

“Oh? That sounds interesting.”

“It was the whole reason I got interested in studying magic. I remember that one day some people came into the bakery, talking about transitional magic. I knew then already that I wanted to do something about my body. The dysphoria was… difficult. So I looked into having someone do the spell for me, but even the cheapest of mages charged far too much for my dad or me to afford. So I took matters into my own hands and decided I would learn magic myself and help others like me to be comfortable in their own skin.”

“That’s a noble cause. It’s almost like what I wanted to do with having a magic school.”

“Oh?”

“I always felt like it was unfair that so many people missed out on the chance to use magic. Being half-fae, I was surrounded by it for my entire life. The council keeps track of who can use magic and is worthy of using it, but the only people able to use it are the rich nobles with all the access to tutors and stuff. It’s like having only certain men be knights, instead of allowing anyone who wants to fight to take up arms. There are so many people out there with the potential to be great, but because of how they were born, they will never have a chance to reach that potential.”

“You care a lot about people.”

“So do you.”

“I suppose that’s a good thing.”

The two sat silently as they ate, but the silence between them felt comfortable. However, Logan found himself once again questioning what he felt towards Virgil, whenever he glanced over at him. His heart seemed to both beat faster and sometimes skip beats altogether. Especially since they were sitting so close together at the moment. They were so close that their knees kept on brushing against each other.

"Uh, Logan?"

"Yes?"

Virgil tugged at his cape's hood. "Can I… ask you an important question?"

Logan tilted his head to the side curiously. "Sure."

"W-"

“Hey, do you two want seconds?” Remus yelled, interrupting the boy’s conversation. “Or can I have the rest?”

“Remus, if you eat all that you’ll get a stomach ache,” Patton warned.

Ignoring his boyfriend’s worry, Remus asked, “Who bets I can finish this in five minutes?”

“You’re an idiot,” Janus stated blankly.

“And a coward. Aim for three!” Roman encouraged.

Logan shook his head. “Well, hopefully, Remus’s antics are the worst things we’ll have to worry about.”

Virgil shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

---

The next morning, after an unpleasant wake-up call from Roman screaming, because Remus had drenched him in water, everyone got up and continued their trek to the cave where the special fruit Remy wanted, grew. Janus and Roman were taking the lead, bickering about something between themselves, with Willow, Remus and Patton walking close behind them, and Virgil and Logan tailing everyone. Willow and Remus would dash away from the group every now and again to grab flowers for Patton so that he could make them all flower crowns. Which was hard to do while walking but he seemed to be managing.

Logan noted that Virgil still seemed very tired. “Not a morning person?”

“Does staying up until five am count?”

“Wh- no! That’s actually a bit concerning. Please don’t tell me you were up until five then only slept two hours before we started walking.”

“I won’t tell you that then.”

“You need sleep, Virgil.”

“I’ll be fine. I have a bit of midnight elixir from Remy that should wake me up.”

Logan shook his head. “What on earth kept you up so late?”

Virgil shrugged. “Thoughts. My mind was feeling really busy last night. Thinking about… everything.”

“Are you worried about what’s going to happen when…” Logan trailed off.

“Kind of, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. After all, I’ve got both my parents to support me through it. Plus all of you… if the others are as accepting as you.”

“Your race won’t change how they see you, Virgil.”

“You can’t know for sure.”

“Perhaps it’s not a guarantee but the chance of them being loyal is infinitesimal.”

“So small.”

“What, no. That would be the chance of them rejecting you.”

“Then why would you say infinitesimal? It means extremely small.”

“Wait, what?”

“Y-yeah… Logan, did you not know what infinitesimal meant?”

“…”

“Oh my gods, you didn’t.”

“Don’t laugh at me! I don’t know everything and that’s perfectly normal.”

“Well, yeah, but you’re like a super genius.”

“You think I’m a genius.”

“Of course. You’ve proved it time and time again. You’re incredibly smart. In fact, the chances of you not knowing something are… infinitesimal.”

Logan glared. “How dare you use a compliment to tease me, you… sparkly-eyed jerk.”

“My eyes sparkle?”

“When you’re happy, yeah. They look kind of like stars.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you were such a romantic.”

Logan froze. “I didn’t mean to cross any boundaries-”

“You can say I have nice eyes, L. I only meant the poetic kind of romantic. I’m sure you weren’t trying to flirt. Unless you were?”

“I- uh, no. I mean you are quite attractive and I-” Logan stopped himself before he could accidentally confess anything more.

“So you do think I’m attractive at least.”

“...Yes.”

“Well, thanks. I feel the same way about you.”

Logan blushed. “O-oh… thank you...”

The rest of the walk was silent as Logan tried to calm his heart rate down. He was concerned with how fast it was going considering the casual pace they were travelling at. Subconsciously though, he knew that it was what Virgil had said that made him feel like this. He could pretend all he wanted, that there was something else wrong, but he knew that the cause of all this was his feelings towards a certain grey-eyed boy.

The fact that they had almost just flirted with each other was really not helping him. Especially since he wanted so badly to actually flirt with him. He wasn’t exactly sure of his full attraction to Virgil but he liked the idea of flirting with him. Exchanging compliments and maybe holding hands or even… kissing him? That idea made his heart skip a beat.

So basically he was having a gay panic all the way up to the cave. The one thing that distracted him from completely freezing was looking at his surroundings and categorizing all the plants he saw. Beside the cave entrance, he noted there were some berry bushes growing. Then, he saw a pebble fall from above the entrance and glanced up to see what had pushed it.

Time seemed to slow down when Logan saw the boulder perched there. It looked like it was about to fall and crush Virgil, Patton and him before they got into the cave. He grabbed Virgil’s wrist and pushed Patton ahead of them as quickly as possible to get inside of the cave before the boulder came tumbling down with a bunch of other large rocks that now sealed the entrance.

“Holy- are you guys okay?!” Willow asked.

“Pat!” Remus ran to Patton’s side immediately and helped him up.

“I’m okay, I’m okay. Logan saved us.”

Virgil stared wide-eyed at the rocks. "By Ysla’s bow, that was close. Are you alright, Logan?”

“I’m fine. Just glad I saw what was going to happen before we got squished.”

“How the hel did that even happen? There’s no way that was a coincidence,” Janus commented.

“Well, I don’t know what else it could have been. Maybe that was the big trouble that Remy was worried we’d get into,” Roman said.

“Good thing we have the porthole spell to get home then. I don’t think that there’s any way we could get back through here without it taking half an eternity,” Willow declared.

After that scare, the group continued on deeper into the cave. They knew the tree grew in a central chamber surrounded by glowing moss. There was some of this glowing moss on the walls, illuminating their path so they didn’t have to use a light spell or anything.

Soon enough, they reached the chamber. From there they just had to get the fruit from the tree, make a porthole, and go home for their after party. Except there was one problem.

A giant mole.

“I think we’re cursed.”

---

A/N: thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this. I'll be posting two chapters a day until the full fic is up, so if you want to be tagged, you can just ask.

I'd love to hear what you thought about the chapter if you wouldn't mind commenting. Thanks again for reading! Here's hoping you have a magical day 💜

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atlasishere · 4 years

Text

I Bake Sins Not Tragedies pt. 1

Characters: Logan, Virgil, Patton, Roman, Remus, Janus, Remy, Emile

Relationships: Analogical(eventually), Royality (in progress), Dukeceit(background), Remile(background)

Word Count: 7568

A/N: I wrote most of this before the newest Sanders Sides video, so if Janus’ name is incorrect, sorry, let me know if it is.

Taglist: @normallyaspen @watchoutforthefanfics @superwholocked-for-life (if you wanna tagged when the next part is uploaded or whenever I write, let me know)

Virgil “woke up” at 6:00, meaning that he snoozed his 6:00 alarm until 6:30 when he had to get up for work. He got up, put on his black jeans, purple shirt with long sleeves that would end up getting rolled up, and grabbed his hoodie. He walked into his kitchen and grabbed the pizza from about two nights ago and ate it cold. He put on his converse and walked to his bakery, arriving at 6:45 with just enough time to set up before his first customers walked in. He went through his day, making his baked goods, jamming to his emo music, eternally grateful to his brother, Patton, willingly helped him run his bakery.

Logan woke up at 6:00 sharp, got dressed in jeans and a black short-sleeved polo, gelled his hair back, and ate a simple breakfast of cereal and eggs. He read a book until 7:30 when he left to go open the tattoo parlor he worked at.

These two men lived their lives separately until one fateful day. Virgil had decided he wanted to get a new tattoo, something simple. He had considered getting something in remembrance of MCR but he already had one. He already had a flower for his dad, a Starbucks cup with sunglasses for his ren, and a blue heart with glasses for his brother. Along with that, he had some lyrics from “Na Na Na” by MCR. So Virgil went through the things that are important to him and decided to look up symbols for them. He had found a couple of ideas and sketched them. As he was doing this, he looked at his copy of Coraline on the bookshelf across from him, and inspiration hit. He sketched two black buttons and a spool of thread and called his brother out, “Yo, Patton. Come look at this tattoo idea.”

Patton walked out, looked at it, said, “I like it, what’s the inspiration?”

“Coraline, the buttons were supposed to take her to this life of ‘happiness’ but it would have led to more pain and she discovered that her own life wasn’t as bad as she thought. It was all about her perspective,” Virgil shared, having clearly thought this through as he sketched it.

“I like it. Where would you put it, dear sibling?” Patton asked.

“Well, somewhere I would see it daily. Also, I use ‘they and he’ pronouns so no need to use sibling,” Virgil answered, “Heck if you wanted to use ‘she’ I wouldn’t complain. When I came out, I said I am indifferent to pronouns.”

“I know sib, but I like using the more neutral pronouns, a habit I picked up from Remy for a parental unit,” Patton countered.

“Fair point, but with my fluctuating gender, it’s kinda pointless,” Virgil argued.

“Oh freaking well, deal with it,” Patton said, ending the argument, knowing that Virgil wasn’t irritated.

Virgil decided that he needed to put his stuff away and get back behind the counter and help his brother.

A full day of baking, serving teens and college students, and cleaning up, Virgil walked home. As he did so, he was paying close attention to his surroundings, looking for tattoo parlors that he could look into. As he was walking, Virgil saw a sign for a tattoo parlor and decided to check it out.

Logan heard the bell above the door of the tattoo parlor where he worked ring and looked up to see a man dressed in black jeans, a light purple top, and a patched hoodie. As the man approached, Logan decided to partake in his favorite activity, at least while at work, guessing their tattoo, he guessed it was probably song lyrics from one of those emo bands. It turns out that Logan would be pleasantly surprised.

“Hi, I am new in town and looking for parlors to get this tattoo that I want. I was curious if you had any examples of some of the work that you guys do,” the man asked, with a deep, smooth voice that caught Logan off guard.

“We have several artists with different specialties, so it depends on what you want. Do you have a picture or sketch of what you want?” Logan asked, keeping it professional but giddy to figure out if he was right.

The man pulled out a square piece of paper and said, “It’s not super complex,” Logan stared at the spool of thread and black buttons as the man continued, “It’s based on the book “Coraline” by Neil Gaiman.”

So, Logan was wrong, “I mean most of us could do that but I like to think I am the most qualified.”

“Got any examples of your work?” the man asked cheekily.

Logan decided to get his best friend up here who happened to let Logan do all of his tattoos, “Roman get your lazy ass up here!”

“Lose again specs?” Roman asked as he got up.

The man looked confused and Logan decided to change the subject quickly and said, “Show this customer some of my work please.”

“If you wanted me shirtless, all you had to do was ask,” Roman countered as he removed his shirt to show the tattoos. There weren’t many but the ones appeared to be sentimental and detailed.

“I may be pansexual, but I am not desperate,” Logan said, continuing the banter.

“Wow, rude, and in front of this fine young person too,” Roman said, pretending to be hurt.

“Well, they probably didn’t want to see your chest either, but you refuse to get them anywhere but your back and chest,” Logan countered, clearly noticing the way Roman had glanced at the bracelet on the customer’s wrist that said he/they. They looked surprised that someone had noticed that.

“Well, maybe I don’t want to ruin my wonderful arms or legs, Mr. Andy Hurley,” Roman said, attempting to defend his honor.

“I’ll take that as a compliment since Andy Harley is a very attractive man and I do enjoy a good amount of Fall Out Boy,” Logan countered.

Roman scoffed as Logan turned to the customer and said, “I guess I should introduce myself, formally. I am Logan Croft.”

The man smiled and shook Logan’s outstretched hand firmly as he replied, “I am Virgil.”

“I would like to apologize for my fiend, I mean friend, he gets quite excitable at times,” Logan said as he glared at his friend.

“Actually, I like your work and wouldn’t mind getting my tattoo here. May I make an appointment?” Virgil asked.

Logan looked astonished as he said, “Sure, when would you like to?”

“I don’t work until later on Saturday, would that work?” Virgil asked.

“Yes it will,” Logan answered.

Virgil nodded then gave a quick wave goodbye as he left. Logan watched the door close and turned his head to see Roman with that impish look he got.

“You like him!” Roman shrieked.

“No, too soon to tell,” Logan said, “Also what happened to ‘they’?”

“His bracelet said, ‘He/They’. Also, if not yet, soon. I mean he’s cute so I understand but not my style,” Roman said, “I mean his brother’s pretty cute and comes to my pharmacy and I’ve had my eye on him for a bit.”

“You know his brother?” Logan asked.

“Well, they own that emo themed bakery up the street from the pharmacy where I work,” Roman shared.

Logan took Roman’s statement as food for thought as he left the parlor, waving at his coworker goodbye. He walked home and thought about the customer who had come in so close to the end of his shift. Logan didn’t necessarily believe in soulmates, fate, or chance since there was no scientific proof but he also had an emotional side and hope. Soon after he thought this, Logan’s logical side won over and said that there was no reason other than the obvious convenient coincidence. He entered his simple apartment, grateful that his roommates weren’t home. He started cooking dinner, which was almost finished as his roommates, Roman and his twin brother Remus, walked in. Roman had gone to get Remus since Roman had used their car to get to work so he had to drop off and pick up Remus. Roman’s job was farther out than Logan’s and Remus’ who couldn’t walk to work either. It was a weird set up but they shared a car since neither of them had the money for a second car. Logan didn’t have a car either, he was saving up his money to pay off his loans and hopefully to find a good job somewhere science-related. As the twins dropped their stuff off at the door, Remus was talking about his job at the zoo and the newest animal exhibit there. Logan looked at the very chaotic person who enjoyed handling the animals. His brother, however, was clearly ready to tell his own work story. To prevent a fight, Logan said, “Hey, set the table boys.”

“Okay mom,” Roman said, chuckling. Logan had learned that Roman and Remus thought of him as a motherly figure.

They sat down for dinner as Roman talked about how his day at the pharmacy went, “Someone who was a regular, came in for their antidepressants and had said, please remember I am paraphrasing, ‘Do you have the potion that shall help me, O’ wise mage’ to which I said a simple yes. They responded with, ‘I thank thee, no curse shall leave my lips that will torment you’. They left the Walgreen’s and I realized that was fairly normal for me. Anyway, Logan, got any good stories besides that cute emo coming in?”

Logan would never admit this to anyone, but some blood rose to his neck as he responded, “No my day was normal, including the man from the bakery. However, I seem to remember something about a cute brother that works with him from you Roman.”

Remus snickered as he watched his two roommates who were definitely crushing pretty hard. He was glad that he was behind those days, having a boyfriend and all.

That night, Virgil walked home to his apartment that he shared with his old college roommate, Janus, who was making spaghetti for their dinner that night. Virgil set the box on the table that held some “Hey Youngblood” thumbprint cookies from their bakery. Janus looked at the box, pointed a spatula at it as if to ask the contents. Virgil answered the unasked question, “Thumbprint cookies, made with Crofters. And no, I am not calling the cookies by their name because I say it enough at work.”

Janus smiled as he responded, “Well maybe you should reevaluate your decisions then.”

“How about no. I like my bakery as it is, I just kinda regret letting Pat choose the names for the baked goods. By the way, he hasn’t named everything on the menu,” Virgil confessed.

“Should you talk to him? Is it that big of a problem?” Janus asked, genuinely concerned for his friend.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just that it gets a little annoying at times. His puns are super clever though so it’s honestly all good,” Virgil answered, truthfully, recognizing the look on their roommate’s face.

Janus nodded, believing his roommate, as he served the spaghetti. The two sat down to eat when they heard a knock at the door. Virgil got up and checked to see who it was, it was his brother Patton. Virgil opened the door to let him in and as soon as he crossed the threshold Patton exclaimed, “I fucked up real bad. I mean really bad.”

Virgil sighed, probably had to do with the cute pharmacist that stopped by their bakery. Not that Virgil could complain since he usually did the same with Patton but if it was the same person, Virgil thought he might scream. But before he could, Patton continued with his story.

“So you know the pharmacist who comes in on occasion, well I was at the drugstore where he works and I was unaware that I was speaking with him. So I said, ‘I seek the cure to the darkness in my brain’ and he went through the normal stuff and I had to continue being normal so I responded with, ‘I thank thee, no curse of mine shall harm you’ and now I definitely ruined any chances with him.”

“Patton, I am sure that if he would’ve dated you, he would have been exposed to you and you’re, sometimes, eccentric qualities. I am sure everything will end up being okay,” Virgil said, attempting to comfort their brother.

“And if it is necessary, I can and will murder,” Janus chimed in, unwelcomely.

“Says the lawyer who prosecutes murder cases,” Virgil quips while making the universal sign for shut the fuck up, the middle finger.

Janus stayed quiet while Virgil worked on reassuring his brother. Eventually, Patton nodded and appeared to have calmed down. When Virgil invited him to stay for dinner, Patton had turned down the offer since he needed to head upstairs to talk to his roommate since he hadn’t been home.

Virgil sat down at the table with his roommate as Janus’ phone received a notification. Virgil could tell from the look on his friend’s face that it was Janus’ boyfriend texting him.

“Share the news, Janus, I know you are dying to,” Virgil said as he looked at his plate of spaghetti.

The lawyer smiled as he said, “Well, Roman, the brother of Remus, has started an incorrect quotes blog that is just Remus quotes and conversations.”

Virgil laughed and said, “Can you get the URL, I need to know what this man you are dating is like because you never seem to bring him around.”

Janus texted Remus and got a response fairly quickly. After being told what it was, Virgil grabbed his laptop and looked it up. As he read through the posts and showed Janus a few, he asked, “Is this what he is always like?”

“Yeah, he has his moments of being calm or more chaotic, but this is his usual act,” Janus responded.

The two laughed for a bit at the quotes when Virgil said, “I think the guy that Patton is infatuated with is named Roman.”

“Oh yeah, it is. That is, in fact, the same Roman, and yes, he is also very infatuated with Patton apparently,” Janus responded as he put his phone away and began to eat.

Virgil pondered this new information for a bit and eventually, he began to think about the Roman he met in the tattoo parlor, which in turn, led to him thinking about the guy, Logan. Logically, Virgil knew that he wouldn’t see him after he got his tattoo but part of him was drawn to the man.

Virgil remained lost in his thoughts until, being the absolute angel that he is, Janus smacked Virgil on the back of the head. Virgil was still jolting as he got out of his chair, ready to fight Janus, and like two siblings fighting over the remote, they both ended up on the ground wrestling.

After a few minutes of fighting, Janus finally asks, “So what was on your mind?”

“Nothing, I was just thinking,” Virgil said.

“Uh-huh, sure, I think it’s because you have a crush,” Janus teased as he watched his friend attempt to stutter out a response.

Finally able to speak clearly, Virgil said, "Actually, it's not. I was thinking about that tattoo I wanted to get." Virgil hoped that Janus would buy his half-lie and not see the nervous tapping or blood flowing up to his neck.

Janus knew Virgil wasn’t being completely honest, he ate the lies of criminals for breakfast, but he could also read the room and knew this was not the time, so he dropped it. Finally, at ease, Virgil continued their conversation and the two talked until it was close to 10:00.

On Saturday morning, Virgil made sure that their brother had someone to work with him during the day until Virgil was done at the parlor. Since it was confirmed, Virgil got up and dressed in a tank top and open flannel, aware that he would need a looser item of clothing on top of his tattoo. Virgil ate breakfast, left his house, and started towards the tattoo parlor.

Once they entered, Logan looked up to see who was at the door. His heart was hoping for Virgil and his head was telling him that it shouldn't matter. But it was Virgil and a war started inside of him. His head won, which was smart since Logan would be doing permanent needlepoint on their skin.

Logan took them back and prepped the needle and Virgil's skin.

As the needle was buzzing, Virgil appeared to be scrolling Tumblr on their phone as Logan did his job. He tried to refrain from paying attention to Virgil's muscle mass and focused on the project.

After several hours, Logan finished the tattoo and gave Virgil the care instructions. They waved as they left the parlor and headed to their bakery.

Virgil walked into his bakery and was bombarded with questions from their brother. "How did it go? Do you like it? Are you feeling okay?"

Virgil held up their hand and said, "It went well considering I got needlepoint on my skin, I haven't looked since it's on my shoulder, and yes I am okay."

Suddenly Virgil was being dragged to a bathroom by his brother so he could see it as well as Patton.

Once inside, the light was turned on and Virgil slipped the flannel off of his shoulder. The tattoo looked really good and Virgil was impressed. They walked out of the bathroom, brother in tow, put his uniform on, and washed his hands.

Throughout the day, the bakery had a steady stream of customers who enjoyed the food, puns, and music. Near the end of the day, Virgil was surprised to see Logan, the tattoo artist, walk through the door. He walked up to the counter as he appeared to scan the menu. As he arrived at the counter, Virgil gave his standard, “Hello, Welcome to I Bake Sins, not Tragedies, How can I help you today?”

Logan smirked and asked, “What are the ‘Hey Youngblood’ cookies?”

“Well, they are a jam thumbprint cookie filled with Crofter’s jam, we have strawberry and blackberry jam,” Virgil answered, trying to use his customer voice he had picked up over the years of working in the real world.

Logan nodded then said, “Could I please have a ‘Hey Youngblood’ cookie then and a coffee.”

Virgil nodded, took Logan’s money, made his change, and began preparing his order. It wasn’t complex, the cookies had been baked recently and coffee was in a pot, so it took but five minutes to complete. As he brought it out to Logan, he gestured to where the cream and sugar were kept for their customers to use on their own. They had found it to be more convenient and easier. Virgil watched as Logan found a seat at a table and pulled a book from the shelf behind him. Virgil continued to work and serve customers for a while when he noticed that Logan had left, it wasn’t a problem since he had figured where the mugs needed to be returned, but part of Virgil was upset nonetheless.

Logan walked out of the bakery and walked back to the parlor. The bakery was very nice, the music was loud enough to be heard but wasn’t disruptive, their food was very good and Logan desired to find this Crofter’s jam, there was a good selection of books for the customers to read as they sat down, and the aesthetic was less dark but still held to the inspiration. Logan found himself enjoying the Fall Out Boy and Panic! At the Disco puns on the food. He definitely was adding the place to his list of good places to eat at. He conveniently was skipping over the cute enby at the register. That can of worms was not going to be opened. He entered the parlor and saw that Roman was there. “Hey, Eliot, can you take out the trash?” Logan said, gesturing to Roman.

The man at the front desk, Eliot, smiled, and said, “Sorry, I thought that was your job.”

Logan smirked and responded, “Oh yeah, It is.”

As Logan started to meander towards Roman, the pharmacist definitely looked a little fearful as Logan chuckled, "I was joking with you Roman."

"I am well aware, Specs but it wasn't very nice. Just thought that you confused me for Remus," Roman responded, trying to save his dignity.

"What a vibe check Roman," Logan said, aware the slang was incorrect but also had stopped trying with slang. Roman's face made it worth the lack of education Logan had.

"A what now?!?!? That is so wrong. I really can't believe you just said that " Roman exclaimed, continuing to rant about how Logan doesn't know slang.

Logan chuckled as he watched his friend continue to passionately rant about something as trivial as slang.

The next week went by fairly routinely for the group. Logan worked at the parlor and occasionally stopped by the bakery with the attractive emo worker, Virgil would work and occasionally see the cute tattoo artist, Patton worked with brother and would attempt and fail to keep it together when a certain pharmacist would come in every day, and Roman would continue his daily routine of stopping in to get breakfast and see the adorable baker. Somewhere in the course of the week, Roman had slipped Patton his phone number, platonically, of course, and that sparked a conversation and eventually friendship between the two.

Virgil and Logan did not interact that much but were slowly becoming comfortable with each other’s presence. They would have a casual conversation when Logan would come in and on occasion, Logan would happen to ask about books that Virgil had. They kinda wanted to talk to Logan more, but it’s kinda hard when a guy comes in right at the time that high school students get out of school.

But that week was done and the weekend was bringing a special surprise, the arrival of Virgil and Patton’s parents.

It was Friday night, a mere twenty minutes before closing and the bakery was empty. Virgil and Patton had a little bit of extra bread dough from the day. It was only about the size of a fist and well, Virgil had technically started it. He had tossed it and ended up throwing it at his brother. Patton received the dough splat on the back of his head and turned to see his sheepish sibling looking incredibly nervous. Patton smiled and tossed it back to him. Virgil caught it and chuckled. The game slowly got bigger as Virgil and Patton ended up outside the kitchen and in the main area. They continued for a few more minutes when suddenly the doors opened and in walked Emile and Remy, the parents of the two bakers.

And like children caught with their hands in the cookie jar, they froze and went to finger-pointing. Emile chuckled and held his hands up and Patton tossed the ball to his dad.

“Think fast dear,” Emile told his partner as he threw the dough to Remy.

Remy caught the dough and smiled. They tossed it to their child and the game continued for a few more minutes until some late-night closer customers came in.

“C’mon, I need to see Patton and you wouldn’t mind seeing Virgil. Their bakery doesn’t close for a whole 15 minutes,” Roman whined.

“I am aware and no I wouldn’t mind but it is late. One of us needs to be the voice of reason here,” Logan said, not wanting to admit how much he kind of wanted to see a particular baker.

“There is no reason not to,” Roman argued.

Logan would blame it on the fact that he was tired and not because he was giving in to the want to see someone who may not even be attracted to men as he acquiesced to Roman’s request, “Fine, Roman. Let me grab my jacket and we can walk there since Remus took the car when he dropped you off.”

The two walked to the bakery. When they arrived, they saw four people tossing something and smiling. Logan assumed they were laughing. As he looked, he saw Virgil and from the look on Roman’s face, could assume that Patton was in there as well. However, Logan felt a little preoccupied with Virgil and their existence. Their face was a little flushed and they were smiling as they threw what appeared to be bread dough.

Eventually, Logan snapped out of his trance and realized that he was definitely gay for this nonbinary emo baker. He also made the snap decision that the other two, older, adults were likely family. Logan was going to tap Roman on the shoulder and tell him that they should just head home, but, Roman’s hand was on the doorknob and was opening the door.

Well, Logan would argue that he had to join his friend and walked in. He was greeted with what was becoming a familiar scent of baked bread and an earthy scent that was likely from an air freshener. He felt bad for interrupting the family time that was happening, but the look of surprise and happiness on Virgil’s face almost, keyword almost, took away his anxiety. Virgil hopped behind the counter and asked what they wanted.

“Could I have a ‘Hey Youngblood’ cookie and a loaf of bread?” Logan asked and gestured for Roman to step up and order.

“Could I have some ‘Pretty Odd Macarons’?” Roman asked.

Virgil nodded, rang up the order, and began to get the food. While Virgil was doing that, Patton had approached Roman and the two began talking.

Virgil handed him the bag and Logan just had to open his mouth and ask, “So, uh, who are these lovely people?” He was nervous and apparently he cannot control his mouth around cute people.

Virgil looked at Remy, who nodded, before responding. “Well, my ren would probably appreciate that you didn’t say men as they are nonbinary and their name is Remy,” Virgil said as he gestured to the person with a leather jacket and sunglasses, “And the other man is my dad, Emile,” Virgil answered as he gestured to the man in a suit with a cardigan and glasses.

Then Virgil gestured to Logan and said, “This is my friend Logan. Just so everyone knows everyone.”

Logan could feel the blood rushing to his neck and shuffled his feet as he waved.

Roman smiled and introduced himself, looked at the clock and realized that it was pretty late, and turned to Patton to say goodbye.

Logan turned to Virgil and said, “We need to get back to our apartment and make sure that Remus hasn’t burned it down. He has been at the house alone for around three hours and is pretty chaotic. It was nice seeing you, goodbye.’

Virgil chuckled and said, “It was nice seeing you, Logan. Feel free to drop by anytime.”

Logan looked down at the floor to hide the red that was creeping up his neck and towards his face and grabbed his friend to drag him home.

Logan was at the front door of his apartment and Roman was still whining like a child. The two walked in and were greeted with Remus and his questioning looks. Logan began to share the story.

Virgil waved to Logan and Roman as they left and looked at his watch to see that it was closing time. They waved Patton over to help finish tidying up and gather the baked goods off the shelf and put them in a box.

As the siblings were working, Remy was holding the dough ball and tossing it between their hands. They could tell their husband was proud of their sons but also incredibly curious, like Remy, about the two men who had come in at closing. Their husband looked at them and Remy knew they were the bolder of the two so he asked, “Who were those two?”

Virgil happened to be at the counter at the moment so he said, “Well Roman is Patton’s admirer and Logan is a new friend as well as the guy who did my newest tattoo.”

Patton happened to hear from the kitchen so he piped up and said, “Actually, Roman doesn’t like me but I think Logan likes Virgil.”

This led to an argument. Emile looked at his spouse and moved to stand next to him. “How much do you wanna bet that both of our children are in love and their respective man also loves them?”

Remy chuckled and said, “While I normally don’t condone on gambling, I can make an exception for our oblivious children. I say it takes the rest of the month.” It was, conveniently, at the beginning of the month.

Emile smiled and said, “I think I will go with the month after.” The two lovers shook hands and looked at the children they had raised.

Virgil and Patton had stopped their bickering and were deciding who would take what was left from the day to the homeless shelter.

When Virgil and Patton decided to buy I Bake Sins, not Tragedies, the two decided that they should donate what food was left from the day to a local homeless shelter that was LGBTQ+ friendly and nonprofit. They had found one thanks to the size of the city they lived in.

Patton decided to take that day and texted his roommate, Thomas, that he would be home later.

Virgil asked his parents who they wanted to stay with that night since Patton and Virgil both had a space prepared for them when they had heard their parents say they wanted to visit.

The two looked at each other and Remy said, “Mind if we stay with you? I haven’t talked to Janus in a while and Emile looks so tired that walking up more stairs than necessary may cause him to pass out.” Remy chuckled as their husband smacked them.

Virgil nodded and texted their roommate that they would have two guests tonight.

After the siblings finished cleaning and closing up, Virgil walked out to their parent’s car and asked if he could ride to the apartment complex with them.

Remy appeared to consider it before letting him in. The three drove to Virgil’s apartment and decided to not stay up too late.

The next morning was one of chaos. Janus had a big trial at noon that day, Remy and Emile were going to spend their morning walking around the city and the afternoon in the bakery. Virgil’s anxiety was skyrocketing at the thought of something bad happening and was ready to punch something.

Having woken up earlier than usual, Virgil had the chance to run around the block before getting ready to work. So, he ran. They knew they needed to run to get the nerves under control and they would have the chance to work with dough all day which helps with the aggression aspect of his anxiety.

After Virgil’s quick run, he went to his apartment, showered off, and put his standard dark clothing and hoodie on. Virgil walked to the bakery in record time and had enough time to put his apron on and help his brother pull the tray out of the oven. Patton had come in early to bake since he was a morning person but Virgil and Patton often alternated each week for who would come in earlier to get the first round in the ovens.

Patton decided to man the register while Virgil took over baking for the morning shift.

The brothers worked nonstop until 11:30, which was standard for Saturdays and enjoyed the break they would receive until the late lunch rush. During this time, Janus stopped in to grab a Danger Days Donut and coffee.

The rest of the morning passed without event and Virgil had decided to take a 10-minute break to go and get their anxiety medication from the pharmacy. Waving to Patton, Virgil walked down the street to the nearest Walgreens and back to the pharmacy. When he arrived, he saw a familiar face, the face of Roman. Roman looked up and saw Virgil as he was about to ask for a name. “Hey, Virgil, I am afraid I will need a last name, for protocol, of course.”

Virgil chuckled and said, “Picani, also I was not expecting you to know it. I was not expecting you to work here, in fact.”

Roman chuckled and said, “I’ve served your brother but I am surprised he hasn’t spoken of me.” Roman pulled Virgil’s medicine off the shelf and handed it to him.

Virgil took the medicine as he made an offhand comment about thinking that his brother was speaking of another Roman, despite the fact that Virgil was fully aware his brother was very taken by Roman.

The two bantered for another minute before Virgil left and headed back to his bakery.

Virgil walked back in and saw Logan at a table near the bookshelves in the back.

Patton saw them walk in and gave him a thumbs up so Virgil set their prescription in the back and went out to the bookshelves to talk to Logan. Virgil wasn’t sure why he wanted to talk to the tattoo artist, all he knew was there was something drawing him to Logan.

Logan felt something tap his shoulder and tensed up a bit, startled but when he turned around, he was pleasantly surprised. Logan did not expect to see Virgil out of the back.

“Looking for a book to read?” Virgil asked.

Logan wasn’t but he wanted to hear Virgil talk about something he liked so he said, “I am actually.”

Maybe Virgil knew Logan was lying but if they did, they humored Logan, “Well, I don’t know if you have read ‘Coraline’ but that is a good one, I mean I based a tattoo off of it. But if you want something less creepy, ‘Good Omens’ by Neil Gaiman is also very good. Want out of the fantasy realm and more science fiction, we have many Douglass Adams novels.”

Logan nodded and decided to find Coraline to read. He had not read the story but had heard good things about it.

Virgil continued to work for the next hour, making his supply for the evening and later night coffee dates, occasionally checking on Logan. Once or twice Virgil would catch themself staring and have to shake themself from their trance. Virgil was realistic, they weren't in a super-wealthy occupation and weren't the most attractive person out there, heck they had heterochromia. The left eye is green and his right is brown, he just wears a colored contact so they both look brown. Virgil was okay with their appearance but wore the contact because he preferred to assuage the questions and because he used to get bullied for it. They also were aware that it was likely an infatuation and would fade quickly.

At some point in the day, Virgil's parents had also snuck into the store and appeared to be snacking on the rejects near the back. Those two were watching their child's potential future boyfriend with interest.

And for an hour, it was a blissful quiet. Soon after Logan settled with his book, Virgil traded with Patton to start preparing for the evening and post date bakery visitors. It was mostly making the dough and letting it rise. At one point, Virgil went out to sit with their parents and catch up. After a bit, Virgil relieved Patton of register duty and sat on the stool, sketching.

Virgil wasn’t really a great drawer but he liked to do it nonetheless, it was a relaxing activity. So, with quieter Fall Out Boy playing, Virgil drew, Logan read, Emile and Remy gossiped with Patton, and all was right with the world. Sadly, Logan’s phone decided to disrupt the peace to remind Logan that he had a job. Logan sighed and decided to go to the front counter. Virgil was sketching what appeared to be a beach and Logan hated to disrupt them but he was on a time crunch. “Hey, Virgil,” Logan started, with a softer tone as to not startle the quieter goth, “I was wondering if you could hold onto this book for me to come back in and finish. I am really enjoying it but I have to get to work.”

Virgil looked up, not startled but surprised. He heard Logan’s request and kinda wanted to chuckle because Logan hadn’t thought to ask if he could borrow the book, but Virgil could respect his wish and said, “Absolutely my dude, it is not a problem.” Virgil took the book from Logan and their hands brushed against each other briefly and Virgil was fighting the urge to blush. Logan nodded and fumbled out a goodbye as he backed out, subsequently running into a table, on his way out. Virgil chuckled and tried to convince himself that he didn’t offer to let Logan borrow the book because Virgil wanted Logan to visit again. It took the rest of the day to convince himself of this fact.

Near the end of the day, around what is normally dinner time, Roman busted through the doors and startled Patton. Virgil had left with Remy to grab dinner for the rest of his family and Patton and Emile were left to watch over the bakery. Well, Emile was sitting in his back corner while Patton watched the register and decided if there needed to be more sale goods made or if Virgil should mix dough to bake tomorrow. It was quiet and Patton was a little restless. So Roman’s impromptu entrance was actually appreciated by Patton while Virgil would have scowled. Roman walked up to the front register and put on his blindingly charming smile and Patton couldn’t help but giggle like a girl whose crush just shared that they like someone.

Roman continued walking in and walked to the back where Emile was sitting, which confused Patton. Roman cleared his throat and said, “Hello, my name is Roman. I believe we met last night.”

Emile was a little charmed and smiled as he responded, “Why yes we did.” Emile could also tell the boy was nervous, he kept shuffling his feet and wiping his hands on his pants.

Roman took a second to try to calm down and ask his question. “I was wondering if I could have your permission to take your son, Patton, on a date.” Now Patton was listening by this point and had to keep from gasping in surprise.

Emile smiled and said, “Well, Patton is an adult so you really don’t have to ask me, but if he is fine with it, so am I. I am close to certain my spouse will agree with me and I admire that you asked me but I think the one you really need to ask is by the kitchen door.”

Roman smiled and turned to see Patton peeping and eavesdropping. “Well, Patton, would you like to go on a date with me Friday night?”

Like a deer in headlights, Patton froze before finding his voice to say, “Yes I will.”

Roman smiled and went to hug Patton when the bell above the entrance rang out. Patton rushed out to the front to see if it was a customer, but instead, it was the rest of his family.

Virgil went behind the counter and handed Patton the food they had gotten him and when he finally looked at his brother, Virgil saw his brother’s face lit up with joy, and Virgil knew he was going to be in for a gossip session.

The family ate dinner, with the brothers behind the counter and the parents at a close table. The night finished routinely, with Virgil and Patton cleaning up and Virgil gathering the leftovers for the local shelter. Remy and Emile were staying with Patton that night and Virgil was going to head home afterward.

Virgil was walking back home after visiting the shelter. He was deep in thought when he ran into someone, quite literally. That, someone, happened to be very fit. Logan was that someone. Virgil was quite surprised since he didn’t see Logan outside of the tattoo shop and bakery, but Virgil was not able to form a sentence because the gay part of his brain just went berserk. As previously mentioned, Logan is fit and has a good deal of muscle mass. Virgil also literally ran into him and fell on the ground. So, the anxious, disaster gay was looking for an escape, because flight was his activated instinct. As his eyes scanned the paths of escape, Logan began to speak, “Hey, Virgil. I was not expecting to see you out tonight.”

Somewhere in the anxious fog of his brain, Virgil knew he needed to respond, so he did, “Uh, yeah. Same here. I was dropping some food donations off to the homeless shelter that specifies in helping queer people.”

Logan looked surprised. Then Virgil realized that not everyone uses queer in a friendly sense so he began to explain. “Oh, yeah, I say queer because I believe that some terms need reclaiming and it is a valid label. I, myself, identify as queer.”

Virgil continued to ramble when Logan interrupted, “Virgil, breathe. I was not offended by the use of queer, I like that some are reclaiming it. I didn’t know you donated food to the local homeless shelter, that’s why I looked surprised.”

Virgil breathed, counting so they could calm down. As they calmed down, Logan realized that Virgil was definitely on the verge of a panic attack. So once Virgil had calmed down, Logan offered to walk Virgil to their apartment. Virgil was still a little shaky and agreed.

The two walked to Virgil's apartment complex and talked. Virgil learned that Logan was a big science nerd and that he liked to misuse slang specifically to annoy Roman. Logan learned that Virgil had always been passionate about baking and that he hadn’t actually found emo music until he was a college student. Those were simple facts and only broad details, however, it brought new depth to their relationship.

Logan walked Virgil to his front door and waved goodbye as Virgil walked inside. Virgil walked into their apartment, gave a two-fingered salute to Logan (who gave a small wave goodbye), and watched Logan walk away as he closed the door.

“What was that?” Janus asked accusingly.

“Oh, I ran into Logan on my walk home and he offered to walk me home.” Virgil divulged.

“You mean The Logan Croft? The Logan Croft with eyes that are like golden brown honey? With hair that looks like a dark chocolate mousse? By the way, why do you describe him using bakery type foods?” Janus asked, teasing Virgil.

“Yeah, we had a nice conversation on the way home,” Virgil said, baiting Janus with a fishhook of information.

“I think that we need to have a gossip night again, so I will be making the popcorn, you get the drinks,” Janus said, bluntly and full of curiosity.

Virgil chuckled, glad Janus caught the bait. He got up and started to make the hot cocoa, ready to share every detail of the night.

Logan continued walking, tired and happy, indescribably happy. He could definitely try, he knew words, but Virgil elicited a special kind of reaction that he could never begin to decipher. Logan was happy and if he thought about it, maybe he was falling in love.

Logan was able to make it home safely in his dazed state, and when he got home, he walked into his apartment. He closed the front door and just leaned against the back of the door. Remus happened to hear the door close and looked to see where Logan was. He saw Logan in his starstruck state and felt the need to hopelessly tease rise up in him. “Logan’s got a boyfriend, Logan’s got a boyfriend. Gonna finally get f-,” Remus singsonged until he got cut off.

“Alright, that’s enough. Firstly, I am pan, could easily be a girl or a nonbinary person. Secondly, if you are referring to Virgil, they use they/them and may not want to be referred to as a boyfriend. Thirdly, They likely don’t feel the same,” Logan said, sobering up.

Remus realized that Logan was definitely sensitive about the subject. So, he called Roman into the living room, grabbed some blankets, set a movie up, and went to make cocoa. Tonight was going to be a comfortable gossip night. He texted Janus, saying he may be a bit slow on responding because Logan needed to be listened to.

Both groups had a gossip night, though one was more lighthearted and the other was more of a rant session, both parties ended up feeling more satisfied with how they felt and hopeful that their feelings were reciprocated.

To Be Continued

Hi. This is my birthday gift to myself because I'm now an adult legally and I can do what I want.

#Nic writes #nicfics #Janus Sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #Analogical #royality #remile #dukeceit #reblogs help a lot #not gonna beg though #sanders sides

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leilabeaux · 4 years

Text

Luck Be a Lady

Chapter One

Masterlist

Pairing: Alex x Reader

Word Count: 2999

Summary: Reader was looking forward to a simple girls trip to Vegas to celebrate her birthday but it looks like it may turn to something more.

Warnings: walking in 6-inch heels, drinking with strangers, getting in a car with a stranger (I’m just saying that you should use your situational awareness)

Author’s Note: I was going to post this tomorrow but I currently cannot sleep even though I need to be up in five hours. I should be fine, it’s only 12 hour shift. 😒 The plan is to have this be a 3 or 4 chapter story as long as the outline in my head doesn’t go missing. Enjoy!

----

Despite a string of your favorite songs being played and being treated to a few free drinks--the only plus to the ridiculous birthday tiara your best friend made you wear, you just weren’t having a good time. You leaned on the bar in an attempt to give your feet some relief from the six-inch heels that Bianca roped you into wearing. Replaying your previous conversation in your head when you even dared to suggest wearing a pair of flats for their night out...

“I just want to be comfortable, Bi”, you whined while trying to keep a steady hand on your cheek while applying your eyeliner. There was no need to ruin your near perfect wing over this.

“You can’t wear your converses with a freakum dress”, Bianca yelled out from the living area of your hotel suite.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. One: it wasn’t a crime to not wear heels with any dress and two: your friend is out of her mind if she thought you were going to wear that dress outside of this room. This trip to Vegas was supposed to be a stress free trip to celebrate the start of your dirty thirties by enjoying public drinking, losing a bit of money, and eating your feelings in all you can eat crab legs. Unfortunately, your friend decided you owed her at least one night out dancing.

“Maybe I’ll just stay here then,” you said quietly to yourself.

You looked back into the mirror only to see Bianca standing by the door behind you with a look of disgust on her usually gorgeous face. “You can’t go to Vegas and not go out to the club and dance! You’re turning thirty, not sixty! Next you’ll be telling me you want to be in bed by midnight!”

“Actually, I’d like to be in bed by ten at the latest. There’s this salt grotto yoga class that starts around nine a.m. that I really want to try.”

“Salt grotto yo--girl, you’re killing me. No, no, no. You need to spend time at the club, not yoga.”

And so here you were, three minutes after ten with no end in sight and trapped in a dress that Bianca claimed looked hot on you. You would never admit it but she was right. The golden sequin long sleeved mini dress looked perfect against your brown skin. It had a deeper v-neck than any dress you wore before so you trusted the double sided tape would do its job. You were feeling yourself a bit and may or may not have checked yourself out in every mirror you passed. When your friend caught you once, you claimed you were making sure all the goods were tucked in where it belonged.

Looking over your shoulder, you scanned the crowd to see if you could spot your friend. It took a few beats but you were able to spot the tall blonde who was currently busy giving a very lucky guy what was basically a free lap dance on the dance floor.

“Jesus, child’s gonna grind his dick off.” you laughed into your drink. You knew you didn’t have room to talk, some odd years ago that was you on the dance floor, attempting to find a Mr. Right out of a club full of fuck boys. Fiddling with your wedding band, you were fortunate you hadn’t had to deal with that for years now.

As you downed the rest of your drink and got ready to order another one (hopefully another free one), you were engulfed in a hug. Alarmed at first until you looked down and saw the familiar tattooed arms of your friend.

“Y/N, I found you!” Bianca said into your ear as she squeezed you in a hug. “Come on, let’s go! This guy I met has a spot up in the VIP section!”

You turned your back against the bar to face your buzzed and possibly love struck friend. “Ugh, Bi. You know just being in the club is not my thing. I have no interest in being in the VIP either.”

“Please! I know it’s your birthday and all but this guy is so cute and his accent got me going like a water fountain.”

“I could have gone without the visual. Thanks.”

“Y/N, he has this friend--”

“Bi, no”

“Let me finish, just talk to him and keep him entertained.” Sensing that your stubborn self wasn’t going to budge, she decided to add “You know they have comfortable couches that you can sit on and get off your feet for a bit.”

“Well, why didn’t you lead with that?!” you yelled out.

Not allowing another moment to pass for you to change your mind, Bianca took your hand and led you to the other side of the club where the exclusive area was. You stumbled trying to keep your bearings while you tried to maneuver on the death traps she was on. You looked on and saw you were being led to a large black L-shaped couch occupied by two men who were in the middle of a conversation. Both of them stood up when they noticed you two approaching.

Well, I guess chivalry isn’t dead, you thought to yourself.

“Y/N, this is Marco,” she gestured toward the man next to her who now had his arm wrapped around her waist. “And this is his friend, Alex,” she said before mouthing out for you to be nice.

Alex took a step forward and held his hand out which you accepted. You quickly shifted your gaze up and down to take him in. He wasn’t bad to look at and if you were to be honest with yourself, he was fine as hell. The first thing you noticed, other than the fact that he towered over you which was not a rare thing with your short stature, was his smile. Beautiful, friendly and the warmth of it seemed to reach all the way to his blue eyes. A nice change from the predatory gazes and wolfish smiles you were getting while lingering at the bar.

“It’s nice to meet you”, he leaned down to say into your ear, aware that the booming music of the club making it hard to have a normal conversation. Your knees buckled slightly and you tried hard to convince yourself it was the shoes. If his friend sounded anything like him, then you had a complete understanding as to why Bianca was swooning so hard.

He motioned to the couch and stepped aside as you girls shuffled between the coffee table and couch to take a seat in the inner corner.

“So, how’s your guy’s night going?” Alex asked as he sat down next to you while Marco took his seat next to Bianca.

You were about to say that you were tired and ready to throw your shoes into the pits of hell but Biance beat you to the punch.

“We’re celebrating her birthday!” she shouted out.

“Birthday? How old are you?” questioned Marco as he draped his arm over Bianca’s shoulders.

Alex leaned toward his friend and gave him a light smack to the head, chastising him. At least it sounded like he was. You couldn’t even place what language he was speaking.

“I’m sorry for my friend he has no manners”, he apologized while flashing you a smile.

“I appreciate you defending my honor. It’s not that big of a deal to me. Now if he asked me how much I weighed, I might have to cut a bitch. But let’s see, I’m thirty years and…” you looked at your watch, “two days old now.”

Just as Alex seemed set to ask another question, the server returned with a round of drinks that were ordered while you were all taking your seats. You smirked to yourself as you observed her leaning over in an attempt to bring more attention to her plunging neckline. You couldn’t blame her. You were once a server in your past and wouldn’t hesitate to flirt or display your assets for extra tips but as she tried to make eyes with Alex, you had a feeling she was trying to get more than tips. Either the man was oblivious or just a courteous host who wanted to make sure you didn’t feel ignored.

A gesture you were very appreciative of since it seemed like your friend was currently occupied trying to get acquainted with Marco’s mouth. You turned your back towards them and raised your eyebrow at Alex after taking a sip of your drink. Both of you trying to ignore what your friends were upto.

“Are you having a good birthday at least?” he laid his arm across the back of the couch behind you. Smooth, you thought to yourself. It’s been over a decade since you were last in this position. Hope he doesn’t think he’s going to get lucky like his friend over there.

“It hasn’t been too bad. This night is more for Bianca than me since I’ll be ‘torturing’ her tomorrow with the cheesy things I want to do. If it was up to me, I’d probably be in bed by now.”

He laughed, “it’s not even midnight yet!”

“I know, I know!” you joined in with his laughter. “Bianca likes to say that I’m an official old lady but clubbing is not my scene anymore. I usually like to just stay home, catch up on my shows, and be in bed by eight at the latest.”

You went on to explain that, other than the fact the small city you lived in wasn’t known for it’s exciting nightlife, your early bedtime was mainly because you worked in a bakery. This led to him asking about all the sweets you could make him and you showing off all of your cake masterpieces you had saved on your phone. There was no moment where you felt like he was just humoring you, he seemed genuinely interested in what you deemed to be your craft.

“I just feel blessed to be doing something that I love,” you said as you put your phone away. “I’m sorry, I’m sure you didn’t want to spend your night talking about cakes and cookies.”

He shook his head, “Please, I don’t think you should ever apologize for talking about anything you’re passionate about.”

“Well, what about you? What do you do or what are you passionate about?”

“I am very passionate about being your potential cake tester,” he laughed as you rolled your eyes, “Just kidding. I am very passionate about photography.”

“Oh, so you’re a professional photographer?”

“I don’t know if I feel comfortable saying that I’m a professional yet, I’m still learning a few things,” he smiled coyly as he looked down toward his drink. “I just love trying to capture the beauty of the world in a way people don’t usually think of or getting those candid moments when someone doesn’t think anyone is looking. When they’re more open and have their guard down.”

“Well, remind me to not be around you and your camera. I like to be prepared for all pictures that are taken of me. Most candid shots make me look like a hot mess,” you joked. Those shots of you were thinking of were usually taken after you consumed multiple shots of alcohol.

“Oh, I really doubt that,” he said while he brought his gaze up and down, not even trying to hide what he was doing.

“Hey, Y/N!” Bianca shouted towards you, unknowingly interrupting the moment between you two, “It’s about eleven now but I’m feeling ready to go.”

Hallelujah, you thought. Although you were enjoying your conversation, there was a part of you who didn’t want to be further tempted by this man sitting in front of you.

You stood up to follow your friend and Marco as they both walked toward the exit hand in hand. Now you had no idea what exactly you stepped on but you cursed it and your shoes to hell as whatever it was caused you to stumble toward the ground. Luckily, a pair of arms wrapped around your torso, preventing your face from becoming close friends to the dirty club floor.

“Woah, are you okay there?” Alex said into your ear as he held you against him.

Good lord, he smells good, you thought to yourself. A part of you was enjoying the feel of his body against yours before you remembered he had asked you a question,“Yeah, I’m fine! Just fine!” you tried to steady yourself as you distanced yourself away from him. “These fucking shoes will be the death of me though.”

“Why wear them if they’re such a pain?”

“Apparently you can’t wear flats with a dress like this,” you brought your hand down your body to bring attention to the said dress.

Alex didn’t even try to stop his gaze from following your hand before he brought his eyes back to yours. “I don’t know. I think most people would be more distracted by the dress than what you’re wearing on your feet.” He ended his sentence with a bite of his bottom lip causing your cheeks to flush instantly.

You were grateful for the cool Vegas night air when you both stepped outside to meet up with your friends. Marco nodded his head over to the side, signaling to Alex to follow him.

Bianca grabbed your hand and pulled you closer to her.

“Okay, so a bit of a change of plans. I know you’re probably ready to go to sleep. So I’m just going to go with Marco to his hotel.”

“Mmhmm. Just leave me all by myself in our room. It’s only my birthday weekend but that’s fine if you want to spend it dicked down,” you gave a few fake sniffles to guilt Bianca over leaving you for some guy she met a couple hours ago. Honestly, you were happy for your friend but you never missed an opportunity to be a little shit.

“I mean, Marco’s friend isn’t too bad looking. Your fun-sized self could probably climb that man like a tree, I wouldn’t judge.”

You sighed and started twisting your ring around your finger. It was starting to become a nervous tick by now, “Bi, you know I ain’t doing that.”

“I know. I just think you should have nothing to feel guilty about if you wanted to try something new,” she said as she turned her gaze towards where Alex was standing. “I’m only saying this because I love you. You deserve better than what you have right now.”

“I love you too. But I just don’t know.” The two of you embraced as you tried to stop yourself from tearing up.

“You going to be okay, girl?” Bianca looked down at you and asked.

“I’ll be good,” you took a sharp inhale to stop any tears from falling, “Go on and have fun. Make sure you limber up though. Don’t want you pulling anything. I intend on taking you to that yoga class tomorrow.”

Bianca rolled her eyes as she pulled herself away from you and walked over to the Uber where Marco was waiting.

After ordering your own ride, you glanced over to watch on as your friend’s ride drove away and saw Alex sitting on the bench in the ride share area, hunched over trying to light a cigarette. You slowly walked over to him and took a seat next to him as you waited for your own ride to arrive.

“You decided not to go back with them and call it a night?”

“I don’t know, I’m not ancient like you,” he smirked at you as you pretended to be offended by his comment. “No, I didn’t feel like being a third wheel and I probably wouldn’t be falling asleep anytime soon. Marco’s not exactly quiet.”

“Yeah, I feel you on that one. Unfortunately, my poor ears have been exposed to sounds Bianca can make. Let's just say she’s a very enthusiastic performer,” you shivered both from the traumatic experience and from having more skin being exposed than you were used to.

“That’s great.” Alex took a drag of his cigarette. “I guess I can walk down the strip until the coast is clear.” He looked up and saw you trying your best to stay warm but failing. He stood up to take off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders before sitting back down.

“Thanks but you really don’t have to. My ride should be here soon,” you tried to protest but he just shook his head instead. You were sure he’d refuse to take his jacket back if you handed it to him.

You looked on toward the road, contemplating to yourself. You’re so close to a comfy bed and those million thread count sheets. You don’t owe this kid shit. Not your fault Bi got a hold of his friend and wants to ride his face raw. But it’s so sad for him to be wandering around by himself and making company with all the other lonely people on the strip. And he even gave you his coat. He can’t be that bad to be around. ARG! Fuck it.

“Hey, what is your stance on buffets because I don’t think I’ve had real food since lunch,” you offered, changing your original plans of just ordering room service.

“Honestly? They’re pretty much germ traps but it’s worth it if the food is good.”

“I knew we were on the same wavelength. Come on, I think that’s my Uber pulling up.” You said as you stood up and started walking toward the black sedan with Alex following close behind.

“Where are we going?”

“First stop is my room,” he raised an eyebrow at this statement, “where you will wait in the hallway while I change into some comfier clothes and shoes that won’t kill me.”

End Notes: Do you think our dear Reader will force poor Alex to wait in the cold hallway? Or is she just ready to risk it all? What will they choose at the buffet? Do you enjoy dining at a buffet? All these questions may be answered...eventually.

#alex høgh x reader #alex høgh andersen #alex høgh imagine #alex hogh andersen #alex høgh andersen x reader #alex høgh andersen imagine #alex hogh andersen imagine #alex hogh andersen x reader

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aurorawest · 3 years

Note

⭐️⭐️

I decided to go with this section from chapter 5 of Will you be my festar-man? Love and courtship in the New Asgardian court (or, How Loki Stopped Worrying and Proposed to Stephen Strange)!

Chapter 5 is the hårkullornas, a word I...kind of made up. But the thing itself is based on a real concept. This is the chapter where Loki weaves the thing out of his hair and Stephen’s hair. In this bit, Loki has just arrived at the Sanctum:

With a snort, Loki said “We will not be checking on her. That very much sounds like a job for the Sorcerer Supreme.” Glancing at the door that the creature had been trying to come through, which was now innocuously open to a sun-dappled, grassy hillside, Loki said, “That wasn’t the thing you were after the other night, was it?”

“No,” Stephen said. “That thing was a lot uglier.”

Callback to earlier in the chapter, when Stephen comes over to New Asgard to bone, then leaves to go fight some sort of creature.

I find that there’s a ton of comedic potential in Stephen’s enemies. I love to make reference to all these kinds of ridiculous things and play them off as funny. Tonally, think Beetlejuice, Ghostbusters, that kind of thing—where yeah, this stuff would be at home in a horror story, but I play it for laughs. The modern Doctor Strange comics do this a lot too.

“Mm hm.” Loki motioned to his own hair and said, “You have something on your head.”

Stephen reached up and felt the glop in his hair. “Probably calls for a shower.”

Smiling slightly, Loki asked, “Am I invited?”

“Well,” Stephen said, “it’s in your hair too, so yeah.”

When Loki made a face, Stephen chuckled. He opened a portal in the floor, draining the amniotic fluid to—somewhere. Sometimes Loki wondered if Stephen sent things like this to the same pocket dimension that he’d once sent Loki to. It was sort of an insulting thought. He’d get annoyed, but Stephen had apologized long ago for that.

We actually see this moment in my fic but it hasn’t been posted yet.

Once the fluid drained away, Stephen teleported them straight to the bathroom, where both of them stripped off their clothes. The Sanctum’s shower was really too small for the two of them to be in there at the same time, but it had never stopped them. Loki had to reach around Stephen for the soap and shampoo, which gave him the opportunity to lean against Stephen’s back and kiss his shoulder. Stephen grabbed Loki’s arm and wrapped it around his stomach, and Loki pulled him back against his own chest, leaving his lips pressed against Stephen’s skin.

Their positioning was very purposeful. One of my biggest pet peeves in the Loki fandom is like...really rigid gender norms, wherein Loki is feminized to an absurd degree. The kind of gender norms where Loki can’t top. Loki can’t be the big spoon. Loki can’t stand behind Stephen and hug him. Having Loki be even mildly more ‘dominant’ here (in that he pulls Stephen back against him) was a...counterpoint to that.

Loki’s clothes weren’t in much of a state to put back on, so he changed into some of Stephen’s. This was, personally, never his favorite thing to do, though he had to admit that the old sweatshirt and sweatpants were comfortable.

There’s a head canon that floats around out there that Loki would love to lounge in Stephen’s comfy clothes. I don’t agree with that at all, but I do love the image of Loki in Stephen’s clothes.

Unstylish, but comfortable.

I hc that Stephen is incredibly poorly dressed, and Loki is forever exasperated by it.

His own clothes got balled up, stuck in a garbage bag, and vanished to his pocket dimension to deal with later.

Aka, never, probably.

“In the interest of full disclosure,” Stephen said, “Music in the Park is happening again tonight.”

I had to add this because I realized it was Friday again, and I had established in chapter 3 that Music in the Park happens on Fridays in Washington Square Park.

“Not Haydn, I take it?”

“Mahler.”

“Ah. You must like Mahler.”

Stephen was still dressed only in his underwear, possibly because he was waiting to hear if they were going out, possibly because he just liked the way Loki was looking at him. With a shrug, he said, “What can I say; I like the Romantics.”

The amount of time I spent looking at various classical artists to determine which ones Stephen hates and which ones Stephen loves is honestly a little sad. I always say there’s like, a little Stephen Strange in my head, and he tells me what music he likes and what he doesn’t like (I realize that makes me sound like a crazy person). I have a Stephen’s Favorite Songs playlist, and there are songs on there that personally, I don’t really care for. But Stephen does! I just know it. I knew that Stephen would like the Romantic composers, but I had to find just the right one. And Mahler it was.

Rubbing at his damp hair, Loki looked at Stephen’s bed. There was a stack of books on the bedside table. Considering his current sartorial choices, sitting in bed and reading seemed like a better option than going out.

Plus…the hårkullornas. Perhaps it was better to give it to Stephen sooner rather than later.

Which could be said for other things, once the hårkullornas was out of the way.

Some innuendo.

Stephen was looking at him, waiting for an answer. There was a t-shirt in his hands, open and ready to be donned. Loki smiled at him. “If we stay in, does that mean you won’t get dressed?”

With a laugh, Stephen said, “Let me put a shirt on at least, Odinson. We have to leave something to the imagination once in awhile.”

Personally, Loki was hoping it was one of the shirts that was tight enough that it didn’t leave all that much to the imagination.

Loki is so horny for Stephen.

[...] Loki held a hand out. The box with the hårkullornas appeared in his palm and he turned to face Stephen, thrusting the box at him. “Here. I made this for you.”

“Made what?” Stephen asked, pulling his shirt over his head. There was the barest flicker of trepidation on his face when he emerged. “It’s not more food, is it?” When Loki gave him a nonplussed look, Stephen said, “So…no?”

“I learned my lesson with the cake,” Loki said. Not really; the rest of the courtship just didn’t require any baking.

I love to make Loki tell really minor lies, and this is a really good example. Oh no, I wouldn’t bake anything else, Stephen! No he totally would have if he needed to, but he sees absolutely no harm in telling this white lie.

And it was a good thing, too, because he didn’t think he’d be able to get Stephen to eat another baked good that he’d made.

“You’re a good cook,” Stephen said. “Just…maybe stick to Kringla Bakery for the other stuff.”

Kringla Bakery is the name of the bakery in the Norway Pavilion in Epcot at Walt Disney World. They have eplekake on the menu, which I did not realize until last time I was there a few weeks ago. Eplekake is the recipe Loki uses as a base for the cake he makes Stephen in chapter 3. We really came full circle on this one.

Rolling his eyes, Loki said, “Noted. Are you going to open that? I promise it isn’t food. Or the vague approximation of food.”

Kringla Bakery, honestly. New Asgard’s sole bakery catered to tourists and tourists only. Loki wouldn’t be caught dead in there.

New Asgard as a tourist destination is endlessly entertaining to me. It’s really versatile, too. Sometimes I play it for laughs, sometimes I turn it into this really kind of wistful, sad thing. This is supposed to be funny, hopefully obviously.

Thank you so much for asking!!

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

#froststrange #strangefrost #loki #stephen strange #wybmfm #Anonymous

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rhetoricalrogue · 4 years

Text

31 Days of Wayhaven, Day 17

Prompt: AU Rating: PG for Nicky’s language Words: 2,222 Characters: Unit Charlie, brief mention of Units Alpha and Bravo, as well as Detective Aubrey Miller. Summary: What happens when the coffee shop co-worker and the University co-worker get tired of their partners sighing over the other and decide to take matters into their own hands.

For the @31daysofwayhaven event.

Penny rolled her eyes as she came into work, hanging her coat on the nearby staff coat rack. Nicky had gotten there earlier than she had, which meant that he got to pick the music for the day, which also meant that she was going to be in for a day of listening to him sing along with Dean Martin. Not that it was a bad thing, but they’d done an entire shift of the Rat Pack the other day already.

“You’re late.”

She grimaced as she pulled on a dark brown apron and quickly pulled the strings around her waist to make a tidy bow at her hip. “Yeah, car trouble.”

Nicky shook his head. “You really ought to sell that thing, get you a new one.”

“With what money? No, the car trouble was because my brother decided to borrow it without asking me. I woke up to a note and had to grab the bus. Then the bus wasn’t on time, so I walked the rest of the way.”

He poured her a drink, a smooth hazelnut latte with a dusting of chocolate on top that he made perfectly to her tastes. At least that was something to cheer her up on a rainy morning, especially since he was practicing his foam art and made her a graceful looking swan on top. She caught a glimpse of herself in the stainless steel overhead countertops and winced. The soft, drizzling rain wasn’t enough to soak her or anything, but it had played hell with her long, silvery blonde hair. The sleek braided bun she had put it in earlier was now a frizzed out mess and her cheeks were unnaturally red from practically running to the cafe in order to be there on time.

Penny hated being late to anything.

“You’re too soft on Lars,” Nicky told her, pushing half a toasted bagel loaded with cream cheese her way while eating the other half. “He needs to have some responsibility, especially if he’s couch surfing at your place.”

Penny chewed on her bagel. “You don’t understand, he’s my baby brother. It’s my job to look out for him. Besides,” she took a sip of her drink. “He was going out for a job interview. Hopefully this one takes.” She adored her youngest brother to pieces, and she understood that he was in a rough patch, but at the same time, she was quietly frustrated that he showed up at her doorstep without calling first, ate all her food without shopping for replacements, and left his dirty laundry on the bathroom floor. She was going to have to have a talk with him once they were home to set some boundaries down. If not, then she would happily call their eldest brother Andreas to see if he could help out before calling the big guns in and contacting their mother.

She hated to jump around in the family pecking order, but enough was enough.

“I can relate, seeing as I have a little sister, but I still say you’re being too soft on him. There’s a fine line between older sibling responsibility and being a doormat.”

“I know, and you’re right. Taking my car without my permission and making me late for work is definitely something I’m going to talk with him about.”

Nicky made a mmhm noise as if he didn’t quite believe her. “Don’t worry, Pen.” Nicky told her, changing the subject as he made his own cortado and leaned against the counter to sip on it. “You didn’t miss him.”

She was glad that her red cheeks could hide the sudden blush that she felt rush up from her throat to her face. “Miss who?”

“Oh, don’t play coy with me, donna forte!” He elbowed her in the side. “The Tall London Fog with the soft Scottish accent. The one who looks like a golden retriever if a golden retriever was over six feet tall and had dimples when he smiled.”

“Careful, you make me think you’re the one with the crush on him,” Penny muttered as she sipped on her drink.

“Please, I know I’m handsome and charming, but I’m not an asshole. I wouldn’t steal anyone from my dearest friend and co-worker.”

“You’re not stealing anyone from anybody,” she grumped.

“Maybe if you actually got off your ass and asked him out.”

“He’s a customer!”

“Like that’s ever stopped anyone that works here! I mean, have you seen what the Bravo shift is up to lately? There’s good money on when Adam’ll get the courage up to ask Miss Grande Half-Caff Nonfat Latte with Caramel Drizzle out before the end of the month.”

Penny rolled her eyes. “Adam? Admitting he has feelings for anyone? I give him a year, minimum.”

“Hello, Pot. I’d like to introduce you to Kettle.” He turned to wash out the things he’d used to make their drinks and kicked at her calf. “Speaking of not admitting feelings, here comes London Fog and Dirty Chai.”

Penny masked the sudden lurch in her pulse by twirling around and grabbing the loose leaf tea from an overhead shelf and measured enough into a French Press, adding a spice mix and a little bit of fresh ginger before pouring in hot water to steep. She grabbed the canister of lavender Earl Grey she knew he liked and did the same in a separate French Press while Nicky called out a greeting, confirming that they both wanted their usuals.

“Actually,” London Fog said, coming up to the counter. “Could I add something a little more substantial? Perhaps one of those sausage rolls and a slice of pumpkin loaf? I fear today is going to be a long one, seeing as it’s grading season.”

“Oh? You’re a teacher then?”

“He’s a professor,” Dirty Chai interjected, already setting up her laptop. She’d moved from their usual two-person table to a larger four-person one so the both of them could spread out. “Don’t let him get modest; he’s brilliant in his field.”

Penny looked over her shoulder as she brewed a double shot espresso to add to the chai. “Where do you lecture at?”

The soft question had him looking up at her with an equally soft smile before he quickly looked down, suddenly very interested in the counter’s bakery display. “Wayhaven University. I’m one of the Professors in the Folklore and Ethnomusicology department.”

Nicky took over building their order when another person came in and distracted Penny. “What a coincidence,” he all but purred. “Our dearest Penelope is studying on that campus!” He caught the sudden interest London Fog gave and leaned conspiratorially against the counter. “She’s going back for her master’s degree, if I remember correctly.”

“Oh? What study?”

“You know, for the life of me, I can’t recall. Sounds like an interesting question to ask her though, Professor…?” Nicky trailed off, realizing that neither he or Penny knew their regulars by name, only by order.

“Buchanan. Cameron.”

“Call him Cam,” Dirty Chai said, taking her order and sipping with a happy sigh. “I’m Winona.”

“Nice to finally meet you both. I’ll go warm up that sausage roll for you.” On his way to the back kitchen, Nicky nudged Penny with his shoulder, silently winking at her. She turned her face so Cam and Winona wouldn’t be able to see her expression and narrowed her eyes at her partner before going back to helping the short line of customers that had already started to form for the morning, shaking her head as the first heartfelt strings of Come Back to Sorrento could be heard coming out of the kitchen, Nicky’s smooth baritone making one of the ladies in line sigh dreamily.

Penny transitioned from building orders to taking payment while Nicky bustled in behind her on cleanup and prep duty, the two of them working well. Every so often, her eyes would stray to Cameron and Winona’s table, the two of them with their heads down and fingers clacking over their laptops. Two hours later, Cameron was looking at his watch and cursing under his breath while quickly packing his things away.

“Thanks for letting us stay so long,” he said, sticking money in the tip jar.

“It was nothing,” she told him, fiercely hoping he didn’t catch the way the tips of her ears were a bright pink. “I’m glad you could stay with me - us long enough to get some grading done.”

He smiled and she couldn’t help but mirror the same smile back. “I’d have loved to spend more time, but my office hours are going to be starting soon and I usually have a few students wanting to talk around this time of the year.”

“We’re always here in the mornings!” Oh, smooth one, Fisher, she thought, mentally kicking herself for forgetting how to talk to people when the person in question was one she had a silly crush on. Don’t flirt with customers, it’s just an awkward experience for everyone involved!

Cameron nodded. “And stopping by is always a great start to my day. Your partner mentioned you were studying at the university?”

“I am.”

Cameron shouldered his laptop bag and smiled again. “Maybe we’ll run into the other on campus then.”

“I’d like that.”

“I would too.” He blinked, as if he had been reluctant to break eye contact. “Well, I’d better get going, or else I’m going to miss some student appointments. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Bright and early!” Or so she hoped. She really was going to have to speak with Lars about him getting his own transportation. Penny sighed as the bell over the door chimed and tried - and failed - to not watch as Cameron walked down the street.

“He’s not that old.”

Penny jumped at the sudden appearance of Winona at the counter. “Pardon?”

“Cam. He’s not that old, just in case you were worried he was some stuffy professor with a really good skin regimen.”

She let out a nervous laugh. “I wasn’t…” Penny nervously tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear. “I mean, I didn’t want to presume…”

“Like I said, Cam’s brilliant in his field and made career moves way before the usual timeline. I’m guessing he’s around your age.” She put more money in the tip jar. “You know, if that was a deal-breaker for you.” Before Penny could say anything in response, Winona waved and left.

Penny ran a hand down her face before frowning. There was something other than money in the tip jar. Curiosity getting the best of her, she fished it out, finding it was a business card with all of Cameron’s information on it.

FYI, a woman’s loopy handwriting in bright red ink read at the bottom, your partner wrote down your phone number on a napkin when he gave Cam his order. Thought I should even the playing field and give you his too.

Penny’s eyes widened as she flipped the card over. And BTW, he thinks you’re cute too.

“Whatcha got?” Penny all but jumped out of her skin at the sound of Nicky’s voice unexpectedly at her ear as he tried to look at the card in her hands.

“Nothing!” she yelped, clutching it close to her chest before sticking it into her apron’s pocket. Turning around, she grabbed Nicky by the ear. “And what are you doing, giving strange men my phone number!”

Nicky winced, leaning down as he tried to wiggle away from her grasp. “He’s not strange, Pen! He’s a regular! Practically family! Ow, fuck!”

She let his ear go. “You could have asked me if it was okay first!”

Nicky rubbed at his ear and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and at the glacier pace that either of you were moving, you may have gone out for drinks when you were both eighty.”

She washed her hands at the prep sink and started making sure that everything they’d used was washed and ready for a new order. Lunchtime was a sort of quiet lull, they got a few regular orders in, but it wasn’t anywhere near the morning rush. She checked the schedule. The Alpha shift was coming in for the afternoon to evening times, which meant that she needed to come in a little earlier tomorrow morning to make sure that things had been properly cleaned and organized and that the morning breakfast items were fully stocked. She loved them to pieces, but Tane and Maaka weren’t the most organized of duos. She made a mental note to check the to-go cups as well: Tane had a habit of using a marker to black out the Warning, your contents are extremely hot and make it read Warning, you are extremely hot instead.

The good thing is that on dead nights, the brothers would come up with some interesting off the menu recipes and leave notes for her and Nicky to try in the morning. Maaka was more organized than his brother and the notes were always fun to read, especially when he added his own commentary.

“You never know,” she told Nicky, the business card in her pocket weighing far heavier than it ought to. “I just may surprise you.”

Cha cha cha d'amour

Take this song to my lover

Shoo shoo little bird

Go and find my love

#31daysofwayhaven #Unit Charlie #fell into a hole today regarding my writing #AU #when coffeeshop au meets college au

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