#It did come with a small cup and a saucer though

[thewirewitch]

I'd use either the gas cans or the Nintendo Wii

Introducing: cursed tea "kettles" I found on google

Hal 9000 (domesticated)

The slab

Gas cans

Precambrian little guy

Nintendo wii

[jpitha]

Hospitality

Meandering River and Q'ari sit in the canteen during midday break chatting and drinking some herbal tea. The Humans introduced both the drink and the meal. They call it 'Lunch' and while only the Humans seem to need the calories supplied by the meal, the break and the tea has proven to be a big hit among the other sapients...so long as they stay away from the poisonous teas. There are a lot of poisonous teas. Most everyone can have chamomile though.

The conversation meanders as they do, and eventually, they both come to talking about things they've noticed about the humans, one of the more recent additions to the Coalition. Everybody has their own cultural and biological quirks, but the conversations has been steering towards the humans lately. Everyone is a little too quick to point out that It's not that they're... weird, it's just the differences.

Q'ari puts her tea down with a clink on the small porcelain saucer. "Did you know that the Humans have a whole thing about being nice to visitors? It’s called 'hospitality' and they have almost entire religions about it!"

"What? They have religions about being nice to people you meet?" Meandering River said, as her feathers rustle, reflecting shimmering colors.

"Pretty much! My guess is that living on their world is so hard that they just felt obligated to help people who were passing through their village or peer group or whatever. The idea was that no matter who shows up - even their enemy - you give them a meal and a bath and let them have a nap and point them towards where they need to go if they're lost." Q'ari took another sip of tea. "You weren't even supposed to ask them questions about who they were or what they were doing!"

Meander was baffled. "But that makes no sense! What if the person was going to hurt you or your group? You had no way of knowing. Better to just let them pass by, and not interact."

"Yes, but the idea is the next time it was you traveling, you'd get help from others too." Nancy said from behind them.

Q'ari fur poofed out and Meander's feathers rippled in surprise and they both slid their chairs back to jump away before stopping themselves and sitting down, tea spilled everywhere. Predator/Prey reactions were deeply ingrained in Innari and Sefigans, and Humans were exceptionally good predators, even when they didn't mean to be.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Nancy said, seeing their reaction. "I didn't mean to startle you! I just heard you talking about hospitality. People everywhere don't treat it like the religion it used to be, but it's still a common thing that people do. Here -" she said gesturing on her pad "Let me buy you both another Tea to say sorry for spilling yours. Chamomile, right? I feel so badly about startling you."

"I-It's all right, we know you didn't mean to." Meander says, smoothing their feathers automatically. We were just fascinated by the concept of hospitality. Please, join us." She gestures towards a chair.

Nancy sits down, and wipes away some of the spilled tea with a napkin. "Being polite to strangers is just something that's taught from an early age. It's not done everywhere, and it's not done the same way, but it's still done. It's... complicated though." Nancy said, as a serv platform came over with two fresh cups of tea. After it had left, she continued. "Codifying being nice to strangers and offering them a place to stay and food to eat is a way that people could travel in the time before money and hotels, but also, it could be used as a shield against forming real friendships."

"What do you mean by that? If you're inviting strangers into your house, wouldn't that help make friends?" Meander said, blowing on her tea to cool it slightly.

"Well, it could. But if the whole process is ritualized and formal, then you could use it to keep 'foreign' people at arms length. Sure, you'd invite them in, let them sleep, bathe, eat, but you'd send them on their way in the morning and that would be it. There would be no connection, no friendship. There is a long, long history of being nice without being friendly."

"It's all very confusing." Q'ari said. "There seems to be a lot of implied connections, and ritualized actions that on the surface appear kind, but may - or may not - be, depending on thousands of different things."

Nancy nodded. "Hey, things are never black and white. There is always nuance. I'm sure it's even the same way between you and your people. Q'ari, you're not originally from Sef, the homeworld, right?"

Q'ari's teddy bear shaped ears waggled. "That's right. I grew up on Llamanian, one of our middle tier colony worlds."

"And even though you are a Sefigan citizen, when you go to Sef sometimes you get treated like an outsider, right?"

"Well, I suppose a bit, yes." Q'ari's finely laquered claws slid out of their sheaths, just a centimeter. "They say that my gelbin isn't the same as on Sef. Er, that's a traditional vegetable dish." She adds, for their benefit.

Meander's crest slides up and then back down. "I've had your gelbin Q'ari, it's delicious! What could possibly be wrong?"

She shrugs, a decidedly human gesture. "The spices are wrong, they say. We have different versions due to the ecology and soil of Llamanian, even if I were to use the exact same spices in the exact same proportions, it wouldn't taste the same."

"It's not just humans. Everyone has things that are different, and people - no matter which sapient group they are - will use those differences against them sometimes." Nancy said, taking a sip of tea. "Knowing that it happens, and keeping an eye out for it, and having some understanding, can go a long way. But, that doesn't mean we shouldn't be nice to strangers when we meet them. After all, they might be the Gods in disguise!" Nancy's eyes sparkle when she said that."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you see a people called the Greeks believed that..."

[http-shield]

my coffee?- bucky barnes

~ bucky barnes x fem!reader ~tags/cw: fluff, established friendships/budding romance, set in CA:CW timeline where Bucky is in Romania trying to piece back together his life, mixed POV, divination (coffee reading) slight sexual themes, reader is helping bucky try to find some sense of normalcy within his life, human reader, bucky is a lil lovesick loser, lil old world slavic witchy magic, ~ wc: 1.3k ~ not proofread "Do you want me to read your coffee?" Bucky tilts his head. "My coffee?" 

Rain pelts the window as a summer storm rolls over the city.

It had come in quick, the thunder starting only ten minutes before the sky opened and unleashed chaos upon the unprepared populous. You had been halfway home, plastic bags swinging at your side full of groceries as the sky groaned, flashes of lighting backlighting the mountains as you took in the darkness of the clouds building. Your steps hurried, smelling rain on the warm breeze, knowing you only had minutes to reach home.

The heaviness of the bags slows you down, plastic digging into your fingers painfully enough to warrant a reshuffle of the load. Water begins to splatter the cobblestones around you, hitting the earth with soft plinks, and you start to rush, moving items from one bag to another in an effort to distribute the weight evenly, but just as quickly as the rain began, the cold drops sliding down your exposed back stop. You look up from your work, feeling a presence hover above you and are greeted by a smiling Bucky. He stands over you, your pink umbrella held high over your head, and you stare up at him, dumbfounded. 

"What are you- How did you…?" the question comes out in jumbled words as he bends to lift the bags.

His smile is one of ease, mischief lurking behind blue eyes at your blatant surprise. 

"I heard the thunder and realised you didn't take your umbrella, so I came looking for you," he shrugs as though it were the most casual explanation in the world. 

"You came looking for me?" 

"I know the route you take, and you were either walking home or still shopping." The plastic bags are strung over his left arm, and he extends the right one, holding a space for you to loop yours through his.

"You came looking for me." you can't help the smile that spreads across your face as you link limbs. 

"Of course." the way he smiles has your heart stuttering in your chest. 

Bucky begins to walk, setting the pace as you hurry to reach proper shelter. The rain gets heavier with each passing second. You try to suppress the grin, your teeth digging into your bottom lip, but it remains, cheeks aching and burning at his thoughtfulness. 

—-

"Do you want me to read your coffee?" you ask excitedly as he drinks the last of the brewed drink, setting the small cup back into the saucer. 

Bucky tilts his head. "My coffee?" 

You nod, a wordless answer as you scooch closer to him, hands reaching for the porcelain. His watchful gaze follows you, eyes following the lines of your body as you bend forward, dressed in only your pyjama shorts and oversized t-shirt, and he in a black shirt and sweatpants. There is a comfortability between the two of you, the knowledge of who he is, and it has been long established that he no longer has to hide his mental appendage. His heart aches at that. How you had accepted him for all he had done, knowing who and what he was.

Your bare leg brushing against his left arm has his thoughts deviating from the warmth that fills his chest at your kindness to a different kind of warmth blooming deeper. The rain had been both a blessing and a curse as it soaked you both through regardless of the umbrella he had bought. It had started coming down at an angle, and there was no way he could fight against it as you ran. By the time you crossed the threshold into the lobby, your entire body was drenched, clothes sticking to you in a way that held nothing for the imagination, and Bucky had to look away, turning his attention to the bags full of rain splattered groceries. That familiar heat returned to his stomach and only intensified as you began to climb the stairs, taking them two at a time before him, reaching the apartment in record time. He had kept his gaze averted as you tried to unpack the shopping, water dripping from your fingers while you dug through bags, but Bucky pushed you away. His hands gripping your shoulders, he steered you towards the bathroom, instructing you to get out of the wet clothes in fear of catching a cold, something he had heard you mutter to him a thousand times over the first time he had turned up at your door soaking wet from the rain. With the door slammed shut, he had a moment to breathe. To try and address the feeling in his stomach that had begun to pool into a sea of fire. To fix the issues that had started growing. Shame filled his cheeks, unable to think of you like that first and foremost, but secondly, how had such a simple and innocent image of you been enough to have his mind spiralling like that?  He shakes the thought away again as he focuses back on the present. 

You're holding the chipped tea cup, upturned on the plate. 

"My grandma taught me this when I was younger." You explain, eyes trained on the crockery. "Apparently, she had the gift." 

"The gift?" Bucky queries. 

"Yeah, the gift. Sight. Knowledge, you know?" you wiggle the fingers of your free hand as though casting a spell. 

"So, like a witch?" 

"Basically."

Bucky hums, watching as you flip the cup over and smile, whispering words as though they were an incantation.  His attention is rapt as you twist and turn the mug, eyes narrowing at shapes he cannot see. 

"Oh, ova e odličen znak." the foreign words tumble from your mouth before you can stop them. 

"It's a good sign?" Bucky is quick to answer in english, suddenly very eager in his fortune regardless of how silly he thinks this is.

You raise an eyebrow at him. "How did you-"

"I speak Russian, remember?" he leans in and flicks your forehead with his right hand.

"But that wasn't Russian." you rub at the spot is fingers had just hit but it doesn’t hurt.

"Close enough." he shrugs, inching closer to get a look into the cup. Your shampoo fills his nose, the lavender scent soothing something within him. 

"Okay, okay." you brush off the questions that begin to rise within you. "Let's see." 

You examine the cup further, turning it over to Bucky, and you point out shapes and figures made in the rivers of coffee. He sees nothing but blobs of brown but nods along anyway, enjoying how you feel as you lean further into him. His heart begins to race, his ribs not used to the pace it sets. 

"You are going to live a good, long life, Mr. Barnes." you finally announce, handing the cup to him. 

"Anything else?" fingers brush over yours, sending shivers across his skin. 

"There was a cat and a house." You think for a moment, and he worries that the following words from your mouth won't be so happy. "Something about a girl and a kid." 

"A girl?" his mouth quirks up. "Like a wife?"

The answer is a nod and a soft smile. 

"You're lying!" the accusation comes out a little louder than he intended but is followed by a laugh as he shoves the cup back in your hands.

"I am not!" you shriek back, turning the mug back around, finger-pointing to the most prominent smudge at the bottom. "See, a pregnant woman!" 

Utter bullshit. It is a clump of coffee grounds. 

But he doesn't say that, doesn't dismiss the happy future you had almost entirely made up. Instead, he looks at you, his lip worried between his teeth. "Nothing about…before?" 

"Nope." With a shake of your head, you put his mind at ease. "As far as the cup is concerned, there was never a before." Soft fingers push his hair back behind his ear, curling around the edge of his jaw. Bucky leans into your touch, his body relaxing as your thumb begins to stroke soothing lines across his cheek.

Bucky knows you're lying. There will always be a before with him, and until you, he rarely thought there would be an after, but right now, with your strange and probably very untrue predictions, he cannot stop himself from wishing it would come true.

[darksigns-exe]

strange magic - witch!nick ruffilo x f!reader

warnings: Discussions of mental health, depression, anxiety, mentions of self-harm, knife related injury

word count: 4.2k

notes: I’m reading The Full Moon Coffee Shop by Mai Mochizuki at the moment, and it might have influenced some parts of this.

dividers by @saradika-graphics <3

masterlist | series masterlist | taglist sign-up

You don’t remember where exactly you’d heard his name for the first time. Someone in your circle of friends had mentioned going to see him about a minor health issue they’d been struggling with and that no conventional doctor had been able to fix. It had taken them one visit to cure said ailment. 

Now, you didn’t expect a miracle cure, but at this point you’d take anything. Whatever it takes to make this feeling disappear. No psychiatrist or therapist had helped, you’d tried everything. 

Magic or something akin to it didn’t seem too unrealistic of an option at this point. Your friend hadn’t been entirely clear on what this guy exactly did or was, all they had mentioned was that his methods were unconventional. 

Armed with the address and maybe a little too much hope, you set off. The place is located in a wooded area, set quite a bit back from the main road. You park near the front of the driveway and walk the rest of the way, just like your friend had told you to do. 

The twisted path that leads you through the woods turns you around entirely, and after a few minutes you have no idea which way you’re oriented or from which direction you’ve come. 

Every step leads you deeper into this forest. As the trees grow taller and thicker, light and warmth become scarce, and you pull your jacket tighter around your body to ward off the chill. 

The path makes another sharp turn and suddenly, you find yourself faced with an almost dream-like glade. Light pours into the space, filling it with warm, golden sunlight. In the middle, sits a lone cottage. It looks a little ramshackle, the roof is tilted in an odd way, and you think that some of the beams must be old and slowly giving into the weight of the roof. There’s something comforting about the place, though. 

The door swings open just as you reach the three steps that lead up the small porch. The glimmering little trinkets and chimes that hang from the roof above it catch your attention. Despite the mass of things that are placed all over the porch and in the windows, it doesn’t feel cluttered. Everything is where it needs to be. 

Your attention is drawn to a sun catcher that seems to be made out of broken pieces of coloured glass and mirror. The little specks of sunlight it scatters all across you and the space around you are mesmerising. Perhaps you should find one like this for your own home. 

“Pretty isn’t it?” someone speaks from behind you and you find yourself twitching with panic. 

When you turn around, you find that the source of the voice is a young man with dark hair. He squints at you for a moment, before an apologetic smile works its way onto his face, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Would you like to come in?” You’re sure that this isn’t the man you’re supposed to see, he seems way too young to be some kind of miracle healer. Maybe he’s an apprentice or other kind of aide to this Nicholas. 

You follow him into the cabin. The inside is surprisingly simple, yet incredibly inviting. Most of the space is taken up by a large wooden table. It has dents and scratches in its surface that tell more stories than any person could. Warm light floods through the room, but you can’t find a single light source. The fireplace can’t be responsible for all the light in here. 

“Sit. Please.” he motions towards one of the chairs by the table. 

You hang your jackets over the back of the chair before you sit. He doesn’t sit, instead he walks over to the wooden counter. You watch as he searches through one of the shelves, until he produces two mismatched cups and saucers. 

“I hope you found the place alright?” he asks, as he picks up a variety of tins from a different shelf. 

“A friend of mine came here a few weeks ago and her directions were pretty good.” you reply.

He nods sagely, as if he knows exactly who you are talking about. 

“Your friend is feeling better? Her condition was quite worrisome.”

“It’s almost as if she was never unwell.” 

Your answer brings a smile to his face, “That’s good to hear. I don’t usually get to hear about the people who come here after they leave.”

He walks towards the fireplace and with the help of a seemingly hand knit pot holder, he retrieves the kettle hanging in front of it. He then proceeds to fill both cups with water before returning the kettle to its previous place. 

He places one of the cups in front of you, while the other is placed in front of the seat to your right at the head of the table. 

“So – you heard that your friend found the aid they needed here and decided that you would follow in their footsteps and find me. What can I do for you?”

“You are Nicholas?” you finally ask as the puzzle begins to make sense. 

His cheeks tinge the faintest shade of pink, “My apologies. Nick is perfectly fine. Nicholas always creates that image of a wise old wizard, and I’m —” he looks down his own body, “Not that.” 

The tone of his voice makes you smile. 

There’s something awfully comforting about him. Something about him sets you at ease, despite the deep-rooted worry that sits in your chest.  

“Can I see your palm?” Nick asks gently, holding out his tattooed hand to you. 

You place your hand, palm facing up, in his and he carefully pulls your hand a little closer to him. He tilts your hand for a moment, as if he is searching for something specific. The pointer finger of his other hand traces across the lines and creases in your hand with a barely there touch. 

The noise he eventually lets out feels a little unsatisfied. 

“The metaphysical can tell us a lot. But it is not without faults. It doesn’t take an expert to see that whatever it is that worries you has been with you for a long time. I can do a lot of things, dear, but I cannot magic away feelings and emotions.” He says eventually, “I can however try to help you find the root of this. That is the best I can offer you.”

For a moment, you feel defeated. Another person who wouldn’t be able to help. At this point, it really does feel a little hopeless. The darkness slowly creeps into your vision, that awful tightness returns to your chest. You can feel yourself getting dizzy and –

And then Nick’s hand curls around yours. It doesn’t stop the panic entirely, but his touch slowly the creeping darkness significantly. 

“Try to breathe. You’re safe here.” his voice soothes your nerves, wraps around you like honey, “Only very few people have left this place without an answer to their question, and I don’t think that you will be one of them.”

You don’t know why, but you want to believe him. 

“So many people said that they could help, but nothing ever came of it.” you say quietly, “I just want to stop feeling this way.” 

Nick lets out a heavy sigh, “I know what it feels like to feel left alone. If I could, I would take all of it away. But unfortunately, in this case, altering the mind is not something I’m allowed to do. I will try to help you as best as I can, though.” 

He gives your hand a little squeeze, before he releases it again.

Nick is silent for a moment, seemingly mulling through his thoughts. He gets up then. The scrape of his chair against the wooden floor takes you by surprise. He utters a quick apology, before he disappears into a distant corner of the room.

You finally have a moment to inspect the space around you. It’s as close to a witch's hut as you could imagine. Bundles of dried herbs and flowers dangle from the low wooden beams that support the upper level. Every surface is covered in trinkets and items, and you’re sure that they all have their designated spaces. The cobblestone wall above the fireplace is adorned with a pentacle made out of what you think is willow branches. They’re woven around each other to give it more structure, and in the space between the branches small flowers have been placed. You faintly remember reading that pentacle being are used for protection. 

Your eyes drift across the cluttered table in front of you and eventually land on your still steaming cup of tea. You finally take a sip of it. 

The taste of it is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You can’t identify every component of it, and really it doesn’t matter too much. All you know is that it feels like a long overdue hug. The first sip is enough to fill you with a comfortable warmth, like rays of sun falling through the trees on the first warm morning of spring. 

You take another sip, once again savouring the subtle sweetness of the tea. You’ll have to ask Nick what’s in this. 

Nick is still out of sight somewhere, but you can hear him rummaging around in the distance. You’d expect yourself to feel uncomfortable being somewhat alone in a stranger's house, but everything about this place felt so comforting that you couldn’t possibly feel out of place. 

Something catches your attention then. The quiet scratching of claws against wood, followed by a slightly croaky purr makes you scan across the space to find the source of it. Your eyes land on the tuxedo cat that emerges from the lower compartment of one of the many overstuffed bookshelves. The cat stretches and shakes itself before it looks around the room for a moment. It wanders under the table, and you freeze up, trying not to scare it away. When you peek under the table, you see the cat coming towards you. It takes a moment to inspect you, before it moves past you pressing its body against your calf. 

You hear the cat hop onto something behind you. Turning around to check, you see that it has settled onto a pillow on the windowsill, lounging in the little sliver of sunlight that falls through the window there. 

Nick returns a little while later, carrying a few books in his arms. He stops, cocks his head to the side, and then smiles. You realise then that he’s not looking at you, but the cat.

“Now you show your face.” he shakes his head, “Where were you when I could have used your help, huh? Out fraternising with that damn vampire's cat, I bet.” 

He sets the books down on the table. 

“That’s Jerry. He’s supposed to be helpful.” he says, glaring at the cat, “He doesn’t usually show his face when I have visitors. Looks like a good omen to me.” 

Nick takes a sip from his own cup. He closes his eyes for a second and lets out a content sigh. 

He files through one of the books, turning the open pages towards you. 

“I can’t make it go away, but I can give you things that might help.” he offers, “How is the tea?”

“It’s really nice. I wanted to ask about it.”

Nick sits up a little straighter then, “Lemon balm, lemon verbena and lavender. I’ll fix up a jar for you to take home.”

He continues to explain a meditation method he’d read about a while ago. Nick shakes off your concern about having tried meditation before. 

“This is different. I think it’s worth a shot. I have some incense somewhere that might help too.” 

That evening, when you drive home, your chest feels a little bit lighter already. Maybe it’s just the idea of someone being so willing to help you. Nick has no ties to you, no reason to be this invested. But he’d still sent you home with a freshly mixed jar of the tea you’d had earlier, a written up version of the meditation technique and several cones of incense with a crescent moon holder. 

You’d also agreed that you’d come back the following week to report back. In the meantime, Nick would do research of his own to see what he could do. 

You’re not sure which of the things helps, but when you set out to see him again a week later, you find yourself feeling actually excited. 

Your visits become more and more frequent. Over the weeks, you learn that Nick doesn’t like to venture into town, and so you offer to take care of his errands there in return for his help. Weekly visits become twice a week, and before you know it, you find yourself stopping by at Nick’s whenever you can.

 Your mental health makes working pretty much impossible, and having something to do again feels genuinely good. On some days, Nick puts you to work in the garden behind the cottage. On others, you get to watch while he works on whatever it is he does in the kitchen. 

It’s almost November when he asks you to help him with the apples. 

“What exactly are we making?” you ask as you continue to peel yet another apple. 

“Half of these will be crumble and the rest compote.” 

You turn to watch Nick tip flour into a large ceramic bowl. Your momentary inattentiveness makes your knife slip. You drop it as soon as the pain hits. 

“Shit.” you cry out, wrapping your hand around your pointer finger.

Something behind you clatters, before Nick pushes himself in front of you. 

“Oh no.” he says quietly, pulling a kitchen towel from one of the cabinet handles. 

He presses the towel to your finger, before he steers you over to the large table. 

“Sit.” he urges, “Hold the towel there, I’ll be right back.” 

Nick rushes off into what you now know to be the bathroom. He returns with a few supplies a moment later. He kneels down in front of you, carefully taking your hand into his. 

“Let’s see.” He peels the towel away, and you can’t hold the wince, “I’m sorry, dear. I know.” 

He wipes the wound clean with a fresh towel, careful not to agitate it more. 

“It’ll be good in a moment.” Nick soothes, “Just have to see how bad it is.” 

The sound he makes then tells you that it’s quite bad. 

Nick picks up one of the small tins he brought over from the bathroom. He applies some of the salve to the cut. It stings just a little bit, but not enough to be of note. He wraps a small bit of muslin around your finger, before he takes your hand into his again. You watch as his eyes close and his head drops. You’ve seen Nick work his magic before when Jerry got into scuffles with other animals during his nightly outings, but you had never felt it yourself. 

As his focus narrows down on you, warmth spreads out from your finger. It travels up your arm and through your chest. You can’t take your eyes off him. Nick’s whole body seems to have a faint golden glow to it. 

Just as the warmth threatens to get too intense, it fades out. 

Nick remains with his head bowed for a moment longer. He peels back the muslin. All that remains of the cut is a small crescent moon shaped scar just above the first joint. 

“There you go.” Nick says quietly, “All good.” 

He looks up at you with a soft smile. 

Your heart makes a little thump then. You’d noticed it before when he looks at you. At first, you thought that it was nothing but the beginnings of a good friendship. By now, you are sure that it is so much more than that. But then again, you’ve only known Nick for a little over two months, and you have no idea if that is even something he’s interested in. 

The moment pops when Jerry forces his way between the two of you. He lets out a very displeased sound, making it known that it’s time for him to get attention again. 

Nick huffs out a laugh before he drops his head again. He scratches the top of Jerry's head before he eventually rises from the floor. 

It takes you a moment to catch up with him again. The way he had looked at you still lingers in your mind when you rejoin him in the kitchen. Nick hands you the freshly cleaned knife, and you resume your apple peeling duties as if nothing at all had happened. 

Thankfully, the rest of the afternoon continues without larger incidents. You can’t tell if it’s in your imagination or not, but you think that Nick looks at you more often. And even if he does, you’re sure that it’s just to make sure that you haven’t injured yourself again. Working with him like this is incredibly comfortable. You don’t speak a lot, but you don’t feel as if you need to say a lot either. There’s no pressure to make idle conversation. 

With the crumble finally in the oven and the last jars of compote sealed, you finally sit down in the chair on his front porch. Nick had sent you ahead with a blanket, knowing that you tended to get cold easily. He joins you just a moment a later, with two steaming mugs in his hands. He hands one to you and sets the other down on the rickety little table between the chairs. 

For a while, you sit in silence, enjoying the serenity of the glade. 

You look over at Nick, only to find him shifting uncomfortably. You think that he looks as if he wants to say something, but doesn’t know if he should. And so you reach out, poking your finger into his shoulder. 

“Nick?”

He twitches, head quickly snapping towards you, “Yes dear?” 

“Everything okay?” 

Nick takes a rushed sip of his tea. He contemplates for a moment longer, and you have to admit to yourself that the way his expressions shift as he tries to make up his mind is rather cute. 

“Interrupt me if I’m touching on something off limits.” he begins, “Sometimes when I heal I get glimpses of that person's emotions. It’s nothing deep or elaborate, just a snapshot, if you will. And when I touched you –”

He doesn’t have to finish for you to know what he’s trying to get at. The pang of relief that had hit you when the pain shot through your body still lingered with you. It’s been a while since you’d purposefully taken a blade to your skin. Long enough for you to think that the gratification wouldn’t be there any more. You’d fought so hard to keep yourself from doing it this time. 

You can’t stop yourself from crying then. Nick’s hand curls around yours immediately. He doesn’t try to stop you, doesn’t tell you that it’ll be alright. You’d kept all of these feelings bottled up inside of you for so long, that you couldn’t stop them from bubbling over now. 

Nick lets you cry until the tears stop falling. 

Against what you’d expected, you don’t find pity or worry on his face. He meets you with a warmth that takes some of the ache away. 

You tell him then.

Every detail that you’d hidden so far. The awful memories you’d kept so close to your chest. Even the ones that you’d never felt comfortable enough to share with therapists. 

And Nick listens so patiently. 

For a brief moment, you feel bad for unloading all of this on him, but he quickly dismisses that idea. 

The sun has long disappeared behind the trees when you finish, and you shiver in the cool night air. 

“I don’t think that I’ve ever told anyone all of that.” you finally admit. 

“Thank you for trusting me with it.” Nick replies, squeezing your hand, “I want you to know that you can always come to me. It doesn’t matter what time it is, if you need a friend – someone to talk to – I’m here.” 

Nick offers you to stay at the cottage for the night. He’s adamant that you take his bed, not budging no matter how hard you try to change his mind. While his bed is nice and comfortable, you can’t help but feel bad for him. And after two hours of tossing and turning, you creep down the stairs into the main space of the cottage again. 

You find Nick still awake, buried deep in a book. He looks up when you step onto a particularly creaky tread. 

“Can’t sleep?” he asks, looking up from his book. 

“Could ask you the same.” 

He places the book on the low coffee table in front of the sofa. 

“I just feel bad about making you sleep on the sofa in your own house.” you admit quietly.

“What, you want to cuddle up?” it’s a humorous suggestion, but you can’t deny the appeal of it. 

Nick doesn’t wait for your answer and makes his way towards you. He follows you back up the stairs without another word.

Settling into bed with him is a little awkward at first. Both of you try to find a comfortable spot without getting too close to the other, even when you wouldn’t mind curling up next to him. This time, sleeps finds you easily. 

You wake up to a gloomy morning. The gentle rapping of rain on the roof makes you want to stay in bed for just a while longer. You pull the fluffy duvet around yourself, sinking just a little deeper into the warmth of the bed. You’ve been up in the attic of Nick’s cottage a few times, but never for this long. Just like the rest of the place, it’s so warm and comfortable up here. Most of the wooden cladding is covered with beautiful tapestries that mirror the Persian carpet that fills most of the space. 

Nick is still fast asleep next to you. He looks so peaceful, brow furrowed just a little bit. You almost want to reach out to smooth your thumb over the crease. You don’t want to overstep, though. 

Instead, you crawl out of bed as carefully as you can without waking Nick up. You know that he likes to start his morning with a strong black coffee. Just like you. 

By now you know your way around his kitchen and finding the ceramic filter, coffee grounds and his favourite mug doesn’t take you all too long. Manoeuvring the kettle was a different story, but you manage to make it work. 

By the time you climb back up the steep stairs towards the attic, Nick has already stirred from his slumber. He’s still hidden under the down duvet, but you can hear him quietly talking to Jerry. 

Nick looks up when he hears you approach and flashes you a sweet smile. 

“You’re a darling.” he says softly when you hand him his mug. 

You sit next to him on the bed, once again getting comfy. 

Nick takes a long sip from his coffee, letting out a content sigh. 

“Sleep alright?” he asks then, turning to towards you. 

You nod, “Thank you for letting me stay here.”  

“Of course.” 

You both fall silent for a while, comfortably nursing your coffees. You shuffle a little closer to him, allowing you to rest your head against his shoulder. Nick’s hand finds its way to your legs, resting comfortably above your knee. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and you feel yourself melt on the inside. 

You don’t know where this is going to take you, all you know is that you’ve never felt this comfortable around another person. You don’t know how he does it, but Nick manages to make you feel as if you can beat this and come up on top, and really that’s good enough for you. 

By Yule, you’ve basically moved into the cottage with Nick.  It’s quiet and comfortable, and it does wonders for your health. You know that you still have a long path in front of you, but with Nick at your side, it doesn’t feel impossible any more. You’re busy with a batch of cookies when Nick comes in, a few extra logs for the fireplace under his arm. 

He shoves his freezing cold hands under your knit sweater, as he wraps his arms around you. You let out a little squeak in reaction, to which he gives an amused chuckle. 

“Smells good, what are you making?” he asks, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You lean back against his chest, “Just sugar cookies.” 

He presses a kiss to your cheek, “Can’t wait. Do you need help?” 

You shake your head, “Go get showered. We can start dinner when you’re done.” 

Nick kisses your cheek again before he detaches himself from you, “Won’t be long.” 

As he heads towards the bathroom, Nick stops where Jerry is napping on the sofa. And when you look over to them, you realise that you’ve finally made it home. 

taglist: @deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

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@rumoured-whispers @cheyyyyr @mathfairchild1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland

[crisiscutie]

The reunion at hand may bring us joy. Pt 1

Pairing: "Fluffy" Sephiroth/Pregnant Darling

A wee distant prequel in the alternate Domestic AU, back when Darling was still on the run from Yandere Sephiroth with the boys.

You gently touched your slightly swollen belly, shaking your head as you looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror. There was no denying it now - you were pregnant with your fourth child. This revelation shouldn't have come as a surprise. Something had to result out of those nightly sessions you had with Sephiroth months ago.

Yet with the familiar symptoms and signs, you had acted like nothing was different since you and the boys went on the run. Now that your baby bump had begun to form, ignoring your greatest worry was no longer an option. You covered your eyes and let out a soft sob as you anxiously deliberated your next steps.

You could should be able to handle this one. After all, ten years ago, you had been pregnant with triplets. One more child in the picture was no problem.

But you couldn't even bring yourself to explain to your precious boys why you all had to leave that fateful day. The horrifying atrocities and the monster their father had become were things they shouldn't and couldn't comprehend. So how the hell could you explain to them that you're pregnant while being on a special mother-sons expedition, celebrating your degradation mysteriously curing itself? The boys were already concerned when you had bouts of morning sickness, but you diverted their attention by promising to take them to the Gold Saucer, since they had begged to visit it during the journey in Corel.

They're smart like Sephiroth, though. You won't be able to hide this from them for long. Maybe you could tell them at the amusement park during a quiet moment? You pulled your wool sweater down and slipped your black jacket on for even more cover. It's bad enough being an ex-SOLDIER on the run with three kids. No need to make it obvious that you're a pregnant ex-SOLDIER on the run with three kids.

When you were about to leave the restroom, you heard a groan of distress from behind. You turned around and came face to face with a woman dressed in tattered black robes. She looked to be on the edge of death. Her lifeless, baggy eyes, sickly complexion, and brittle hair nearly sent you into a panic. She looked like you when your degradation was at its worst. She stumbled towards you, losing her balance. You immediately reached out and caught her, allowing her to rest her head on your shoulder.

"Miss... are you okay?" you whispered. You couldn't resist the instinctive desire to hold her tightly, as if she were a precious jewel for safekeeping. Perhaps it was your natural empathy and decency for a fellow human. Or it's just your pathetic projection.

You tried to support her upright, but in a swift second, the woman summoned all her strength to push you against the bathroom wall, her small form transforming into the towering visage of your dear husband, Sephiroth.

In slow, robotic movement, he lifted his head from your shoulder. You could feel his soft, silver tresses sliding over the fabric of your jacket as his gaze met yours. His slit pupils were devoid of the soft, almost-catlike gaze he usually wore. Instead, there was only the stare of a snake watching its prey.

He cupped your chin. "You dare to run away? With my children? After all I've done for you. For them," he hissed. You couldn't respond. Were you already beginning to lose your mind? How did he know your location? How is here? As he caught the flicker of fear and shock in your eyes, his slit pupils constricted. He then smirked and slid his gloved hand down your body, opening the jacket and lifting the wool sweater to expose your slightly swollen belly.

"I will reclaim what's mine," he declared, his gloved hand resting on your belly. These were his final words before the robbed woman retook her place. She groaned in your ear once again. A nurse burst into the room and quickly approached the two of you. She pulled the robbed woman away from you.

"Excuse her. She's not feeling well because of the mako poisoning!" the nurse hastily explained to you, shortly lecturing the robbed woman afterwards. You stifled a gasp at them before fast walking out of the restroom. Your gaze darted up and down the streets, clutching your bag close to you.

Fuck. Fuck. The boys. Where are they!? You all can't afford to stick around much longer. But you don't see them anywhere! They should've been here, waiting outside of the bathroom as you ordered. Your panic increased tenfold when you rushed down the dusty road, seeing the bodies of dead Shinra grunts scattered about. You forced your head to keep looking forward, not even noticing the black feathers on some bodies.

Time passed slowly until you found a platform with a gondola, hoping your boys were near since you quietly searched everywhere else. You then heard the familiar whisper of Kadaj calling out to you from behind.

"Mother, we're over here!" He said. They were hiding in small bins, with a white lid over their heads nearby an abandoned clinc.

"What happened?" You asked.

"We don't know... Those men were running after us, so we hid in these bins when they lost sight of us," Yazoo explained. The three came out, their hair and clothing a bit rustled, but no signs of physical injury. But their eyes said it all. They were shaken. Afraid. All supposedly under your watch. Poor Loz was crying silently, keeping his hand over his mouth to keep quiet. You ruffled his hair, giving him an apologetic gaze.

The three hugged boys hugged you tightly, afraid to let you go. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't left you three alone..." You said. Kadaj lifted his head, about to say something before the sight of your uncovered pregnant belly caught his attention. The other two followed after, their fearful gaze turning into utter confusion and curiosity.

Shit. Of course you didn't bother to fix yourself up after that bathroom encounter with Sephiroth. "Boys... I-"

"They can't be far! Split up and search the alleys!" a voice from a distance ranged out, with a tone you recognized to certainly belong to a grunt captain. With quick thinking, you ushered the boys into the nearby gondola and closed the door.

"We'll discuss this later. Just stay quiet for Mother please..." you uttered, maneuvering to the controls. Your sweet triplet boys nodded, immediately sitting down and observing you silently. Thank the planet that they knew when to get serious and follow directions. But alas, mayhap this be evidence of them growing up too fast. Any other child at their age would still be shaken, frantically asking questions, begging for assurance. Just how much more horrors did they witness in your absence?

You slapped the control panel in frustration, which seemed to make it work. The gondola creaked and drifted along the cable lines. You peeked out of the tinted window, seeing more Shinra troops scouting the streets. Thankfully, no one seemed focused on the gondola. You sighed in relief and wiped your forehead as you sat down, sitting opposite of the triplets.

They were still staring at you, their intense catlike pupils constricting as the silence persisted. It was too difficult for you to not think of Sephiroth at this moment. This peculiar aura was all too familiar. Each one was so so similar to him, in each and every way.

Your lips curved into a forced grin, as you leaned forward, talking in your light tone.

"You know, this itinerary of Corel told me about a very special attraction nearby." The boys broke out of their peculiar observant trance, their slit pupils now dilating in anticipation as they leaned forward themselves, meeting you with excitement.

"I-Is it the gold saucer?" Loz asked. You nodded.

"Mhmm!" I was thinking, 'Maybe we could go there sooner.' What do you boys think?" The boys collectively hollered in excitement, littering you in gratitude and requests to go to a specific attention first. You chuckled, sitting back and watching them argue with each other about who gets to where first. Good thing you got them focused on something else for now.

Though your amusement ended quickly when you spotted a black feather stuck in the window's crevice, reminding you of your duty...

Oh, why can't something be easy for once?

[linkemon]

Imponderabilia (Ciel Phantomhive x Reader)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you're interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

ᴀ ᴛʏᴘɪᴄᴀʟ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʜᴀɴᴛᴏᴍʜɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴀɴᴏʀ. ɢʀᴜᴍᴘʏ ᴄɪᴇʟ, ᴅᴇꜱꜱᴇʀᴛ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴅɪɴɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɪʀʀᴇꜱᴘᴏɴꜱɪʙʟᴇ ᴇᴍᴘʟᴏʏᴇᴇꜱ. ᴀʟʟ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴘᴏᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇᴀ…

ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: 1. ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅʟʏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅᴇʀ ��ʜᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴇɴɢʟɪꜱʜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ. ɪ ᴛʀʏ ᴍʏ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ʙᴜᴛ ᴀɴʏ ᴛɪᴘꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ.

— Good morning, my lord! — [Reader] opened the door.

The view was the same as almost every day. The young lord was sitting in a navy blue, plush armchair and looking through the morning newspaper. He didn't take his eyes off it. He knew she would come. She was punctual. The same couldn't be said about the rest of the residence's staff.

— How are we feeling in the morning?

— Fine — Ciel replied quietly.

For him, it was an extremely elaborate statement. If Sebastian asked him about it, he usually told him to mind his own business. And when the other inhabitants of the estate did this, he preferred not to say anything because they began to get so happy that they would not leave him in peace for the rest of the day.

The girl grabbed the porcelain teapot and started making tea. The amber liquid sparkled in the decorated cup. The girl placed the saucer on a small table.

Phantomhive waited a moment to hear the sound of the door closing but to his surprise he didn't hear it. He looked at the maid. She stood with her back to him, leaning over the silver tray. When she started to turn away, he hid his head behind the printed pages, pretending to be reading.

A plate appeared next to him. An elegant plate full of cookies.

— It's too early for dessert — he said.

— Nonsense! — [Reader] rolled her eyes. — Sebastian is the one who keeps saying things like that. However, I think there is nothing wrong with sweets before dinner. Occasionally.

Ciel looked at the dessert. The baked goods looked average. Crispy, with chocolate pieces. However, their scent tickled his nostrils pleasantly. He felt his mouth water at the thought of tasting them.

— Did you make them today? — The question hung in the air, even though he knew the answer.

— I got up a little earlier. The lord had a hard day yesterday so I thought it would cheer him up. — She smiled.

The boy felt strange for a moment. He knew how much she had to do every day. She woke up long before him to take care of his house. In addition, she also had to correct the mistakes of Baldroy, Mey-Lin and Finnian. Tanaka wasn't that harmful but then again he wasn't very helpful either. Sebastian could arrange everything but she didn't like asking him for help. They tended to stay out of each other's way. Especially since the demon has been getting other tasks lately. Someone finally had to investigate in the queen's name.

And yet the maid denied herself the sleep to make these cookies for him. He felt a tightness somewhere around his heart but he decided to dismiss the ridiculous thought. Nobody cared about him. She did it because it was her job.

— You can take them. — His words were cold. So contrasting to how he felt inside.

— The lord won't eat even one? — She raised an eyebrow.

He shook his head.

For a moment the room was filled with silence. She was interrupted by footsteps. Suddenly, the newspaper paragraph was replaced by a girl's hand and a plate.

— Let's play a game. — That caught his attention. He became even more angry with himself. She knew him that well. — Please, taste them, my lord. If you don't like it, I'll leave the residence. Otherwise, I'll bake them whenever I want and you will always have to eat them.

— How do you know I won't lie? — He reached for the cookie.

— I'll take the risk. — The corner of her mouth turned up.

Ciel took a bite. He expected something extraordinary. Sophisticated taste. Secret spice. Amazing texture. None of these things! They were normal. As average as they looked.

As he took another bite, he had an epiphany. He was tricked like a little child. It wasn't about confectionery skills at all. He lost because he expected to fight on a completely different front than the one on which it actually took place.

— They're virulent — he growled.

— I knew it'll be like this. — Her smugness seemed to light up the entire room. For a moment he thought that she looked really nice in the bright light. The glow reflected in her eyes, reminding him of the radiant sun just outside the window. What was he even thinking about?

— Really? — He gritted his teeth.

— You like me too much to throw me out — she said.

She hit the nail on the head.

He felt a blush rising to his pale cheeks. For the first time in a long time, he was lost for words. Ever since she started working here, she had done and said things that made his heart beat faster. She was annoying. At the same time, he didn't want her to stop. He was stuck in a vicious circle and somehow he was in no hurry to change the whole situation. Yet he could fire her at any time.

He couldn't stand her smug expression as she headed towards the exit. He hated losing.

— Play chess with me.

— Chess? — she asked.

— Yes. How many times do I have to repeat? — he sighed irritably.

He placed the pieces in the starting position. If she thought she could just leave after all this, she was sorely mistaken.

[Reader] sat down hesitantly in the chair in front of him. He was pleased to see her slight confusion. She didn't expect this.

The game was going his way. However, he had to admit that his opponent was quite a challenge. The girl thought logically much better than he expected. Once she even managed to trap him in a bad situation. It took him a few moves to realize the trap. However, he managed to recover and was on the way to victory.

Chess was much simpler than life. They had clear and explicit rules. They rewarded the better and punished the worse. Only those who deserved it felt the taste of defeat. Completely different than in reality. A place where nothing was black and white, only shades of gray. Just like their strange relationship.

He moved the knight.

— [Readerrr]! — The door to the room opened with a bang.

Mei-Lin ran through the doorway. Red hair flowed behind her as she crossed the distance between them. Her glasses fell off her nose. She hurriedly picked them up from the floor. Even the carpet couldn't save them. One glass cracked, creating an ugly spiderweb on the surface.

— Oh my, my, my!

— What is it this time? — You could hear the tiredness in [Reader's] voice. The head of the Phantomhive family had no doubt that she had been through this hundreds of times, just as he had before Sebastian showed up. — Garden?  — She got a shake of her head. — Living room? — Same answer again. — So the kitchen… — [Reader] said. She didn't have to look at her co-worker to know she had nailed it. — It was very nice to play... — She was about to get up when the young master's hand gesture stopped her.

— We're not done yet — Ciel said.

— Ah, but... the kitchen! — Mei-Lin said.

— Find Sebastian. He will take care of it. — The lord moved his rook, thus indicating that he considered the conversation to be over.

— But I don't know where he is — the maid whined helplessly.

Phantomhive took a deep breath. Sometimes he really wondered why he kept all these people here. Maybe he should hire someone new?  He exhaled slowly through his nose.

— You worked with him in the living room today, so start in the living room. And if it's not there, keep looking until you find it. Have I made myself clear?

— Y-yes, of course! — The woman ran out, stumbling.

Maybe he was doing something stupid. After all, the kitchen was on fire. He shook his head slightly. Everything in the mansion burned down at least once a week, so it didn't really matter. Besides, why did he have his one hell of butler?

Ciel looked around the board, studying his options. It was basically a formality now but he still waited for her next move. However, only soft snoring answered him. He looked up from the black and white board. [Reader] rested her head against the plush headrest of the chair. Closed eyes and a steadily rising chest could only mean one thing. She fell asleep. How did sleep overwhelm her so quickly?  He had no idea. She must have been really tired. She had been helping him with his documents at night for the last week. However, he didn't think it would bother her so much.

He almost woke her up but then stopped himself. He brushed away a strand of hair that had escaped from her updo, then reached for the blanket lying on the backrest and covered the girl with it.

— Maybe I really like you too much...

He quietly moved towards the door and closed it.

[cannedpickledpeaches]

Insert Your Name (5)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to series masterlist!

Notes and TW: Overthinker reader having a conversation with Mr. "Just Trust Me" Jade Leech. This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

Tags: @guava-writes @itszzmoon @twstsandturns @myteacupisempty @rou-luxe

“Would you like some tea?”

Jade offers you a cup of something that smells like lavender. You shake your head.

“I’m okay.” You turn your attention back to your screen. He sets the cup and saucer next to you anyway. “Who knows, maybe you’ve put a suspicious substance in it.”

“Is it so hard to believe that I can do something out of the kindness of my heart?”

You chuckle and shake your head. “You? Absolutely not. Give an inch and you take a mile.”

There’s a beat where he doesn’t reply. You look up at him, wondering if you’ve said something strange, but his back is turned as he walks to his seat. When he turns back around to settle in his chair, his expression stills like a frozen pond. Perfectly crafted, carefully unreadable.

A few hours have passed since his phone call. You’ve decided to work in Jade’s office today, thinking that you might get a clue or a burst of inspiration if one of the subjects of your thoughts is in close proximity. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, his quiet hums and constant catering to your needs indicates that he’s rather pleased. Aside from the cup of tea releasing a wispy veil of steam, there’s also a plate of cookies and a bowl of cherries on his desk beside you.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

You close your laptop and sigh. There are too many to count, all swirling in your head without rest.

“Still thinking about what you told me this morning.” You don’t want to address the bigger issue—that (Y/N) apparently forgot who you are—so you start small. “I didn’t expect you to actually fall asleep.”

“Neither did I.” Jade frowns in thought. “I imagine it is a result of too few hours of sleep throughout the week.”

“Even so, you said it yourself. You can’t sleep around strangers.” You drum your fingers on the desk. “Maybe you actually do feel at ease around her.”

“That is not the case.” His voice carries certainty that surprises you. When you glance at him, you notice that his mouth is set in a firm line. “I was quite unsettled when I woke up.”

“Huh.” You can imagine it. His shock at his lapse in vigilance. But even so, no matter how tired he is, he has never made this sort of blunder before. “I guess there’s a first for everything.”

A shadow passes over his face. He stands next to your chair and leans over you. His eyes stare straight into yours—piercing mismatched eyes with an almost magnetic pull.

“I will ask you the same question as last night. Do you really believe that manuscript is a reflection of things that will certainly come to pass?”

Your heart jumps. Is he using Shock the Heart? But a few seconds pass, and no words leave your lips. This is not his Signature Spell. This is Jade Leech asking you a sincere, serious question. Besides, you have no reason to lie.

“Like I said, I don’t know—”

“Then don’t talk and act as though it is.” Is that frustration in his voice? He maintains eye contact with you, and you feel as though you can’t look away. “I, for one, think a predetermined future is horribly boring. My actions dictated for me, every event predictable . . . . I would sooner abandon it all and throw caution to the wind. The only reason why I am following the manuscript is because it outlines a way to restore my parents’ health.”

His sentence ends on half a breath, as though he originally intended to say more. He doesn’t. You wait, but nothing comes out.

“And?”

He kneels beside your chair, no longer towering over you or crowding your space. When he speaks again, he is quiet. But in the silence of his office, you hear it clear as day.

“And because that is what you want.”

Many history textbooks praise the Sea Witch for her spells and potions. One of the most famous ones took away a mermaid’s voice. You wonder if this is what that mermaid felt like. A storm of thoughts, but none able to be processed by your vocal chords. Parted lips that leak no sounds. You stare, nonplussed.

Eventually, you manage to let out a breathy, barely-heard whisper.

“What?”

His Adam’s apple bobs. “That is the truth. If that is what you wish for, then I will do my best to live up to your expectations. I know your good friend (Y/N)’s life is difficult. I know you think that by following this manuscript, everyone will be happy, because that is what it says will happen.”

You continue staring. The words seem to pass through you. It’s as though you are sitting in a dream, your surroundings wavering and surreal. What is he saying?

“The truth is that I could simply care less about (Y/N). She is at most an acquaintance. The reason why I give her special treatment is because I know she is precious to you.” He keeps rambling. You get the sense that he has been keeping quiet about this for a while. “As for the matter concerning my parents. If we follow the story, there is still no guarantee that they will be cured. Even you said you do not know if the manuscript’s plot will certainly come to pass. If Vil Schoenheit refuses to help my family, we will think of another way. He is not the only alchemist or curse expert in the world.

“I will follow what you want. But do not ask me to fall in love with (Y/N). That is the one thing I cannot do.”

“Why?” Your brain feels like porridge. Nothing seems to be getting through it. You cannot reason out a single thing. Isn’t (Y/N) created to be loved? Aren’t they written to fit like a glove on each other’s fingers? You’ve read the story. There doesn’t seem to be a particular reason why the Jade in the story obsesses over her aside from spending time together. It doesn’t actually matter. It’s the author’s will that their love is written in the stars—and the pages of that damn manuscript. It’s the point of the entire plot. “Is there something you don’t like about her?”

“Do I need a reason for failing to fall in love?”

Your mind blanks. Does he need a reason? He has a similar line in the manuscript. Do I need a reason for falling in love? If you think about it, isn’t it the same? No matter how you try and reason out the answer, love is not a puzzle with a logical answer. There is no formula, no recipe, no surefire step-by-step manual that you can follow to ensure success. Sometimes a spark causes a flame, and sometimes it sizzles out and dies. There is nobody to blame for either outcome.

You can’t wrap your mind around it. Why. Why. Why. Your brain, constantly overflowing with thoughts, cannot leave this topic to rest. A puzzle without an answer leaves you feeling antsy. Not knowing everything is a sin to your conscience.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“That is how love tends to be.”

An unsatisfactory answer. You dig your nails into your palm.

“Then answer me this. Why do you follow what I want? Is it because I’m interesting? No, that’s not right. You just said following a pre-written script is boring, and that’s exactly what I told you to do. I don’t understand.”

“The script is boring. You are anything but.”

“Me? What have I done?”

He smiles, then, one wholly different from his polite masks or his teasing grins or even his unhinged laughter. It’s an expression you associate with the times he talks about his interests. The expression that blankets and scatters across his countenance like orange rays of the setting sun over ocean waves. A quiet and calm beauty. A fondness that he rarely allows to be seen.

“Did you know that when you have much on your mind, you look up to the sky? That is why you prefer rooms with windows. The attic in my home that you love so dearly is one such room, and you spend all your time there nestled on the window seat. On that topic, you prefer small spaces because it helps you feel secure while you think. This is because you tend to zone out, and it is easier to defend yourself when no threats can appear behind you.”

“Uh, this is more like a behavioural report than a reason.”

“I do adore observing your behaviour. Particularly when you are lost in thought. I find myself wondering what you’re thinking about. If you’ll share them with me. But oftentimes, you do not trust me enough to do so.”

You swallow hard. “It’s hard to.”

“Why is that? I’ve known you for fifteen years. Floyd has known you for just as long, Azul a little less. (Y/N) has only known you for one year. So why can’t you trust me?”

You fiddle with your fingers, no longer capable of meeting his gaze. This kind of outburst is not something you expected from Jade. How long has he been thinking this way?

“I can’t tell what’s going on in your head. That’s why. Everything you say or do just gives me more to think about. If you’re being genuine or not, if you’ll suddenly decide to turn on me, things like that.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes. His smile shifts from fond to rueful and raw desperation permeates his shaky voice. It sounds brittle, as though a well-aimed push would shatter it into infinitesimal pieces.

“Is it so inconceivable that I could do things for you without ulterior motives?”

You look away. “Only until it no longer serves your interests or amuses you. Even if I can’t trust you fully, I’m sure there’s at least some level of it between us. I mean, we see each other regularly. I even let you drive me home.”

“Yes, but I am afraid I am a greedy man. Anyone else turning their back on me would be tolerable, but you—if it’s you . . . . At least promise me this. Even if I turn on the entire world,” he declares quietly, “promise you will trust that I will not betray you.”

You open your mouth as though to reply. Nothing comes out. You try again, your fingers gripping your knees tightly.

“I think we’re too similar. We’re both too cautious. We both think too much. Because of that, I can’t let my guard down around you.”

“Yet that is exactly what fascinates me.” He places a hand over yours. “Trying to decipher your thoughts, wondering about the motivations behind your actions, these are all things I find myself enthralled by. Your brutality and decisiveness towards that which would benefit you, but your willingness to do anything for the people dear to you. Your cautious nature as you execute your bold plans. Every time I think I have you pinned down, I only unearth another layer. The mystery intrigues me. On the other hand, I cannot help but wish you would trust and open up to me a little more.”

“That’s contradictory.”

“I cannot help it.” He smiles wryly. “I am contradictory by nature, as are you.”

You study his hand that engulfs yours. Cool to the touch. Ungloved, too. You muster your resolve.

“Then promise you won’t lie to me.” You finally lift your gaze until it returns to his eyes. Clear eyes that have been by your side for years. The eyes of a liar and schemer. Ironic for the one who wields a Signature Spell that forces out the truth. But these are the eyes of Jade Leech, and you won’t try to make him be someone he isn’t. “Lie to everyone else, I don’t care. But don’t lie to me. You can try to trick me or give me half-truths. I’ll figure them out on my own. If I still get fooled, that’s on me. Just don’t outright lie.”

The pounding of your heart fills your ears. Then, it is replaced by the sound of his quiet laughter.

“I expected nothing less from you.” He brings your hand up to touch his cheek. It only lasts a moment before he lets go and stands back up, returning to his seat. “I give you my word. I will never lie to you again.”

You look at the teacup on the desk, the lavender tea inside now cooled. The untouched cookies and cherries. A soft clink rings out as you take the teacup and bring it to your lips. Sweet and fragrant. Even cold, the tea Jade brews is impeccable.

[all-about-kyu]

Summary: Whatever you did to mess up the recipe really has you desperate for Kun. Pairing: Wizard!Kun x fem apprentince!reader Tropes: magic au, wizardry au Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: language, magic, fictional herbs Smut Warnings: aphrodisiacs, overstimulation, fingering, oral sex (f receive), sudden female orgasm, unprotected sex, marking, crying, aftercare Word Count: 1,700 Host Tags: @sanjoongie @thelargefrye Note: thank you to @stardragongalaxy for proofreading! Before You Interact February Filth Masterlist

Listen to ♡ Same Scent by Oneus

“Watch this brew while I handle the inventory for a moment.” Kun smiles sweetly.

“Are you sure? I can do inventory. I don’t want to mess–”

Kun shakes his head, “I trust you.”

You nod and move toward the cauldron. The bubbling brew smells sweet, almost as if to draw you in more. You vaguely hear Kun talking to himself in the storage room, likely checking how many phoenix feathers you have left. You started running low, but your pet phoenix just rebirthed, and its feathers are nowhere ready to molt yet. That or maybe he’s checking the progress on the pixie dust crystalization. Either way, you swear you hear him call you. Whipping your head around, you see him still deep in the store room, not even attempting to get your attention. When you turn, though, you move the spoon and knock it into a small vile next to the cauldron. You close your eyes and slowly turn your head back to the large cast iron pot. When you open your eyes, it looks the same. It just smells the slightest bit sweeter— the vile lies on its side, with barely a drop still inside it. 

“The brew should be done! Put the fire out, okay?” 

You nod, even if he might not see it, “O-okay!”

“Also,” Kun says, walking back into the kitchen, “I want you to try a little bit of it. It’s a romantic-based potion, but just one sip won’t do anything.”

You don’t want to seem suspicious, so you nod, take a small spoon from the side table, and dip it into the metallic pink liquid. After blowing on it a few times, you place the spoon against your lips and sip it. Instantly, a rush of heat goes through your body. Everything is hypersensitive. You’re far more aware of everything around you than you’d like to be. When you look back at Kun, he can immediately tell something is off with you. You suddenly feel the need to fuck him like your life depends on it. You’ve always respected the line of Wizard and apprentice, no matter how hot he is. Now, though, all you can imagine is being absolutely railed by him to the point that you can’t form a coherent word in your mind.

“Are you okay?”

“Kun,” your voice comes out almost like a moan.

His eyes go wide as saucers. Then his eyes darted to the cauldron. He leans over and smells the sweeter scent. Before even thinking to check his surroundings, he dips his hand in, using it as a cup of sorts, and sips the liquid as well. Suddenly, in his peripheral, he notices the knocked-over vile. Amorus.

“You knocked over the Amorus.” He states with a slight groan, picking up the small glass container, “How much– fuck…” 

“I didn’t want to upset you.” You pout and step closer, “Kun, could we maybe…”

He was starting to feel the effects of the potion as well, and damn, did he need to see you fall apart for him right now. He finds himself leaning in slowly, and you are, too. There are so many lines being blurred right now, but with the effects of the botched potion, neither of you can think about anything other than fucking each other. Kun places his hand on your waist, and you feel goosebumps on your skin when his hand makes contact. Finally, his lips are on yours. It’s not a very coordinated kiss, but it’s desperate, needy, sloppy. You absolutely melt at the sensation. Kun whispers something against your lips. It’s a spell you don’t know yet. You’re so fixated on him that when you finally let your hands wander, and you don’t feel fabric, you moan against his lips.

“That’s a fun little spell I can teach you once these potions wear off.” Kun chuckles, “It’s very handy, no?”

“Kun, please?”

He wraps his arms around your waist fully and tells you to jump. You wrap your legs around his waist tightly. A whimper escapes your lips at the feeling of your clit pressed against his bare skin. His cock stands tall and is perfectly pressed against your ass. You find yourself seated on one of the worn wooden tables. It’s not the most comfortable, but it’s more than enough for Kun to lay you out and fuck you stupid.

You hear the sound of jars and dishes being pushed to the side haphazardly as Kun guides you to lay back fully on the table. His kisses finally start trailing down your throat and between the valley of your breasts. You have a constant stream of moans and profanities falling from your mouth as Kun hungrily lays wet kisses everywhere he can. When his kisses finally reach your lower belly, you can’t help but let your hips jerk. Each kiss grows just a bit closer to where you need him. 

Even though he’s just as desperate as you are, the fact that he’s putting you first has your belly swooping and flipping. He continues to place kisses against the area just above your soaked entrance. You tangle your hand in his hair, and that gives him the last bit of push to lick a wide stripe up your folds. He eats you out like a starved man. After a few licks, he sucks on your clit. Kun continues this pattern for a while. Your other hand finds a place in his hair as well, tugging at the reddish-brown strands as he makes you melt into a feral puddle. He brings a hand up to your folds while his mouth is focused on your clit. Kun presses two fingers against your cunt, barely teasing your entrance. 

“Kun,” you moan, “Please just put them in, don’t tease me!”

Kun releases your clit for a moment, chuckling through a smirk. He pushes his fingers into you. You knew you were sensitive, but you suddenly feel arousal burn through you so hot that your orgasm tumbles through you. Your thighs shake around his head, wanting desperately to close. Kun holds one of your thighs down, stopping you from fully closing them. Kun doesn’t stop; he continues to lap at your clit while pistoning his fingers into you. The overstimulation burns through you in the most pleasurable pain you’ve ever known.

“You’re still so needy.” Kun muses, pulling away from your pussy, face still covered in your arousal, “You want me to fuck you?”

Your eyes are glazed over and needy. His fingers still pushing in and out of you render your brain completely empty. Your mental space is nothing more than an aroused fog. Kun chuckles again as you nod so hard you nearly smack your head against the hardwood of the table. When he pulls his fingers out of you, you whimper at the lack of contact. A moment later, you feel him rubbing his tip through your folds, and that same painful pleasure returns as he pushes his cock against your clit.

“Ready? I’m gonna make you see god, maybe even more.” He practically growls.

“Kun, please!” You moan, reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

He pushes into you and immediately pistons his hips against yours. You scream out at the feeling of the overstimulation. Kun pulls your legs up beside your chest on either side and holds them there before pressing his body against yours. The feeling of his bare skin on yours makes you have a fresh shot of arousal course through your body. 

Neither of you is going to last very long. The potion won’t allow that. You’re already well on your way to your second orgasm as it is. Kun hides his face against the junction of your neck and shoulder. He starts to bite the bare skin, leaving teeth marks and hickeys. You dig your nails into his skin, leaving small crescent moons behind. Locking your legs around his hips, you feel your second orgasm burst forth almost painfully.

“So fucking good.” He growls, “You feel so fucking good. Maybe I should stay wrapped up in this pussy all day, every day.” “Please!” You gasp, starting to come back down from your orgasm.

The overstimulation is almost too painful, but you also don’t want to stop. Kun starts to moan more often, which you assume to be an alert to his impending orgasm. You hardly come down from your second orgasm when the third forces its way through. Tears start rolling down your cheeks as the nearly painful orgasm wrecks you. As you scream and moan at the feeling, Kun’s orgasm finally hits him. He pulls out and cums across your belly. He pushes his fingers back into you and presses his thumb to your clit to help you ride out the rest of your orgasm. 

When you finally start to catch your breath, Kun has already manifested two glasses of water and wiped your belly clean. He pulls you to sit up and then onto his lap. Your body is shaky and weak from the intensity of three orgasms and crying. The wizard continually rubs your back and presses kisses to your hair.

“The potion wear off for you?” He asks quietly.

“Mmm,” is all you can muster at the moment.

“You did so good, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.”

You shift in his lap, wincing slightly at your sore state.

“Was it too much?”

“I think we both needed to fuck it out.” You mumble, still very much out of it.

Kun nods and holds you a bit tighter, “If you accidentally mess up a potion again, just tell me, okay?”

“Okay,” you respond, “Kun?”

“Hmm?”

“What does this mean?”

Kun sighs in thought, “It doesn’t need to mean anything. But– you want honesty?”

“Complete.”

“I wouldn’t mind taking you out on a date or two if you let me.”

You pull your head away from his shoulder, “I’m your apprentice… is that allowed?”

He shrugs at you, “There are plenty of witches and wizards who have their partners as their apprentices.”

You smile, “I’d like that then, only if you promise we can have fun with this new brew sometimes still.”

“Deal.”

COPYRIGHT STARLITMARK 2024© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted. 

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity

Tag List: @bratty-tingz @yeosangiess @minjaeluver @abbietwilight @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

[goldenlionprince]

Prongsfoot Week 2024 - Day 6

Everyone Assumes (that they're together)

James drops onto the bench opposite Peter and Remus with a sigh. It's been an early Quidditch practice and he's starving. A good breakfast is what he really needs right now.

“When were you going to tell us?” Peter asks, an excited glint in his eyes like he was barely able to contain himself long enough from asking before James was sitting down. James pauses with his hand halfway to the bacon.

“Tell you what?”

“It's not like we're really surprised,” Remus adds casually, stirring his tea. A small grin tugs at his lips like he's barely holding back laughter. “But I must say this is moving rather quickly, even for you.”

“Is it though?” Peter asks, grinning from ear to ear. “I mean they have been attached by the hip for years now.”

Remus nods, his eyes still on James. “True, true.”

James frowns, looking from one of his friends to the other. “What the hell are you two talking about?”

“Oh, just, you know.” Remus waves his teaspoon through the air. “There are really interesting news going around this morning.”

“Some Hufflepuffs came by earlier to tell us to pass on some congratulations,” Peter says, almost bouncing up and down in his seat across from James.

“So naturally we wanted to know what they were talking about,” Remus adds.

James looks between them both. “And?”

“Turns out,” Remus says, setting his teaspoon down beside his cup on the saucer. “Regulus has been talking again. The usual stuff about Sirius being a family disappointment and how glad he is to have their home estate for himself over Christmas. More of the same, nothing new.”

“But then,” Peter squeaks excitedly, gripping the edge of the table. “He said something very, very interesting.”

There is another dramatic pause and James wants to strangle them both. “Come on, spit it out! What did the little wanker say this time?”

“He said,” Peter leans forward over the table. “That he really can't wait for Sirius to become a Potter so he finally doesn't have to deal with them sharing the same last name anymore.”

James stares at him.

“So naturally,” Remus continues, grabbing another slice of toast from the basket in front of him. “Half the school thinks you two are engaged now.”

“They what?” James voice comes out a bit squeaky.

“Yeah, Lily was passing by earlier, asking to be the flower girl at your wedding,” Peter laughs. Remus chuckles at that while spreading a bit of strawberry jam on his toast. “Flower girl, get it?”

“Yeah, Pete, got it,” James mumbles, his brain still catching up with the news as he stares at the toast basket.

This, of course, is when Sirius shows up.

“What did I miss?”

“Oh, nothing,” Remus says while flicking open his copy of the Daily Prophet. Peter looks like he's almost chocking on his laughter. “Just your engagement.”

“My what?” The look on Sirius' face as he sits down on the bench next to James is one of pure horror.

“Don't look so alarmed. It's not a nasty surprise from your family,” Remus reassures, pushing the toast basket closer to Sirius.

“Although they might be happy about it, it's a pure-blood after all,” Peter snickers and then squeaks when he gets kicked in the shin under the table. James is not sorry about it.

“What the fuck are you taking about?” Sirius demands and grabs a slice of toast. He drops it onto James' plate without looking and takes another one for himself.

“Regulus is spreading the rumour that you'll be a Potter soon,” Remus explains, picking up his tea cup. “Though marriage.”

Sirius turns his head and looks at James and James – he just can't look away. He stares into Sirius grey eyes. He has looked into those eyes so many times but something feels different about it this time, like Sirius is searching for something and James just knows he will find it. His heart is beating so loud he's almost sure Sirius can hear it too. The noise of the Great Hall at breakfast time gets dimmer and his hands get all clammy and James just knows his face is all red.

“Oh,” Sirius says all soft and it makes goosebumps erupt all over James' skin.

“Oh no,” Peter says but it sounds far away. “Is this where they realize this engagement stuff can be a thing?”

Remus chuckles softly into his tea cup. “I think so.”

[adelacreations]

Fusion Dance:

I think someone mentioned this on discord but how would Lord Billy react to a pocketverse Billy?

So I wrote a bit of a ficlet to go with this Tagging @neonponders and @wrecked-fuse as well XD enjoy this little blurb I vomited out!

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

Sometimes, Billy wonders why he even bothers anymore. Steve Harrington has gotten along well with his children, it was important to him. But that came with getting involved with his children's antics. Both him and that boy-child of his. Sorry. Dustin.

He was getting better at remembering his name. For the sake of Lucas, who has a little crush on Steve's son. Regardless of that fact, the castle had been livelier than Billy has ever seen. Or was used to. Even with his servants bustling around. Anyways. "Steve...darling. What is that in your hands?" he asked slowly staring at the cupped hands of his lover. Steve only grinned, holding his hands out towards him, "Have a peek, Lady Bird~" His children claimed that they had found something in the courtyard and dragged Steve to go and check it out. Billy hadn't cared much, it might have been another bug or small mammal. Not...whatever this was.

It was small and...

Billy pressed his lips into a thin line, he really had no idea what he was looking at. Where was that-ah there it was, in the bottom left drawer. He didn't use it all that much anymore, his magnifying glass but it helped. Especially now, squinting as he peered through the glass. He said nothing at first, just staring at what he was seeing. "What a peculiar creature you are." Everything and everyone was small to him, he always had to be careful not to crush the many good things he had in his life with his abnormal strength. But this.

Glaring up at him was a mini version of him. Well, kind of. This one had a mullet, an opened red shirt and jeans. With a small pout on his face. It-he, well he was adorable. The poor thing was shaking though, might be through fear. Billy had that affect on people, for better or for worst.

Billy guessed that he could fit into his pocket if he put him in there. "I suppose your name is...Billy?"

"Where's my Biwwy!"

Billy raised an eyebrow at Steve who shrugged a little bit, "The little guy apparently got lost, stumbling into some weird portal or something from what he said. He's far from home."

"Clearly," Billy muttered in response, reaching out with one finger to poke at the little's cheek. "I won't hurt you." Billy wasn't going to comment on the warm feeling he felt when the miniature version of him clung to his finger, his eyes watering with tears and bottom lip puckered.

"Okay...where's my Stevie...?"

Oh. They were a pair. He and Steve looked at each other, the other mouthing 'no Stevie' to him. Huh, the poor thing really did get lost then. Steve grinned up at him, "We are a pair."

"Seems like I can never get rid of you then," Billy said with a smirk, leading over to give Steve a kiss. "We should get this one something to eat first, and maybe getting that agent of yours to help get him home." Steve scowled with a roll of his eyes, opting to bringing the little Billy to his chest, allowing him to slip inside of his coat pocket.

"Hopper isn't my agent."

"Hm."

"Billy!"

---------

"So that was how they found him in hanging on one of the candle holders. Sorry about that, you must have been really worried about him."

Billy paused in his reading, the quiet chomps and clattering of the plate next to him were the only other sounds in the main hall. He had to bar the kids from coming around the little Billy with their sickles. They had pouted only to relent when the little guy had yelled at them. Billy closed the book in his lap, taking up the crimson wine glass and taking a sip.

"I think your friends are here-"

"Biwwy!"

Little Billy jumped up from the saucer, waving his arms at the people following Steve. Billy raised an eyebrow at the two...well regular versions of themselves. Then again, they had the little ones already, there shouldn't be that much of a surprise.

"You're big."

Billy smirked, snapping his book shut and standing up from the couch. He grinned at the shock on both of the other Billy and Steve standing before him with a little Steve in that Steve's pocket. "9 foot 6, but who is really counting here?"

"Stevie! Cwere! He has coowkies!"

[dont-f-with-moogles]

The Envelope (Part 2) (NSFW) Dazai x Reader 1261 words

Cold morning. A tentative blue threaded with pale clouds. Mist had gathered in the corners of the windows. The double doors remained closed for now; you still had time to unload the gleaming cups and saucers from the dishwasher. Your manager - Uzumaki’s renowned, veteran barista - passed by the counter. His mouth was pulled to the side as though he was suppressing an uncomfortable smile.

“I, ah… think someone is trying to call you.”

With a wave of his hand he gestured to the lit smartphone which lay, singing idly to itself, nestled between a tray of glasses and the petty cash tin. A leaden weight had settled in the pit of your stomach. You didn’t need to check to know who it was.

As you continued stacking the cups within a wall-mounted cupboard the phone’s melody ceased, only to be followed by the sound of a chime. One insistent ping followed another; a flurry of notifications without pause. With a pained sigh, you retrieved your phone. Refusing to scroll back and read the long reel of previous messages, your eyes settled on the most recent.

Not that I want you to rush back of course! It’s only a small fire after all.

There came the rapid tap of your thumbs in reply.

I told you this morning that I’m not coming back until after my shift.

Dropping the device down with a thud, you continued to put cups, glasses and cutlery away, all the while ignoring the series of shrill sounds which rang impatiently from your phone.

“Sounds like someone wants to talk to you,” the café owner observed, unlatching the double doors and releasing a flood of warm light into the long room. Rather than answer, you pretended to search for something in the dishwasher’s cutlery basket.

“Perhaps you ought to answer him?”

“What makes you think it’s a him?” you countered, looking up at just the wrong moment. The café manager’s smile was all-knowing. He was a people watcher; an inadvertent gatherer of secrets. He had held his position with quiet pride for many years, unobtrusively pouring coffee as the lives of his customers played out around him.

Lifting a small bag of sugar cubes, you began to refill the ceramic containers on the tables.

“...in any case, if you don’t answer, he might come up here.”

Hesitating, sugar tongs still in hand, you managed a derisive snort. It did not take long for your false bravado to cower upon itself. Thinking better of it, you stalked back to the counter to seize your phone.

I won’t be back til 6. Grab a shower or a coffee or some fresh bandages if you have indeed set fire to yourself - whatever you need, but don’t wait for me to get back. Spare key in the teapot.

The device had hardly touched the surface when its screen glowed in response.

Good to know there’s another spare. I took the key you hid in the sconce. Think I’ll hang onto it ;)

You do that. Think I’ll have the locks changed.

Ah! You’re driving me insane! <3

“Miss?”

“Coming!” you called, relieved by the distraction. A steady queue of customers had formed from the cash register, snaking out into the hallway beyond. Stifling a yawn, you poured coffee into paper cups, adding a dash of milk here; a shot of syrup there. Plastic lids were fastened on in succession. You stretched your arms and arched your aching back. Names were penned on cardboard. The morning rush was always this busy, only to be followed by… silence. There was the respite after the madness. The calm before the storm. Only a visit from your rather irregular regulars could break up the monotony now. The Armed Detectives from the fourth floor, with their wild antics and raucous laughter… You ground your teeth. Not that you were thinking about him though. Not that you were, even now, considering checking your phone for his messages. Too often you had witnessed those poor souls who fell for his superficial charms. They would weep, helpless, struggling to comprehend the reason for his sudden absence. How ignorant they were, never knowing he had already moved on to his next person of interest…

Even as you stood, reasoning so calmly with yourself, your hand was inciting a mutiny against your mind and body. You reached for your phone again.

Ditch work. Tell the boss you have a headache and need to stay in bed ;)

I think he might see through that brilliant scheme?

Cruel mistress! Don’t make me beg :(

This is on you. I’m not making you do anything.

Three little dots danced, taunting, as he crafted his reply. You set the device to one side each time the café owner strode past. It was more than your job’s worth to be caught sending messages to one of your regular customers.

As the manager stooped to clear one of the tables, your phone buzzed irritably.

Don’t pretend. And for the record, I hate being made to wait.

Wait for what exactly? You smiled; it wasn’t like you to behave so coyly but, somehow, his persistence had reeled you in like a spider’s silk.

Seriously? Don’t forget that I’d been trapped behind bars for WEEKS. You know I couldn’t stop thinking about you in there. I thought last night was all I needed but holy fuck, I already miss your pussy…

The weight in your stomach shifted. Something sparked, like flint on stone.

It’s 9:28 am! We’ve only just opened.

Well what time does your pussy open? Cause I’m

Heat flooded your cheeks. You felt your pulse beating in your throat; blood roared thunderously in your ears. You looked up - another poorly-timed gesture - to witness Ranpo glance away thoughtfully, his finger tapping his chin. The detective who saw through everything.

You dropped your phone with a clatter.

“I thought the temperature was mild today,” he observed dryly, such was his way of small talk. “Is it hot in here?”

“Yes,” you answered automatically, placing your phone face down before you could read the rest of Dazai’s message. Given the brief glimpse of the words hard scream beg and gag you could only assume it contained some tangible threats. You dusted down your black skirt self-consciously and reached to tighten the fastening in your hair, remembering that you had been forced to wear it loose today. Only its dark curtain, as it swung about the white frill of your collar, could hide the blemishes he had left upon your skin the night before. Incriminating marks which had branded you as his.

“Sorry, I uh- Let me pass you a menu-”

“Sweet curry,” Ranpo declared without pause. “And, not that it’s any of my business, but Dazai thrives on dysfunction. Nothing bores him more than having his own schemes go smoothly. I wouldn’t be so quick to give him the replies he wants.”

You gaped in astonishment. “That’s not- that’s-”

“One doesn’t need ultra deduction to read it in your distracted demeanour; the way you’re repeatedly picking your phone up, cursing to yourself… we’ve seen it all before. It’s the Dazai effect. Not to mention the circles under your eyes, your constant yawning…”

“Plus those hickeys speak for themselves.” Yosano had appeared behind him. “Pour us both a coffee - you look like you need it.”

Ruefully brushing your hair down against your neck, you turned away, poured out two cups and grabbed a blue Ramune from the fridge. What had ever made you think that sleeping with Osamu Dazai would have gone unnoticed by a group of professional detectives?

Part 1 (tw)

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Galileo Galilei Main Story

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

A few days have passed since I arrived at the hideout.

Galileo: "What's this?"

Galileo furrowed his eyebrows when he saw the baguette, omelette, and soup I had laid out on the table.

Mitsuki: "It's breakfast. I feel bad doing nothing, so I thought I'd help with chores."

Mitsuki: "Besides, I heard dhampirs feel hunger since they're half-human. Please feel free to have some."

Galileo: "There's no need for you to do something like this."

Drake: "Ah, my bad. I told Mitsuki she could do as she pleased."

Drake, coming from behind Galileo, flashed a bright smile upon seeing the breakfast.

Drake: "Wow, that looks delicious. Having a cute girl make breakfast for you in the morning is really the best."

Galileo: "Drake..."

Despite Galileo's slight glare, Drake seemed unfazed.

Drake: "Is it freshly made? Can I have some right away, fawn?"

Mitsuki: "Sure, help yourself."

Mitsuki: "Galileo, please have some while it's warm."

Galileo: "............"

After a moment of hesitation, he let out a heavy sigh and took a seat on the sofa.

Drake: "You gonna eat?"

Galileo: "Better than wasting it."

Though he seemed reluctant, I felt relieved, as I had prepared the meal with some concern.

(I'm glad. I was worried about his health after seeing him eating some flowers and struggling on the other side of the door.)

Drake: "Why don't you join us for breakfast, Mitsuki?"

Mitsuki: "Are you sure? In that case, I'll do just that."

Since Galileo didn't say anything in particular, I brought my meal over. However, I noticed he didn't drink from the coffee cup he lifted and just placed it back on the saucer.

Mitsuki: "Do you not like coffee? We also have tea if you prefer it."

Galileo: "No, coffee is fine."

Despite saying that, he didn't touch the cup and instead began stirring the soup carefully.

(Could it be...?)

Mitsuki: "Are you sensitive to heat?"

Drake: "Wait, really?"

Galileo: ".........."

Drake widened his eyes, and Galileo shot him a glare. It seemed like I hit the nail on the head on that one.

Drake: "Haha! So you have a weakness, too, huh?"

Galileo: "Keep your unnecessary comments to yourself, Drake."

Mitsuki: "Galileo's body temperature is low, so maybe he feels the heat more."

Drake: "Body temperature? When did you two get so close?"

Mitsuki: "Huh? It's not like that!"

Mitsuki: "We've touched hands a few times, but that's all."

Galileo: "I'd rather eat alone in my room than entertain such nonsense."

Drake: "Alright, alright. Professor Galileo is quite serious."

It was the first time the three of us had a conversation like this, and I couldn't help but let out a small smile.

(Come to think of it, this might be the first time I've genuinely smiled since coming here.)

Our first meal together passed with a bit of tension and a strange sense of distance.

After breakfast, Drake watched Galileo and Mitsuki head towards the university from the window.

Drake: "The woman of destiny, huh?"

His piercing gaze was fixed on Mitsuki's back.

That day, just like the day before, I spent my time staying in Galileo's office.

In the afternoon, he and I walked side by side through the town, each carrying a shopping bag.

I’d asked if he would accompany me to buy groceries since I was going to help with the housework, and surprisingly, he agreed.

(He even had breakfast with me this morning, which was unexpected.)

(I never thought he would agree to accompany me shopping either.)

I glanced up at him, but suddenly, an apple fell out of the shopping bag I was carrying.

Mitsuki: "Ah..."

He caught the apple in midair.

Mitsuki: "T-Thank you. That was close!"

Galileo: "Isn't this a bit too much?"

Mitsuki: "Sorry. I got carried away thinking about what to cook for you and Drake."

Galileo: "..........."

Galileo: "Let me carry some."

(Huh?)

Before I could react, he took half of the bags from my arms.

Mitsuki: "It's okay, I can carry them myself! You're already carrying so much."

Galileo: "Being burdened any further would just be bothersome."

Mitsuki: "I understand. Thank you very much."

With a deep sigh and a frown, he left me with no choice but to quietly rely on him.

Mitsuki: "..........."

Galileo: "..........."

(Unlike this morning, it's just the two of us now.)

While searching for a topic, I remembered the book I borrowed the other day.

Mitsuki: "Oh, right. I'm almost done reading the book I borrowed."

Galileo: "Ah, that one."

It was an old book with an unknown title that I found in his office.

Upon reading it, I discovered it was an academic text where Salviati and Simplicio each assert their own theories, while Sagredo takes a neutral stance.

(While the debate contains scientific and complex aspects, the dialogue format makes it easy to read.)

Mitsuki: "There's a scene where one of the characters asks, 'But why have you not observed this instead of reducing yourself to having to believe the tales of others? Why not see it with your own eyes?'"

Mitsuki: "That scene was very impressive."

Galileo: "..........."

Mitsuki: "I think there are times when we end up taking information from our surroundings at face value."

Mitsuki: "And in doing so, without confirming with our own eyes, we end up hurting someone based on assumptions."

(Such as discrimination or persecution.)

Mitsuki: "That's why I was reminded in that book how important it is to verify the truth with our own eyes."

Galileo: "I see."

As I expressed my thoughts in detail, Galileo replied briefly.

(I wonder what he thought about it.)

I was wondering what he thought about it since he also read the same book.

Galileo: "The truth is something one should pursue with their own eyes. However, even if one finds the truth, it doesn't necessarily lead to righteousness."

(Huh?)

He spoke without facing me.

Mitsuki: "Um, does that mean knowing the truth isn't always a good thing?"

Galileo: ".........."

He nodded in silence at my question.

(Sure, that could be the case sometimes, but...)

(Oh...)

As I pondered a bit, I recalled something he mentioned before.

Mitsuki: "You mentioned something similar before, right?"

Galileo: "Did I?"

Mitsuki: "Yes, you did. Back then..."

------------Flashback-----------

Galileo: "Humans are creatures who define what's convenient for themselves as truth."

Galileo: "Even if the truth is revealed, if it's inconvenient, they'll be condemned and excluded."

---------Flashback Ends--------

Mitsuki: "Even though you understand the importance of seeking the truth, you called those who acted upon it stupid."

Galileo: "Yeah, and I'm not going to take those words back."

Galileo's profile remained steadfast, as if expounding an unwavering theory.

Mitsuki: "Sure, your thoughts may be the truth as seen from your perspective."

Mitsuki: "But from my perspective, that person still appears very brave and deserving of affirmation."

Galileo: ".........."

Mitsuki: "Each person's truth may vary depending on their viewpoint. That's what I've come to realize."

I didn't intend to argue against his opinion.

But just like the characters in the book engaged in dialogue, I express my thoughts without fear.

After a moment of silence, as if contemplating something profound,

Galileo: "Truth changes depending on how you look at it, huh?"

Galileo: "Then I suppose the truth in you will change when you learn of the sacrifices made by fools."

(Huh...?)

Mitsuki: "What do you mean by sacrifices?"

Galileo: "This conversation is over."

Galileo: "You always manage to irritate me."

(.........)

Galileo interrupted my question with a hint of anger, but his expression seemed somewhat pained.

(Did I say something unnecessary again?)

An awkward silence hung in the air, making it hard to keep talking.

We walk silently along the way back home, but suddenly...

Mitsuki: "Kyaah!"

Curly-Haired Boy: “Sorry about that! Ah!”

As we almost collided in the corner, we locked eyes.

With his golden curls and clear blue eyes, I recognized the boy.

Mitsuki: “You... We met in town before.”

------------Flashback-----------

Curly-haired boy: "I'm thirsty."

Mitsuki: "Wait here. I'll go get you some water!"

Curly-haired boy: "It's fine! I'm okay."

Mitsuki: "But you look like you're in so much pain."

Curly-haired boy: "Don't worry about me. My little sister is waiting, so I have to go."

---------Flashback Ends--------

Curly-Haired Boy: “You’re the lady from the other day.”

Mitsuki: “I was worried about you after that. I’m glad to see you again!”

The unexpected reunion and his seemingly improved condition compared to before brought me a sense of relief.

The boy glanced briefly at the person beside me, then returned his gaze to me.

Curly-Haired Boy: “Sorry for being rude last time, Mademoiselle.”

Mitsuki: “No worries. Are you thirsty?”

Upon asking, he seemed to tremble for a moment.

Curly-Haired Boy: “Um, I’m okay. Sorry, I have to go now.”

Mitsuki: “Oh, wait. Take this if you like.”

I offered him one of the apples I’d bought earlier.

He hesitated, but then accepted it with a “thank you” before running off.

(I wonder what made him look scared for a moment.)

As I pondered his reaction...

Galileo: “Do you know that child?”

He asked me in an unexpectedly stern tone.

Mitsuki: “Not really. I just saw him wandering the main street before and spoke to him.”

Mitsuki: "Is everything alright with that kid?"

Galileo: "No, it's nothing."

Galileo: "Whatever you're involved in, it's none of my concern."

The day ended without me understanding the true meaning behind those dismissive words.

Late into the night, Drake visited Galileo's room.

Drake: "How many days has it been since Fawn came here? Never mind the days; how's she doing?"

Looking up at Drake leaning against the desk, Galileo glanced at him before averting his gaze.

Galileo: "If that question refers to her, then I don't see any special powers. That's my answer."

Drake: "Yeah. She looks like a normal girl to me, too, but that doesn't mean we haven't misjudged her."

Drake: "What if you're already caught up in Mitsuki's fate?"

Galileo: "........."

Though he recognized Drake's teasing, Galileo furrowed his eyebrows.

Drake: "It's just a thought. I never expected us to end up living together like this."

Galileo: "I admit it was selfish of me in that regard."

Galileo: "For some reason, I couldn't ignore that girl who confronted me head-on."

Remembering Mitsuki's straightforward gaze, he clenched his hand with a bitter feeling.

Drake: ".........."

Galileo: "However, she will eventually come to realize how much she has lived in idealism and her powerlessness."

Galileo: "I won't be caught up in the gears of fate. I will accomplish my purpose no matter what."

Leaving his room, Drake reached for the gun hanging at his waist.

Drake: "I even thought about getting rid of her if she interferes with our goals."

The golden embellishments on the gun glinted faintly in the darkness.

Drake: "The woman of destiny is a hindrance to the destruction I want to see."

Drake: "But, Fawn, I'm starting to wonder what you will bring to him."

------------Flashback-----------

Mitsuki: "So you're one of the important brethren Galileo managed to save."

Mitsuki: "I'm glad you're by Galileo's side."

---------Flashback Ends--------

Recalling the conversation in the garden under the moonlight, Drake holstered his gun.

Drake: "Well, let's see what happens from here."

Drake: "But seriously, I didn't know Galileo was sensitive to hot food."

Like distant, undiscovered stars, no one knows how this fate will unfold.

However, the events that follow are about to reveal some small truths.

Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Next Part

[brainwormsdepository]

It’s You, Nancy

Pairing: Nancy Birch x Lady!Reader

Warnings: None

You watched Nancy through your drawing room window while she paced outside your door as she usually did, building up her courage to knock. It wasn’t fair to her, you knew, but you did so like the flush that colored her cheeks after she spent so long working herself up. The two of you had a rather unusual budding friendship. She’d come by every so often, usually once a week, for tea and conversation. If she had any problems you had both the capital and space to help. In exchange, she gave you the most honest and frank company you’d ever had. No masks, just people. It helped that the view was nice too—Nancy was a handsome woman. After a few more minutes of watching, you felt she had worried herself enough and opened the door yourself.

“If you keep it up, you’ll have to stay the night.”

Nancy swung her head around, eyes wide and surprised. Before she could even question or protest, you continued. “You’ve been pacing outside this door long enough. Come inside.”

You turned on your heel and made your way toward the drawing room, knowing full well Nancy would follow. It was only a matter of seconds before you heard the click of the door closing behind you and the sound of her plodding footsteps along the corridor floor. Tea was already set and waiting as you took a seat beside the table. Nancy lingered in the doorway a moment more, face flushed from ears to neck just as you liked. She nervously clenched her hands around her flogging rod, once, twice, then three times before joining you.

“You’re more restless than usual. Is something wrong?”

“No,” Nancy answered quickly, pursing her lips. She looked back at you, expression uncertain. “Maybe.” She relented.

“You can tell me anything, Nance.” You reassured, “there’s nothing you can say that will make me think less of you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Did you sell a young girl to Quigley?”

“What? No! Never!” Nancy shouted, appalled.

“Then I think we’re sorted. So, what troubles you?” You picked up your cup and saucer and sipped daintily at your tea. Nancy, for her part, seemed to be partially eased, though admittedly not by much. She took a deep breath and exhaled shakily.

“You keep a journal…”

Ah, yes. That was another game of yours.

“I would barely classify it as such. It’s mostly poems at this point.”

You’d been purposefully leaving it out on the table for her. You’d find excuses to disappear into another room for a while, giving her time alone with temptation. And look she did, the journal always slightly shifted from where you had left it. Not that she would have known how precisely you kept track. But that wasn’t what mattered. What mattered was that Nancy had a brain and you did little to hide your affections in written word. Many of those poems yearned for her. She knew, just as you wanted her to and there she was ready to confront you over it.

“Yea, well, I read some of it. I know I shouldn’t ‘uv,” she rushed to say, “but I didn’t realize what it was—at first, that is.”

“I’m not upset. If I was that protective of it, the journal wouldn’t leave my bedroom.”

“Maybe… maybe you should be then.” She said quietly. You felt your cheeks warm at her words.

“That bad?” you tried to joke, suddenly and horribly vulnerable.

“No! You write beautifully. It’s just that… unless you’re writing from the perspective of a man,” her voice lowered and her eyes searched for house staff, “you seem to harbor affection for… the womanly.” She grimaced at her own fumbled choice of words.

“My staff already knows, Nance. And they’re paid too well for any of them to care.” You drank deep from your tea, equally relieved and tense. Had she not figured it out? “Is that all you wished to say?”

“Oh… well, yeah.” Okay. Maybe she didn’t know.

“Does it bother you? My affection for women?” Nancy shook her head at that, a small laugh passing through her lips.

“No, I don’t think—“ Nancy cut herself off and assessed her words for a moment. She sheepishly looked back at you. “Not really in a position to judge.”

“We’re kindred spirits, you and I. Most of those poems are about one woman, if you can believe it. She has me quite bewitched.”

“I know the feelin’,” Nancy admitted, eyes distant in thought.

“She has beautiful dark hair, if a bit unkempt.” You smiled, looking at her. “But her eyes, Nance, the most striking blue I’ve ever seen. She makes the sea look green with envy.”

Nancy dipped her head before standing up suddenly. She rapped her knuckles against the table twice and swallowed hard. “I think I should be on my way,” she said, looking rather crestfallen.

“Wait.” You followed her motion and before she could step away, took her hand in yours and reached up with the other to gently cup her face.

“She’s you, Nancy, don’t you understand? I left the journal out for you to read because I wanted you to know.” Nancy kept still, searching your eyes with a look of disbelief etched onto her face. “May I kiss you?” Nancy didn’t answer, didn’t budge—just stood as if she had been caught in the gaze of Medusa herself. You leaned forward, giving her time to respond, to pull away or turn her head but nothing came. Cautiously, you pressed your lips to hers and felt the warmth of her mouth against yours. She exhaled into you as you deepened the kiss, taking her lower lip between yours before, finally, she reciprocated. She tasted of sweat and alcohol, but you didn’t mind. How could you? It was Nancy, after all.

When she pulled away, it was with a hopeful, if shy, smile and a delightfully pink blush painted across her cheeks. “If you must go, I only ask that you don’t stay away long,” you whispered. Nancy dipped her head bashfully and nodded before strolling out of your home and into the afternoon heat. As you watched her leave from the window, you noted that her back never looked so straight.

[admiringlove]

[18:13] . . .

"you are quite literally the most infuriating person i have ever met," you say, placing your chin on your palm with your elbow resting on the table. the man in front of you shrugs cockily, "what can i say? i have that effect on people."

you scoff, taking a sip from your coffee, "why'd you call me here, atsumu? and before you say something dumb, you've wasted six hours of my day running around town, asking me for fashion advice when i know for a fact that you already have an outfit for that stupid event."

"that event is for charity, how dare ya call it stupid?" he feigns offense, "do ya not like charity?"

you narrow your eyes before brushing a few fingers through your hair, "i have more important places to be, you know. for example, at home. spending my one off-day from work in peace. with pizza and sweatpants that are way too big for me."

"are ya not at peace when yer with me?" he wiggles his eyebrows. you groan, "no, atsumu! i'm not! you showed up at my place out of nowhere without texting me and dragged me to a mall and then to some showroom and now here."

and when you look at him, he seems pleased with himself. his eyes are crinkled because of his weird smirk—or is it a smile? you can't really tell. you can't believe it. this man wasted half of your day and is happy because of your misery. you almost want to throw your coffee in his face.

"i had somethin' important to tell ya," he says, looking for something from the bags his clothes are in—the clothes he shopped for even though he already has two whole closets in his apartment filled with stuff he doesn't need or wear on a regular basis.

"i'm listening," you place your cup on the saucer after the last sip, crossing your arms on the table as you lean in slightly. eyebrows raised, eyes curious and lips tightly parted, "go on, 'tsumu."

a sigh is what comes out of his mouth at first. and then he pulls out a small picture frame—you don't even have to think to recognize it. it's from the day the two of you became "best friends". the day he lost a match in second year of high school and came home to find you in his kitchen with his mother, making something to make him and his twin happy. in the picture, you're smothering cake onto atsumu's face as osamu laughs in the background, holding atsumu's arms back so he doesn't get you back.

"ya like it?" he asks, voice suddenly soft.

"i love it," you smile, "what's the occasion?"

"ah well," he shrugs, "thought i'd do somethin' nice for ya for once."

"you never think that," you narrow your eyes, "not by your own volition. what did you do?"

"i didn't do anything!" he says, defensively, "why would you think i did something?"

"this is the nicest thing you've given me in years," you accuse him, "your last christmas present to me was a gift card with no money in it!"

"okay," he laughs, "you gotta admit, that was hilarious."

"no, 'tsumu, it was embarrassing," you roll your eyes, "what are you trying to get at here? did you make osamu angry again? or is it your mom this time?"

"i like you," he says. eyes deadly silent and lips tightly shut in a straight line, "okay? that's what i did this time."

you become silent for a few seconds. then, you muster out, "oh."

he watches you for a moment, "oh? really?"

you don't know what to say. this point in time feels like it has paused. and slowly, it's falling in on itself. you feel a surge of emotions that you can't describe. when you were a kid, you'd watched atsumu fall over and break his first tooth. you had looked at him in awe as he stood up again, dusted himself off and said "woah! i broke my tooth!" as if he wasn't in pain at all. as if his knees weren't scraped and bleeding. that was most of your relationship with atsumu. you, watching him in awe as if he were the moon and the stars and the entire universe wrapped up in one person with every imperfection making him more flawless.

"yeah," you shrug. but your heart beats all the same as it has all these years. thump. thump. thump. thump. as if it didn't know anything other than this. only atsumu. atsumu only.

"oh come on," he whines, "i literally just confessed ta ya."

you almost want to laugh. it feels so weird, having the person whom you thought never saw you in that light actually reciprocating your feelings. surreal was how you'd describe it, really.

"i don't know what to say," you mumble, looking at your lap, "this is shocking for me, you know."

"oh," he looks taken aback as if he didn't just fulfill one of your biggest desires, "um, do ya need some time to process it or somethin'? i don't mind."

his eyes look the most sincere thety have ever been. brown like coffee that has just been brewed. lips as pink as the clouds at dusk, the same shade ever-so-slightly dusting his cheeks.

"no, 'tsumu. it's just funny," you smile, looking away. suddenly, you feel shy instead of nervous. it's one thing to have the love of your life confess to you. it's another to tell them you love them too when you know you have a positive outcome waiting for you with open arms.

"how's it funny?" he looks confused now. but you find that adorable all the same.

"it's funny because," you pause, meeting his gaze, "i like you too."

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[fortune-fool02]

Late-Night Coffee

Leon Kennedy x Barista female reader

Summary: Another long work day in the café, and a sweet moment between the barista and the rookie. 

Coffee Shop AU

Warning: Fluff. No Spoilers for Resident Evil 2 remake. 

Something cute and sweet for baby boy Leon. If it goes well, I might write a part two. Please enjoy! 

After passing over the last order for the day, [Name] gave a small sigh. Today had been quite busy, leaving her and her colleagues without a moment to have a proper break but they were able to make it to the end of the day without any issues. The soft patter of rain hitting the windows blended with the light-toned music that filled the warm café. Only one customer remained. 

[Name] quickly wiped down the counter before slipping from behind the counter and walked over to the dozing man. He had arrived an hour ago after finishing his shift at work, looking drained of energy. His police uniform a little crinkled but still composed. Gently pushing the empty cup aside, [Name] gently shook his shoulder, 

“Leon? It’s time to wake up.” She softly spoke, smiling as his sleepy face. Leon started coming here almost religiously since he started work at Racoon Police Department. It started as pleasant service but soon developed into something more, a sweet friendship over warm cups and welcoming aromas. Tonight, though, Leon just wanted someplace to relax after a hard day, so [Name] didn’t see any issue with letting him stay for a bit until the rain stopped. 

Her other colleagues had left not too long ago, as the day was over with, and left her to lock up the café. Nothing new but she didn’t mind. It gave her time to think and relax after a long day, as well as letting Leon get some more sleep. 

“Hm? Wha?” Lifting his head, Leon forced his eyes open, blinking away the sleep and taking in his surroundings. Bits of his dark blonde hair sticking to his face from laying his head on his arm. Sitting upright, he stretched his arms, his back lightly cracking as he did. At least the seats were comfy, not like those solid plastic ones Leon had to endure for hours on end at his desk when not out on patrol. 

“Sorry, [Name]. I guess I was more tired than I realised.” He smiled, his sky blue eyes sparkling in the light a bit. Taking the empty cup and saucer, [Name] simply waved it off. He brought his hands up to his hair, trying to smoothen it out a bit more. 

“Don’t worry about it. It’s the least I can do for our young rookie officer.” The two lightly chuckled at that, the nickname had stuck for a bit now, though he didn’t mind it coming from her. Leon pushed himself up and looked towards the window, pulling his jacket from behind the chair. 

“Still raining? At least it’s not as bad as before.” He thought aloud, ensuring he had all of his stuff. 

“You got your car?” A small headshake was her answer. The car needed some repairs done and wouldn’t be ready for another day or two. [Name] stopped and thought. Leon lived a few streets away, and she not too far away either. Plus, he was quite cute. “If you want, you can stay at my place for the night. It’s no trouble.” 

A look of surprise covered Leon’s face, the faintest hint of a pink touching his cheeks companied with a small smile. “If it’s fine with you, I wouldn’t mind. Thank you.” Flutters of a comforting warmth filled her chest at this, something about that look in Leon’s eyes made her feel light and bubbly. Looking over at him, she noted the look on his face, as if he was conflicted with something. 

“Is something wrong, Leon?” The rookie looked at her, his mouth opening and closing, unsure if he wanted to tell her something or not. He took a step closer, trying to muster some speck of courage. 

“Well, I was... wondering if, well...” He mentally cursed himself. He could deal with criminals all day long, but trying to talk to [Name]? Near impossible at this point. “I wanted to ask if... you wanted to go someplace and... do something sometime.” He was not expecting it to sound so clunky, a high-school kid trying to ask a girl out but his nerves getting the better of him. His face flushing with a heat that almost burned his cheeks. 

A soft chuckle left her lips at this, her own cheeks tinting pink at his question. “That sounds like fun, Leon. Just say when and the time.” The two headed towards her car once the café was closed up, neither able to stop smiling as they settled in a comfortable silence. 

He certainly was going to make the date memorable for her.

[leggerefiore]

Empty Café

cw: fluff, confession fic

pairing: Ingo/Reader

Summary: A strange man lingers in your café, catching your attention. You think he's cute.

----

You giggled at the man who had been sat at your café for hours now, just scribbling away at a pile of paperwork and going onto his computer. He was quite a looker, with his dark, knitted mock-neck top and slacks complimenting his natural paleness and light hair. You smiled at him as you took his cup again for a refill. His order had just been a plain dark-roast coffee. Seeing as he drank it all, you could only presume that is how he normally took his drink.

His presence was not unwanted, seeing as your café was a smaller, out of the way one, but the amount of work he seemed to be going through was strange. You wondered if he was usually busy or if this was normal for him. The sound of the saucer being placed on the table caught his attention from the sheets that had consumed him. His neutral facial expression, yet gentle eyes, made you all the more curious about him. You smiled at him softly.

“Are you okay?” you asked finally, “... You've been here for so long and haven't taken a break from your work even once.” It was concerning to see someone possibly overworking themselves. You typically did not bother people with conversation, but something about him was so distantly familiar.

“Ah, thank you for your concern,” he started, voice strong and a bit laid, “I'm quite fine, I assure you. I was just trying to get caught up on some things I had let fall behind.” His words were a bit reassuring. Still, you also could not help but notice his lack of eating, too.

“We sell sandwiches,” you told him, “... I'll make you one, on the house.” His eyes grew wide as they finally took a glance at the clock on the wall. The soft pink that dusted across his cheeks was a pretty sight. Who was he? You wanted to assume he was a model. If he was not, he certainly could be.

“No need for that, I'll pay,” he shook his head, “... Do have a muffuletta sandwich?” He asked, trying to gaze at the menu board hung up behind the counter. You nodded.

“Mhm, sure do,” you beamed at him, “I'll have that right out for you.” And, you were still going to give it to him for free. His company had been enough for the day, as it did get quite lonely when you locked customers. The sandwich was easily prepared as you brought it back out to him. His thanked you so politely and finally took a break from his work to eat. You tried not to watch him too much, as you went back to the counter.

Time passed as it usually did, a few customers lingering and most taking their drink to go, but he remained. You felt oddly attached to him, even though you barely said a word to each other. When he finally started to pack up and came to pay at the counter, you genuinely grinned at him.

“Say, are you a model?” you questioned him as you worked your POS machine. His stiff expression broke as a small laugh came from him. He shook his head.

“No,” he replied as he placed his card back into his wallet, “You're the second person to ask me that since I moved here.” The small smile on his lips warmed your heart. Well, your intuition may have been wrong, but at least you made him smile. “I work in the subway,” he explained, “... If you ride it, you'll probably catch me around the Gear Station.” Suddenly, it stuck you.

He looked so different out of his uniform!

“Oh,” you gasped, “Are you Emmet?”

The sudden laughter from him alongside the shaking of his head made you fall into hysterics, too. Well, he certainly looked like Emmet! “I'm his twin brother, Ingo,” he corrected, “Thank you for letting me stay here for so long… I really do enjoy venues like this.” You nodded, a bit stunned at the thought the odd Subway Boss you met on a late trip back from Undella was a twin.

“No problem,” you told him, “Feel free to come back whenever. I really did enjoy your company.” Ingo agreed to return and bud you farewell for the night. You sighed and got ready to close.

You regretted not trying to talk to him more now.

Well… You supposed you would just have to wait for his return. Or, maybe, you could actually try your hand at the Battle Lines.

~

A week had passed since then, and you rode the train back home after closing late one night. Few people joined you on the train, most choosing to ride back into the city rather than out of it. You yawned and rubbed at your eyes as you shifted your bag around. The gentle movements of the train were seriously about to rock you to sleep. You closed your eyes for a moment and…

… Felt a firm hand on your shoulder, shaking you awake. Startled, you tried to jump away from the tight grasp. Your eyes surveyed around you and found a familiar face gazing at you. His clothes may have changed since then, but you could recognise him easily. Ingo seemed a bit startled, too. He released your shoulder and stood up tall. “… We meet again,” his voice was still loud, yet the gentleness was there, “You fell asleep on the train. It's come back to the station, now.” Heat rushed into your face as embarrassment coursed through your veins.

Averting your eyes, you let out a sigh. Nimbasa. You were stuck in Nimbasa. Standing up, you politely bowed your head at the man. “I'm sorry for this,” you spoke courteously, “Thank you for waking me up.” You had been a bit tired as of late, but you did not think it was enough to fall asleep on the train. Ingo remained with stiff body language.

“… How far is the station from your home?” he asked, clearly concerned, “I hope I do not sound like a creep, but I simply am worried about letting someone like you walk alone so late at night.” He was worried about you? You felt a small smile on your lips.

Shaking your head, you replied, “Don't worry, Ingo. I'm not too far away.” You readjusted your bag and stood up tall. It was a lie, honestly, but you were not about to burden someone apparently as overworked as him with that. “I'll call a friend, and they'll come get me,” you explained, “Once again, thank you for waking me up.” He nodded and led you off the train and into the station proper. You quickly sent a text to a friend letting them know your situation.

“Please do be safe on your return to your home,” Ingo's voice was softer now, “… Do not overwork yourself, either.” You smiled at him.

~

You were working a few days later and cleaning some dirty equipment when the bell chimed, signalling the entrance of a customer. You chirped out a greeting as you turned around but stopped midway. Ingo stood near the counter alongside… You presumed, Emmet. He was truly a twin. While you had not disbelieved him, it was more stunning to see two identical people in person. Ingo gave a polite grin to you, while Emmet beamed brighter than the sun.

“Ah, hello,” Ingo greeted you, too, “Did you make it home safely the other day?” You nodded as the smiling twin took his time to eye your dessert display. “I believe you mentioned knowing of my younger brother previously, but I wish to introduce him again,” he pulled Emmet away from the sweets, “This is my twin, Emmet.” His brother waved excitedly at you.

“Oh, you are who brother was verrry worried about,” Emmet's tone almost sounded like he was teasing, “Check safety, do not fall asleep on the train!” You laughed at his tone. He was certainly more animated than his older brother. Their fashion styles were completely different, you noted. Emmet wore a baggy sweat shirt, while his brother had taken to a fitted sweater and overcoat.

“I don't plan on it,” you assured them both, “What would you two like today?” You quickly took down their orders. Emmet seemed to want to drown his coffee in sugar and sweet cream in comparison to how Ingo still took his plain. The younger also ordered a slice of marble cake. They sat down at a table and quickly feel into an easy discussion about the subway and pokemon battles. You continued your cleaning until you heard coughing. Turning around, you saw Ingo's face bright red and Emmet lightly patting his back.

“I-Is he okay?” you asked in a panic. Emmet nodded and motioned you over.

“He is just flustered,” Emmet's eyes cut into his brother, “Thank you!” You calmed down as Ingo regained his breath and shot a glare at Emmet.

“My brother made an ill joke,” Ingo explained, “I am sorry to have worried you.” You shook your head. You backed away as you headed back to the counter. “… Hey,” he called out, “Er… Are you free any time soon?” You flinched.

“… Shop's closed on Mondays,” you told him, “That's my day off, usually.” Emmet giggled at his brother as he switched his gaze between you and his brother eagerly.

“Could… Would you mind meeting me at the Gear Station?” he asked, “I would like to spend some time with you…” You felt warmth rush to your cheeks as you realised his words. Was he waking you out? Judging by how Emmet was acting, you felt like he was.

“I'd love to, Ingo,” you told him.

The sweet, relieved smile he gave you made your heart warm.