#but then again i guess that customer i got impatient with has to deal with 50 more cashiers today so tough world

[justjwab]

Top 10 posts customer service workers hate reading

very controversial opinion here, but sometimes customer service workers are the problem 😶

[custardcrazy]

i have a Ted logan request! it’s kinda inspired by the tutor piece you wrote but instead of being Ted’s tutor she’s Deacons tutor (or babysitter) instead and she comes over to the Logan household and Ted sees her there and is immediately head over heels for her and is constantly trying to find an excuse to go to whatever room she’s in and stay there much to the annoyance of Deacon and their father on occasion

sorry if i got to specific but you’re my fav Ted Logan writer and I’m happy his requests are open!!!

young as we are

summary: you're deacon logan's new babysitter. it doesn't seem like it'll be anything too special -- until you meet his cute older brother, that is. (gn!reader)

wordcount: 3.8k

A/N: okay so I might've changed around the prompt a teensy bit, but hopefully it still fits what you wanted. i'm no good at writing slow stuff so i got kinda impatient lmao (also. i'm?? your favorite?? you have no idea how genuinely happy that makes me. i'm smiling like an idiot. thank you so much.)

You checked the note you'd written the address down on to make sure you hadn't gotten the wrong house -- okay, all good -- before ringing the doorbell. 

The house itself was pretty nice, just looking at the exterior. One of the perks of babysitting in a somewhat well-off area like this one was that you usually got paid decently for your troubles; and it wasn't nearly as bad as working retail, if the stories you'd heard from your friends were anything to go off of. And kids could be sweet, unlike food service customers. 

It was only half a minute before the door was answered by a balding middle-aged man with a stern expression. Mr. Logan, you presumed; it was probably his voice you'd heard on the phone. 

"You must be the babysitter," he stated directly, not giving you time to answer, "come in, then. I have some things I have to inform you of." He didn't wait, disappearing into the house and leaving the door ajar behind him. Feeling slightly awkward, you followed. 

Once you entered the foyer, he began speaking again. "Deacon's probably in his room right now. He has to be in bed by nine P.M., and he knows that, but I don't doubt that without me being present he'll try to stay up." Indicating some bills on the counter, he continued, "there's some money for a pizza. The number to call is on the refrigerator. Dinner should be at six." 

"Oh, and my … eldest son, Ted." If it was even possible, his tone became more snide. "He should be back in an hour or two. Don't let him bother you at all -- if he gets too annoying, just let me know when I get back later in the evening, and I'll deal with him." 

You barely got out an "uh, okay, thanks" before Mr. Logan was yelling for Deacon. 

He was maybe around twelve, you guessed. It was obvious that he was reluctant to come downstairs, but did so after a look from his father. You smiled at him, but he didn't return it; you didn't really mind. He was at that awkward age, after all. And if your instincts were correct, an overbearing father could inflict a number on any kid. 

It wasn't that you weren't familiar with strict parents -- but it was near-impossible to get entirely used to them. Being in charge of their children meant that you had to be extra careful. You couldn't trust a young kid to not tell on you if you were a little lenient when it came to bedtimes, and you couldn't trust an older kid to not try and put the fact that you were more easy-going than their parents to the test. 

Still, once Mr. Logan had left, you immediately relaxed. 

And so did Deacon, by the looks of it, because suddenly his tense demeanor all but disappeared. 

It was almost frightening how abruptly he turned his attention from his father's car pulling down the driveway to you. 

"You ever watched RoboCop?" 

He asked, with a certain bluntness only preteen boys were capable of. 

"No, I haven't." Encouragingly, you smiled again. "What's that?" 

"I have the tape," and already he was turning away, "gimmie a sec." 

You had the sneaking suspicion that his father didn't have the same enthusiasm for science fiction movies.

And you were right; even during the movie he spoke up now and then to tell you stuff about the characters or the plot. About how "RoboCop could probably take down an entire army by himself". You thought it was kind of spooky how the titular protagonist was a reanimated guy forced to follow cyborg programming to uphold "justice" in an already-corrupt city, disregarding any humanity he once had. 

… Or something like that. Deacon just found the guy "badass". 

By the time that you'd nearly reached the ending of the movie, you were invested. 

But not too invested to not look up when the front door opened, and thus you made eye contact with probably the prettiest guy you'd seen in a while. 

He froze midway through his path to the stairs. 

For a moment, both of you just looked at each other. He looked familiar. 

Oh, yeah, you'd seen him at school a couple times. Passed by him in the hallways or in the cafeteria, maybe. You hadn't really noticed him before, but maybe that was because you hadn't gotten a good look at him. Like now. 

And then Deacon took notice, coughing in an awfully non-subtle way into his fist, and you realized that maybe you shouldn't stare like a creep. 

"Uh, you must be Ted, right?" You laughed semi-awkwardly. "Hi. I'm just gonna be babysitting Deacon until your dad gets home." 

Hopefully you remembered his name correctly. From the way his father had said it, you had expected him to be some flavor of delinquent -- piercings, leather jacket, all that stuff that an uptight man like Mr. Logan would disprove of. A high school dropout who was bumming around in his dad's basement without a source of stable income. 

That couldn't be further from the truth; the Ted you were seeing now was a slightly gangly, floppy-haired boy your age who was looking at you like he'd seen an angel. 

It took him a moment, but he nodded vigorously in response to your question. 

"Yes. Yeah. I'm -- that's me." Ted glanced away, finally breaking away your gaze. "Um. What's your name? I - … I don't think we've been introduced before, dude." Even from your position on the couch, you could pick out spots of rose pink on his cheeks. Even as he focused determinedly on the ground. 

You couldn't help but be hopelessly endeared, so you gave him your name. 

He gently repeated it once, as if trying out how it felt on his tongue. "Oh. Radical." 

There was another brief moment, in which the movie still playing on the boxy television faded into the background. Then, his eyes were back on yours; they were a warm brown, you noticed. 

Apparently, Deacon had enough of his older brother interrupting his sacred movie, because he spoke up again, breaking the silence. "Ted, don't you have stuff to do?" 

You wanted to reprimand Deacon for his less-than-polite tone, but didn't have the chance, because Ted responded first.

"Oh." Seemingly snapping back to reality, he glanced away. "Yeah. Sorry 'bout that." 

Before you could tell him that you were going to order food later, he'd bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time. You heard the far-off shutting of a door; and then a little later, muffled music that had a lot of distorted electric guitar and drums. 

Deacon scoffed to himself, but settled further into the couch cushions. 

You didn't see Ted again that night. He didn't even come downstairs to snatch a slice of pepperoni pizza, and just remained in his room. Maybe he didn't want to bother his little brother anymore, you thought, trying your hardest not to feel disappointed; even if you'd barely had any sort of conversation with him, there was something … Something very magnetic. 

Mr. Logan was back at around eleven, and by that time you were seated by the television once more. Alone, because you'd miraculously managed to get Deacon to go to bed. 

"I'm guessing everything went fine," remarked Mr. Logan, taking off his cap. You were beginning to get used to his clipped tone, and shut off the terrible sitcom you'd been killing time with. 

"Yeah, I left the change for the food on the counter." 

He pulled out his wallet, counting out crisp bills. 

"Did Ted give you any trouble?" 

Taking the money, you made sure it was the correct amount -- why'd you even bother, a man like Mr. Logan must've been specific about everything. "No, not at all. He barely said anything to me, actually." 

He only gave you a noncommittal hum in response to that, not even looking in your direction as he headed for the counter; probably to make sure you weren't stealing any of the change. "Well, good night." 

It wasn't a thank you -- not even close, but you'd take it. You'd been paid, after all.  "Good night." 

Ted's face upon seeing you still was fresh in your mind as you made your way home. And during the next several days that passed. It wasn't surprising, really. Nobody had ever looked at you like that; nobody had ever looked in awe of you on sight. At least, not anybody that had really caught your attention. 

Eventually, Mr. Logan called again. Apparently he had another work thing to do -- not that you were listening closely when he mentioned it. Your heart jumped at another opportunity to see Ted; it was a little embarrassing, really. You weren't some boy-crazed lunatic, pining after a guy you barely knew. 

Well, pining was a strong word. But you did pay extra attention when walking around at school, trying to catch a glimpse of him on your way to your classes. 

(You didn't.) 

This time, your pulse picked up when you walked up to the house. You even hesitated before you rang the doorbell again. But when you did, you heard some general commotion from within the house before Deacon answered the door, looking a little annoyed. 

"Hi," he said, "Dad's getting ready or whatever." 

He stepped aside to let you in. "I thought Ted was gonna answer the door. But he ran off as soon as he heard the doorbell." Sighing, he flopped down on the couch. "Lazy ass." 

As if on cue, Mr. Logan entered the living room, fixing his hat. You idly wondered if he wore it to hide the fact that he basically lacked all of his hair except for on the sides and back. 

"Deacon, watch your language." 

"Sorry." Even though his voice was muffled into the cushions, he didn't sound apologetic in the slightest. 

Mr. Logan turned his attention to you. "You don't need a refresher on anything, right." It sounded more like an order than a question, but you chose to look past it. At least he had offered to jog your memory if needed. The bare minimum was nice sometimes. 

"Yeah, I'll be fine." 

He gave you a curt nod. It wasn't until you heard the garage door shutting behind his car that Deacon sat bolt upright, suddenly energized. 

You looked at him expectantly. 

"Let's watch Ghostbusters," he declared. "Dad thinks it's stupid." 

And so, with little fanfare, you were basically doing the same thing as last time. But instead of dystopia, the setting was mildly less disturbing this time. And the main protagonists were human and likable. No offense to cyborg cops, but he didn't offer much in the way of personality -- so nobody could blame you. 

You were sure you'd seen this movie before, but the memory was vague enough that most of the events were new to you. However, even though you were focused on watching the film, there was something else on the back of your mind. An underlying antsiness; and you had a good idea why. 

Said antsiness was confirmed when, about half an hour into the movie, you heard footsteps coming down the stairs. It took all of your willpower not to look, but you knew who it was. 

It was only until he breached your peripheral vision that you allowed yourself to smile. 

"Hey, Ted." 

Today, he was wearing all loose clothes -- a baggy tee shirt with BLACK SABBATH printed on it in slightly distorted purple font, and what looked like sleep shorts. All in all, it made him look very soft. Like he was planning to do nothing but lay in bed for the entire day. Even his hair was kind of mussed up, a curl or two (or three) sticking out from the rest. 

He returned your smile tenfold with a near-blinding grin. "Hey." 

Deacon, unlike you, didn't have to hide anything. 

"Are you just gonna stand there and stare at the babysitter?" 

Delightfully, Ted flushed, hand flying up to fiddle with his hair. "Uh. No. I was just wondering if I could -- " he hesitated, before continuing, "if I could watch the movie too, y'know. I think Ghostbusters is a totally exceptional example of cinema." You didn't catch the way Deacon narrowed his eyes at his older brother. 

"Okay. Just don't interrupt too much." 

" 'Course." 

You were mildly startled when Ted sat down in the middle of you and Deacon -- you'd expected him to sit on the other side, but apparently that wasn't the case. The younger Logan let out an audible sigh and scooted further away. 

True to his word, Ted didn't speak up for the majority of the movie. But you were aware of his presence in a way that was almost comparable; since you were mere inches apart. He didn't sit still, and adjusted his position every so often, but you had the feeling that was the norm since Deacon didn't mention it. 

However, it seemed by the near-ending Ted reached his limit on not making at least one comment. 

"Dude. I forgot how impressive the special effects are," he mused in his best attempt at a hushed tone. "Must've taken them ages to do this stuff." 

"Yeah," you agreed, glancing over, "it's pretty cool. Slimer really gives me the creeps." 

Ted opened his mouth to respond, but shut up when a loud "shhh!" came from Deacon's general direction. 

For a moment, you and him just looked at each other. Then, not able to stifle it in time, you snorted; he lapsed into a fit of giggles, and as a result of that so did you. It wasn't really your fault -- his laugh was very contagious, even muffled like this. 

Somehow, you managed to get through the rest of the movie without much more incident. Even if your heart lurched every time Ted's arm or leg accidentally brushed up against yours with the way he was fidgeting. 

By the time it was over, it was around six, and so you called to order a pizza. Ted didn't retreat back upstairs, much to Deacon's disappointment, and pretty much hovered around you as you all waited for dinner to arrive. Not in a weird way, not at all -- he just resembled a puppy trying to get attention, really. 

"What'd you think of the movie?" He asked, just after you'd gotten off the phone with the pizza place. 

"It was pretty good," you hummed, putting down the receiver. "A couple moments were slow, but overall I enjoyed it. What's not to like about some guys capturing ghosts and defeating otherworldly entities?" 

"An excellent way to phrase it," grinned Ted, "and I agree most wholeheartedly. The ghost-buster dudes are impossible not to root for." 

You chatted a little more about it with him; his way of talking was a bit unique, but somehow you found it just as attractive as everything else. Sadly, your conversation was cut short by the doorbell. As soon as you'd taken a single step in the direction of the door -- 

" -- I'll get that!" declared Ted, with an enthusiasm that was a little frightening, already moving to grab the pizza. 

"Hey, wait, there's money on the counter!" 

"... Oh." 

Backtracking, he grabbed the cash and resumed his course to the door, covering the distance with long strides. 

It wasn't long before the food was gone; and you unceremoniously stuffed the ripped-apart cardboard box into the recycling bin like last time, hoping Mr. Logan wouldn't take issue with how you'd basically just jammed it in. After Deacon had wolfed down maybe three slices, he'd disappeared somewhere. Probably to his room -- you  reminded him to be in bed in time, lest Mr. Logan stop letting you babysit, and he'd only replied with a dull "okay". 

You were practically alone with Ted now. 

"So, uh." He broke the silence as soon as you returned to the living room. "... Wanna go upstairs? There's not much to do down here 'sides watching more movies." 

"I don't see why not," you said without thinking. 

For a second, he looked caught off-guard just as much as you were, (seriously, what) but recovered quickly. "Cool. C'mon, dude." 

Beaming, he motioned to you, and you were helpless to do anything but follow. 

His room was a bit messy, but you would've found it strange if it wasn't. Posters were all over the walls, Metallica and Van Halen and other assorted bands and movies. In the corner was a shelf filled to the brim with various memorabilia; action figures, guitar picks, markers and books that looked kind of dusty. His laundry bin was overflowing a little, but at least it was confined to another corner. Everything was just so Ted and that was probably the best way to describe it. 

He made his way over to the window, opening it just a crack. "Let's just keep the window open so we can hear Dad pulling in the driveway. His car is super loud -- I think he'd go ballistic if you were hanging out with me." 

You knew he was right, but it still struck a minor chord on your heartstrings -- which you attempted to move past as fast as possible. "Oh, yeah. Good thinking." 

At your compliment, he was all smiles again. 

You felt yourself melt a little, and sat on the bed before your knees gave out or something. 

Before long, you were both sprawled out on the carpet playing a serious game of Uno. For a guy who you were learning wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box, he was pretty good at making you question your own abilities; either that or he was just extremely, ridiculously lucky. He did have an awful poker face, after all. 

He snickered every time he drew a plus four or plus two card, and blanched whenever he didn't have a playable card. Which was cute, but also pretty advantageous for you. 

After a frustratingly long time of going back and forth; of him denying you every single time you dared call Uno, you finally won. 

"Dude!" Ted exclaimed, throwing down his hand as if deeply and truly offended, but you could see that he was grinning again. "That was totally 'cause I let my guard down." 

"I don't know," you teased, "or maybe it was because of my great and unbeatable card-game skills." 

He hung his head in mock-shame. "You're right. I suck." 

You were conflicted between bullying him a little more or comforting him to lessen the blow of your victory, but before you could decide, you both heard the tell-tale sound of tires crunching on the pavement and the whir of the garage door opening. Ted scrambled over to the window, peeking through the small opening he'd left earlier. 

"He's back," he announced, turning back to face you. 

"Okay," you said, getting to your feet and making sure you hadn't dropped anything. "See you later, Ted." 

" 'Bye!" He called after you.

Thankfully, you managed to make it down to the living room, jump onto the couch, and fumble for the remote just in time to turn on the television a good minute before Mr. Logan entered. During that brief time, you felt strangely like you were a spy, a double-agent -- that if you were caught fraternizing with the enemy, you'd be given grave consequences. 

It was hilarious, you had to admit. 

Mr. Logan didn't ask you about Ted this time, just cutting right to the chase and taking out his wallet.

"Is the change on the counter again?" 

"Yeah," you answered, giving him a "thanks" as he handed you a couple bills. You marveled again at how clean they were -- it almost felt criminal to stuff them in your pocket, but what else could you do? 

Once more, Mr. Logan turned away, going for the counter. "Good night." If he was as disinterested as he sounded, it was no wonder why he didn't try to make small talk with you at all. And you were grateful for it; you were sure that it'd just be awkward and nothing else. You rushed a little to leave. 

But just as your hand turned the doorknob, you were stopped in your tracks by a shout. 

"Wait!" 

Apparently, you and Mr. Logan were both equally shocked, because he also whipped around mid-action. 

In Ted's hasty descent down the stairs, he nearly tripped over himself, but regained what little composure he'd been holding onto, and jogged over to you. Either he didn't notice his father standing there, looking utterly baffled; or he just didn't care. In his hands he was holding a cassette tape. 

He held it out to you, still catching his breath. The color in his cheeks could be attributed to his rush downstairs, but you had a sneaking suspicion that wasn't entirely the case. "Here. Sorry. I was gonna give it to you earlier," bashfulness showed clearly in his expression, "but I forgot." 

It was only a second before you realized that you'd have to exit the situation to avoid any questions from his father -- whose eyes were darting between the two of you in an extremely worrying manner. So you took it from him, even whilst having absolutely no idea what it was. 

"Thanks." 

And with that, you were out the door. 

--

The second you got home, you got a good look at the tape. 

On the outside, written in an untidy scrawl in black Sharpie, was your answer. It was a mixtape. How much time had he spent making this for you? Your mind conjured up an image of him sitting by the record player you'd seen in his room, painstakingly selecting his favorite songs to record. 

Flipping it over, you realized there was a scrap of paper taped to it -- a note. 

You hardly had to think about the question hastily written on it with a bright pink marker, with little stars doodled around the edges. 

It was the only thing that was running through your mind for the rest of the night. They were agonizing, the few days that passed before you finally received a call from Mr. Logan again. It was probably the only time ever that you were glad to hear his voice. 

Deacon was a little disappointed when you told him to wait a minute to watch Raiders of the Lost Ark.

"Don't start loudly making out or anything," he said, sulking as you quickly ascended the stairs. You wanted to scold him for the sake of preserving your own dignity, but you had more pressing matters to focus on at the moment.

"So," Ted began sheepishly, after you entered his room. "You got my note, right?" 

"I listened to the tape, too," you answered near-breathlessly. "Yes. I'd love to spend more time with you, Ted." You smiled broadly. "You're really sweet, you know that?" 

He went bright red in response. 

And then ducked behind his bangs. 

It took him a little while to speak, but you were patient. 

" … thanks, dude. I'm really glad," he finally murmured. "I spent ages making that tape, but it wasn't until I was gonna give it to you that I realized that. Like. Just hanging out like this wasn't gonna be enough. At all."

Right now, the main emotion your brain was registering was giddiness. 

"I'm really glad, too."

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Yuma Maniac [05]

Monologue

A little while has passed, since we came here to Rotigenberg. 

Even though we were starting to feel a little impatient,

while being kept waiting for a chance to talk to Kino-kun,

we had a clear reason for coming here.

ーー Second-rate Demons. 

We came to realize,

why exactly the Ghouls were given said name.

Despite being non-human, they do not have any kind of special powers. 

These people... They have no other choice,

but to endure this disability on a daily basis.

ー The scene starts in town

Lucks: Sorry for making you come with me.

Yuma: I don’t mind, really. Why did ya need to come to town exactly? 

Lucks: I’ve been put in charge of restocking of our supplies. We’re going to drop by various places to collect everything we need.

Yui: You each get a different task assigned? 

Lucks: Yes. Us Ghouls work together like that to sustain our society. ...We can’t go out in group after all.

Yuma: Aah? What do ya mean?

Lucks: Nevermind...Oh, this is the first store on the list. Let’s go inside. 

ー They enter a store

Shop owner: Welcome, come on in! What are you looking foーー Ah?

Yui: ( ...? His expression suddenly turned stern? )

Shop owner: You...You’re a Ghoul, aren’t you? Ghouls are forbidden from entering this store. Get out!

Yui: ...! No way...!

Lucks: It’s fine, miss. ...I am deeply sorry to cause you discomfort but there’s something I’d like from your store. Please?

Shop owner: I don’t sell my goods to Ghouls. If you won’t willingly go home, then...!

*SPLASH*

Lucks: Ugh...!

Yuma: Oi, bastard! He’s yer customer, isn’t he!? Ya might not be fond of him, but do ya really have to dump water on his head like that!?

Lucks: Yuma, stop! ...I understand. My apologies for the intrusion. 

ー They leave the store again

Yui: Lucks-san, are you alright...?

Lucks: I just got wet. This sort of thing happens all the time, so it’s no big deal.

Yui: All the time...?

Lucks: You can tell by how the people around us react, no? ...They all walk in a big circle around me. 

They’d rather not get too close to a Ghoul born from polluted air.

Yuma: ...Why not!? You’re no different from us two! That’s just plain discrimination!

Lucks: I’m sure you can only say that because you’re a good guy and we’re old friends.

Most people are ignorant and they fear that they themselves might turn into Ghouls as well if they get too close to us.

Yui: Is that possible...?

Lucks: Haha. If so, I wouldn’t be with you two right now. It’s all just a big misunderstanding.

Also...I guess they’re also just using it as an excuse to justify treating us worse than other species. 

Yuma: ...Why the fuck are ya bein’ discriminated against when ya haven’t done anythin’ wrong? That’s hella unfair.

Lucks: Guess so. But that’s what discrimination is all about, isn’t it? You should know that as well, Bear.

Yuma: ...

...I guess in that regard, humans and Demons are really no different. Bullcrap. 

Selection

→ Let’s resolve the misunderstanding (❦)

Yui: Let’s resolve the misunderstanding. This is...just sad.

Lucks: You really are a nice girl. No wonder Yuma chose you.

Yuma: She’s right. They’re gonna do as they please if ya keep quiet. ...Ya should know that as well, right?

→ It can’t be helped 

Yui: ( I guess this sort of thing happens anywhere. I wonder...if there’s nothing which can be done about it? )

Yuma: ...It’s bullcrap, but no way I’m lettin’ it happen. 

Yuma: Lucks, are ya fine with things stayin’ the way they are?

Didn’t ya tell me back then that all humans are equal and have the right to be free? 

I thought it was yer dream to change that rotten country? 

The current situation...is hardly any different from that. Yet you’re just gonna stand there in silence and watch it all happen!? 

Do ya no longer...give a damn...’bout yer ambition from back then...!? 

Yui: Yuma-kun...

( Yuma-kun has been trying to fulfill his dream this whole time. )

( I’m sure that’s because to him, his Boss...Lucks-san was someone he respected and valued more than anyone else. )

( I believe that’s why it so upsetting for him to see Lucks-san get treated poorly... )

Yuma: What’s yer answer, huh...!? 

Lucks: ...Don’t get the wrong idea, Bear. My dream hasn’t changed one bit.

I still believe that everyone should be equal. That’s why...I’ve chosen to side with Kino.

Yuma: ...The fuck? What do yaーー

Kino: Oh? If it isn’t Yuma!

So the two of you came back, huh? Are you sure it’s okay for you to be here? Is Eden doing okay?

Yui: ...! Kino-kun!

Lucks: Kino. You’re back?

Kino: I returned just now. By the way, I heard you wanted to talk to me, Lucks?

Lucks: Ah, about thatーー

Yuma: I’m yer man. Come with me, we need to talk.

Kino: Ehー? I don’t really mind but safe me any trouble, okay? I’m tired, you see. 

Yuma: Don’t worry. It’ll only take a couple of minutes if ya just fess up the truth already.

Kino: Haah...You should mind your language, you know? It makes your poor upbringing very obvious.

Oh well, I guess it isn’t very comfortable talking in the middle of the street like this. Come with me, I’ll show you the way to my house.

Yuma: ...This isn’t part of a plan to get us to familiar territory so ya can strike, right?

Kino: Who knows? I’m not going to force you to come with me but...There’s something you’d like to ask me, right?

Yuma: ...Che. Ya really know how to piss me off. Fine. I’ll come with ya.

Kino: Fufu. Well then, Lucks, you should join us as well. I’ll ask someone else to do the groceries.

ー The scene shifts to the entrance hall at Eden

Ruki: ...

Kou: Ruki-kun. Has Yuma-kun sent us a Familiar...?

Ruki: No. ...Even for Yuma, it is strange for there to be this little communication.

Kou: Then don’t you think that they could be in a situation where it’s impossible for them to contact us? In which case...!

Ruki: ...I suppose we should go look for them after all.

ー Azusa walks up to them

Azusa: Ruki...I went to investigate. It seems like the presence we’ve picked up on as of late are the Adler Clan’s troops after all...

Ruki: Are they close? 

Azusa: Quite, yes...I believe they might be waiting for the right opportunity to strike. 

Ruki: So it’s only a matter of time, huh...? I am worried about those two, but we simply cannot leave Eden right now.

I believe the Castle will be taken down from the second we leave it empty. 

Kou: ...Then what are we going to do!? They could be waiting for our help as we speak!

Ruki: I know. With that in mind...I am trying to think of a solution. 

Azusa: I guess us three just can’t handle it all on our own...

Ruki: Kuh...

Familiar: Ruki-sama, big news! That man...He has come here to Eden!

Ruki: That manーー ...? 

Monologue

Even while Kino-kun was showing us the way,

back to his manor, Yuma-kun and I,

witnessed various instances of Ghouls suffering from discrimination (差別)

Many people would stare at Lucks-san,

giving him nasty (罵り) looks,

even more so than they would at a human like myself. 

And the person who seemed pained by this whole situation,

more than anyone else

was Yuma-kun after all...

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[mansions-maiden]

Hello! I am so happy your requests are open! Could you write for the grumpy bröer, Theo and prompt #19: "we can share, only if I can feed you." Thank you!

Hello dear anon! Hope you're having a wonderful day/night. Sorry it took so much time to complete this. Hope you enjoy this!

Prompt:19. We can share, only if I can feed you

Characters: Theo, gn! MC. (not in relationship)

words: 1.3K

A/n: Cedric is side character in Theo's route. He is Theo's client

The evident discontent in those stormy blue eyes only deepened the delighted grin on your face. An incessant amusement danced in your eyes, which only prompted Theo to deepen his skin prickling glare on his co-worker as if adding fuel to the fire.

His desire only grew more when he looked in your direction, or quite precisely, at the stack of syrup-dipped pancakes in front of you.

But he had to control himself, as he remembered that he had lost the bet to you. He impatiently tapped his fingers against the table, which didn't go unheard by you. Your smile became more sympathetic and less of amusement as you saw his impatience.

You reminisced how you got how you had won the bet.

THE PREVIOUS DAY:

You and Theo were out in the city to select the paintings for his clients. Both picked a painting each to sell to Cedric, your esteemed customer.

You looked at your selection and smiled proudly to yourself. "I'm sure Cedric will choose my painting tomorrow. Theo scoffed beside you and crossed his arms. "No, knabbeltje. He's going to choose MY painting. I know his tastes and likes very well. "

"Oh please, Theo! Just because you are a famous art dealer here doesn't mean that your customers wouldn't like other's selection!" You turned to him with a sigh.

Theo raised a single eyebrow, a look of amusement in his eyes. He ran his fingers through his chestnut hair, his ocean blue eyes focusing on the small figure in front of him.

"The pup is barking against her master now, eh?"

"Speak for yourself, 'master.' "You scoffed exasperatedly.

Theo laughed mirthfully, amusement dripping in his laughter. "If you're so confident in your selection, Why don't we have a challenge?"

Your eyes perked up in interest at his statement. "Whomever's selection is picked by Cedric will be the winner tomorrow. "

You turned to him fully and asked," What will the winner get?"

Theo thought for a while before replying," The winner will get a treat from the loser in the parlour. And the losing one gets nothing to eat." You naturally accepted the challenge.

You were fuelled with a competitive spirit and accepted the challenge. Deep down, you were nervous. You knew this enterprising devil was not famous without any reason. His sharp eye and spot-on guess of others' character gives him a huge advantage over you. He's a prodigy, after all. But it was too late to take back your words by now.

The following day, you both went to Cedric's home with your paintings. You and Theo confidently smirked at each other, both of you willing to win the challenge at any cost. There was a playful tense atmosphere engulfing you both.

You asked Cedric to select a painting between the two that spoke to him the most. Time seemed to flow slowly as Cedric's hand touched his favourite painting. You squeezed your eyes shut, unable to bear the suspense any longer.

You opened your eyes, only to be greeted with a baffled expression on Theo's face. Cedric's hand was atop your painting. Your lips immediately broke into the broadest smile they can form, and your eyes were brimming with the confidence of a person who overcame their greatest difficulty.

You both finished selling the painting to him and came outside. You tapped Theo's shoulder with a grin on your face and chirped, "Well 'Master,' looks like the amateur has won the challenge this time.'

Theo smiled back at you genuinely, his fine features making him look even more boyish and handsome than usual. Your heart skipped a beat at his rare but genuine smile on his lips.

"Well, a deal is a deal. Let's go to the parlour, hondje. Gotta reward you for your hard work and victory. Looks like you're shining under my training."

You both shook your hands and smiled at each other, equally happy and feeling admiration for each other.

Theo took you to the parlour as he promised, and your mind was urging you to avenge Theo harmlessly. You thought of ways to tease Theo, and a brilliant idea popped up in your mind.

You just had to confirm one thing with him. "What was the condition again Theo, the one who lost gets nothing to eat, no?"

Theo nodded in agreement. You both took a seat. You called the waiter and were ready to give your order. But- just to taunt him, you pretended to go through the menu, thinking aloud. "Um- I crave something sweet. How about I order pancakes, Theo-? Oh, and also, I should not forget the syrup."

Theo understood your trick. Yet, he was getting riled up because you were taking full advantage of the challenge in your own way.

"Order whatever you want. And make it quick. I am not going to sit here and wait forever as you nibble on it."

You pouted at him. "I wanted to savour the pancakes slowly as I worked hard. But it looks like I can't…." You looked down at the table.

Theo sighed as he replied, "okay, stop right there. You don't have to guilt-trip me, you know? Do whatever you want."

You smiled at him, knowing that you had won the 'argument.' You ordered pancakes, and of course, the sweet syrup.

At present:

While you were taking your own sweet time enjoying the pancakes, looking at Theo trying to distract himself from his all-time favourite snack made you feel a bit guilty. You thought you had your share of fun, but you thought a little bit more of it wouldn't hurt anyone.

You looked at Theo and said, "Theo, I can't eat at peace while you are sitting there both patiently and impatiently at the same time somehow. So shall I propose an Idea?"

Theo leaned forward in his chair, a hint of curiosity shining in his eyes. "We can share the pancake, equally between us. But-" you gave a pause, looking at Theo in the eye. "But, what? Continue it, hondje."

You cleared your throat, preparing yourself for what you were about to say. "But- we can share, but only if I can feed you. "

Theo was taken aback by your proposal. He looked between you and the stack of pancakes, looking thoughtful. You were waiting for his decision. He looked hesitant, but he gave in to the temptation and accepted it. You laughed at him, amused by the way the tables had turned.

You cut into the pancakes and held your fork to his mouth, waiting for him to eat it. He nibbled at them, all the while looking away from you. The littlest hints of blush on his cheeks made you flustered as well, suddenly wondering how you look like to the other people. You looked at the glass window beside you, reflecting both of you. You looked like a couple, and suddenly, you felt butterflies in your stomach.

All of your confidence melted right there, just like the butter on the pancakes. You were about you retract your hand back, but Theo caught it gently before you could do it. He smiled at you and asked, "Are you taking back your deal? Will you leave me hungry? " You slowly shook your head, and Theo ate the remaining piece on the fork and grinned at you. "Eat fast. I also want to have my share of pancakes, as you said."

You realised it suddenly and nodded, quickly finishing up the remaining part of the pancake. Theo took the remaining half and ate it, still having a smug look on his face.

That entire evening, you were distracted, your thoughts filled with Theo and the failed challenge, which you thought would win by riling him up.

Hope you enjoyed reading it!

[badgirlcovenrep]

The Goddess' Blessing (of a daughter)

Chapter Two

Here it is... hope you enjoy

After Tiffany is in warm pajamas and her hair is nicely brushed, they head to the living room to meet Edwin, who is sat at the couch watching some kind of civilian sport that features a stick. Scylla never took interest in televised sports - that was not really part of witch culture - but she thinks it's sweet, how enralled he is when they come out. She remembers Raelle telling her once that she used to watch games with her dad.

Scylla can almost see her sitting there beside him, in her civilian clothes, snacking on nachos and discussing what was happening on screen. It made her heart tug painfully. Once again she considered if coming here was a good idea at all. Seemed like everywhere she looked, she could just see Raelle, and even if she'd seen the other girl just a day before, here, inside her childhood home, it did nothing to how much Scylla missed her - and how she wished Raelle could be here, with them. Warm and peaceful and free.

"Hey, dinner's still in the oven." Edwin informs, once he sees the pair of witches have joined him, but still, he rises from the couch and crosses the living room towards the kitchen "I got some boxes of Rae's toys when she was a kid down from the attic earlier, and I thought you'd like to take a look, Tiffany."

The small witch was still unsure about her new surroundings, and Scylla gently directs her to join the man in the kitchen, where he had settled two sizeable cardboard boxes over the tiled floor, filled to the brim with random toys that went from surprisingly well kept barbie dolls to matchbox hotwheels and loose pieces of lego.

"Wow, Mr. Collar, you didn't have to." Scylla assures, as Tiffany puts her doubts aside for a minute to peek curiously into the box.

"Of course I did, it's not like these were going to use all the way up in the attic."

"Well, you're very kind. What do we say, Tiffany?" Scylla coaxes the younger girl, as she's started sorting curiously through the barbies. The necro is happy to see she seemed to be feeling safer.

"Thank you, Mr. Collar." Tiffany smiles up at him.

"You, little one, can call me Edwin if you like, and same goes for you, Scylla." He declares, and Scylla can't help the affection that settles inside her chest.

Jonas was right. She really *was* going soft. But the witch is not so sure she minds it that much anymore.

"Alright... Edwin." She nods.

"Good." The man smiles, leaning down to take the box Tiffany hadn't yet looked through, "let's take these to the living room so you can play near the fireplace. It's getting cold."

****

Edwin sits back down on the couch a while later, and Scylla helps Tiffany sort through Raelle's surprisingly big collection of beanie babies. The young witch is fascinated with them, and she's lining them up in a circle with plastic cuttlery for each, getting them ready for a tea party as Scylla watches sleepily from the couch, when suddenly the phone rings.

Edwin gets up to answer. They can hear from the living room when he picks up, but aside from that, the conversation is nothing but muffled sounds. Scylla could listen in if she wanted, farspeech is not that hard, and she can surely manage to hone in on a conversation that is happening just at the end of the hall.

But Edwin is kind to them, and she's trying to be a better person, even if she can't push away the curiosity - the thought - that maybe it's Raelle. And how much she wishes to hear her voice.

She knows it isn't right though, so Scylla decides not to peek. They deserve their privacy- not without some internal protesting, she turns her attention back to where Tiffany still played with her new (to her) toys.

"Oh, no! You spilled your tea, mister giraffe!" She exclaims, knocking the yellow giraffe plushie against it's pink teacup until it topples over the carpet, "I can't give you more tea right now, sir, the other babies haven't gotten any, you'll have to sit down and wait. Yes, I'll make you more tea in just a minute." Tiffany grabs the equally pink teapot and turns to the stuffed hippopotamus, tskng annoyedly with a roll of her eyes "some clients are so impatient, mrs. hippo."

Scylla smiles fondly, settling down into the soft cushions of the couch and resigning herself to watching the game absentmindedly. Just then, Edwin peeks his head from the hallway.

"It's Raelle." He says, and Scylla's heart jumps at hearing her name, "she wants to talk to you."

The necro would've been embarrassed at how fast she gets up, but her mind is one tracked at this point, and she can barely hold herself back from running down the hall to where the phone sat by the back door.

Edwin had settled it speaker up on top of the phone box as to not hang up, and when Scylla finally comes face to face with the device, she can't help but stop - just for a minute - in hesitation. What they had lived a year ago was so fiery and fast paced. Scylla felt as if it enveloped her whole before she could even see the surface. Like canon-balling into the deep ocean when you can't swim.

Now, whatever they had- it felt tentative and unsure. Like walking across tight rope blind-folded. It was new, and she didn't deal very well with change.

Even then, as the witch picked up the phone with a shaking hand and settled it into her ear, beside her shaking nerves - it became quite obvious to her. Anyway Raelle wanted to be in her life, Scylla would never be able to deny it.

"Hey." She says, finally, and from the other side, a soft sigh comes.

"Hi." Raelle sounds tired, and Scylla wants to ask why, but the fixer continues before she has the chance, "I'm glad you both made it safe. Dad seems excited that you're there."

"Yeah. Your dad's been very nice." Scylla chuckles, resting the palm of her hand against the wall to suppress the heady, dizzying feeling in her lungs. Like she's just now taken a breath for the first time since hearing her voice in the clearing.

"He even brought down some toys from the attic. I hope you don't mind" The necro chooses to say, looking for anything that could distract her from the feeling and help keep herself upright "you didn't tell me you had like, a hundred beanie babies."

"Oh, Goddess." Raelle moans in mock embarrassment, but Scylla can hear the smile in her voice, and she can't help but smile too, "I- hm- I forgot they were in there. I asked him to bring them down for her once you guys got there."

"They're cute." Scylla replies simply, "Tiffany loves them. Thank you."

"Well- she can have them. They don't really have use in the attic." Raelle says, and they stop for a second of amused silence before the blonde speaks again, "what's her favorite?"

"I don't know. Honestly all I know is that the giraffe is a really bad customer." Scylla replies, chuckling lightly at the previous interaction she'd watched.

"Oh, yeah, he has always been an asshole." Raelle laughs, and Scylla joins her, for a second they sit there in little fits of giggles. It's refreshing and so very light. The necro thinks maybe she shouldn't have been worried after all.

Whatever they had before, it was absolutely incredible - it took Scylla's breath away to even think about it - but this? This was all of that wrapped in warm, soft silk. This was different, and honest, and it filled her with butterflies that threatened to flutter out of her throat with each tug along the rope that tied them together so very tight. She wished, more than anything, that Raelle was there, in the dark hallway of her childhood home with her.

"Thank you." Scylla hears herself say before she can truly think about it, as she leans down to rest her forehead lightly against the cold wall to settle her aching heart, "for believing me. For helping me."

Raelle clears her throat on the other line and sighs before she speaks again. For a second Scylla thinks she might have burst the glass bubble that extended around them, but then-

"I never got the chance with my mom but I- I get to have that with you. I guess I can't help but want to try." Raelle decides. She sounds so soft, Scylla's heart strings tug once again, and she's left at a loss for words. Somewhere in the kitchen, the oven timer rings, but Scylla is barely aware of it.

"I guess I also did save your life. Twice now." She speaks out, after a few minutes of silence. On the other line, Raelle chuckles, and Scylla can't help the pride that settles over her for having caused that.

"Yeah. Guess you did."

"Scylla! Dinner!" Tiffany calls out from the kitchen, and it startles Scylla a little out of the stupor that settled over her body as he lifts her head towards the rest of the house.

"I should let you guys eat." Raelle decides, sighing as if she doesn't want to hang up just as much as Scylla hoped they could be physically together. For a second, she lets herself believe that to be the case.

" I- thank you, for calling."

"Yeah... thank you for- hm- being there when I did."

Scylla's heart tugs against her ribcage once again, and she can hear Raelle's soft breathing on the other side. The witch feels as if she could stay there all night, given the opportunity, but Tiffany is annoying Edwin with a thousand questions about the game he'd been watching (she finally finds out it's hockey) and Scylla figures she should go save their host from being questioned to death. Besides, she is quite hungry.

"Good night, Raelle." She says, finally. "Try to sleep, okay? You sound like you could pass out any moment."

"I will." The fixer assures, simply "G'night, Scyl."

****

The next morning, Edwin very graciously lends her his truck and offers to watch Tiffany while she goes to meet with the Dodgers. He doesn't ask many questions, but Scylla still offers quite a bit of information. She understands how frustrating it must be to be left in the dark, and for once she doesn't feel the need to be as secretive as she'd been before.

The place they send her to is out of the city, away from the bright lights and military patrols. She takes back roads that almost seem to lead to nowhere a couple of times, before they cut into the horizon to reveal more sprawling landscape. Protective magic, she realizes, and the only real reason she hadn't been led away by confusion was probably because she was expected.

Scylla remembers staying at the farms before, when she was very young.

It'd be a good place to grow up, she thinks. A place where Tiffany could be away from all those things that so very desperately wanted to trap her for her voice.

She remembers harvesting berries when she lived here, squeezing them into her mother's basket as she smiled fondly back. It was a good memory. All the ones here were.

Before her, the fields come into view, a variety of different fruits and vegetables, tended by people of all ages, in simple but well kept clothes. Beyond them, the pastures, where fat brown cows chewed lazily at the grass, and even beyond that an orchid of fragrant trees that Scylla knew bore a multitude of fruits, all spring and summer, from juicy plums to red, big apples.

She passes it all to reach the gates, wooden and simple, but still flanked by two imposing towers from where respective guards peered down, one on each tower.

"State your business." The one on the right demands, once Scylla has rolled down her windows to the frigid winter air outside.

"I'm here to see Velma." She says, pulling down her sunglasses.

They give her only a nod in response, and the gates open so that Scylla can drive down the winding road up to the main house. It's an old, opulent mansion, built somewhere along the Victorian era. Over the years, the community had surrounded it by other buildings and houses alike, some looking newer and others, older and dustier, but all sturdy and charming, with flower boxes and wood panelling over the windows.

People and children walk to and from them, carrying various objects and chatting along their companions calmly. It feels peaceful here, and Scylla can't help but observe their languid movement as she parks the truck by some other trailers. It's definitely different from what she remembers, bigger and yet eerily emptier.

Scylla shakes her head to clear away the thoughts, sure there are a million explanations as to why there wouldn't be many people out here when it's still 7A.M. and so cold her fingertips threaten to freeze under her gloves. She gets out of the car, adjusting her coat and nodding slightly to a pair of older witches walking by before starting her way up the familiar path to the main house.

Velma Bjelke had come from Sweden along with her parents years before she was born. They had fled the great European witch war in the late 80's. All three had never been in favor of conscription, but given the way things were going in the old continent, Scylla guessed it was worth the shot to move all the way here. She wonders if they ever regretted it. But it was never something she thought to ask before they died.

When she was younger, Velma used to be around all the time. She was her mom's best friend, with whom she shared the knack for necromancy. Velma taught Scylla her very first seeds, and she acted like a second mom to her throughout the years they were together.

Eventually Velma had settled herself at the farms, where they all lived for a few years, and when Scylla left along with her parents, Velma chose to stay behind. She never quite knew why they left, and it was another thing she'd probably never get the chance to ask.

It should be around ten years since they last saw each other, and Scylla couldn't say she didn't feel apprehensive as she went up the stairs. But as soon as her feet were planted on the porch, the big oak doors swung open and there stood Velma, looking older than Scylla remembered her but still just as recognizable as she'd always been with her curly red hair, big glasses and flowy dress.

"Sweet girl." She sighed out, "I have missed you so much"

"Hi, aunt Velma." Scylla smiles, just as the older witch takes a step forward and pulls the youngest witch into a long, tight hug, "I missed you too."

I gave Scylla another mother figure and this one ain't dying

This fic is mostly gonna be fluff but it's also gonna have some plot around the Camarilla and the Dodgers that's gonna be put in C3, which is coming tomorrow or the day after

Hope you enjoyed, and feedback is always appreciated 🥰

[forlove2020]

Day 2 - No Vacancy

It is the last day of November and no one wants to buy any more pumpkins. 

Halloween has gone by, and Thanksgiving has blown past too. The people of Lebanon, Kansas have had their fill of the bright orange gourds - for more than two months they've displayed them on their front porches, carved them into jack-o-lanterns, and added them into every kind of dessert and frothy little drink imaginable.

And that is why, on November 30th, Dean decides his family is going on a field trip to the Lebanon Corn Maze and Pumpkin Patch.

Things have been good lately. No, scratch that. Life has been freakin' awesome. It has been just under two weeks since he rescued Cas from the Empty and a week since Jack came home. Dean is over the moon; radiating happiness in a way he never has before. They're all together, alive, and no Big Bad hovers menacingly on the horizon. Dean's not one to believe in a 'best case scenario,' but hell if this doesn't feel just like it.

The farm is about a twenty-five minute drive from the Bunker, and Dean, Cas, and Jack pull up in the Impala at the same time as Sam and Eileen arrive in Sam's CR-V. 

(Dean had teased him mercilessly about his new ride until Sam looked him dead in the eye, placing his hand protectively on Eileen's protruding belly, and insisted "Honda gets really good safety ratings, Dean." Dean, wisely, had shut up after that.)

Claire and Kaia are already there waiting, leaning up against Claire’s car, hand in hand. Jack leaps out of Baby as soon as Dean puts her in park, barreling toward the girls so he can nag Claire about his latest obsession: TikTok. Even from a distance it’s clear she’s rolling her eyes at him, but smiling despite herself

Dean and Cas get out of the car at a more leisurely pace and survey their surroundings.

What had been a busy festival complete with a lush corn maze, vibrant pumpkin patch, and stalls selling kettle corn and caramel apples two months ago is now a dismal scene. The corn maze has dried out and shriveled up, and the stalls are unmanned. Technically, there are still pumpkins aplenty in the field, but they're the ones that have been forsaken. The remaining pumpkins are leftovers that were considered either too skinny, too fat, or just too misshapen and lumpy to have been picked as the cream-of-the-crop.

Dean looks over at Cas. He’s squinting at the scenery in the dim autumn sunlight, and the nippy breeze has swept through his dark hair, making it seem more tousled than usual. Not for the first time, Dean thinks that he is gorgeous.

But now, he can actually tell Cas what he is feeling in these moments. There are no more half-truths or lies between them, nothing secret. After years of pining for one another without any hope of reciprocation and hiding the pains of longing, they’ve finally broken down the walls that kept them apart. They love one another fiercely, and while their relationship is new, it is not tenuous. 

So, Dean turns to him with a crooked grin.  “Hey, handsome.”

Cas blinks, and then a little smile curls the corners of his mouth. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean moves closer until their shoulders are brushing and he can feel the warmth of Cas’ body through both of their jackets. “You think Jack’s gonna be disappointed?” he asks quietly, watching their kid practically tackle Sam with a hug as Eileen signs something Dean can’t quite make out from the other end of the parking lot. “I mean, this isn’t exactly the ‘autumn glory’ we were promised on those fliers earlier this month.”

Cas doesn’t even hesitate. “No. I think Jack just appreciates having a normal...uh, sort of a normal life again. He’s excited to be here picking pumpkins, especially with Claire and Kaia, and Sam and Eileen joining us. This was a nice surprise you planned for him, Dean.”

It’s a simple compliment, and not even particularly saccharine, but Dean flushes from head to toe anyway. He’s working on believing the good things Cas says about him; he’s really trying, but it’s always been difficult for him to take a compliment about anything other than his good looks or hunting prowess. Instead, he meets Cas’ eye, and nods silently. And then, remembering he is allowed, takes Cas’ hand in his own, twining their fingers together.

They walk hand-in-hand to join Claire, Kaia, Jack, Sam and Eileen at the front gate. It’s hanging wide open, and no one is standing there to charge them an entrance fee. However, the sign does make a point to state that the maze is open until December 1st. Eileen shrugs, and so the seven of them wander down the path towards the pumpkin patch and the entrance to the maze. 

“Kaia! I’ll race you to the end!” Jack shouts, and laughing, Kaia chases him into the maze, dragging a grumbling Claire along behind her. 

“Let’s see if we can find anybody still working,” Sam suggests.

Eileen points at a worn down farmhouse tucked mostly behind a newly-painted red barn. “Someone must be home,” she signs pointedly, gesturing to plumes of smoke exuding from a grey chimney stack.

Dean ends up knocking on the door. He leaves Sam, Eileen, and Cas at a nearby picnic table, debating in Sign Language about the best flavor of cotton candy and whether or not the color of the dye changes the taste. 

 A minute or two later, an older man swings open the squeaky screen door to the house. He’s scowling, wearing muddy overalls, and chewing on a thick cigar. “Yeah?” he asks shortly. “Whaddya want?”

Dean raises his eyebrows at the farmer’s bluntness, but manages to respond politely. “My family and I saw fliers for this place a few weeks ago. We were hoping to buy some pumpkins and candy apples. What are you charging”

The farmer’s scowl grows deeper, and he looks past Dean to Sam, Eileen, and Cas relaxing on the bench, then narrows his eyes at the corn maze, where shrieks of laughter can be heard as the younger adults chase one another through the thinning stalks.

Getting impatient, with the man’s surly silence, Dean prods, “And…? It’s a yes or no question. Are you still selling pumpkins?”

The old man pulls the cigar out from between his teeth. “My wife and daughter run this hokey shit,” he grunts. “They went into town today ‘cause folks already came through here earlier in the month. They like customers. We haven't had anybody else stop by since before Thanksgiving.”

As his temper flares, Dean turns his grit teeth into a sharp smile. “Well, then it’s your lucky day! Here we are,” he says mockingly, sweeping his arms wide. The farmer mumbles something insulting and covers it with a hacking cough. Dean pretends not to hear him, “Fine. I take it from your sunny attitude that there will be no popcorn or apples today?” 

The man scoffs, “Enjoy the maze, boy-o. Free of charge.” He turns to lumber back inside, but Dean grabs the screen door before he can try to disappear.

“Hey!” the hunter barks. The farmer pauses, his body tensing for a fight. “Are you gonna sell me the goddamn pumpkins or not?” 

Cas has wandered to his side, either noticing the commotion, or simply because he wanted to be closer to Dean. Now, he interrupts casually, “You still have quite a few squash left in the fields and there’s going to be heavy frost two days from now, overnight. It’d be a shame if all of these pumpkins rotted, and you wasted the rest of your harvest.”

He has, quite deftly, snared the salty old farmer’s attention. Money is the man’s language; he might not enjoy having customers on his property so late in the season, but he certainly likes having the funds to maintain his land.

****************************************

“A hundred.”

“A hundred?” Sam sounds insulted. “You’re gonna pitch all of these in a couple days. There’s no way we’re paying a hundred. Try twenty-five dollars.”

The farmer rolls his eyes dramatically. He is in his element; the thrill of making a good deal and bartering his wares on the last day is an unexpected but welcome surprise that has put him in high spirits. “You’re cute, kid. I know my produce is worth more than that. I’ll go down to eighty-five, and you can take whatever you can carry in one trip.”

“Thirty-five,” Sam shoots back.

“Eighty.”

“Forty-one.” Once, Sam was going to be a lawyer. He’s got the upper hand in this situation and he’s going to crush his opposition. One more price reduction and they’ll have dozens of pumpkins to take home, way below the original asking price.

“Sevent…”

“Sixty-five, and we fill up all of our cars,” Dean interrupts, and Sam looks at him, utterly betrayed as the gleeful farmer shakes on the deal.

As Cas, Jack, Claire, and Kaia help carry the pumpkins to Sam and Claire’s cars respectively, Dean just claps Sam on the shoulder and tells his brother, “It’s still a cheaper family outing than going to Disney.” 

“Yeah, I guess,” Sam says mournfully, and sulks over to help Eileen, who is supervising the influx of pumpkins that are being loaded into their vehicle.

Dean chuckles, and scoops up a few pumpkins. He’s got some recipes he wants to try out, plus he’s excited to teach Jack to carve ‘Jack’-o-lanterns. The kid seemed to want to learn how to do everything the human way now, and Dean is more than happy to teach him.

One by one, Dean places eight pumpkins in the backseat of Baby. One is tall and oblong with lots of stringy stems, matched with the only short and well rounded pumpkin he sees in the field. Between those two he sets a teeny tiny baby-sized pumpkin. Then, there’s a pumpkin that is half-green half-orange. It seems like it must have grown too fast because it is still quite young despite its size. Next, he adds two medium pumpkins that are also young, but growing strong. And last but not least, he picks up two more pumpkins. They are both a bit damaged - one is bruised and discolored, the other looks like it might have grown sideways. But Dean picks them because they lean against one another in the field, steady despite their flaws, despite what they’ve been through. 

He sets them all up in a long line along the backseat, and when Cas sees what he chose, his eyes go soft and warm as he looks at Dean.

“Let’s go home,” he breathes out, and takes Dean’s hand again.

Everyone gets in their cars - Dean in the driver's seat and Cas taking shotgun, as before. Jack tries to get in the Impala, then looks in the back window, and starts laughing. 

“Dean! There’s nowhere for me to sit.”

Cas chuckles quietly beside him, as Dean grins. “Aw, tough break, kid. Guess you’re walking home.”

“Hey, no fair- Dean! C’mon! Cas! Tell Dean he has to -”

Dean starts to roll up the window, laughing loudly as Jack knocks on the window pane.

“Sorry! No vacancy!” he hollers. Jack is nearly doubled over, hilarity spilling from him in peals of laughter.

Claire honks her horn loudly, and throws open the back door to her car. Jack straightens, and scrambles to join her and Kaia, shooting Dean and Cas a bright wave goodbye.

Sam and Eileen also wave as they leave the parking lot, wheels sending gravel spinning in their wake. Claire and Kaia follow, and Jack rolls down the window as they pass, and calls across to Cas and Dean, “This was the best family trip ever!”

They too are soon gone, headed for the Bunker to drop off dozens of pumpkins which will decorate every room until they end up decaying or until Dean cooks them. 

Dean and Cas wait until the others have left, and then Dean leans over and kisses Cas, long and sweet. When he pulls back, Cas traces his cheek, and says thoughtfully, “We could take the backroads home today….”

Dean is so gone on him. He kisses Cas once, twice more, and then puts the Impala in drive, and they’re on the road, taking the long way home.

**********************************

I enjoyed adding a little Day 1 ‘Harvest’ flare to Day 2!

My goal is to make most of my Suptober fics one-shots that are in some way related to my multichapter fix-it that is still a work in progress (Dean/Cas, Sam/Eileen, etc, post 15x20).

Thank you for reading!

-V

[ericsonclan]

A Relaxing Moment

Summary: Brody and Mitch spend some time together and end up falling asleep on the couch.

Word Count: 764

Notes: Inspired by some hcs @apocalypsebi added in the tags when reblogging our Moody hcs post

Read on AO3:

Brody felt completely exhausted. That shift at Ericson’s Diner had completely drained her. With the impatient couple that kept yelling for her to hurry up and that one customer who kept picking at his food and complaining, Brody was at her limit. Luckily, she didn’t have to worry about any of that anymore. Instead, she could focus on this moment, laying on the couch, her head resting in Mitch’s lap as his fingers caressed her hair. A small hum left Brody’s lips as her boyfriend began to fiddle with her hair. Slowly he ran his fingers through it, too distracted by the episode of Adventure Time playing on the TV to realize what he was doing. He always enjoyed playing with Brody’s hair, he found it centering for some reason and Brody held that same feeling from receiving the gesture. It was nice and relaxing, so much so that Brody was starting to drift off.

“Shitty day?” Mitch asked as he watched Brody brush her thumb against the top of his free hand.

“Mmm, something like that. Not too bad, just a bit frustrating,” she murmured and let a yawn escape her lips. “What about you? Did you have a good day?”

Mitch nodded. “Yeah, Willy and I got to go to an arcade we used to go to growing up. I bumped into Violet on the way there and dragged her ass over with us. She kept grumbling about how she had plans for her free day but we just wanted to play a few rounds on that shitty rundown Mortal Kombat machine.” Mitch leaned further back into the couch. “She ended up kicking my ass and talking shit, but I’ll win next time,” Mitch’s lips held a proud smirk.

“Sounds like a fun day,” Brody yawned and tried her best to keep her eyes open.

“You can sleep if you want. I don’t mind,” Mitch offered but Brody shook her head and sat up for a minute. “No, my sleep schedule has been off.”

“Feeling anxious about something?” Mitch looked over with concern.

Brody shrugged. “I guess, but that’s nothing new. Can’t figure out what’s making me so antsy though which is starting to get on my nerves.” She gave another sharp yawn then glanced over at her boyfriend; his eyes had softened with worry. “Baby, I’m fine.”

“Okay,” Mitch mumbled, a small frown appearing on his lips. A second passed between the couple before he broke the silence. “Y’know, if you want, Brodes, you can stay at my place any night you want.”

Immediately Brody’s face flushed as she whispered a faint “oh” which made Mitch grow flustered in response.

“You don’t gotta if you don’t wanna,”

“No, that’s- It’s just-” Brody was trying to find her words. “Okay.”

Mitch’s eyes widened at that before a smile pulled on his lips. The type of smile that made Brody’s heart flutter as she got lost in how cute it was.

“Cool, it’ll be your first sleepover at my place,” Mitch pulled Brody into a hug and let her lean against him. Brody’s soft laughter quickly tickled his ear.

“Okay, we can paint each other’s nails and do each other’s hair. How’re your braiding skills?”

Mitch grew silent for a beat. “I braid like a fucking badass!” He declared proudly but Brody could always see through his fake bravado.

“Okay, we’ll put that to the test then,” Brody saw him tense up. “Calm down, Mitch, it’s not a big deal.” She pulled back to look at her boyfriend.

“I’m getting better,” Mitch grumbled, his mood souring slightly.

“I know. Hey, it’s okay.” Brody slowly brushed her hand up and down Mitch’s arm. “Come on, let’s finish up the episode,”

“Oh shit! I forgot!” Mitch’s gaze snapped up to the TV. Both of them had seen the show all the way through multiple times but Mitch still liked to pay attention when they watched. He was about to offer up his lap again to his girlfriend but before he had a chance he heard a soft pat and looked over.

“Your turn,” Brody smiled softly and watched as Mitch rested his head in her lap. With a leisureliness to it, Brody started to play with Mitch’s hair, her fingers sliding through it and gently stroking it. The comforting sensation made Mitch grow sleepy immediately. He had barely even registered that he was exhausted before he fell deep asleep. Brody smiled when she saw her boyfriend peacefully sleeping. After a deep, slow breath she felt herself fall into the warm embrace of sleep as well.

[retrievablememories]

the second time around | jaehyun

title: the second time around pairing: jaehyun x reader genre: fluff, some angst request: “Hi! Here’s a suggestion for a story or add-on to another story you wrote. I really liked moonlight w/ jaehyun! Could you do a follow up with him not seeing her for awhile and him (and her secretly) being pissed about it but wants to reconnect with her but outside of being a customer. Ty and keep up the good work with your writing.” word count: 2.9k warnings: a couple mentions of sex a/n: hmm...the sequel to moonlight...sequels are scary to write but here we are lol. this could’ve been posted last sunday really but i’ve been stalling oof

Despite getting Jaehyun’s number after that night at the strip club, you’ve seen and heard a lot less of him than you’d like. On his end, Jaehyun isn’t so pleased about losing touch either, but you wouldn’t know that with the lack of communication.

Both of you are ultimately busy with your own lives, and it’s not like he can just drop in whenever he wants to visit you. Not just because he’s busy, but also because of where you work. The men keep their visits to the club on a once-a-month basis for a reason—to avoid tipping off any stalkers who’d find out and leak their whereabouts.

You’ve texted each other a few times since your first meeting, and you enjoyed the conversations you got to have within that timespan, but the time between responses kept getting longer—on both of your ends—until things eventually dropped off.

You were unhappy about this, though you tried not to be so obvious about it to the other girls. Getting attached to customers was not a good look. Even if they were handsome and nice and had good dick.

However, Anya was the first to notice your slightly sour mood despite your best efforts to project an unphased demeanor. And, being her usual nosy self, she managed to pry it out of you before you could even think about denying it.

“Don’t stress about it,” she’d told you on the night you finally spilled the beans. She’d wrapped her arms around your shoulders and tipped your chin up, making you hold your head up higher and look at yourself in the mirror reflection facing you. “There will be many more men where he came from. And if you don’t wanna deal with any more men right now, that’s fine too. He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on, anyway.”

“I’m not stressing over it,” you’d argued, sighing. “We don’t stress over men who aren’t boyfriends, remember?”

Anya grinned then, though you could tell it was the kind of smile you give when a friend is doing something they shouldn’t be—or indulging in something they think is good for them when it’s not. “Duh. But you might wanna start following your own advice if you’re gonna be dishing it out!” And then she’d gone off to do her own thing, probably to finish getting ready for her set later that night or to go bother one of her favorite bartenders.

You’d looked at yourself in the mirror more closely, frowning at the truthfulness of her statement and wishing you had not been quite so easy to read. You’d had a show right after that, which allowed you to take your mind off the mess for at least a few hours. But in the small moments when you weren’t thinking about work or school or anything else you had to do, Jaehyun crept back into your mind like a specter, wanting you to acknowledge him even though you weren’t getting the same.

When you head out to the parking lot after a particularly long night, you slow your steps when you see a man leaning against his car, his cap pulled over his eyes and his head low. In any other scenario, you probably would’ve alerted one of the bouncers, thinking he was some creep waiting until after your stage to try to corner you in a shady area. However, you hold off on calling anybody because you can clearly recognize him even if he thinks he’s being inconspicuous—it’s Jaehyun.

He lifts his head when he hears your shoes on the ground, and his lips turn up into something of a smile.

“If you wanted another dance, you’re a bit late. We just closed,” you say jokingly, raising an eyebrow at him. Jaehyun shakes his head.

“Tempting idea, but that’s not what I came here for.” He turns to face you fully now, observing you in your casual, after-work clothes. In the back of your mind, you realize this is the first time he’s seen you outside the context of performing. Then he sighs. “It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you.”

“I know.” Your familiar irritation rises again. Sure, maybe him coming to see you or you going to see him more often isn’t feasible. A text or a call, though...would be decidedly less effort, and not difficult to do. You’re not sure whether to be more irritated with him or yourself about not trying to reach out again, though you decide to aim your annoyance at him just because you can.

Jaehyun nods to your agreement. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been fine,” you say. “Work is...work. It has its ups and downs. How are you? Busy with the idol life?”

Jaehyun sighs. “Yeah...it just gets…stressful sometimes.” He bites his lip and shakes his head, seeming bothered about whatever’s going on with his job but not wanting to say much more about it.

“I’m sure,” you respond, and you don’t really know what to say afterwards. It’s been a while since either of you talked, and it’s strangely hard to try to pick up where you left off as if nothing happened. Jaehyun realizes this, too, and appears distressed at not knowing how to keep the conversation going with you—and possibly wasting your time.

You nod to yourself and shift on your feet. “Well, the Uber will probably be here soon, so—”

“I don’t know what things will look like between us, but I don’t want us to fall out of contact again,” Jaehyun blurts out, then winces. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just...don’t want either of us to leave before we...sort this out, I guess.”

You think to yourself, wondering if this is really worth trying to pursue. You’ve yet to deal with a man with the level of fame that Jaehyun has, yet with such a strict image to keep, which makes things exponentially more complicated. But despite your apprehension, you still want to know where this could lead. After a moment, you say, “Well, if you’re willing...I’d like the same.”

Jaehyun nods and stands up a little straighter, like that response just gave him the energy he needed. “Do you wanna….go somewhere? Just to like, hang out.” His proposition is abrupt, and you didn’t expect it. 

“Now?” You check your phone, and it’s 18 minutes past 2 a.m. There aren’t too many places that will still be open at this hour, other than establishments similar to your line of work, but you aren’t in the mood for any more of that tonight. Your driver, too, is only a few minutes away, but you already find yourself with your finger hovering over the Cancel button. “We could.”

Jaehyun goes around to the passenger side of the car and opens the door for you. You get into his car, noting its sleek interior. Once he gets in, he asks you what you want to hear, and you notice he’s looking through his Spotify. You shrug.

“I don’t know. Show me something you like,” you say. You cringe at sounding so disinterested, which makes you realize you might just be a little more upset about being ghosted than you thought you were. You almost want to curse at how this dude is taking you off your usual game. “I mean, I like hearing new music anyway, so…”

Jaehyun starts the car and grins slightly. “Alright, then let me show you the best of the best…” You both end up listening and vibing to a playlist he’s made, which is good. Not that you didn’t expect it to be, but you end up liking most of the songs he shows you, which usually doesn’t happen with other people’s playlists.

Jaehyun ends up taking you to an ice cream place that’s still open this late, to your surprise. The sitting area inside the store is closed, though they’ve kept the drive-thru open for late-night travelers like yourselves who want a quick treat. You don’t question it, though; you definitely won’t pass up a chance for some ice cream.

You end up eating the ice cream while sitting in his car and listening to the rest of his playlist. Neither of you say much other than commenting on the songs or talking about your favorite ice cream flavors or making other non-committal small talk. You kind of prefer it this way, at least for the moment—just listening to the music and watching the headlights and taillights of cars that pass by.

You and Jaehyun ride around the city for a while longer after finishing the ice cream, not intending to go anywhere in particular but just coasting on the highways. It might be an excuse to keep listening to this new playlist he’s put on, or maybe more reason to pretend that awkward period between you never happened. Acknowledging it in a way, but not speaking any life into it. 

Eventually, though, it has to arise back to the surface. Jaehyun taps his fingers against the steering wheel at a red light, like he’s impatient to get somewhere, and you wonder what he’s feeling until he comes out and says,

“I think it was...ultimately my fault for not contacting you more. Or not trying to stay in contact.”

The words hang in the air for a moment. “Well, I won’t argue with that,” you finally respond.

“It’s just hard to get close to anyone and be an idol at the same time. Sometimes I sabotage myself when I shouldn’t, and…” He trails off, though you don’t know whether he’s searching for the words or has decided to leave his sentence at that.

“You’d rather not be embarrassed by dating a stripper, or something along those lines?” Your tone is nonchalant, though you’re a little bothered by saying it. He wouldn’t be the first or the last person to feel some type of way about your job, though you’ve mostly gotten used to the judgment at this point.

Jaehyun seems a bit startled by the statement. “If you like doing it, then I don’t care what you do. You should live your life however you want to.”

“I see,” you say slowly. “Most men I meet outside of the club are not receptive to it, so you ain’t gotta lie if you feel some other way about it, seriously...”

“I’m serious,” he insists. “You told me that day that you liked it, and I believed you. I just think...we should all be able to do things we enjoy without worrying about what others think of it.”

Jaehyun turns to look at you for a moment, and his features are lit up by the street light as it turns green. His face, which is simultaneously painted with shadows and glowing with light, appears to be just as genuine as he sounds. Or maybe this late-night atmosphere just has you feeling more receptive and sentimental than usual. Then he broaches the next subject carefully, steering you back to where the conversation began. “You didn’t text me anymore, either.”

“I figured you’d moved on or something, maybe started talking to someone else…” you reply. “And, you know, if that was the case...so be it. There wouldn’t be a point to chasing someone who wasn’t interested anymore.”

“I am interested.” Jaehyun rushes the words out, like he’s eager to dispel the uncertainty before you get the wrong idea; not that that hasn’t already happened, but still. It isn’t too late to change your mind. “I want to like, know you as a person...not just while being a customer at the club, or something like that.”

You nod, looking at your hands and considering his words. “We can do that...yeah, we can.” Then you hold your hand out to him, a grin playing on your lips. “Nice to meet you, then. I’m Y/N.”

He smiles too, and takes your hand in one of his. “I’m Jaehyun.”

The conversation after that seems to reach a turning point, like somehow you’ve broken the ice and can finally talk to each other on a deeper level without worrying about the issue that���s been lingering over your heads all night. You think you could talk to him like this for hours if you wanted to, if there was enough time in the world for it. 

Unfortunately, though, you don’t have as much time as you’d like, and once it starts edging on 4 AM, you both decide it’s probably best to call it a night. Jaehyun takes you back to your apartment after you tell him where it is.

He parks in front of the apartment complex, and you’re prepared to thank him for the night and get out, but he insists on walking you up to your apartment—something about it being too dangerous for women to walk alone at night.

“It’s not that far.” You laugh, but you aren’t going to argue about it if it means getting a few more moments with him.

Jaehyun follows you up the steps after you both get out of the car. You walk a little slower to prolong the moment, but eventually you have to get up to your apartment door. You also take your time with taking your keys out of your bag and putting them in the lock. And maybe you’re not as slick as you thought, because Jaehyun notices. He laughs quietly behind you, but the sound isn’t low enough to escape your hearing.

You turn around to look at him, your hand on the doorknob. “Well, I guess that’s it. Thanks for the ride...and for the ice cream, you know.”

He nods, and one of his dimples pokes out. “You didn’t have to entertain me tonight, but I’m glad you did...so, thanks.”

Both of you linger in your doorway for a few more moments. Jaehyun wants to come in, and you know it, but you also know he probably won’t say it because he technically shouldn’t. His members are expecting him back at the dorm. He doesn’t want to impose, and he didn’t even bring any extra clothes. But you know he wants to come in, and you want it, too.

You tilt your head to the side. “Would it be bad if I asked you to stay?” you say tentatively.

A slow smile spreads on his face. “No, it wouldn’t.”

You open the door wider so he can step inside and take his shoes off at the entrance. You lead him to your living room by the hand. “What do you wanna do?” you ask, looking at him imploringly. You want to be sure you’re both on the same page concerning your intentions.

“Whatever you wanna do,” he echoes, holding your hand a bit tighter. You expect to see lust or some similar desire in his expression and had already figured you might end up having sex again tonight, but his eyes expect nothing from you. He only smiles in the dim light of your apartment and waits for you to make the next move.

You laugh, and it comes out as an airy chuckle. “Well, then...I want to lay down. It’s been a long day.” From your tone, Jaehyun understands that you really just want to lie down and not think about much of anything else right now. He follows you when you lead him into your bedroom and sits patiently on your bed while you go to the bathroom to change into your night clothes. You’re thankful you already took a shower at the club, because you’re not sure you’d have the energy to do all that now.

He’s taken his jeans off when you come back into the room, though he still keeps his shirt on. You get onto the bed and lean over him, hooking your finger into the collar of his shirt, and he looks up at you. “You can take this off if you want, I don’t care.”

“Is this you saying you want to see me shirtless?” He grins, though he readily takes the invitation and pulls his shirt off, placing it to the side along with his pants.

You shake your head good-naturedly, a smile on your face. “I promise it’s innocent…but the view never hurts.”

You peel the sheets back and you both climb underneath them, lying across from each other and looking at each other like you want to say something more but aren’t sure what. There isn’t much light in the room except for the street lights coming from your bedroom window, muted slightly by the blinds.

Jaehyun laughs suddenly, breaking the silence, and you do the same. You’re not sure why either of you are laughing, but you do so anyway, simply enjoying the moment for what it is. After your laughter dies down, he takes your hand from where it’s resting on the pillow and slips his pinky around yours. “I’ll try not to lose you this time.”

You lean a little closer to his face so you can plant a kiss on his lips—just a short and soft touch. He tastes like ice cream, and somehow you know there will be many more kisses like this in the future. “You better not.”

[unwishablestars]

amongst the waiting stars

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x f!reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 3.8k

Tags: Mutual Pining, SFW, Drunk Confessions, i tried my best

TWs: Mentions of alcohol intake

Summary: When Levi’s visits get more and more frequent how long until he’d have to admit he didn’t come for the coffee

A/N: this is the first fic I actually finished/properly wrote and I actually dont hate it, hopefully y’all don’t too :)

Wiping off the spilled coffee, restocking the pastries and cakes, it was a calm day for you and your co-workers. You felt a cool autumn breeze enter the room as you hear the door open and were greeted with a rather short man with a bored expression.

"Hello! Welcome to xxx, how may I help you?"

Greeting back with a simple hello, he proceeds to scan the pastries inside the case before he walks up to the counter to order tea and brownies.

With that slight intimidating atmosphere you found around him you didn't expect him to have such a sweet and simple order, emphasis on sweet, he didn't seem the type to order something as sweet as a brownie. Though, that being said, he did order a tea that was rather bitter.

"Can I have your name?" Holding the cup with a pen in hand.

"Levi"

"Alright thank you, Levi. Would you like your brownie reheated?" Asking with a soft and friendly smile "Yes, please."

After asking him to sit down you start to prepare his tea and brownie, approaching him with a black tray in your hand and his food on top of it.

"Please enjoy, Levi!" Setting the tray down and flashing him a little smile before leaving him be.

And that was it, you thought this was as close as you strangers could get.

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

A week to 4 days to 3, he started coming by regularly. Nothing special really, he wasn't the only regular, but you sure as hell didn't expect to be able to talk to him as if you've been friends for ages.

You've memorized the way he likes his tea, you know he has a sweet tooth that he wouldn't admit he has and you know that type of coffee he likes when he needs to get through a lecture.

Every 3 days became 2 then daily, he was back again. You didn't know why but it seemed to excite you to see a familiar face, his familiar face, what didn't make sense was why him? Why was he so special?

Was it the way he openly admired your focused and quick work attitude, the way he would pleasantly chat to you about his life outside this café or those sweet little banters you two have when he enters and leaves the store.

For a man that didn't smile much, he sure was a treasure to have around.

Often enough for you to notice though, he always seemed to sit alone. Asking about it, he's never really responded with anything other than a:

"I'm waiting for someone."

You've never seen this someone. A friend perhaps? A date? Whoever it may be, they seem pretty rude to never show up even once.

Leaning on your arms over the counter to ask him "Waiting again?" Levi started sitting closer and closer to the counter just to make your conversations easier.

A slight pause was present before his answer "Yeah." "Is it the same someone as last time?" Thinking for a moment, "No, it's a different friend."

"Not that is any of my business, but it seems pretty rude for your friends to just never show up like this. You could wait for an hour or so and still not be pissed, gotta say that's pretty admirable."

"It's not a big deal. I mean, I'm stuck here waiting with you aren't I? It's not so bad."

He's right, I guess it wouldn't be so bad if you waited with him too.

"How smooth, Prince Charming." Despite your snarky remark you can't deny, it was nice hear that you made his wait bearable for him.

To the untrained eye, someone could see him as a stoic and quiet man, maybe even intimidating. But with trust and patience, he was sweet and compassionate, it could make your heart melt.

Taking as sip from his tea, presumably ignoring your little banter, you could've sworn you saw the softest smile accompanied with a little blush.

I wouldn't mind waiting with you.

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

Nearing the end of the year, a cool breeze can now be present everywhere. Malls, stores and homes turning on their heaters to help with the growing cold.

Leaving his building wearing a stylish grey coat, already on his way to his personal sanctuary, his thoughts were interrupted with a loud and high:

"LEEEEVIIII"

Turning around he was met with a very much energetic Hange Zoe, stopping in his tracks to see what they have to say. "On your way already? Excited to see your sweetheart?" They said, smirking with a deeper intent than to tease.

Levi's friends were more attentive than he had thought, it didn't take a while for them to realize that he'd been leaving the campus in a slight rush. It also didn't take them long to start guessing what else he could possibly have better to do other than sit in the library or go home immediately.

"She's not my sweetheart." He absolutely wishes though, liar. With Hange and his friends bombarding him with questions like "What's she like?" "Is she pretty?" "Are you going to make the 1st move?" It left butterflies in his stomach. The thought of a confession made his stomach twirl, even if it didn't show on his face.

He often thinks about when that perfect opportunity would arise or even if something like that exists, he'd love to win your heart over and have you in his arms. The thought of you spending your days together, official, made his heart swell, yours too. But how could he possibly ask you out? Who the hell was he to you?

"Right, of course she's not.." Hange responding quickly, stretching out the 'right' to emphasis her suspicion. "Then in that case, you should invite your 'friend' to our little gathering before we leave!" They said with a smug yet genuinely joyful expression on their face, nudging his arm to the suggestion.

"Why would I want to do that?" Levi said plainly. His friends had decided to eat out and drink together at a spot not too far from the campus.

This way they could somewhat spend their holidays together before they actually have to leave for the holidays to see their families. Including Levi, who had planned to spend it with his mother (and uncle).

"Aww c'mon, don't be like that! One of you have got to make a move sooner or later. Plus, wouldn't it be sweet for her to know that you'd been thinking about her?" They argue, thinking about it, he decides to comply.

Already walking off "Fine. Just don't follow me." "Aw but I wanna see her!" "Too bad." They follow him anyway "I'll just wait outside then! Then I'll leave once I know you've asked her!"

Clicking his tongue in agreement, they both head their way to the little café he was ever so familiar with.

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

It was a busier day than usual. Though, it's to be expected due to the cold weather. It just makes people want to sit down and drink their coffee or hot cocoa, warming up their systems.

As you give the last customer in line their coffee, you hear the door open. Looking up to welcome them in, seeing who it was, a brighter smile was presented, almost as if it was an instinct.

Walking up to the counter Levi was understandably nervous, he even considered bailing on the idea now that he's here. But seeing your bright excited smile as he entered the door kept him in motion.

"Levi! Having a nice evening?" A tug at the corner of his lips made your heart pound, "Yeah." Cutting his answer short, his mind too busy to think on how he should pop the question.

"What is today?" "My usual coffee, take out, please." Nodding and grabbing a cup, you start making his usual. Looking back at Hange, they gesture him to stop stalling. You catch him looking out the door to see a tall individual with glasses.

"Is that the friend you've been waiting for all these days?" Your smile lightly calming down "O-oh no.. they're actually.." stopping himself in his tracks, air getting caught in his throat.

"I actually wanted to ask you something." "Oh? What is it?" Your attention shifting to him. "My friend.. And I wanted to ask you- if you'd like to join us for a gathering we're having. W-we'll be eating out together before we leave for the holidays." Not knowing where his eyes should look, he didn't look up until he finished his question.

Seeing your face, visibly shocked but not displeased, a bit flushed. Your eyes soften at that thought, he wanted you to come with? To spend time with you? You couldn't hold back your soft and sweet smile at his offer, what would be the point? Hiding your joy would be pointless.

Taking a look at your face, your initial reaction to the soft look you gave him. He was growing confident, maybe this wouldn't end up blowing up in his face and ruining his relationship with you.

Until your facial expression showed a bit of annoyance, a customer had fallen in line behind Levi with her kid. While the kid seemed rather patient, taking a look at the cakes in the display the mother look impatient and annoyed. "Uh- I'm sorry, Levi. Could you stand over there for a moment" gesturing to the end of the counter "I'll get your coffee ready in a minute."

With that, worry immediately washed over him. Did he say something wrong? Was he too straightforward? Did he mess up? He does as you ask and step aside, too occupied with his thoughts to realize that small flash of annoyance was in no way meant for him.

After dealing with the lady and her daughter, you walk over to Levi, his freshly made cup of coffee. "Sorry about that.. here, your coffee." Seeing his worried expression you give him a reassuring smile, your hand lingering on his as you hand him his coffee.

"Thank you so much for the invitation, Levi. That's very sweet of you." Your face showed a light flush. "It's a really busy day so- don't throw away the cardboard cup sleeve, I don't want to stop this here.." still a small bit stuck in his thoughts, he replies, "A-alright.. Thanks." Giving him another reassuring smile he heads his way to the door meeting up with the friend still outside.

"Looked like it went well!" Hange said joyfully as Levi left the café. "I don't know.. maybe it wasn't the best day to ask her, she seemed occupied." He doubtfully thought, "Huh? She seemed pleased! What are you talking about? Plus, she wrote something on your cup didn't she?" They noted in a curious tone, pointing at his cup.

Catching his attention, he takes a look at his cup and they were right, there was something written on the cup sleeve:

"I'd love to ♡ text me the details!"

was written in black marker followed by your number.

A visible yet faint blush was spread across Levi's face. He hadn't mess up, you don't hate him, you wanted to spend time with him. "Aha! See! Isn't this great?" Hange said enthusiastically, interrupting Levi's train of thought.

"..Yeah"

I'd love to♡

Yeah, this is great.

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

Standing outside by the entrance of your building you stood there waiting for Levi. Having talked about it beforehand you both had decided he would just pick you up and walk with you to a small KBBQ place, just a few minutes away from the campus.

Levi wasn't the biggest fan of smelling smoke as he ate but compared to the rest of the 'cook-it-yourself' places around, this place had better ventilation, a cleaner surrounding and a decent price.

[6:03pm] Levi: Just stay by the entrance inside your building. I'm almost there.

Y/n: Alright! :)

[6:04pm] Levi: Be safe.

He's so sweet.

The weather was nice this evening. It was calm, and the wind wasn't unbearably cold, it was nice. Seeing a familiar figure across the street turning the corner, you face showed excitement as Levi lightly waved seeing you by the door.

Exiting your building you meet with Levi outside the doors, greeting him with a smile "Lead the way!" softly smiling back at you he starts to walk, making sure you're close to him. "It's not far, stay close.. okay?"

Matching his pace to stay close to him, you walk together in tranquility, engaging in peaceful conversations, asking about how they'll spend their break. It all felt natural, makes you wish that KBBQ place wasn't just 20 minutes away.

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

Nearing the restaurant you see the silhouette of a tall, blonde man standing by the entrance. As both of you walk up to him, he greets you with a friendly smile and wave.

"Hello, you must be Y/n, right? I'm Erwin, It's nice to finally meet you." He greets to which to you reply "It's nice to meet you too!" he must be one of Levi's friends who would join us- stopping your thoughts you think back to what he said:

"..nice to finally meet you."

Finally? Has Levi been talking about you? You felt a light blush at the thought, thinking about me?  It was nice to think that he'd be thinking about you, after all, you'd been thinking of him too.

"Follow me, we already have a table." Walking inside gesturing for both of you to join, Erwin leads you to a reserved table. Seated at the table were 4 people, one of which you've seen outside the café, the day Levi invited you to eat out with his friends.

As you approach the table you were quickly greeted with hello's and nice to meet you's. Sitting down next to next to the familiar face, they introduced themselves.

"It's nice to see you again! I'm Hange!" "Oh yeah, you were standing outside the café that day, why didn't you come in?" you asked out of curiosity, "Oh I promised Levi I'd wait for him outside while he asked you out!" They gladly explained, lowering their volume to just about a whisper to continue "Y'know.. I was the one who suggested to invite you, Levi can be quite a shy one." They smirked which followed a chuckle.

Looking over at Levi to see some sort of confirmation. All you saw cute pink blush that ran across his face, him looking forward to either avoid eye contact or pretend like he didn't hear, either way, it was adorable.

"Anyway, it's nice to meet you! I'm Nanaba, this is Miche and that's Moblit." Nanaba had introduced going down the line.

"It's nice to meet you all." you simply said, "though.. I can't help but notice, it doesn't seem like you guys extended the invitation to anyone else. Why extend it to me?" as much as you enjoyed sitting here with Levi and his friends you couldn't help but wonder why, couldn't help but want to know it straight, said to your face.

"Because we want to get to know you." Levi admittedly explains, though he feels he wants to get to know you more than anyone else here. His friends nodding in agreement, some smirking at both yours and Levi's oblivious interactions.

Clinking your glasses filled with alcohol the night went on filled with laughter and nonsense. You kept your alcohol intake low knowing you'd obviously still need to go home and you'd rather go home walking than slumping on some poor person's shoulder.

As minutes to hours pass by, sharing stories that brought out laughter which rang around the room. Soon enough it was nearing midnight and some of you were a bit tipsy, some more than others, though you kept yourself your little promise of not going home a blackout drunk.

You weren't drunk but you were tipsy enough to be not be embarrassed if you were to spill some truth about your feelings. After the bill was paid, stuff gathered, and as they walk their way to the door Hange proposes an idea to Levi.

"Y'knowww.. Y/n would really appreciate it if you walked her home.. can't let anything happen to her ya'know.." Clicking his tongue at the smell of alcohol in their breath "What? Did you think I was just gonna let her walk home alone? It's almost 11."

Miche budges in abruptly "Is that why you barely drank?" clearly to tease the man. Overhearing the conversation without really thinking you cling onto his arm "I'm not that tipsy.. but I'd love the company.." a light pink was present across your cheeks, you couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or the blatant confession.

"Even if you were completely sober, I'd still walk you home." He'd love to.

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

There were lots of stars out, nice view. The cool breeze, the bright moon, it was all so beautiful. "When are you gonna leave..?" Catching his attention, "Hm?" "to visit your mom?" you weren't exactly sure why you wanted to know, he did say he was coming back, maybe you just didn't want the night to end yet.

"Tomorrow. I'll be leaving in the morning, why?" he asked back, "Nothing.. just curious." Looking up you see the moon in that navy blue sky, it gave you an idea. Walking into your building you were still gripping his arm, not as tight as when you were out on the street but you didn't exactly plan on letting go just yet.

"Do you mind staying for a bit?" Embarrassed to ask but you did anyway. Taken aback "What? Why? Are you not feeling well?" he asks with a flustered and concerned tone. "No it's not.. you don't have to- I just.." you could feel the alcohol help you speak the truth "..wanna spend more time with you."

It felt like his brain stopped for a moment, did she just..?, but in reality it was racing with thoughts to the point where he didn't even notice. Scared of his silence you ditch the idea just as quick as you proposed it, practically interrupting yourself. "Sorry- sorry, I didn't mean to be- I didn't mean it like that-" apologies and explanations start to leave your mouth all at the same time.

"No, it's alright. I-I know what you meant.. I don't mind." holding back his stutters fairly well the blush spreading towards his ears were as evident as ever. "What? Really?" thank god he didn't take it the wrong way, "Tch," avoiding eye contact and walking toward the elevators "you want my company or not?" "Very much.."

On your way up to your room there was a sense of familiarity and comfort, even though the signs of success were there, you weren't exactly sure what you were so nervous about. Maybe you were sobering up quicker than you thought, it's not all bad though.. You didn't exactly want him to just deal with you drunk, you didn't want him to see you that way.

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

Taking out your keys, opening the door and letting both of you in, you turn on the light and offer him a drink as you open your fridge "Sit down, do you want anything to drink?" "How the hell would I know what's in your fridge?" He says dryly

"Heh- that's fair, hot cocoa then?" Giving a simple nod at your offer you take out two mugs and start to warm up some milk. "Sorry it's just hot cocoa mix and milk." You apologize for no apparent reason other than to avoid the awkward silence.

"That's fine, how do you think I make my hot cocoa?" he asks sarcastically, "with fresh cocoa beans fresh from the tree" you retort jokingly, laughing a little. Surprisingly, he giggles along, making your heart flutter.

Looking at the clock as you pour the milk into the powder, 11:27pm, you interrupt the silence once again with an apology "Sorry.. I know you have you leave in the morning.." you remind yourself as you add a few marshmallows to your cups, walking up to him to give him his drink, "Why do you keep apologizing? I meant it when I said I wanted to be here." He reminds you as he takes the cup out of your hands, unable to hold back a smile the tension on your shoulders loosen, relaxing at his remark.

"If it doesn't bother you.." grabbing the blankets off the couch and opening the window "the nights beautiful.. and the view is better on the roof.." seeing the confusion on his face, you explain in a simple manner "don't worry, it'll be quick and the roof's actually pretty clean. Stargazing on the roof is actually pretty calming."

Trusting your rather odd offer you set your mugs on the counter next to the window to easily step out onto the fire escape. Once both of you had exited you grab both your mugs through the window and head up the steps leading to the roof

"Y'know I didn't expect having to climb out a window today." "Honestly I didn't expect to be stargazing with you, but it's not so bad is it?" "No, no it's not."

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

Reaching the roof you set 1 of the blankets down to avoid sitting directly on the roof.

Sitting down you pat the spot next to you asking him to sit down, doing as you request, he settles beside you holding onto his hot cocoa for warmth "The second blanket is for us, no secret that it's gonna get chilly." You explained, casually wrapping it around both of you, what a bold move.

You smile at him, showing fulfillment and joy. The smiled you both see around each other always show honesty, such a simple gesture can convey so much. Now under the moonlight, snuggled together close, his heart couldn't handle how lovely it felt. You could've sworn you saw his eye water a little, that or the light of the moon glistened brighter than usual.

Looking up at the stars, admiring their light and formations, sipping on your warm drink, the air in your lungs start to lock up. Exhaling a breath you didn't know you were keeping in, the comfortable silence was broken with emotions put into words.

"Other than a ball of fire a huge distance away, do you think they can be anything else?"

"I don't know." he answered with simplicity and honesty.

"You ever wonder how long the stars have been here?"

"Not really, I don't look up at the sky that often. But I'm sure they've been here for a while."

Say it.

"I'd happily wait a billion years to see you."

Taken by surprise, he swings his head to take a look at you.

"..whether it be coming to the café, picking me up, coming home from a trip or seeing you in another life. I'll be here, waiting for you to come home. You wouldn't ever have to second guess it, because I'll be here, loving every second of it."

Looking up at him, to pour your heart out. "Because every second of it, I'll be loving you."

Letting out a shaky breath, holding you closer, softly yet firmly holding onto your hand, letting out the simple truth.

"That and so much more is the reason why I can say: I love you too."

[arieswonjin]

my go-to (barista/cafe au)

pairings: goo jungmo x reader

genre: fluff, enemies(?) to lovers if you squint

summary: dealing with customers has never been your favorite part of being a barista. especially customers like goo jungmo. and now you have to train him to become one? that’s just great. 

word count: 3.2k

warnings: none

song inspo: 커피를 마시고 coffee - reprise

masterlist | request here! | how to request |

"sir, may i ask if you’re going to order or not? you can step aside first if-"

"wait, wait. how different is the iced latte from the iced caramel latte?" says the man while still looking up at the menu overhead, lips parted, eyes squinted, and hands on the side of his neck, mid-scratch. you tapped the cash register impatiently and took note of how his sharp jaw moved as he scrutinized the menu. was it possible to hate someone at first sight? he was only your first customer of the day yet your blood was already boiling. either finals season was getting to you or this guy had a knack for testing your patience.

you walked to your part-time job every day at the break of dawn just in time for you to see most of the commercial establishments opening. people were going about their own mornings preferring to be undisturbed, you included. earphones in, you savored the few peaceful moments you had to yourself before the chaos of a morning shift.

more often than not, your shifts were totally and utterly uninteresting: you would be prepping ingredients to be used for the rest of the day and office employees or the occasional student running late for a 7 am class would be walking in and out to get their morning fix. there was also a bunch of cleaning left for you. the night-shift employee was simply not thorough enough to distinguish which mop to use for the spills. to this, you did your first of many eye-rolls for the day.

that being said, you weren’t exactly the most patient among your colleagues; however, the laid-back atmosphere this friendly neighborhood cafe had when it was not teeming with customers around the early afternoon almost made you forget about your subtle hatred for human interaction.

but today, as you started your shift at 6 am in the morning with your eyes barely open and a man who has been standing in front of you for more than three minutes, you remembered just why.

"well, sir, obviously, the caramel latte...has caramel." you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at the stupid question, whispering the better part of your sentence to mask your tone. but as they all say, the customer is always right. what a nonsensical saying.

"give me a second. i’ll just call a friend to ask what to order here.”

to your distaste, the older male leisurely took his phone out from his brown coat and scrolled through his contacts like he had all the time in the world. oh, if he could only hear your inner thoughts.

“wait-” he flashed you a friendly smile while fumbling with the gadget. “hey, serim-hyung-"

the man flinched, almost too dramatically, when you placed both your palms on the counter with just the right amount of force to shake its contents. he expected to see you fuming but instead saw the softest expression on your face which, frankly, was scarier.

"one caramel latte, hot, with an extra shot of espresso and a pump of dark chocolate for?"

"goo jungmo." he replied, suddenly alert, phone still pressed to his ear. the dull sounds of a confused friend on the other line now went unnoticed.

"...goo jeonmo. coming right up," you punched in the order while holding a fake smile that started to hurt your cheeks and exhaled a breath you didn't know you’ve been holding. breathe, y/n, this will be a fine morning. he’ll be out of here in just a few minutes.

“it's actually goo jung-"

"5,000 won, please." you extended your palm to him without making eye-contact.

jungmo just stared at your hand for a few seconds, still dazed with your outburst. could that even be considered an outburst? how strange. "oh. here." and it just started to sink in that you practically made his order for him.

"hey, i didn't ask for a-" he leaned in to take a peek at the monitor, ready to protest against the sudden turn of events. all he wanted was to get a new kind of morning coffee at this new place before walking to the university, yet it seemed like the way you two met was enough to shake the morning drowsiness out of the both of you.

"it's good. it’s my go-to. consider it a secret special," you said nonchalantly and turned the monitor away from him. you handed him the receipt and gestured him towards the claiming counter. "next customer, please."

jungmo slowly slid to the side as he placed his hands inside his pockets. he just shook his head, trying to wipe away the amused smile he now unconsciously had on his face while thinking about the humor in this encounter.

“oh shoot. sorry, hyung. did i wake you? my bad... but i guess you have to get up now, huh?” he laughed mischievously, getting back to the phone call left unattended a few moments ago. “oh, it was nothing! i’ll tell you about it later. it’s funny, really.”  

with a quick glance at your nameplate, he started to think about what other interesting encounters would take place in this cafe in the following mornings. maybe he just found his new pre-class route.

the rest of the week was uneventful to say the least. your encounter with the unrealistically good-looking yet annoyingly slow customer was now far forgotten. as per usual, university kept you busy outside of work.

you’ve always thought your part-time job jived well with your college degree. after all, there’s nothing like the scent and taste of coffee to keep a pre-med student awake in front of their brick-like pathophysiology books. all those extra shots of espresso and doses of dark chocolate are enough to keep your eyes open and your mind running for countless all-nighters.

and that was exactly what you were planning to do tonight. clad in your most comfortable sweater which replaced your coffee-stained apron, a cold drink in hand, you made your way to the haneul university library.

seoul started and ended its day just like any other famous metropolis. jungmo observed this everyday as his feet took him to where he needed to be like it's second nature. but that one wednesday when he broke his routine and entered a new side-street cafe, his morning became unlike any other stroll to the university and he was sure to go back.

for two very unexpected reasons.

first, because he was surprisingly offered a part-time job (a funny coincidence. who would’ve thought the cafe owner was his father’s high school bandmate?) and second, well, because he found himself craving your go-to drink. that genius mix really got to him. and to think that he didn’t even order it himself.

he pondered dropping by the cafe before his first day of barista training tomorrow as he stood up to exit the university library. jungmo just spent most of the evening finishing a 10-page world history paper, his last agenda for the day.

“agh… my back hurts.��� he stretched before grabbing his jacket and the last of his things from the study table.

“y/n? the book you were looking for was just returned here,”

jungmo involuntarily snapped his head towards the front desk, reacting to the name called out by the resident librarian. he scratched his neck in confusion as he looked for the source of the voice.

“ah, thank you. i’ll take this,”

so it’s really that y/n from the cafe? he followed you with his eyes as you walked back to the library table that you were occupying alone. jungmo, his mouth frozen in a small ‘o’ at yet another coincidence, might just have a change of evening plans. haneul university was truly full of surprises. and good ones.

“long night?”

you abruptly looked up from the stack of notes you were studying intently, unable to properly respond to jungmo’s small talk. nonetheless, the look of recognition on your face was enough to urge him to continue.

“one caramel latte, with an extra shot of espresso and a pump dark chocolate for y/n. but you seem to be having it iced now?” he looked over at the drink on top of your desk, trying to use his wide smile to start a conversation. it’s how people almost always immediately warmed up to the charming and childlike goo jungmo. he silently hoped you were not an exception, even if he straight up just mocked your lines.

“you study here?” you asked when you recovered from the sudden greeting, if you could even call it that.

“well, obviously, i do.” jungmo mocked you again, all in good fun. he successfully replicated the tone you used with him during your not-so-pleasant cafe encounter.

you sighed in defeat. you really did feel sorry for the way you acted. it was a good thing you still even had your job. “i’m sorry for how i acted that morning. i guess it was the stress getting to me. jeonmo, right?”

“goo jungmo, actually.” he laughed, finally succeeding in correcting the mistaken name at which you just facepalmed in embarrassment. “no worries. i was really slow, wasn’t i?” he scratched the back of his head, a tinge of realization crossing his facial expression. you nodded with pursed lips.

“but hey, at least i got three good things out of that morning in bt cafe.” he casually sat on the chair next to you and pulled up three fingers, counting down while he spoke. “the drink was good, and i got a new job there, and...”

“wait, you’re the new recruit i have to teach?! you know i have to work nights now, right?”

maybe it was the way he sat down beside you so comfortably or how adorably foolish he looked with that habitual scratch to the neck, but holding a casual conversation with this jungmo wasn’t hard at all. the first impressions my 6 am-self created are really unreliable.

“you make it sound so sketchy. it’s a cafe job, not some underground cult.”

you rolled your eyes at his joke and scoffed, internally thanking the heavens for his humor that’s making this sudden interaction so light-hearted. he waved the previous statement off and continued. “turns out bt cafe stands for boys in trouble, my father’s band back in high school.”

“your father is mr. kim’s bandmate?! he talks endlessly about his band phase!”

“shhh!” both of you bowed to the librarian who was peering at you through the shelves on your far-left.

“best bandmate, mind you. it’s the reason why i picked up some guitar skills growing up.” jungmo gets immersed in your now-hushed conversation, making himself lean back on the library chair despite not having any work to do. you did the same, unconsciously leaning in to hear more about your boss.

your pending tasks were left undone for the meantime and you and jungmo were subjected to about three more glares from the librarian that night.

night 1: bt cafe

the training starts.

“coffee beans. they all look the same.” now wearing an apron identical to the one you had, jungmo stood in front of the cafe pantry trying to decipher the coffee beans you’ve been introducing to him without their respective labels.  

“that’s what amateurs always say,” you teased. from the previous night, you already established how fun it was to see his reactions to even the smallest attempts to irritate him. it was a good thing trainings took place in the early evenings when you actually had the energy for a bit of fun.

“well, i am an amateur. that’s why you’re teaching me, sunbae.” jungmo jabbed back and followed you around the main counter, hands clasped together as he tried to act like a cute and enthusiastic junior.

you pretended to cringe and broke in laughter when he whined. “back to the coffee beans…”

night 7: bt cafe

within a week, jungmo got the hang of working the bulky and stubborn espresso machine. he has yet to produce a perfectly good batch without burning himself, though.

“i’m surprised you even have the time for a part-time job, pre-med.”

“i could say the same to you, mr. pilot. don’t you have plane diagrams to memorize--ow! that’s hot!” you retreated from the hot cup he was handing to you.

“shit, did I burn you?” jungmo instinctively took your hand and started to look for any redness and swelling, turning your hand over in his. “where does it hurt?”

“.....i’m okay.” you looked up at the much taller male and slowly slid away, finding the sudden proximity quite foreign.

“a baristas hands are precious. let me get a cold towel,”

you followed his retreating figure with your eyes, noting how easily he blended in with the rest of the cafe, apron and all. with a shake of your head and a repressed smile, you might have just thought about calling him cute.

night 10: bt cafe

“....then, after that you just let the coffee drip by itself for about 15-20 minutes- yah.”

“hmm?” jungmo straightened up from having his head on his palm, elbows against the counter. “sorry. you kinda looked...cute...when you were focused.” he said softly without making eye-contact as he mimicked the coffee drip set-up you just made. he realized that it was a weird feeling, suddenly being timid like this.

“tch. focus.” you turned your back to place some ingredients back on their shelves, taking this opportunity to smile and recollect yourself before going back to watching jungmo’s progress.

night 14: university grounds

"you really don't have to bring me these to track your progress..." you saw jungmo waiting outside the biology laboratory for the third time this week, thermos clutched in hand. a few days ago, he insisted on buying his own coffee drip set to get some practice at home. talk about being thoughtfully extra.

"i mean, yeah, we're together every night but you have to see how i do it on my own!"

"shh! people will take that out of context, idiot!" you looked around at the waves of people piling out of the laboratory, worried someone might overhear. jungmo just teased you by wiggling his eyebrows, earning him a smack to the shoulder.

night 20: bt cafe

“yes, y/n, to what do i owe this pleasure of a phone call from you?” jungmo answered his phone after several rings. you were beginning to worry that he got into an accident. why was he so late to his training tonight?

“where are you?”

“i might not come tonight. important presentation tomorrow and we might have to pull an all-nighter. don’t worry! i already told our boss. wait, you’re actually looking for me.”

“i mean, you’ve been coming every night so…”

“y/n misses me.” you almost hear his teasing face through the phone lines. jungmo heard your eyes roll in turn.

“uhm, no, thank you. i’m hanging up.” you put your phone back inside your pocket only to retrieve it after a few seconds when you received a message notification.

don’t worry! i miss you too!

night 30: haneul university library

“agh. how am i ever going to save lives like this?” the sound of resignation in your voice made jungmo look up from his laptop. aside from the regular trainings, you and jungmo have arranged regular study sessions. it’s safe to say that you’ve been spending a good fraction of your week with your fellow haneul student, workmate, and, as it now seems, a special friend.

“you’re keeping me alive just fine, though, doc.” jungmo walked over to your side of the library table and ruffled your hair while your face was still buried in your textbooks. his previous statement went unnoticed. “you should go home early tonight. i’ll take you.” he pulled you up by the arm, shaking you to encourage you to stand up as you grunted.

“thanks, mogu.” 

he just nodded at you with a smile and held out his arm to drape around you while you walked. “let’s go.”

night 40: university garden

“hey, you never told me about the third thing.” you sat on the garden bench, stopping jungmo’s strides and pulling him to sit too.

"hmm?"

“the third good thing you got from that day at the cafe. you got a good drink, got a job and….?” you urged him to continue, expecting the answer to be something trivial. after all, it was something he told you on the first day you properly met. would he even remember what the third thing was?

“that? the third thing is that..." jungmo took his time and pretended to fix his jacket, intentionally stalling until you glared at him.

"....i met you.” the casual tone in his voice and the giggle that accompanied it made it seem like it was something he said everyday.

"liars go to hell. and you're full of cheese."

"but you love cheese." he shrugged. knowing you couldn’t deny this, jungmo stood up and pulled you by the hand, ready to walk you home like what the both of you have gotten used to.

night 50: bt cafe

“so you sold your coffee drip set to wonjin because…?” you were fixing up the last of today’s orders with jungmo waiting beside you to place them on their cup holders.

“i don’t need to make coffee for myself anymore. you speed up my heart just fine throughout the day now.” he secured the cups and held them out to the waiting customer. “come again!”

“goo jungmo.” you turned bright red and hid your embarrassment by slapping jungmo’s arm. “don’t fool around like that.”

“ey. i just confessed, can’t you be a little more accommodating?” jungmo ran to the door and flipped the cafe sign from open to closed. “should i have written it in latte art or something? i like you. would 8 letters fit in that tiny cup?”

“you call that a confession?” this earned the iconic whine from goo jungmo. "hey, idiot!" you called to him from across the empty cafe and scratched your neck like he always did, for effect. "i like you, too."

night 77: bt cafe

“shift’s over. what are you doing?” you leaned on the counter to take a peek at what jungmo was doing. there were no customers anymore so you were wondering what was keeping him so busy.

“one caramel latte, iced, with-“

“—an extra shot of espresso and a pump of dark chocolate...” you continued his sentence, nodding your head in time with the words.

“...for my y/n,” jungmo finished and handed you a cup with both hands. you took it with a playful squint of your eyes. 

you took a sip, keeping your eyes on the expectant jungmo. a moment of silence ensued.

“jungmo. i love you….but-”

“i love you too.” he hurriedly replied without hesitation.

“…but i still make the best version of this.” you smiled victoriously, sticking your tongue out at him before drinking the rest of the latte which you admitted tasted pretty close to your specialty. jungmo just raised his hands up in defeat and proceeded to watch you drink his version of the go-to drink that brought you two together in the first place.

“if i get to see you smile like that, do i really want to get it right?”

[marshmallow-phd]

Heart of Thorns

Genre: Beauty and the Beast!AU, Romace, Angst

Paring: Tao x Reader

Inspired by: These moodboards created by @xui-n-soowillbethedeathofme (x) (x) and my absolute obsession with Beauty and the Beast

Summary: Lost in a forest during a storm, you find shelter in a crumbling castle that had been hidden away for years. The master of the house shut himself away, refusing to engage with the world. Too intrigued and running away from your own fears, you refuse to leave no matter how much he tells you to, wanting to try and find the heart within the beast.

Part One I Part Two I Part Three

**

Everyone knew the story of the man in the forest mansion. He’d once been the son of a prominent and just lord. The people of the land praised the lord’s name as he was always fair and practiced justice amongst all his subjects. It was a month of mourning when he passed away from sickness, but there were high hopes for his son to carry on his legacy. And at first, all was well.

But something happened that changed his heart.

A woman appeared; beautiful, alluring, and sweet. She captured his heart and they say he adored her, showering her in gifts of gold, jewels, and fine cloth. No one knows what happened for sure, only that the lord’s son went mad. There was a fire and the woman died. Most say that he started it with the intent of killing her.  

Soon after, the son turned out all the servants and secluded himself from the rest of the world. Whispers popped up that the woman he killed was a fairy or a nymph and for killing her he was cursed. Some say that he was now a beast, sporting fangs and claws where his human teeth and fingers once were. Others say he was now a creature of the night and stalked the forest when the moon is high for wandering prey.

No had seen the son or the castle where he supposedly lived in years. The excuse that the grandmothers gave was that the forest had grown too thick from the trees and vines for the castle to be found. Since the son had turned out all the servants and land workers after the fire and there was no one to keep the paths clear.

You didn’t believe a word of it. A man with fangs and claws hiding up in a castle to terrorize anyone who came too close was utter nonsense; a fairytale to scare the children and keep them within the town walls. Even if there were such a man, you hardly considered the possibility that he was cursed.

“It's only because you moved here a few months ago,” Mrs. Mooney crooned. As the wife of the town butcher, she was privy to all the gossip that passed by the family shop. She often stood outside, keeping the stall for the smaller scraps or animals they hadn’t managed to sell to the more prestigious customers. “But we older folk remember the little boy who used to run around here while his father conducted business. Spoiled little thing. Always had a pretty pony and the finest clothes. Stuck his nose up at playing with the other children just because they had dirt on their sleeves. Serves him right, what he got.”

“You don’t know what he deserved and what he didn’t,” another graying woman chimed in haughtily. Her dress, though still rough like a peasant’s, was much nicer than the other villagers. Silver curls spilled out from under a white bonnet. Her hands looked coarse from hard labor and her skin kissed for years under the sun. Crinkles stayed permanently in the corners of her eyes, letting you know that she did smile on occasion. You’d never seen her before when you came to the market, but Mrs. Mooney seemed to know her well.

“You would know better than anyone, Feifei,” Mrs. Mooney sneered.

Though now you were intrigued, Mrs. Mooney did not elaborate how the other woman would know anything about this make-believe man.

“That tongue will get you into trouble someday, Johanna.” Adjusting the basket hanging from the crook of her arm, the old woman spared no glance at the meat as she walked away.

Mrs. Mooney clicked her tongue. With a shake of her head, she turned back to you. “So, milady, do plan on any wares today?”

“No, my father already sent Claudette earlier this week,” you said. The smell of the meat was starting to get to you, but you tried your best to keep it off your face. “I simply came down to escape the confinements of home.”

A huff pushed past her lips. “Oh, yes. I’m sure that large stone house must be suffocating.”

Though lashing out would have been easy, you bit your tongue. This butcher’s wife didn’t know your history. She didn’t know that compared to your previous home in the city, this new place was a shack.

It was your mother’s inheritance that kept you, your siblings, and your father afloat. The home, bought long ago by your grandfather who was now passed, was a honeymoon paradise for your parents. After your mother died giving birth to you, the house was locked up to be a refuge only to spiders and rodents since your father couldn’t bear visiting the place alone. He’d poured himself into his work, curating business as he brought investors and merchants together. When a major client lost his ships at sea, one of his managers took off with most of the assets and funds, leaving debts and loans in their place. To pay off the leeches, most of your possessions had to be auctioned off and the home that had sheltered you since childhood was sold to a new family.

Life away from the bustling city wasn’t too awful. You didn’t have to worry about being run over by a carriage since most of the residents here couldn’t afford one. Everyone seemed to know everyone, which was both intriguing to you while also a little bothersome. At first your family, being new, was the center of all the gossip. Rumors of your father or brother gambling the fortune away or you and your sister having scandalized the family and caused you all to hide away ran rampant. Eventually, the mill settled down and you were left in peace. Some of the villagers still gave side eyed glances, but you’d learned to brush them off.

Thinking it was time to head back home, you said goodbye to the butcher’s wife and followed the brown dirt street beyond the wall that surrounded the town until the scenery turned to fields of wildflowers and small farms. You took a right at the fork, already seeing the two-story country home come into view. The tan brick was a bit faded from the sun and thick vines grew up the sides and around the windows. A small garden grew out in front. There was a fairytale essence to the home that made you love it more. In the back, Claudette would be hanging the laundry to dry in the subtle breeze. Father was most likely in his study, shuffling through papers and letters to find a way out of this place. Cosette was probably lying on the old couch in the front parlor, constantly fanning herself as she whined of the woes she was forced to live through. Your brother, Lu, would be sitting on a log, writing in his journal when he was supposed to be chopping wood.

Cosette was right where you had guessed she was. As soon as you walked through the door, she jumped up and hurried to you with her skirt crumbled in her hand.

“Where have you been?” she screeched, her dark hair pulled back into an intricately braided bun. You tried not to be annoyed. She must have had Claudette do her hair when both of them were supposed to be helping with the washing. “Father has news that he’s been dying to share with us, but he refused to divulge what it is until you were here.”

You rolled your eyes at your sister’s impatience. “Surely, you must have known I would have been home eventually.”

She “hmphed” at you before whirling dramatically and stomping off towards your father’s study. You followed her slowly, your stomach swishing with nerves.

Truth be told, you didn’t mind it out here. The country was a great deal quieter than the city, the air cleaner too. The greatest unexpected gift, however, was how often you saw your dear father. As a child, you had to savor every dinner, every private concert in your living room, and the short moments you were able to spend with him in between his travels or meetings. Claudette never carried as she was more invested in the connections she was making with the other well-to-do families and Lu was often tagging along with your father as the eldest and heir apparent. Now the four of you felt more like a family. If you were, by some miracle or fashion, to go back to the city, routine would fall back into its previous structure and you would be alone again.

Lu surprised you by already being in the room when you entered, seated in a corner with a hardened look on his face. It was strangely out of place given his boyish looks often kept his expression soft. Your father looked up from the papers that were neatly piled up on the desk. “Aw, (y/n)! You’re back from town. Did you have a nice walk?”

“Yes, I did,” you aswered cautiously. “The market was full today.” Your eyes flicked towards Cosette, who had taken the only other chair, continuing to fan herself even though the temperature wasn’t anywhere near that drastic. “I heard you wanted to see us all together?”

“Yes! Yes! Um.” Your father looked around, perhaps to see if there was another place for you to sit. As there was none, he went on. “I received a letter from Lu’s old friend, Lin Gao.” Lu perked up at the mention of Gao. None of you had seen him since you came here, thinking that he, like the others, had abandoned you all when the money was lost. Now, that didn’t seem to be the case. “He has worked with several connections and can bring us back into good standing with society. He’s even convinced a few merchants and investors to allow me to broker deals again.” Your father cleared his throat. “There is, however, one condition.”

“What is that, Father?” Lu asked.

“He asked for (y/n)’s hand in marriage.”

The quietest gasp escaped your lips. Gao wanted… to marry you?

As the baby sister, you tended to follow your brother and his friends around, begging for attention and often they obliged you, as long as the setting was appropriate for a child. All of his friends had treated you as their own sister, equally protecting and caring. You’d never suspected them to have thoughts that led into the contrary as you’d grown up.

Lu’s eyes landed on you for a split second, studying your face enough. “Did he say (y/n) specifically?”

“Yes, why (y/n)?” Cosette scoffed. “I would be more than willing.”

“He specifically asked for (y/n)’s hand.”

Cosette closed her fan with a snap. “Well, then. Arrange the wedding so we can get out of this dumpy town.”

But wait. Did you not get a say in this?

Your father leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “The help from Gao would be tremendous. But I will not force anything on to any of you. (Y/n),” he looked at you with conflict in his eyes, “if you do not wish to marry Gao, I will send him a letter politely declining the offer. I can find other means on my own.”

He was giving you a way out, if you so wished. But you couldn’t deny the help this would bring for all of you.

“Can I think about it?” you asked in a quiet voice.

“Yes, of course.”

“What do you mean, think about it?” Cosette nearly flew out of her seat. “What is there to think about? If we are to get our fortune back, then (y/n) must marry him. I would in a heartbeat if he had asked for me.”

“But he didn’t ask for you,” Lu said.

Your father insisted. “Let your sister think about it. To force this upon her would break my heart. I will not have her live unhappily.”

“And what about me! Why should I live unhappily?”

“Enough!” Your father stood to his feet and he slammed his fist down on the desk. You flinched at the noise the collision created. Rare was it for your father to get upset like this. He was usually very levelheaded. “I am still head of this household and you will accept my decision. Now, go!”

With a stomp of her foot, Cosette stormed out of the room like a spoiled child told that she couldn't have a piece of candy. Eyes trained down on the floor, you quietly excused yourself and went upstairs to your room.

Your favorite place in the house was your room, the smallest besides Claudine’s on the first floor. But the trade for it was the reading crook by the window, overlooking the garden. You liked the isolation you could feel when you sat on the bench, knees pulled up close to your chest as your skirts fell over the side. The window was cold as you laid your forehead against the glass. A breeze was moving through, swaying the leaves in the trees and rattling the vines against the stone walls of the house.

What would living with Gao be like? You had never thought of your brother’s friend in a romantic light. Would there be any romance between the two of you? Or would you be condemned to a loveless marriage like so many other girls? Could you live like that?

You had no answers at the moment. You weren’t sure if you would ever have an answer. But a compromise was coming to the forefront of your mind. You didn’t have to say yes right away. Maybe you could meet with Gao, get to know him more, in a different way that how you knew him before. And, if you decided that he was not the kind of man you wanted to spend your life with, if there was no possibility of love between the two of you, perhaps you could convince him to help your father anyway, for sake of his friendship with Lu.

You pictured Gao’s face in your mind, willing yourself to love it. But all that did was churn your stomach.

**

Your father had sent the letter asking if a visit to the city would be possible for you. Gao’s reply came back quicker than expected: yes. He made all the arrangements; he hired the carriage, sent money so you could rest in an inn for a night before arriving in town the next day. Barely a week had gone by since you were first told of this offer and now you were traveling by yourself for the first time in your life.

Cloak wrapped tightly over your shoulders, you kissed your father goodbye on the cheek. Tears were swelling behind your eyes, but you refused to let him see them.

“Be on your best behavior,” he teased. You were the last out of the three to get into trouble. “Write to me as soon as you arrive. Alright?”

“Of course,” you smiled.

Lu patted your shoulder. When you were a child, he showed you affection freely, but now that you were grown, he’d become a bit awkward when other people were watching. Cosette didn’t say a word. She simply fanned herself at a quick rate as smirk rested on her lips. All she carried about was getting back to high society, to the parties and the searching for a husband who possessed a fortune large enough to keep her satisfied.

Your father glanced up at the sky. “Better go now, my dear. The clouds are growing darker. I want you at that inn before the storm comes through.”

“The only way to do that is to go through the forest,” the driver commented from atop the carriage.

Your father seemed unnerved by that observation but gave no protest. “I will wait to hear from you.”

You gave one last kiss to his stubbled cheek. “Goodbye, father. Take care of him, Lu. Will you?”

“Naturally,” Lu said with a chuckle.

You merely nodded to Cosette before stepping into the carriage. The cabby lurched forward and you allowed the small smile that had been straining on your lips to fall away. Anxiety settled in your stomach. You wanted to have a positive outlook on this whole thing. It was better to possibly marry a friend of the family rather than a complete stranger twenty years your senior.

Unclasping the hook that held your cloak together, you let the soft fabric fall behind you on the seat. The literal weight off your shoulders helped you to breathe easier. You closed your eyes and leaned back. There was still a long journey until you would arrive back in a city that you hadn’t seen in months, although it felt more like years. That was another life to you, a past self. One you had been okay with letting go. And now you were uneasily walking back into its arms.

The ground shook, rattling the walls of the carriage. You pushed the curtain out of the way and peaked out the window. Flashes of lightning so bright that not even the thick trees of the forest could keep them back splintered across the sky. The storm had come quicker than anticipated. Raindrops splattered against the dirt floor, starting out slow then growing in pace. Soon it was impossible to see more than five steps in front of you.

The wind grew untamable. The carriage rocked from side to side, the thin wheels ricketing against the strain. A bolt of lightning screamed too close for comfort. The horse reared back in fright as the carriage passed by a ravine. It was all too much. The carriage toppled over, falling down the side of the ravine. You were tossed around the cabby like a rock between a group of children. When the falling finally stopped, you let out a cry of relief. A second cry left your lips, this time for the driver. But no reply came.

The carriage had landed on its side, but thankfully, it had another door to escape through. You clasped the cloak around your shoulders once more and pulled up the hood before pushing the door open and climbing out.

You were soaked as soon as you stepped out of the carriage. The driver was gone. You didn’t know if he was dead or if he had ran away. The horse, the poor thing, didn’t move or whine. Water was slowly rising in the creek from the rushing rain. You had to get out of here. With what little strength you had, you managed to climb back up the side of the hill. A chill froze your fingers and chattered your teeth. You walked in the opposite way that you thought the carriage was heading. Getting back to your home was your only hope. You had never been in these woods and the sky was too dark to tell directions from the sun. The rain was pouring down harder. Each step you took grew weaker. An unseen tree root stuck out of the ground, catching your foot. Shock ran up your arms as you tried to catch yourself when you fell. You couldn’t go anymore. You were too cold, too tired. So you lied there in the mud, wishing for a miracle. The rain soon came to a stop, but you were still too exhausted to push yourself up. Your eyes grew tired. Finally, the lids closed. The sound of horse hooves against the mud grew near, but you couldn't be sure if it was real or simply your imagination clinging to hope.

“We can’t just leave her here, Xao.”

“But what would the master think if we showed up with her?”

“So, you would leave her to die?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then we take her with us! The castle is big enough that he would never even have to know.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Someone lifted you up from the ground, but before you could discover who it was, you lost consciousness completely.

**

You weren’t sure what woke you up. It could have been the splitting headache that pounded at your skull. Or it could have been the shouting coming from the other side of the door.

“Get her OUT of here!”

“My lord, please, see reason. The poor child was dying in that storm.”

“I don’t care. She’s alive now, so get her out!”

“But she’s still sick. The poor thing has a fever. She’s been sweating all night.”

“I do not want her here. No one is to come here, you know that!”

“Let me take care of her. Once she’s on her feet again, I’ll take her back into town.”

“Fine!”

Heavy foot stomps echoed off the floor. One side of the double doors opened and inside stepped the old woman from the market.

You?

“You’re awake,” she sighed. “I can only imagine what had woken you up.” In her hands was a silver tray of different morsels and a tea kettle slowly letting out a flow of steam. Seeing you struggle to sit up, she hurried to set the tray down on the nightstand and help you. “Don’t overexert yourself, miss. You’re not fully recovered from that awful storm yet. You’ve been asleep for two days now.”

Two days! Your father must have been losing his mind when he never received word that you had arrived in town. A coughing fit of your own started up. The old woman gave you a glass of water to calm your throat before adjusting the pillows behind your head. You took in the bedroom that you were housed in. The light gray drapes that hung from the bedposts were old and a little faded but still made from an expensive velvet fabric. The blanket that covered you was soft and warm and smelled of lavender. Cosette would squeal at the size of this place. It was even bigger than her room at the old house in the city.

“Where am I?”

The old woman’s hands stopped before she could pull out the warming pan from the foot of the bed. “You're at the lord’s estate.”

You frowned. “What lord?” As far as you were aware, the closet lord was at least several days ride from town. And you doubted he would have allowed a room to go untouched like this one obviously was.

Sadness fell upon the old woman’s face. “He’s a good man. A good man with a tragic past.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, the old woman folded her hands and laid them in her lap. “Do you remember the story Mrs. Mooney was telling you at the market?” You nodded. “This is his home.”

“He… exists?”

“Yes. Though the awful rumors….” She shook her head. “Anyway, yes. But his lordship isn’t accustomed to visitors. I apologize for what you might have heard.”

Perhaps it was the fever, but your curiosity was now out of your control. “Why doesn’t he want anyone here?”

The old woman stood up. “Never you mind. We’ll get you back on your feet and then Mr. Chan will take you back into town.” She poured a fresh cup of tea, handing it to you carefully.

“Do I have to go back to town?”

“We don’t really have a choice, dear. You heard the master.” She eyed you as you sipped on the warm, caramel colored tea. “What is it? Why don’t you want to go back to town?”

You finished off the tea before explaining. “My family wants me to get married, to help the financial situation. At first, I thought I was willing to at least try, to see that man again and find out if I could love him. But… now I’m grateful for the storm.”

“If you don’t wish to marry him, why not say so?”

“Because if my father never restores his reputation and our family falls further into ruin, it will be all my fault.”

The old woman shook her head. “You poor thing. That’s too much weight to bear.” She let out a long sigh. “Try to eat and then get more rest. Your eyes look heavy. We’ll see if we can’t delay your being cured by a few more days.” She headed for the door. After opening on side, she halfway turned back around. “I’m Mrs. Chan, by the way. If you need anything, pull on the cord by the bed. I’ll hear the bell and come to you. Now, rest.”

As soon as the door closed and you were alone again, you felt the weight of your lids growing. Reaching over to the tray, you tore off a piece of the bun and chewed on it slowly. Eventually, you nodded off into a dreamless sleep.

**

Over the next several days, you passed between peaceful sleeps and uncomfortable awareness. Your fever broke on day two, but you still felt weak. Mrs. Chan checked up on you often, keeping you well fed and making sure there was a fresh pitcher of water or tea for you to drink. When you stopped sleeping as much, she brought you a book to occupy your time. But you read through the comedic romance quickly. A tingling was coursing up and down your legs. They needed to move, to be used. You’d been lying in bed for so long you weren’t sure if they even worked properly anymore.

Earlier, Mrs. Chan had stopped by to say she was going into town to pick a few things up at the market. Mr. Chan was to be out on the grounds so if you needed anything it would have to wait for her return.

Curiosity was a dangerous thing. On one hand, you could find nothing of interest in this ancient castle. On the other hand, you could find yourself in the absolute wrong place and have yourself thrown out into the cold before Mrs. Chan could come back and rescue you.

Silly. All of it was. A little walk wouldn’t do any harm. You would make sure to stay near your room and if you heard footsteps, you would run back here in an instant.

With your feet bare and the nightgown Mrs. Chan had given you made of a thinner material, you were a bit cold as you left the comfort of the blankets. But you pushed forth with your curiosity. This grand room was all you had seen of your haven. You wanted to know more about the home of the lord whose memory haunted the village. You stuck your head out first, looking down the hall from either side. It was empty save for the polished suits of armor that lined the sides, sitting between old portraits previous tenants. As quietly as you could, you closed the bedroom door behind you and softly stepped further into the hall. Through the long space you made your way, glancing at every painting as you passed. Some had chipped paint while others’ frames had dulled over the years, but each one was still magnificent, the subject stunningly beautiful in their own unique ways. You weren’t sure if it was the magic of the artist or if the family was truly blessed in that manner.

Every so often you would peer into a room when the door was unlocked. Most of them were bedrooms or small studies. By the collection of dust gathered on most of the furniture, they hadn’t been used in quiet a while. Soon, the hall took a turn, spilling out into the Grand Hall where the other hallways met. You started to go right when a set of double doors down a shorter hallway in the other direction caught your eye. They were bigger than any of the other doors you had seen so far. You hurried to that one instead, intrigued by what might be behind it. Barely able to get it open with your weak arms, you squeezed through the space and stumbled inside. Then you gasped.

When Mrs. Chan had described the library to you, she had said that the family had a fair collection of books. You might have to clarify with her what a “fair amount” really meant.

The library was housed in the back most tower, the shelves built into the walls and going higher than your eyes could see. Ladders made of wood and metal were attached to the spaces between the shelves. They moved freely from side to side to put any book within reach. As a child, you thought your father had the biggest collection of books by any one person in the world. How silly you were. This place could hold twenty of your father’s old library. You whirled around and around, taking in every detail. It was like a fairy tale.

You stepped closer to the wall and ran your hand over the leather bindings. It had been so long since you’d been able to take in the smell of old books. You had only been able to save two of your favorite novels from the auction. They were currently hidden under your bed. If Cosette ever got a whiff of them, she’d sell them to pay for a new dress. As you made your way around the library, you spotted another door, one that nearly blended in with the shelves. Feeling brave from your latest discovery, you tried the handle. It turned with ease. You pulled the door towards you. Sunlight spilled into the library. The secondary room was mostly empty – save for one object. A piano.

Bang!

The door shut in your face, startling you backwards. You stumbled into something hard. Turning to see what it was, you gasped in fright

A tall, dark hair man with the left half of his face covered in a white mask glared at you.

“What are you doing in here!” he shouted, face glowing red with fury.

“I-I-I’m sor-sorry,” you stutter as you scurried back. The door to the room stopped you from going any further. You were trapped with no way to escape. “I didn’t mean to-”

“You were supposed to say in your room,” he continued to bellow, not concerned at all with your fear. “Stay away from this room! Go!”

That last command was enough to send you running, passing the man and leaving the library. You hurried to the Great Hall, to get back to your room as quickly as possible. Looking back over your shoulder, you checked to see if he was coming after you. The hallway was empty behind you. Once safely back in your room, you scurried under your covers as if they would protect you from the masked man.

**

Mrs. Chan gave no indication that she was aware of your little adventure. If the masked man – the lord of this castle, you presumed – had told her, surely you would have been thrown out by now. She did, however, seem upset about something.

“Is everything alright?” you asked before she could leave the room with your empty food tray.

“Oh, it’s nothing I want to trouble you with, dear,” Mrs. Chan said.

You smiled at her. “I’ve been told I’m a very good listener.”

A second went by and then Mrs. Chan sighed. “It’s just the master. He wasn’t been sleeping well. He’s been wondering through the west wing lately and I’m worried about him.”

The west wing? That was where you were headed before the library stole your attention. “What’s in the west wing?”

“Nothing of importance,” Mrs. Chan snapped. It was a harsher tone that you were used to. You lowered your gaze remorsefully. “Oh, dear. I’ve upset you. Don’t worry about and try to get more rest. You need color back in your cheeks.” She left the room, blowing out the lamp before shutting the door and leaving you in darkness.

You woke a few hours later to a loud bang. At first you thought of ignoring it. Then the thought of something happening to Mrs. Chan came into your mind.

Throwing a blanket around your shoulders, you carefully relit the lamp and stepped out into the hallway.

“Hello?” you called out softly. Another bang answered you. It was faint, not coming from this hallway. You followed it, occasionally calling out again. No human ever replied.

You passed through the Great Hall and into the west wing. You should learned, really, from your earlier excursion. But the thought of someone being trouble refused to let you turn back. Now that you were closer to the source, a soft moaning could be heard among the silence. You pressed your ear from door to door, trying to see if it was coming from behind one of them. It was the door on the very end that held back the sound. With enough moonlight coming from the wide window at the end of the hall to see by, you put the oil lamp down on the floor out of the way and went inside.

Even in the darkness, you could see the smoke and soot stained walls. The remnants of a bed stood in the middle of the wood. Hanging behind it was a portrait of a beautiful woman with golden hair and rich brown eyes that stuck out even with half of the painting burned and curled.  

“What are you doing in here!”

You gasped as the lord of the castle stepped out of the shadows. His mask was gone, but he kept the left side of his face covered with his hand. In his other hand was a small torch. With its light you could see the scars on the back of his hand, the tight and lifted skin usually caused by fire. You said nothing, too stunned to find words.

Dropping his left hand, he reached out and grabbed you by the wrist. The scars on his face were now partially visible, but still mostly hidden in shadow and by the locks of hair that had fallen. From what you could see, they matched the scars visible on his hand. “I asked you why you are here!”

“I’m sorry!” Your voice came out in squeaks, fear running you cold despite the proximity of the flame. “I heard noises. I thought someone might be in trouble.”

He sneered at your answer. “If you’re well enough to walk around then GET. OUT!” He practically threw you out of the room.

You landed on your knees but didn’t stay there for long. You scrambled up to your feet and took off down the hall, leaving the oil lamp behind. The nightgown caught on your foot in your haste as you passed the staircase. You went tumbling down the marble stairs, a scream piercing your throat. You couldn’t stop no matter how you tried. When the bottom of the staircase finally came, you were out cold.

[alyasgf]

Twin Chefs- Adrinette April Day 9 Baking Lessons

Previous || Next

Summary- Marinette teaching Adrien how to bake.

Excerpt-

Trying to lighten the mood, Adrien reached for the chocolate chips and opened them.

“Hey, do you wanna see a cool trick?” He asked with a mysterious gleam in his eyes.

He then grabbed a chocolate chip and threw it in the air.

Notes- Day 9 of Adrinette April! Exam season is burning me out a bit so this one may not be as good but this is me pushing through

This can be read on it’s own or a part two to my fic “It’s the Thought That Counts?”

AO3

Begin—————

Marinette heard the bell above the door ring and immediately bolted through the door and into the bakery.

Again, it was just a customer.

“Honey if you’re going to run in here every time someone walks in maybe you should help out at the register.” Sabine said with a small laugh. “Of course it’s not like I wouldn’t let you know the minute Adrien walked in.”

“Sorry mom.” Marinette blushed. “He’s just supposed to show up any minute now so I’m a little jumpy.”

Marinette could hardly focus on anything all day. Adrien had texted her the previous night to ask if he could come over for a baking lesson and her parents were leaving for a date around the same time. Meaning it would just be them two. All alone. Together.

“Why don’t you busy yourself by going to see if your father is ready for our date?” She suggested.

Marinette groaned but did as she was told. Her dad followed her back down from the apartment to the bakery, and there she finally saw Adrien.

He sat with Sabine at the table eating a croissant. He laughed as Sabine had made a comment, and Marinette’s heart fluttered.

Then Adrien’s eyes caught hers and she froze.

“Hey Marinette!” He said brightly. “I’m really excited to learn how to make cookies with you today.”

He stood up and walked over to her and her father.

“Hi Mr. Dupain Cheng, its good to see you.”

He put his hand out to Tom and he shook it lightly. He turned to put his hand out to Marinette.

The thought of her hand touching his sent a wave of anxiety through her body.

“Well I guess you guys better get going!” She jumped towards her father and nudged him towards the door as her mother followed. “We’ll make sure everything’s cleaned before you get back, have fun, bye!” She closed the door behind them and leaned back on it with a sigh.

“So you ready Mari?” Adrien asked, leaning slightly to the side trying to get her attention.

“Right right yeah definitely!” She said a little too loudly and walked up the stairs toward the kitchen.

A little confused, Adrien stopped for a moment before shrugging and following behind her.

In the kitchen all the ingredients were laid out on the counter neatly.

“Okay so first you uh...” Marinette’s mind went blank. The easiest thing to bake and in the presence of this boy she completely forgot.

“Mari, are you ok?” Adrien asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

This made her immediately yelp and jump back.

“Yeah I’m fine, perfectly fine.” She replied walking over to the ingredients. “We need to put all the dry ingredients together first.”

Trying to lighten the mood, Adrien reached for the chocolate chips and opened them.

“Hey, do you wanna see a cool trick?” He asked with a mysterious gleam in his eyes.

He then grabbed a chocolate chip and through it in the air. He tried to catch it in his mouth, but instead he leaned too far back and fell right onto his behind.

The chocolate chip fell right beside him.

There was a beat of silence before it was broken by Marinette’s uncontrollable laughter. Adrien blushed while still on the floor, but he was happy to have broken the ice.

Marinette put her hands on the counter in an attempt to steady herself, tears in her eyes. Once she calmed down she turned to the blonde boy.

“Sorry for laughing.” She said, eyes still light and noticing how red Adrien was. She put her hand out to help him up.

“Let’s see you do it then.” He took her hand and gave a challenging smirk.

Marinette promptly threw a chocolate chip in the air and caught it effortlessly. Looks like Ladybug’s hand eye coordination finally rubbed off on her.

“Y’know Adrien” Marinette began, “We do have an extra bag of chocolate chips. Want a challenge? Whoever loses has to clean up the most mess.”

“Deal.” Adrien responded. He grabbed the bag and walked into the bakery. “I take it we’ll come back to the baking later?”

“Shouldn’t take too long to beat you.” She said smiling and following behind him.

———————————

It took almost 20 minutes, and due to some unfortunate distraction, Marinette lost by one.

On the last round as they were tied up, Marinette couldn’t help but notice how free and happy he looked. Then as he counted down from three, Marinette got distracted by his lips.

“No fair it was only one point!” She groaned.

“Nope rules are rules.” He smirked. “I’ll warn you now, I’m a very messy cook.”

“If the brownies you gave me are anything to go by, I’d say you aren’t any kind of cook.”

“Hey! That’s what I’m here for. Besides you said they were fine.” He protested.

“You were making a puppy face what was I supposed to say?” She said with a poorly hidden blush. “C’mon we’re here to bake!”

She then promptly stood up and rushed into the kitchen. Adrien followed.

“Come open the flour I think I forgot to take out the sugar, I’ll be right back.” She left the room to look in the back for the sugar.

She was just reaching for it when she heard a very familiar ripping noise and a yelp.

“Adrien? What just happened?” She asked, dreading the answer.

“Uh... would you believe me if I said nothing?”

Marinette grabbed the sugar and walked swiftly into the other room. Just as she thought, the worst had occurred.

There was flour everywhere. Adrien had pulled the sides of the bag too hard while opening it, and it had ripped straight down the middle. There in the center of the chaos was a flour covered Adrien Agreste.

“Oops?” Adrien smiled at her sheepishly.

She sighed and returned the smile.

“Just because I lost doesn’t mean you have to make the mess I have to clean even bigger y’know.”

She turned and grabbed a rag for Adrien.

“We didn’t even get an apron on you!” She laughed and handed him the rag. “There’s not much of a point to give you one now is there?”

“No, but maybe you should’ve gotten yourself one.” Adrien said mischievously. Before Marinette could realize what he said, he laid a flour covered hand on her shoulder.

She gasped. “Adrien! You’ve already wasted our ingredients and now your ruining my clothes!”

“We have to be in the same boat! There’s no hard feelings.” He cupped some of the loose powder in his hand and blew it into her unamused face. “There, even.”

——————————-

After they managed to acquire more flour, the rest of the baking went off without a hitch. For the most part.

Adrien managed to drop an egg, Marinette forgot to put the stand mixer on a low setting when Adrien absent mindedly touched her hand with his own, and about a third of the cookie dough was eaten before it made it into the oven.

“I just can’t believe you’ve never had raw cookie dough before!”

“I hardly ever have cookies the moment just never came up.”

Marinette was now cleaning the flour, oil and other ingredienttts off the counters and floors. Adrien sat criss crossed on a stool not too far. She might’ve complained about the lack fo help if he didn’t look so adorable. Sitting like that with a handful of cookie dough in his hand, he looked so carefree and childlike.

Still she couldn’t help but tease. “You too good for cleaning Agreste?”

“Last I checked I didn’t lose a challenge Dupain Cheng.” He laughed with a bit of dough in his mouth.

“Well you can help by collecting the dishes into the sink while I put away the ingredients.” She said finishing cleaning up the last of the counters. Adrien’s clothes were still covered in flour and Marinette still had some in her hair and on her face.

“Wait, I want to do something first.” Adrien hopped off the stool, finishing up the last of the dough. He walked over and pulled out his phone. “Picture?”

Marinette nodded and he put his arm around her shoulders. She shivered.

“Say cheese!”

Marinette snuck a quick glance at the boy before smiling. He had a soft look in his eyes and a genuine smile. Nothing like the magazine spreads, that’s for sure.

—————————

After they finished cleaning, Marinette took the cookies out to cool.

“How long do we have to sit here waiting for them?” Adrien asked impatiently while staring at them intently, as if watching them would allow time to pass by faster.

“Just 5 more minutes I think you’ll live.” Marinette giggled. “Tell you what, once they’re done we can grab some milk, head upstairs, and play Ultimate Mecha Strike.”

His eyes lit up yet again with that childlike excitement.

Just then her parents walked in.

Adrien and Marinette turned to see Tom and Sabine with surprised looks on their faces.

“Marinette did you spill flour on your guest?” Sabine asked concerned.

————————

After explaining everything to her parents, Marinette grabbed the cookies and pulled Adrien along to escape with her. They picked up some milk and the apartment and climbed the ladder to her room.

“What time are you supposed to leave?” Marinette asked, pulling herself into her room and taking the milk and cookies from Adrien so he could do the same.

“In about 30 minutes, so we’d better make good use of our time. Specifically by eating those cookies. If the dough is anything to go by, these are going to taste amazing.”

“Well next time you come we can make some macaroons.” She suggested, hoping there’d be a next time.

“Sounds good. Now lets hurry io and eat these, the anticipation is killing me.”

They both laughed and picked up a cookie. They took large bites before sighing.

“So much better than the brownies.” Marinette said with a mouth full of cookie.

“I’d be offended, but I tried them too so I’ll definitely agree. My baking doesn’t even hold a candle to yours.” Adrien took a gulp of milk to wash down the cookie.

“Hey we made this together.” Marinette nudged his shoulder. “This is our baking Adrien, and I think it tastes amazing.”

For the next half hour Marinette kicked Adrien’s butt at Ultimate Mecha Strike as they stuffed themselves with cookies and milk.

When his driver finally arrived, Marinette walked him down.

“Here.” She said while handing him a tupperware. “Think of it as me returning the favor.”

Adrien opened it and was met with the sweet aroma of the cookies.

“Thank you Marinette! Today was amazing I’m glad you invited me. I can’t wait until we make the Macaroons!” He gave her a tight hug before climbing into his car with a wave.

“I can’t either.” Marinette whispered to herself in a lovesick daze.

@adrinetteapril

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #819: Tired (Super Smash Bros Ultimate)

8:46 p.m. at The Beachside of Isle Defino......

It was about to get dark in the island Isle Defino and food stand workers, Roy and Lucas, has already fallen fast sleep at their own stand.

Roy/Lucas: Zzzzzzzzz......

???: Boys?

'Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz'

???: Booooyyyyys.....

'Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz'

???: BOYS!!

The boys quickly got up.in a startled like fashion before accidentally bumping each other and falling down from their chairs.

'THUD' 'THUD'

Roy: (Groans While Getting Himself Up)

Lucas: (Gets Up From the Floor as Well) I'm okay....

Roy: Huh? (Looks Up to See Ann and Shiho In Front the Stand Before Rubbing his Eyes) What you ladies doing here? (Looks Around an Almost Empty Beachside) And where the hell is everybody?

Ann: (Shrugs) Back home? The place was already empty once we got here.

Shiho: I'm.... guessing your customers left once they figured that you were both sleeping.

Ann: How long have you two been working here today?

Roy: (Yawning and Stretching While Walking Out of the Food Stand Along With Lucas) I dunno.....Six in a morning or whatever....

Ann/Shiho: (Eyes Widened in Genuine Shock) SIX IN THE MORNING!?

Roy: Yeah. Our work schedule is six to eight. What's wrong with that?

Ann: Nothing if you have the flexibility to work in that kind of hour. You two are way too young to be doing something like that. Especially when you're SUPPOSED to be vacation!

Roy: (Wave his Hand Down) Ehh. It's not that big of a deal. We still manged to pull through to the end. (Turns to Lucas) Right, Lucas?

Lucas: (Already Fast Asleep on the Ground) Zzzzzzzzzzz......

Roy: (Raised in An Eyebrow in a Bit of Confusion) Uhh....Lucas?

Lucas: Zzzzzzzzz........

Roy reaches his hand to Lucas and starts snapping his finger at him to wake up.

Lucas: (Immediately Wakes Back Up With a Small Yelp) Ahh! I'm up! I'm up!

Ann: Aww sweetie....(Makes Her Way to Lucas While Crouching Down to his Level) Are you getting sleepy already?

Lucas: (Slowly Starts Getting Back Up on his Feet) Yeah......('Yawn') I think so..... (Starts Stretching) Who would've thought working at would be so tiring....('Yawn')

Ann: You want me to carry you back to the house?

Lucas: ('Yawn') Yeah.... If it's really no problem to you, of course.

Ann: (Smiles Softly) It's isn't, kiddo. I gotcha. (Picks Lucas Up in her Arms a

Lucas: (Gives Ann a Tired Smile) Thanks, Big Sis.

Ann: You're welcome!~

Shiho: (Turns to Roy) Hey Roy, I can try and carry you back to the house too if you like.

Roy: Nah. (Yawns While Walking Out of the Beach) I can walk back with you two just fine.

Shiho: (Shrugs While Walking Next to Ann and Roy) 'Kay.

Ann: Sooooo.....How much of money you boys made so far?

Roy: A hundred and something dollars. It would've been a lot more if I didn't have constantly buy the recipe of the nachos and the hot dogs and buns.

Ann: Well, at the very least, you two still have some money leftover. So that's a good thing.

Roy: True. Wish I could've made a lot more though.

Shiho: That's understandable. And we get how boring it is to wait for your allowance come up every once and while. But you really didn't have to worry about getting up in the early morning just to start work. Especially if it's making the both of you this tired and sleepy.

Roy: ('Sigh') Yeah....I guess you right on that one. The business life can be tiring in some areas....

Ann: Those customers of yours weren't giving you two a hard time back there, were they?

Roy: Eh....Sort of? Some of them were loud and impatient for the most part. There was this one guy who almost made Lucas cry by yelling at him. So I told 'em to scram before things got more hectic.

Ann: That's very mature of you, Roy. Between you and me, I would've totally slap the guy for yelling at Lucas like that.

Shiho: Ann!

Ann: What!? I would! You know how protective I am when it comes to our little Sunflower.

Shiho: Yeah, but that doesn't mean two wrongs makes a right. They could try and hurt you for all we know. And then I would pulverize them to oblivion.

Ann: (Giggles Softly) I wouldn't doubt that for second, babe. You are the strongest girl I ever known and love after all~ (Playfully Winks at her Girlfriend)

Shiho: (Giggless Softly as Well While Bashfully Looking Away) I love you too, Ann-Bear~ But my point still stands on this, you know?

Ann: Whatever you say, Shiho-kins~

Roy: (Starts Rolling his Eyes) You lovebirds mind doing your little love shtick some other time? I'm too tired to this crap....

Ann: ('Sigh') Alright. Alright. We'll stop. But in the meantime, let's just enjoy the last bit of our vacation tommorow instead of working on that stand all day, okay?

Roy: (Shrugs) Sounds good to me. Sorry if we worried you earlier.

Ann: (Smiles Brightly at the Koopaling) Nah. Don't worry about it. We're always gonna worry about you kiddo no matter what you do.

Roy: ('Heh') You're sounding just like a mom right now.

Shiho: (Giggles Softly) I know, right? It's kind of cute.

Ann: You guys think so? I feel more like cooler big sister if anything.

Roy: I dunno about the "cooler" part, but.....

Shiho: (Playfully Pouts at Roy) Hey! Ann-Bear is the coolest girl I know!~

Roy: If that's the case, then why you have her that corny ass nickname?

Ann: (Pouts at Roy as Well) Uh excuse you!? I happen to love that corny ass nickname very much thank you.

Roy: (Snickers While Rolling his Eyes) Yeah. I bet you do.

Ann: What was that-

Lucas: Ann...is....coolest big.... sis....(Went Back to Sleep)

Ann: (Heart Begins to Melt in Pure Happiness Along at Lucas' Words Before Turning Back to Roy With a Smug Smirk on her Face) You hear that, Roy? (Gently Hugs the Sleeping Lucas) Lucas thinks I'm the coolest!~

Roy: That's because he's Lucas. He probably only said that to be nice.

Ann: Or it's because he loves us.

Shiho: (Happily Nodded in Agreement)

Roy: ('Tch') Whatevs. You're not even in my Top 10s anyway.

Ann: (Went Back to Pouting Again) ('Hmph') Rude.

@keyenuta

@princekirijo

@caleb13frede

@26shann

@ma-lemons

@albion-93

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 70 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Previously: Raja and Raven had a little office tryst, Violet planned for some overtime, and Courtney decided to take her work to Bianca’s for the night.

This Chapter: Bianca worries, Dahlia and Adore have a showdown, Gigi and Symone have a night in, and Team Baby has a night out.

***

Bianca had just finished laying out the takeout and was opening a bottle of wine when she heard the gentle click of Courtney’s footsteps down the hall.

“B?”

“I’m in the den!” Bianca called out, grinning when Courtney appeared in the doorway, an overstuffed banker’s box in her arms. Bianca eyed her up, appreciating her good little assistant ensemble, which she knew from the photos earlier concealed deeply naughty lingerie. “Hi, baby. Are you hungry? I got By Chloe.”

Courtney smiled, putting down the box and kicking off her heels. “You know, you don’t have to eat vegan food all the time just because of me.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Come here.” Bianca set down the full wine glasses, reaching her arms towards Courtney, who collapsed beside her on the sofa, clearly exhausted. Bianca pulled her close for a soft kiss, then wrapped her into an embrace. “Long day?”

“Mmhmm…” Courtney snuggled against her, nuzzling into her neck. After letting out a deep sigh, she mumbled, “I gotta get back to work.”

“You should eat first,” Bianca reasoned.

“Okay.” Courtney sighed again, making no move to escape her arms.

“Or we could just lie down for a bit.” Bianca ran a hand through her hair.

“No.” Courtney pulled back with a groan, rubbing her eyes. “If I do that, I’ll never finish.”

She slid to the ground, kneeling in front of the coffee table, and began unpacking the box. Labels, cards, envelopes, highlighters, a spreadsheet full of notes...It all looked like a huge pain in the ass to Bianca. Unlike most of her friends, Bianca actually had done this kind of tedious administrative work back when she was starting out, and just seeing it made her skin start to itch.

She turned her attention to the food, quietly making up a plate for Courtney and sliding it over to her.

“Thanks,” Courtney said gratefully, resting her head against Bianca’s knee. “You’re the best.”

“You deserve an actual dinner break,” Bianca said, trying to choose her words carefully so as not to overstep.

“Yeah, maybe, but I’m not gonna be able to relax until this stuff is done.”

“Fair enough,” Bianca said, attempting to feed her a piece of a zucchini fritter. She took it, playfully biting Bianca’s finger in the process. “She’s running you ragged, huh?”

“I guess. I don’t know, it might just be me. I’m not really keeping up with things the way I should,” Courtney explained. “Maybe it’s the weather. I don’t think I’m handling it very well.”

“Not ready for the New York winter?” Bianca asked, playing gently with her hair.

“No, guess not,” Courtney said. “I just...hear Christmas music and want to go to the beach.”

Bianca laughed, leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead. “Ah. Southern hemisphere problems?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Alright, well...I’ll do my best to keep you warm,” Bianca said, and Courtney giggled, fluttering her lashes up at her before going back to her work.

It made sense that the weather would get to her. Spending her whole childhood in Australia and then college in San Diego must have done little to prepare her for how cold and dreary New York got in the winter. She didn’t have the heart to tell her that she hadn’t even seen the worst of it--January was bound to be even colder. It gave her an idea, though, so while Courtney continued working, Bianca shot off a text to her travel agent.

Once she had the ball rolling with Victoria, she looked back at Courtney’s progress, chuckling to herself over the custom stamps--not only that, but they were clearly winter themed, the Galactica logo covered in glittering icicles.

“What are you laughing at?” Courtney asked, diligently checking each name off her spreadsheet as she went.

“The stamps. They’re so Fame.” Bianca picked one up, looking it over.

“Oh yeah. Cute, huh?” Courtney said, sticking down a label.

“Very. So...do I get a card this year?”

“Yeah, but you’re in a different category.”

“The shithouse category?” Bianca guessed.

“No. You’re getting a gift.” Courtney turned to grin at her. “So I can deal with you on Monday.”

“Do you have the card?” Bianca asked, now curious. If she was still getting a gift, then maybe Fame wasn’t as angry as she seemed on Tuesday.

“Yeah, hang on.” Courtney combed carefully through one of the stacks, pulling out Bianca’s card.

A post-it was affixed to the front that said ‘Cristal.’ Not too bad. Bianca actually felt a bit optimistic until she opened the card. There was the typical printed message. At the top, in Fame’s loopy cursive, she’d written, ‘Bianca,’ which was bad enough--no ‘dear’ or ‘darling’ as usual. But worse, the bottom, which simply read ‘Regards, Fame.’

Oof.

A slightly sick feeling curled in Bianca’s stomach, that she tried to ignore by joking, “Well, at least she didn’t write ‘fuck you.’”

“You left her dinner party before they served dinner. You knew she’d be mad, right?” Courtney said.

“I know, I know…” Bianca set the card back on the table, watching as Courtney put it back into the right stack, then continued carefully peeling labels off the sheet and sticking them on the envelopes.

“I’m sorry, though. I feel a little responsible.”

“That’s true, this is all your fault. For being too damn irresistible.”

Courtney laughed as Bianca settled back against the sofa cushions, when suddenly, a thought flashed through her head.

“So uh, just out of curiosity, what does Anna Wintour’s card say?”

“I can’t tell you that,” Courtney giggled.

“Come on…”

“No! That’s a federal offense!”

“I’ll risk the jail time. Please?” Bianca wheedled, reaching out towards the box. “She’s my competition, I have to know!”

“No!” Courtney slapped her hand away.

“Not sure why you’re being so protective of Anna Wintour,” Bianca grumbled.

“Well, I’m seeing her on the side,” Courtney quipped, then tossed a gleeful look back at Bianca, adding, “What can I say? I like older women.”

“Very funny.” Bianca pretended to be annoyed, but couldn’t help be charmed at how proud Courtney looked of herself in that moment.

“Awww, B…” Courtney climbed up onto the sofa, straddling her. “You know I love you. And only you.”

“Yeah?” Bianca found it impossible to keep pretending to pout with Courtney so close, so soft, smelling so good. Her dimples deepened, against her will, as Courtney kissed along her jaw to her neck.

“Yeah…” Courtney started to suck gently on her pulse point as Bianca’s fingers traveled up her thighs, disappearing under her skirt.

“Hmm, if you say so…”

“B, we really can’t,” Courtney began breathlessly, “I have to keep working, or-”

“Or what?” Bianca growled, voice low, the telltale shiver making her even bolder, fingers edging along the lace of her panties, the ones that had kept Bianca drooling over her photos all afternoon.

“Or I...” Courtney’s own fingers dug into Bianca’s shoulders, whimpering, “Oh, Anna.”

“Get offa me!” Bianca barked, shoving her playfully as she laughed and laughed. “Finish your damn cards.”

***

“What are you doing here?” Dahlia asked, irritated. She had just arrived at the warehouse for their band’s gig, her bass strapped to her back, and before she’d even spotted Adore, Aja or Alex, she’d seen Pearl, holding court by the bar with a couple of hangers-on, a heavy camera against her hip.

“Working,” Pearl said, gesturing to the camera that was slung over her shoulder. “Gotta stay up to date with the trends.”

Dahlia put her hands on her hips, unable to buy that she was there by accident. “Oh yeah, you just randomly decided to come here tonight, where we’d randomly be performing?”

“Pretty awesome coincidence, huh?” Pearl asked, a sparkle in her blue eyes that Dahlia would probably have found charming if she wasn't so pissed. “Someone upstairs must really love me.”

“Come on. This isn’t cool. The club is one thing, but this is my real life.”

“Not everything is about you, Dahlia,” Pearl said, rolling her eyes, and Dahlia found herself getting even angrier.

Why couldn’t Pearl just keep whatever stupid thing was going on between them in a box, like she could?

Of course she was sexy, and fun, and in another lifetime, Dahlia might even have let herself fall for her--but the reality of the situation was that she didn’t have that luxury, and seeing her here only confused things.

“How do you think Adore will feel if she sees you?” Dahlia asked, trying not to get distracted by her tongue playing coyly with the straw.

“I don’t know, but where do you think we met in the first place? At a party just like this one. We’re gonna run into each other, it’s a small town.”

“Actually, it’s not a small town, it’s a big ass city. But you are a huge dick,” Dahlia said, flouncing away. The fucking nerve of her.

Of course, as expected, the first thing Adore asked when she finally reached the group was, “What were you doing talking to Pearl?”

Ugh. This was gonna be a bitch to explain.

“Well, she’s sort of been...coming to the club. While I’m working.”

“Like…” the wheels turned in Adore’s head, finally guessing, “Like to hit on you?”

“I guess, in a way, but not exactly. She’s just like, a client. Who unfortunately knows my real name, so…” Dahlia shrugged. “It’s good money, you know?”

“That’s…” Adore seemed to be searching for the right words, her brow furrowed, her lips turned down in a frown. “That’s fucked, Dahlia. She’s my ex.”

“It’s my job, Adore.” Dahlia could find herself getting impatient. This wasn’t something she expected Adore to understand. Adore didn’t even have to work. Her sister gave her money to fuck around and focus all her time and energy on her music. But still, it should be obvious that Dahlia’s life wasn’t charmed like Adore’s; she worked her ass off, literally. “And she may suck, but she’s a hell of a lot better than the disgusting, mouth-breathing dudes I usually have to strip for!”

“So,” Adore stepped closer, crossing her arms. “Not only are you stripping for my ex-girlfriend, and doing god knows what else-”

“Watch it, bitch-”

“But you’re like, enjoying it?” Adore demanded, and Dahlia very much did not appreciate her tone.

“I didn’t say that! She’s just like, not hideous, and usually-” Dahlia stopped. “You know what, fuck this, I don’t have to explain myself to you, you privileged fuck!”

“Are you fucking-”

“Guys, guys, guys, what the hell is going on?” Alex cut in far too late to actually stop the runaway train. “Can you both chill, we have to play a set in like 20 minutes.”

“Yeah guys, chill,” Aja added halfheartedly, though from the look on their face, they seemed to be enjoying the show, watching with one eyebrow raised while sipping a beer.

“I’m not playing with her!” Adore exclaimed, stomping her foot like the spoiled baby she was. “She’s a fucking traitor, and a slut, and-”

“Go fuck yourself!” Dahlia shouted back, turning and storming off for the second time that night, through the crowd, all the way back to Pearl, who was chatting casually with some girl, completely oblivious to the shitstorm that she’d created.

Pearl looked up at Dahlia, at her heaving chest and flushed cheeks, and smiled. “Hi, cupcake. Back for more banter?”

“Shut up!” Dahlia said, stepping forward. “Just shut up.”

“Okay, baby.” Pearl’s eyes drifted from Dahlia’s eyes down to her lips, and then back up. They were standing close now, and Dahlia knew that Pearl could feel her pounding heartbeat. She tangled her hands into Pearl’s perfectly tousled blonde hair, grabbing fistsfuls of it as she pressed their lips together.

Pearl immediately responded--either she didn’t know that Dahlia was mostly doing this to make a point to Adore, or she didn’t care, kissing her back with passion, hands gripping her waist. When they broke apart, panting, Dahlia asked, “Wanna get out of here?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Pearl responded, with a grin that said she very much thought Dahlia would ask. Dahlia rolled her eyes, anxious to wipe that stupid smirk right off her face.

“I told you to shut up. Come on, you’re paying for the cab.”

She grabbed Pearl’s wrist, pulling her from the crowded warehouse without so much as a glance back at Adore or her pathetic face.

***

Hearing Dahlia gasp and moan was so satisfying, Pearl thought she might come just from listening to it. Her face was buried in her pussy, savoring the taste of her, tongue not resting until her hips finally stilled and whimpers began to sound from Pearl licking her clit in its oversensitive state. Pearl pressed one more kiss to her lower belly before sitting up, gazing at her sprawled on the bed.

She was as sinfully sexy as ever--even sweaty and disheveled, her hair and makeup were still a dream, long lashes fluttering on her cheeks, dark curls spread out around her head. Her bra was half on, tits pulled out of the cups, nipples pert and erect. Pearl lay down next to her, propped up on her elbow, trailing a hand over her heated skin.

“How’re you feeling, cupcake?”

“No complaints,” Dahlia panted out, her perfect tits rising and falling rapidly.

“Oh no? That’s good.” Pearl grinned.

“How ‘bout you? Was it everything you imagined?” Dahlia asked, and Pearl couldn’t help but chuckle at her dry tone.

“And more…” Pearl leaned forward, kissing her cheek once more before before heaving herself up. She searched the dimly lit room for her clothes, wondering how and when her left shoe got flung so far away from the bed.

When she was fully dressed, she turned back to Dahlia, who had caught her breath and was now sitting up, watching her with those dark, cat-like eyes. She saw by Dahlia’s slightly puzzled expression that she was perhaps expecting her to stay longer, and couldn’t help but feel like that was a win.

“So...I guess I’ll see you at the club?” Pearl said, eyes sweeping over her body once more, trying to memorize every inch of her in that delectable state. “No extra funny business, but you know I love wing night.”

“Sure,” Dahlia rolled her eyes. “Or…” she bit her lip, looking Pearl square in the eye, fearless and fierce. “If you want, you could have my number.”

Victory at last.

Pearl grinned, feeling like the cat that ate the canary. “Sounds great, doll.”

***

“What about this one?” Violet looked over at Max, who was holding up a beige suit jacket with peonies in shades of pink.

“Maybe…” Violet bit her lip, but she knew it wasn’t what she was looking for. “No. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Max smiled, putting the jacket back on the rack, the coffee Violet had bought for him in his other hand. “We’ll find something.”

They were in the Gucci store, Max kind enough to tag along with her when she had texted and asked if he had time to help her out, getting around Manhattan on crutches by herself an absolute nightmare.

When they had arrived, the store clerk had given both of them a disdainful, and Violet was pretty sure that he would have kicked them out if it wasn’t for her Dior purse and how cearly expensive Max’s shoes where, the sharp taste of shame in her mouth when she had nearly stumbled on the store steps because of the snow.

“I know I’m being difficult,” Violet looked around. “I just need…”

Violet hadn’t really planned on getting Sutan anything more than socks, no matter what Raven had suggested, a novelty pair with croissants on them hidden on the bottom of her underwear drawer, but when she had gotten home yesterday, she had seen a regular mountain of designer boxes and bags all stacked high on Sutan’s designated dumping spot in the kitchen.

She knew it probably didn’t matter to him, that Sutan would love the socks, her gift to his mother and Raja and Raven much more extravagant, but she refused to accept anything designer and give socks in return. It wasn’t a smart financial decision, actually, it was bordering on downright idiotic, but she had spent so little on food staying at Sutan’s that she could almost work it in.

“Let’s go look at the sweaters.”

***

“Okay, so, I’m not trying to be ungrateful, but whoever said that this,” Symone shook the big red bowl of popcorn she had in her lap, “tastes like regular old popcorn, is a liar.”

“Come on.” Gigi smiled. “It’s not that bad.”

She and Symone were sitting on the living room couch, The Muppet Christmas Carol playing on the TV, the modeling apartment completely empty except for the two of them.

Everyone else had already gone home for Christmas, Gigi’s flight leaving the next morning, while Symone had said with a laugh that she was delaying going home for as long as she could since this was the first time she didn’t have to answer to her mama.

“Popcorn needs butter.” Symone huffed, but she still took another handful. The skinny pop they were eating had been left by Naomi who had gone home to Los Angeles last week. “I don’t care if I’m a model now.”

“Ooooh,” Gigi giggled, Symone so cool and carefree. “Look at the rebel.”

“What can I say,” Symone smirked, throwing her hair over her shoulder.  “It’s hard being perfect.”

Gigi had tried not to be disappointed when Symone shared that she had been selected by Galactica for their February show, her own booking noticeably absent. Sutan hadn’t seemed to sweat it, her manager not treating her any differently, his faith in her clearly still there since her January was filled with go sees, but it had been a bitter pill to swallow.

“Hey,” Gigi felt an elbow push against her side, and she looked up to see Symone’s brown eyes resting on her face. “Don’t look like that.”

“Look like what?”

“Like you’re not amazing.”

“You think I’m amazing?”

“Of course!” Symone grinned and Gigi could feel warmth wash over her body, her fingertips tingling, her stomach fluttering with butterflies.

***

Jinkx tapped Bianca on the shoulder, fixing her face with a puzzled expression as she turned around, glass of champagne in hand, strangers’ chatter barely audible over the Christmas music. The party was perfectly fine, if boring, one of those mandatory events to attend every year, making nice with all the big shots if you wanted them to keep donating to your charity foundations--which Jinkx definitely did.

“Hi...I’m sorry to bother you ma’am, but you look terribly familiar…” JInkx tilted her head, a wicked grin on her red lips. “Have we met before? It’s been so long, I hardly remember-”

“Shut up, cunt,” Bianca laughed, sweeping her into a hug and holding her tight. “How are you?”

“Well, so much has happened since the last time we saw each other…” Jinkx swept her red hair over her shoulder, her dress for the evening a stunning green number with sequins. “I’ve had 7 marriages and 12 kids-”

“Alright, alright…” Bianca cut her off, rolling her eyes even though she was smiling. “I’m sorry.” She put her glass down on a nearby table, turning her back to the party so she could focus entirely on Jinkx. “I’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Jinkx grinned mischievously, quirking an eyebrow. “Young love, huh?” Jinkx didn’t keep up with the press like she used to, but it had been impossible to miss Bianca splashed all over Manhattan's premiere gossip blog sucking face.

“Something like that,” Bianca grinned back.

Jinkx shook her head in amazement. She’d known Bianca for 20 years, and seeing her driven to distraction by romance was completely out of character, making Jinkx certain that whoever this girl was, she must be something truly special.

“So, did you bring her tonight? I’m dying to meet her,” Jinkx said, linking her arm through Bianca’s.

“And subject her to one of Ted’s rambling speeches? No thanks.”

“Aww, well, that’s a shame.” Jinkx took a sip of her cranberry spritzer, waiting a beat before asking, “So...what does the crew think? Are they playing nice?”

Bianca cut her eyes at Jinkx, asking, “Do they ever?”

“Well...I might not be the best judge of that...but no.” It still stung a little, the way Jinkx’ friendships with that entire group had fallen apart years ago, after her disastrous failed engagement with Sutan and subsequent downward spiral, the last few months nothing but hazy, indistinct memories--she was probably lucky that she didn’t remember most of it.

Only Bianca had kept in touch with her through all the worst times. Not that she blamed the others; she’d been a full mess, and anyone in their right mind would have walked away.

She was just lucky that Bianca happened to be crazy enough to stick around.

“Juju’s been okay,” Bianca offered, sighing a little. “She called me the other day and apologized. Even though I know she disapproves. In some ways, it’s worse than Raja and the rest of them, you know? When the nice one disapproves? But at least she’s trying.”

“I get that.” Jinkx had seen Juju a few times in recent years, and she’d been warm and sweet, and if Jinkx was braver, she’d have attempted to strike up a relationship again, now that she had years of sobriety under her belt. But somehow, the idea of rejection from the person who’d always been the voice of reason was exponentially scarier than more cold shoulder from Fame or Raja, or Sutan’s cowardly avoidance.

“I know you do. What about you, how are rehearsals going?”

“Oh, things are really heating up. I think...it could be a really good show,” she said, hope blooming on her face. “I can’t wait for you to see it.”

“I can’t wait either, red. I’m real fucking proud of you.” Bianca pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Are you gonna be around for Christmas? I’m putting together a little brunch. Nothing fancy, just the usual group of Jews and orphans.”

Bianca laughed. “Not this year. I decided to whisk Courtney away for a little trip while her office is closed down.”

“Well, that’s predictably extra of you,” Jinkx giggled. “You’ll be back for New Year’s though, right?”

“Of course, wouldn’t miss it!”

***

“Triiiiiiiin!” Adore screeched, racing up to Trinity and throwing her arms around her, hugging her tightly.

Adore very much needed this night out with her girls after last night’s humiliating debacle with Dahlia. The fucking traitorous cunt. Trinity, who was another one of Courtney’s sorority sisters (and low-key maybe Adore’s favorite of that whole group) visiting from Atlanta was the perfect excuse. Being around people who she knew had her back would do a lot to soothe her frayed nerves and bruised ego, the band barely getting through their gig, the angry tears that coursed down her cheeks during their last number fortunately in line with the lyrics.

“Hey girl, how are you?” Trinity asked.

“Right now I’m fucking perfect,” Adore murmured, face buried in her long dark hair.

“Don’t fucking hog her, Adore!” Morgan said, elbowing her in the side.

Trinity took Adore’s face in her hands and looked into her eyes, for the moment ignoring Morgan and Tyra jostling for her attention.

“You alright?” Trinity asked softly, and Adore knew that she was seconds away from tearing up like a big old baby. So she just nodded, and let Trinity fold her into another warm hug

“Hey, there’s a table free!” Tyra exclaimed, quickly dragging Morgan and Tati over, Trinity and Adore trailing behind. “Morgan, you get the first round.”

“I always get the first round,” Morgan protested.

“Omigod, whatever, I’ll get it, you petty bitch.” Tyra rolled her eyes and flounced over to the bar.

Adore wasn’t paying much attention to their bickering, just happy to have Trinity’s arm around her shoulders.

“So, how’s the new job going?” Adore asked her, eyes hopeful as she asked, “Still considering moving here? Pretty please?”

Trinity giggled, tossing her hair. “It’s a possibility. It depends how this whole CMA thing goes.”

“You’ll do great, you’re smart.” Adore waved her hand. “The real question is, what neighborhood do you want to move into? I vote for downtown and not some outer borough garbage like Courtney.”

“Speaking of, where is-”

“Trinity!” Courtney squealed, pushing her way through the crowd and running over to their table, flinging herself into Trinity’s arms.

“Hi baby! You look great, spin around for me.”

“You think?” Courtney beamed, spinning happily to show off the clothes that Adore was certain Bianca had either bought for her or lent from her massive closet. In fact, her jacket looked very familiar. And her earrings. And her boots. Jesus Christ.

“Who wants tequila?!” Tyra exclaimed, setting a bunch of shot glasses down on the table.

“Everyone but Courtney,” Adore laughed, taking a lime and a glass.

“I’ll take one!” Courtney countered, still grinning from ear to ear, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. “What the hell, right?”

“Wow, what’s gotten you so happy?” Trinity asked. “Last time we talked, you were super stressed and up to your ass in work.”

“Oh, I still am,” Courtney giggled. “But it’s Saturday, so...cheers, mates!”

She and Trinity clinked glasses and then downed their shots.

“Seriously though...what’s up?” Trinity asked. “Did your dad send you some magical new multivitamin?”

“Man, are you out of the loop,” Morgan said, shaking her head.

“What?”

“She’s getting laid,” Tati explained, and Courtney laughed, coyly fluttering her lashes.

“Ohh, okay. Who’s the lucky douchebag?” Trinity asked, clearly assuming that Courtney was continuing her pattern of dating horrible men and then discarding them quickly.

“My sister,” Adore said pointedly, tossing back her own shot and then biting down on the lime.

Trinity turned back to Courtney, eyes huge, mouth open. “Whoaaaa…”

“Yeah, she’s not even like, a little gay like Tati,” Tyra teased. “She’s gone full lez overnight.”

Courtney laughed again, simpering and giggling, looking happier than Adore had ever seen her--like the world was hers for the taking. She groaned internally, wondering if maybe Jujubee had been right about Bianca giving Courtney way too much hope.

The last thing she needed was to have her heart broken and her dreams crushed, and if it was by Adore’s sister, then she’d feel somewhat responsible.

Shit.

“So like...whoa,” Trinity said again, still in a bit of shock, but clearly amused.

“I’ll get the next round!” Courtney then exclaimed, and began to skip over to the bar.

“Wait up, Court!” Adore called, following her.

Courtney bounced happily up to the bar, quickly getting the bartender’s attention and ordering six Cosmos. Right after tequila shots. Tonight was shaping up to be quite a mess, Adore realized, but shrugged, figuring that getting wild before they all went home for the holidays wouldn’t be the worst thing.

While the bartender began making their drinks, Adore linked her arm through Courtney’s.

“So...uh...how are things going with B, anyway? And feel free to refrain from getting too graphic.”

“I’ll do my best,” Courtney giggled, turning towards Adore with sparkling eyes. “It’s going...so fucking good, Dore. I’ve never met anyone like her, she’s incredible...”

“That’s good,” Adore said. “I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

“It’s more than that,” Courtney said. “It’s like...I always thought I was a pretty happy person, but then she came along and it’s just made everything so much brighter and more wonderful than I ever thought possible. Like I’m seeing colors I never knew existed, you know?”

Shiiiit.

“Okay well...yeah, cool.”

“What’s wrong? I thought you were good with it, did-”

“I am! I’m totally good with it,” Adore said quickly, nodding and forcing a smile. “And I’m really happy for you.”

“But?” Courtney eyes, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Well, it’s just, it’s Bianca. She just sometimes tends to, um…” Adore bit her lip. How the fuck was she supposed to do this? This was her sister, her favorite person in the world, and even though it might be true, talking shit about her in any way except a joke felt wrong. “She’s just not much of a relationship person. You know?”

“Hmm. Yeah, I know.” Courtney paused slightly, thinking, and Adore wished she knew what was going through her head.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Adore continued. “I would feel so shitty, like it was my fault, if she...you know. Did her usual thing with you. Especially if she was giving you the wrong idea, letting you think it’s more serious than...than she can handle.”

“That’s fair,” Courtney said, taking in Adore’s words with such nonchalance that Adore had to wonder if she was even listening.

“She just tends to, like...move on quickly, before things get too real. I think it’s some kind of defense thing, probably because of our-” Adore stopped, realizing she was about to majorly overstep. That tequila shot must have hit her harder than she thought. “I dunno. She just doesn’t really like anything serious. And I know y’all are about to spend Christmas together, and it’s Bianca so she’s gonna buy you a billion presents, and I just don’t want you to think it means...you know...”

“Well…” Courtney pressed her lips together, handing her credit card over to the bartender before busting out a smug, “She told me she loved me.”

“She what?!” Adore’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Love? That was new. That was major.

“Mmhmm…” Courtney took one of the cocktails into her hands, sipping it daintily.

Well. It appeared that her sister’s nearest and dearest friends were dead fucking wrong. It also explained why Courtney looked self-satisfied as fuck, instead of defensive or annoyed. And as for Adore, what she felt mostly was relief, and joy, and a tiny bit of guilt for being talked out of giving Bianca the benefit of the doubt.

“Well, shit. Okay, you know what? I take back everything I said. You’re in uncharted territory.” She picked up one of the drinks and held it out. “Cheers, bitch.”

“Cheers,” Courtney giggled, taking another sip. She took her card back from the bartender and began collecting the drinks. Adore helped, taking three of them into her own hands.

“So, can I be the flower girl at your wedding?” she asked, heading back over to their table.

Courtney laughed gaily, bumping Adore with her hip, showing her that there were no hard feelings at all.

***

[frodos-bizarre-adventure]

@gingerreggg i honestly didn't think it would get this far (part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

Heads Up- Part 4 (Joseph x Bust! Caesar)

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

"Jojo! Wake up!" Caesar yelled from a neighboring tabletop in Joseph's room.

"Alright, alright," he groaned, groggily. "You make such a great alarm clock," he laughed, as he rubbed his eyes and stretched out with a yawn.

It had been four days now since Caesar first came alive, and Joseph was surprised how quickly the living artwork had just sort of become part of everyday life. Somehow, even a talking lump of painted clay very quickly assimilated into his "normal"-- if anything could even be considered normal anymore in this situation.

Joseph stood up and began to plod lazily to the kitchen for breakfast, but was stopped by an angry shout.

"HEY! Are you forgetting something?" yelled Caesar from his bedside table.

"Ok, I'm sorry, clay boy!" Joseph grumbled crankily in response, stomping over to the table. Hell hath no fury than a sleepless artist without his morning coffee.

Caesar was quite heavy, being made of dense clay, and Joseph struggled to lower him down to the floor. As Caesar could only jump a few inches at a time, it had become a regular routine for Joseph to lift and lower him onto tables and platforms, as he was completely helpless when placed high off the floor.

"There, happy now?" Joseph groaned, as he lumbered off to the kitchen. Caesar bounced his way after him, cursing under his breath about Joseph's long striding legs that made it hard for the bust to keep up.

As Joseph poured and stirred his morning coffee, Caesar impatiently hopped about the kitchen floor. "Don't tell me you're gonna place me onto the table again."

Joseph smiled between sips. "Alright, you've been through a lot already. Perhaps it's my turn to go down to your level." Bending down, he set his cup gently on the floor, and sat down cross-legged on the wooden kitchen floor, leaning his back against the wall.

Creator and creation sat side-by-side having breakfast-- a surreal scene that was now a part of Joseph's every morning. As he took another sip, Joseph absent-mindedly offered Caesar some of his coffee.

"Want a taste? It's brewed." he asked.

"I am a clay bust," Caesar reminded him. "I don't drink."

"Oh yeah, sorry. Suit yourself then," Joseph said, taking another sip of the hot, fragrant liquid.

A thought crossed Joseph's curious mind. "Say, Caesar, what's it like being a bust? Do you feel any needs? Hungry, thirsty, bathroom, tiredness?"

Caesar pondered for a moment. "Hungry and thirsty? Certainly not. Though I do feel sleepy at times. And bathroom, forget about it." Joseph giggled.

"You're such a mysterious creature, Caesar," he said. "And that's coming from someone who made you."

Caesar sighed --somehow, as he didn't seem to breathe, yet could speak.

"I don't know how I work, or why," he said, somewhat exasperated, "and I'm not sure how I'm even alive in the first place. Yet I'm glad I am, somehow. I guess life as a bouncing head is better than no life at all."

Joseph gently stroked Caesar's nub of a shoulder.

There was a knock on the door. "Jojo! Caesar! It's me again!"

"Gimme a sec, Suzi!" Joseph called back, gulping the last of his coffee and placing it on the sink. He went over to the door, and was once again greeted with the usual cheerful smile.

"Oh great," Caesar groaned, bouncing his way over to the living room. "It's her again."

Suzi entered the house, but Joseph blocked her. "Wait. You swear nobody else knows about Caesar? Just us?"

"He's our little secret," she replied with a wink. With a sigh of relief Joseph allowed her to enter, locking the door behind her.

"Hello Caesar!" she greeted the bust, stooping down and playfully tapping his nose as a welcoming gesture, to his visible annoyance.

"Why are you here again?" demanded the bust. "Here to handle me again? Cause I don't like it."

"About that..." Joseph said uneasily.

"You see, Caesar, I've got classes to attend every week. I'm gonna have to head to university today to pass my assignments, and since I can't leave you alone...I've arranged for her to stay over today!"

"Great, you hired a babysitter," Caesar whined sarcastically. "I'd clap if I had hands."

"Don't worry, it'll be fun!" Suzi said, taking off her backpack and placing it on the floor. "Joseph told me he sees you're very bored, stuck in the house all day with nothing to do, so I figured I'd try doing some activities with you to pass the time."

------

With Joseph away for the afternoon, it was only Suzi and Caesar in the house. She'd brought some books, a few toy blocks, and colored pencils and paper, which she spread all over the living room floor.

"What can you do with those lips of yours?" Suzi asked Caesar.

"Pretty much everything," Caesar said. "I don't have any arms or hands, so I'm pretty much forced to do all the picking up and holding things with my mouth. Thank Joseph for sculpting these lovely, flexible lips," he huffed, somewhat amused.

Suzi smiled, picking up a sheet of paper. "You could perhaps work on your dexterity! I figured you should try practicing some fun activities to improve your skills!"

"Anything," Caesar moaned. "It's been very dull here."

Caesar's first activity was learning how to write and draw. Bending over as low as he could without falling on his face, he awkwardly picked up one of the pencils in his mouth. He hopped closer to the paper, which Suzi had propped up vertically against a clipboard, and slowly, cautiously brought the point closer to the paper.

"There you go", Suzi encouraged, sitting beside him. "And now...gently press the tip to the paper."

"Mrrph hrr shr ymm ehh?" Caesar mumbled incoherently with the pencil in his mouth.

Suzi laughed. "You can't talk when you're holding something, huh. Don't worry, you're doing great, just carefully hold the pencil."

With a great deal of effort Caesar tried to write his own name. It was a bit of a challenge trying to gauge how much pressure he had to apply to the pencil, as he couldn't figure out how hard to press the point.

*SNAP!* The pencil point snapped off as Caesar pressed too hard. Frustrated, Caesar spat out the broken pencil onto the floor.

"Damn it!" Caesar yelled, pressing his forehead against the paper in complete vexation.

"Ok, ok, don't be mad," Suzi reassured. "Here, have another pencil," she said, gently placing another, sharpened pencil in Caesar's mouth. "It won't hurt to try again."

------

"I'm hoooome!" Joseph called out from the door, as he entered the front door. It was already night time by the time he returned, with the evening sky graced by a bright quarter moon.

"Jojo! You're back!" Suzi said excitedly. "I've been waiting so long for you!"

"Why?" said Joseph, with a hint of concern. "How's Caesar?"

"Oh, he has a little surprise to show you," she replied, tugging urgently on his arm.

She led Joseph into the living room, where Caesar sat on the floor next to a piece of paper on a clipboard. On it were a few scribbles, almost like a toddler's drawings, and on the top, scrawled in illegible, wiggly handwriting --or rather, mouthwriting-- were the letters, C-A-E-S-A-R, with each letter a different color.

Joseph couldn't hold back a smile. It felt oddly flattering that his artwork...was creating his own artwork. An art-ception, perhaps.

"I love the colors," Joseph complimented.

"Only because my pencil broke with every letter," Caesar complained.

"He's been learning very quickly, I've been teaching him how to use his mouth to do things! He may just be a head, but he's come pretty far in figuring out how to get tasks done on his own," Suzi explained, almost like a kindergarten teacher meeting with a student's parent.

Caesar smiled at her. She may have been quite intimidating, even frightening, when she first met him, but he'd gradually warmed up to her as the day went on.

"Say, Caesar," grinned Joseph, reaching into a paper bag he had brought home. "I've got a surprise of my own for you!" He pulled out a small, fancy hat and a bowtie, which he proudly showed off to his clay creation. Caesar recoiled at the sight.

"What...the hell are those?" he groaned.

"Suzi said you were, uhm, naked, so I figured I ought to get you dressed up," Joseph smirked.

"I don't even have a body to expose!" Caesar tried to rationalize.

He grumbled irately as Joseph lifted him up onto the living room table, placing the hat gently onto his head, careful not to ruin the clay spikes of his hair. He then tied the bowtie around Caesar's neck, with a customized collar that covered up the bare portions of his flesh-colored bare torso.

"I look ridiculous, Jojo," Caesar groaned, as he looked at his own reflection in the mirror. But without hands, there was no way he could take off his new, fancy accessories, and was resigned to abide with his fashion choice.

"I think it looks handsome on you," Suzi assured with an awkward smile.

Caesar looked back at his reflection, decked out in whatever little clothing he could wear. And as silly as he felt, he couldn't help but also feel a bit grateful.

"Say, Suzi, what are you up to today?" Joseph quipped.

"I hadn't been doing much, really. I graduated a year ahead of you, so I'm pretty much vacant these days," she sighed.

"You don't suppose you could visit more?" Joseph requested. "I'm sure Caesar would appreciate the company."

"I live just a few blocks down the road!" Suzi replied, grinning brightly. "I wouldn't mind staying overnight every now and then!"

"Alright!" Joseph cheered, pumping his fists in joy. "Won't you like that, Cae? Getting to hang out with friends?"

"Friends," mumbled Caesar with a tip of his head, as a smile crept across his smooth, clay face.

"I would love that very much indeed."

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

(Previous Chapter)

(Next Chapter)

[curly-bangtan]

Heatwave Drabble #4: like a best friend

[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles] <- have to read first

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: You and Taehyung run into his infamous cheating ex, only for him to introduce you as his current girlfriend. As you play along with his narrative, you can’t help but feel insecure and jealous.

Genre: drabble, very fluffy, angst, f2l, bit of fake dating

Warnings: typical emotional constipation from these two, jealous!oc, heartbreakingly boyfriend!taehyung, indirect confession that they’re both unaware of lol

Word count: 5.8k

A/N: Oh look, more jealousy? Are we even surprised at this point?? Requested by my little muffin @taexxxiiaa. Sorry to all the Heatwave fans for this constant torture of unresolved feelings. 

.

Taehyung has a habit of stuffing his face with too much food and consequently eating in pout. As he is doing right now. You watch him merrily wolf down another soy sauce-dipped slice of raw salmon and stack the miniature plate with the rest of his conquests. It’s his sixth plate.

When he’d first shown you the email he received for ‘all you can eat' sushi, your response was a firm “No.” You’re not even a fan of seafood in general, let alone raw fish. But Taehyung was persistent, insisting on what a bargain it is and how it’s sushi season right now. Sushi season, what bullshit. Another “No.” Yet when Taehyung has his eyes set on something, especially when it comes to food, there’s little that can stop him. He knows how to use his assets - batting is lashes, huffing like a baby, nuzzling into your neck - until you finally let out a defeated sigh.

So here you are, plotting how best to sneak in some wasabi into his food. This wimp has a full on breakdown at the slightest taste of spice, you can just envision his face when the wasabi burns up his nostrils and through to his ears.

That will teach him not to drag you out to sushi again.

“Why aren’t you eating your udon?” Taehyung’s eyes are wide and innocent, unsuspecting of your mischievou scheme. “Too hot?”

“Yeah, don’t want to burn my tongue.” You stir your steaming noodles, smiling to yourself.

The two of you had managed to secure a four-person booth due to his non-stop nagging to come early to avoid the queue. The restaurant is now bustling with customers and stressed waiters, the smell of Japanese food infused in the warm air. You’re both sat on one couch, while sat across you is another couple who are just finishing with their lunch. This arrangement is due to the busy demand of the restaurant, squeezing in however many impatient hungry people as they can. Though you didn’t have a problem with sharing a booth with strangers at first, Taehyung’s ravenous gorging of sushi after sushi has made you particularly self conscious.

As soon as the couple leave after paying their bill, you turn to hiss at Taehyung. “Why are you eating like that?”

“Like what?” His words are barely audible with his mouth full. “Are you gonna eat your udon or not? I can help you out if you can’t finish the whole thing.”

Ah, there it is, his infamous line - I can help you out if you can’t finish the whole thing.

Honestly, his appetite is abominable.

“Order your own udon!” You begin eating your noodles to prove that you are hungry, and you will finish the whole thing.

Taehyung tucks his hair behind his ear (you’ve recently noticed that his ears are abnormally big, which you guess explains the massive dick). Just a few days ago, you had managed to convince him to get a perm. The main selling point was: ‘all the bitches will go crazy for it, trust me’. Bitches being you.  And indeed, all the bitches are crazy for it. In the timespan at which you’ve been in this restaurant alone, you’ve caught almost every single girl checking him out, eyes flickering too often towards your booth for it to be coincidental.

When their eyes fell onto you, you would smile at them politely, yet to your surprise, they’d wear a sour expression and ignore your courtesy. You soon realised that they think you’re Taehyung’s girlfriend. Girlfriend! The thought had made you shudder and scoot further away from him.

“Nah, I need to save room for the sushi, baby.” He pats his stomach that remains annoyingly flat despite his feasting. “I need to pee, I’ll be right back. Can you order some more California Rolls and the Dragon Roll please? Oh, actually, and one more Soft Shell Crab Roll and a Tempura Shrimp as well please?”

You glare hard at his back as he scuttles out the booth and hurries to the toilet. Stupid dork. It’s only noon and he has already eaten a whole day’s worth of food. He’s going to end up vomiting his guts out if he keeps at this rate.

Still, you wave the waiter over and place his order for him. The waiter’s kind of cute, he’s got that soft wholesome look, the kind of boy you bring home to your parents. You wonder why he’s avoiding your eye and not slipping you his number. You hope it’s not because he thinks you’re with Taehyung.

A new pair of customers are being ushered to your booth across from you to replace the departed couple; it’s two pleasant looking girls this time, chatting away in blithe. This time, they reciprocate your smile with nods of their own.

Taehyung returns from the bathroom shortly, yet as he approaches your booth, he halts in his step so abruptly that you spin to face him.

“Ryujin?” The shock in his voice is unmistakable. His eyes are locked on one of the girls that’s just arrived opposite you. Static.

“Taehyung?” She gasps, returning the same surprise, pupils widening.

Ryujin? Taehyung’s never mentioned a Ryujin to you before? Who is she?

Taehyung’s face is stoic, completely stripped of its normal cheeriness. Lips pressed in a thin line, jaw screwed firmly shut. Shit… You turn to assess the girl, digging through your memory for a Ryujin, yet failing. Who the hell is she to have Taehyung react in such a way? If she were just a friend, he’d be rushing over to greet her. If she were someone he slept with, he’d subtly acknowledge her but make no big deal out of it.

Instead, he’s clenching his fists, feet planted an arm’s length away from your table.

You clear your throat, snapping him out of his trance. “You know each other?”

Finally, he glances over at you for the first time in what feels like ages. And right away, you see the disorientation in his eyes. Taehyung slowly makes his way back into the booth, sliding in beside you until your legs touch.

“Yeah, she’s my ex girlfriend.”

Oh.

Oh.

That cheating bitch.

If it weren’t for the firm hand placed quickly on your thigh as if he’d known you’d react in such manner, you would have leapt up and started screaming at her. The anger is rushing to your head all at once. You’re struggling not to chuck the stack of plates at her face.

So this is the girl who had broken Taehyung’s heart. This is the girl who gave Taehyung trust issues. But also, this is the girl who lead to you and Taehyung meeting. In every way you look at it, she is the reason why you’re in each other’s lives in the first place. So you guess you owe her a thank you after you throw a drink at her.

Taehyung doesn’t speak much about her, or at all. It’s been years since their relationship anyway, and since all his ties to her have been cut, it makes perfect sense that he’s forgotten about her. Even at the beginning, he was adamant about not thinking about her, he said it had hurt too much to even say her name. And so you were always careful about not bringing the topic up in conversation; it was none of your business anyway, it wasn’t relevant to his life anymore. There were occasional jokes here and there, but only ever made by him, and even still, you could sense the underlying hurt.

“Taehyung, it’s been so long…” Her attention was utterly transfixed on Taehyung. You might as well have been a cardboard cutout for all that matters, she wouldn’t have noticed anyway. But it must be bewildering to run into your ex who you cheated on like this. Anyone would be thrown off.

What are the chances that, not only did you come to the same all-you-can-eat-sushi place, but have also been sat on the same booth? Just your luck.

Your eyes wander back to Taehyung, fearing for his current state of mind. Your roommate is an emotional guy, as much as he likes to mask it in ridiculous humour. It would not surprise you if he just stands up and leave right now, even with his food on its way. Yet his features are calm, unbothered, his initial surprise melting away to neutrality.

“Hm… Yeah.” He doesn’t ask how she fares as she’d expected, you can see the disappointed drop in her face at his apathetic souciance. Then he turns to you. “Did you order the stuff?”

Unsure of how to interpret his sudden maturity, you just nod slowly. Quiet Taehyung is scary…

Disregarding her friend’s apparent discomfort, Ryujin presses on. “It must have been, what, more than two years now? How are you?”

Why can’t this bitch take a hint? Just shut the fuck up and order your fucking sushi. Leave him alone.

But Taehyung remains unmoved. While you are the one quietly fuming in the corner. Sensing your aggravation, he brushes his thumb on your thigh soothingly. When you lock eyes again, you’re stunned to find him completely at ease, the corner of his mouth even perking up to reassure you that he’s fine.

“I’m doing well actually.” Ryujin frowns again at his short answer. You think she’s going to give up now, but then she continues.

“You look good.” You tense. Oh don’t she dare... “I’m not doing too bad myself, I-”

Just then, the waiter cuts off the monologue she was headed towards as he brings over the plates of food you’d ordered for Taehyung. His eyes immediately flash in excitement, resuming his usual childish manner as he peels his hand from your leg and snatches his chopsticks.

“Can I get anything for you two ladies?” The waiter asks Ryujin and her companion, whose face appears flushed from the awkwardness of this situation. Ryujin, evidently annoyed by the interruption, proceeds to order.

While her attention is diverted, you quickly take this opportunity to mouth to Taehyung, “you okay?”

Striking you with an honest smile as he swallows his sushi, he nods. “Yeah, don’t worry, completely fine. Eat your udon, or it’ll get cold.” His voice is hushed, and you don’t know why you get startled when he leans closer to whisper to you.

Not entirely convinced, it’s your turn to pat his leg, almost subconsciously, as if to make sure that this really is Taehyung, your Taehyung. How is he this calm right now? Well, he’s always been a silent sulker when he’s mad, but… He doesn’t even seem one bit troubled by the sudden appearance of his ex. Not even that eyebrow twitch he gets when he’s annoyed. And in the meantime, you’re silently plotting how to magically get wasabi in this bitch’s eye.

When the waiter leaves, Ryujin turns back to Taehyung once again, scanning his ethereal features and beautifully curled long hair. No doubt regretting her shitty decision of infidelity when they were together. Finally, her eyes flicker over to you, for the first time since Taehyung’s arrival. “So who’s thi-”

“Y/N, my girlfriend.”

You choke so hard on the fat noodle you are slurping that some of the savoury broth goes up your nose. Wheezing and spluttering for air like a cat choking on a hairball, you feel all your blood rush to your reddening face, both from the lack of air and the embarrassment. Taehyung’s careless whacks between your shoulder blades isn’t helping at all. Only after downing the whole cup of green tea does your coughing finally subside.

“You okay, babe?” Taehyung realises his smacks on your back are too harsh to be boyfriend-like, so he eases it into gentle rubs. But the concern in his large brown irises are genuine nonetheless.

You glare at him. Long, hard. Before nodding and flashing him a sickly-sweet smile. Oh boy, is he going to get kicked in the ass later for putting you up to this. He seems to see the dangerous flare of your nostrils, a warning sign that he has really, most fucking definitely, made the wrong move. He gulps and smiles back nervously.

Girlfriend? Girlfriend?!

What the fuck is he playing at right now? Why did he have to lie to her like that? Is he trying to make her jealous? Or just act like he’s moved on just fine without her? You clamp your mouth shut to prevent any angry words from tumbling out. There’s nothing to do but to play along right now - there’s an enemy to face.

“Oh right, girlfriend…” Ryujin says so softly that you almost feel bad for her before remembering that this is her own doing. “I guess that must be why you haven’t replied to my text asking you to meet up then… Right?”

At that, your entire body goes rigid.

She- Does that mean- Wh-

You look over at Taehyung, mouth hanging open in utter disbelief. Ryujin has been texting Taehyung. And he hasn’t mentioned a word about it to you. Although it really shouldn’t affect you so much, it feels like a stab of betrayal.

His lips are pursed again, as he gazes up at her reluctantly. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Then his arm circles around your back and pulls you into him, fingers gripping your waist in a display of possession. At the unforeseen momentum, and still in your state of shock, your frame falls feebly into his chest. Your heart leaps to your throat. You don’t understand why but… your cheeks feel hot.

His arm, around you. His hand, holding your side. His neck, pressed on your forehead.

You’re hyper aware of everywhere he is touching you. Why, all of a sudden?

“Oh okay, um, I really wish you all the best…” Ryujin mumbles, no longer looking at you and Taehyung anymore, not sounding one bit like she means what she’s saying. Her friend beside her has resorted to scrolling through her phone at this point, cringing from this awkward exchange.

“Thanks, Ryujin. I’m really happy - never been happier in my life, in fact.” The vibration of Taehyung’s Adam’s apple reverberates into you as he tugs you even closer, arm fastened around your middle. You struggle for room, bending your neck to peer up at him from your squished position.

He’s grinning radiantly at you, and at your wide-eyed confused expression, he can’t help but lean down to press his lush warm lips onto your forehead.

You blink.

Truly, you think your brain has stopped functioning. What is going on?

He’s definitely doing this to make Ryujin jealous. That is the only plausible explanation. It makes your chest clench in bitterness. Why does he still care what she thinks? This is completely unnecessary. Does he still care about her?

And why didn’t he tell you that she was texting him?

What has she been telling him?

All this doubt, this uncertainty, manifests into a suffocating lump in your throat. You have always been completely open and honest with each other about every aspect of your lives - family, friends, work, grades, relationships, sex. Not that he owes it to you to tell you everything, but you’d just thought that it was how things worked between you. What else is he hiding from you?

But at the same time, your focus can’t stray from the way he is holding you, and the confidence in his tone. How certain and sincere he sounded. And how he pecked you so casually in public, in front of everyone. Your stomach feels funny.

As you resume your eating, you stay quiet, thinking. On the other hand, Taehyung is quiet due to fact that he has no room to speak in between engulfing California Roll after California Roll. Happily humming under his breath as he chews. The waiter returns with a tray of food Ryujin and her friend had ordered. “Here you go, would you like some green tea?”

“Oo, can you fill mine up too please.” You hastily pass him your empty ceramic cup.

“Of course. Be careful, the tea is very ho-” Just as he warns you while he refills your cup, he over-tips the pot and sends scalding tea all over your hand.

“Ow!” Quickly drawing back your boiled hand out of instinct, you yelp out in pain. Fumbling over his sorry, I’m so so sorry’s, the waiter bows his deeply apologetically, scurrying to clean up the steaming spilled liquid in a panic.

“Mate, watch out!” Taehyung sits up immediately, scrambling to wipe your soaked hand with tissues. The glare he throws the waiter could cut through glass. “Are you okay?” The concern clouding his eyes when he faces you floods your veins with a security.

“Yeah… Don’t worry, it’s just a burn.” You watch him examine your hand intently as if it’s some ancient priceless artefact that could shatter from a poke; you’ve noticed lately that he tends to do this when you’re injured. With his fringe frizzed over his forehead, lips puckered in concentration as he caress over your pink tender skin, you are helpless and unmoving. Staring at him.

“Are you sure? It’s getting kind of red…” He refuses to let your hand go. Your fingers scorch under his touch and it’s not from the tea.

“Yeah, baby, I’m fine.” Taehyung’s head whips up instantly at the way you address him. Confused for a good second, before realising that it is to play along with the fake girlfriend narrative.

Right…

Reluctantly, he lets you pull your hand out of his clutch, and only when you pick up your chopsticks to prove to him that it’s only a minor injury does he resign in his coddling and return to his food. As you glance up, you notice Ryujin’s blazing glower at your direction. You quickly look away.

In the presence of his cheating ex-girlfriend, you two no longer feel at ease to banter away as normal. You aren’t even at the liberation to have a regular conversation without her listening in on everything. So the meal passes rather wordlessly.

However, the silence births a different kind of interaction between you and Taehyung. You can’t tell if it’s just for show, or due to his innate affectionate nature, but he suddenly feels the need to display his love for skinship. Under the table, his hand once again strays to the land of your thighs, gently stroking. When you shoot him a warning glare, lest he gets any vulgar ideas, you find that he possesses no lustful intent at all. Just pure fondness for you.

Something inside you softens. You’re starting to think that he isn’t acting out of spite against Ryujin, but rather simply enjoying your company as usual.

But you know what? Screw that bitch. Not once, to your knowledge, did she apologise to Taehyung when she’s had two years to own up to her mistakes. Not until now, of all times. She deserves to get riled up.

“Taehyung-ie, can I have a bite of your shrimp?” You smile at your pretend-boyfriend sweetly. He gives you a perplexed look that says: But I thought you hate shrimp? before he clocks on with your intention.

“Of course, baby.” And without fail, just like a scene straight from a drama, he picks up the tempura shrimp and feeds it to you, eyes crescent in mirth as you open up and take a mouthful like a hungry little child. You feel a crumb flake away onto your chin, yet before you can wipe it away, Taehyung reaches it first. Chuckling, he sweeps the small speck into your mouth. But not without the slightest, most fleeting, brush of his thumb against your tongue.

The action feels… intimate. Like weirdly intimate, even for you and Taehyung’s dynamic.

Why does your breath keep hitching?

Perhaps after a second too long, you conjure a giggle in response, attentive of Ryujin’s gawk in your periphery. “Thanks, love.” The syrup in your voice is sickly sweet. God, even you want to barf.

“You’re too adorable, honey buns.” Taehyung cups your face in one hand, fingers digging into your squishy cheeks as he shakes you. Your smile drops. Adorable? Honey buns? HoNEy bUnS? Kim Taehyung is so dead.

But before you could kick him in the shin under the table, he leans in and plants his lips on yours. Soft, supple.

Oh.

Just as you think it’s only meant to be a peck, he deepens the kiss, his plump pink mouth gliding over yours smoothly. Anyone who sees would know that you’re accustomed to such action with each other from the natural comfortable manner of your kiss. Anyone could tell that you’re used to each other’s lips.

You pull away abruptly when you become conscious of many’s attention on you. With your face so near his, all you can see is how his lips draw into a smirk.

It’s unusual for you two to kiss outside of a sexual context. Because why would you? Friends don’t kiss each other unless they’re: A) dating, or B) banging. And especially in the past few weeks, you’ve been progressively kissing each other less, even during sex. Almost as if you’ve both realised how intimate it is, and all the romantic connotations that come with it.

Yet here he is, kissing you so openly in public.

Yeah, it’s just for show for his ex. But it’s still…

You don’t know.

.

After Taehyung had finally eaten to his heart’s content, the two of you had gone to study in the library. Ryujin wore a sour face in the entire duration of the meal, and you would hear low grunts of irritation from her direction. You practically felt her venomous glare on the back of your head as you were leaving the restaurant. Acting has never been your strong suit, but even you’ll admit that the two of you are putting on an Oscar-worthy performance.

You’ve been quiet, you know. It’s because of that bitter taste in the back of your throat that you still can’t get rid of at the thought that Taehyung might still care about Ryujin. Why else would he lie to her and say that you’re his girlfriend if not to get a reaction out of her?

But more so, why does it bother you so much? You wish you don’t care this much for this stupid sushi-demolisher who doesn’t deserve your time and efforts. He’s probably thinking about his next meal again while you’re here lamenting over your weird feelings.

So you keep your mouth shut throughout your study session, brewing in your acrid thoughts.

Taehyung watches you nibble at the end of your pen. How is he supposed to focus on his coursework when you’ve got that pouty expression? And since when did you not take every chance you get to take the piss out of him? He wonders what’s going on in your head.

Seeing Ryujin had been a shock, a blast from the past. It hadn’t bothered him too much to be honest, he simply doesn’t care about her anymore. A few days ago, she had sent him a message out of the blue. Out of politeness, he’d responded but kept his replies brief; it was difficult to decipher her intention at first, but it soon revealed itself. Apparently, her and Jimin went on to date for a while - good on them, Taehyung truly could not give fewer shits anymore. But their relationship deteriorated due to their incompatibility, which was predictable knowing them both. It was when she started showing interest in Taehyung, apologising and kissing his ass about how good he was to her that he decided to stop answering.

The thought of getting back with her gave him shivers.

Your reaction to Ryujin back there wasn’t unexpected at all, of course you weren’t going to react mildly to his ex. Taehyung is lucky you didn’t ‘accidentally’ spill soy sauce onto her, or start yelling at her about faithfulness and morality. Your wrath towards her actually kind of warms his heart…

You aren’t one to talk about your feelings openly, but your actions definitely speak volumes about how much you care about him.

Taehyung smiles to himself.

There is so much loyalty between the two of you, complete trust and devotion. At the end of the day, no matter what goes on between you when you’re horny fuckers, you’re best friends above all else. Fighters for each other.

Your journey back home was also rather mute, consisting of him prodding you with jokes and teases, and you putting on a half-hearted smile. Maybe you’re annoyed at him for putting you on the spot and leaving you with no choice but to cooperate as his pretend girlfriend. All this relationship-y commitment-y crap repels the shit out of you. Basically the bane of your existence.

He probably shouldn’t have kissed and coddled you that much in front of Ryujin. You detest PDA like it’s some scandalous taboo, despite being the freakiest girl he knows in the sheets. But hey, you guys had to make it convincing and believable...

Yup, the more Taehyung thinks about it, the more he’s sure you’re annoyed (or even scared off) about the fake dating thing.

“You’re quiet for someone who just met her supposed archnemesis. I thought you’d be going on and on about what a bitch she is.” He glances at your sullen side profile for the hundredth time during your commute home.

“I don’t know, not it a great mood I guess? Probably just tired.” You mumble, searching for your keys in your coat pocket. The weather is getting cold these days; Taehyung knows your fingers are very prone to freezing, especially with your refusal of wearing gloves because ‘they’re ugly’ nor would you keep your hands in your pockets because ‘it’s a safety hazard incase you trip over’.

He gets a strangely overwhelming urge to hold your hands every time he sees you wiggling your fingers to warm them up. Hmm.

Wordlessly, you enter the house with him trailing behind you. He watches your moody steps from behind as you remove your shoes and head inside. Why can’t you just tell him what you’re thinking?

With a great sigh, Taehyung slumps onto the couch, focus still on you hanging your coat on the rack and tossing your keys into the holder on the shelf. “Hey.”

You turn, regarding his wide manspread with piqued interest. “What?”

“Come here, baby, sit on my lap.” He pats the top of his thighs in beckoning. Sometimes it’s like trying to get a stray cat to come to him.

Your eyes widen at his request. But very reluctantly, you stroll towards him until you’re standing between his extended legs. “Why are you calling me baby, we’re not pretending to be dating anymore.”

Taehyung stiffens as he senses the acrimony in your tone. So this is about the girlfriend thing? It’s a risky move but he sits up and pulls you in by the back of your thighs until you have no choice but to succumb to falling onto his hips. Lips still in a tight line, your limbs come around him to hold yourself upright. In order to prevent you from escaping, Taehyung encloses his arms around your waist, trapping you in his embrace. He tries not to think about how your crotch is directly on his right now.

“Why you sad?” He looks up at you, your eyes unreadable as always. Heat from your exhale fans his forehead.

“I don’t know. Nan molla.” You shrug and do that face scrunch thing you do whenever you’re unsure that he loves. It makes you look so cute.

“Hey…” Taehyung nudges your cheek with his nose in an attempt to get you to look at him. You have a habit of avoiding eye contact, and he knows it’s stems from the intimacy issue. “What’s up, honey buns?”

“Honey buns again? Seriously?” You jerk away from him like he insulted your mother or something.

“Well, since I can’t call you baby, honey buns it is.” His chest vibrates with his deep rumbling laughter, pleased with himself to see the slightest hint of a smile finally beginning to appear on you.

“Oh my god, Taehyung. Fine, just stick with baby, I swear…” You thump him on the back, yet your stone cold exterior now being invaded by a spark of humour.

“Good. Now tell me what’s wrong, baby.”

You’re quiet for a good few seconds, contemplating. Your legs around his torso tense, you bite your lip hesitantly. Come on, just talk to me, he wishes.

“Do you still… care about her?” Voice so soft that even he struggles to hear you this close.

“What? Ryujin?” Oh, so this is about her. Taehyung knew you hated her, but never thought that you would feel… insecure? Jealous, even? “Of course not. I don’t give a single fuck about her.” At his answer, you let out the breath you’ve been holding. A breath of relief? “But you clearly seem to care too much about her.”

“I- I do not!” In a tone of disbelief, you scorn. “I just- She’s not the one I care about.”

Fuck, you’re being too cute right now.

Taehyung pecks at your chin, unable to contain his affection anymore. You continue, “Plus, why didn’t you tell me she was talking to you again? Friends tell each other this sort of thing. I always tell you everything…”

The worry on your face is truly so endearing, he feels his chest constrict.

“I didn’t mention it because that’s how little I care. She is honestly so insignificant to me right now, I could not even be bothered to waste my breath bringing it up. Yes, she meant a lot to me for a period of my life. But. That was a long time ago. I’ve moved on, no thanks to you, remember?” Your eyes gradually dare loiter up his face. “You silly sausage.”

“But-” You’re pouting again. You need to stop pouting or he won’t be able to control himself, dammit. “Why did you lie and say I’m your girlfriend then, if you weren’t doing it to make her jealous.”

Taehyung blinks. Well… Um, about that... He didn’t want to have to explain it to you but...

“It just slipped out.”

Your turn to blink vacantly. Taehyung feels blood tinting his cheeks under your gaze. Even he doesn’t know why he said it back then. It just kind of… rolled off his tongue. Should he be worried? Yeah, he should definitely be worried.

When you still fail to say anything, he hurriedly asks, “Are you mad?”

“N-No. Why would I be mad?” The way your arm slides down his neck to brush pass his chest leaves his skin tingling. He pulls your legs closer around him, hand unintentionally trailing to your rear.

“I don’t know, you just hate that kind of lovey-dovey stuff. Just figured that you’d be annoyed that I forced you to act like my girlfriend.”

“Well, I was a bit annoyed… It’s not just me, you hate that kind of lovey-dovey stuff too!” Well, not exactly accurate, but Taehyung decides not to correct you. “But did you see her face?” Your tone begins to lighten. Remembering the acerbity tainting Ryujin’s features brings you amusement.

“She looked like she was going to murder someone.” You both laugh.

“She was thirsting over you like a hound, Jesus Christ. It’s because of your perm, trust me.” Grinning, you twirl his curly fringe around your fingers. You seem to do that quite often since he got the new hairstyle.

“Wow, you really like my perm that much?” He fishes, failing to control his forming smirk. You like to give him shit about his ego, yet no one strokes it more than you do.

“No comment.” You can’t contain your radiant smile either. Taehyung makes a mental note to keep the perm.

Seeing your mood lifted makes Taehyung feel much better, safer. His arms run up your back, and he feels you shudder under his touch. You fit into his embrace so well; it’s difficult to not hug you close to him every chance he gets nowadays. There’s a dull ache in the back of his neck from craning up to look at you for too long, but he doesn’t mind it. Your fingers fall from his hair, tracing his jaw frivolously, mindlessly. It leaves an unwarranted tremble within him.

“Look, there’s absolutely nothing for you to mull about in that overthinking head of yours. I don’t even remember Ryujin’s last name if I’m being honest with you. She lost me the moment she broke my heart, and I’ll never even remotely consider getting back with her. Ever. I promise.

“So don’t act all jealous and sulky just ‘cause you misunderstood. You’re my best girl. You’ll always be my best, favourite and only girl, understand? I, Kim Taehyung, belong to you, Y/N Y/L/N. Period.” The smile of satisfaction tells him everything. You’re not as hard to please as you appear to be. “I’m yours, happy?”

“Happy.” Fuck, Taehyung’s heart is going to explode from the joyous beam growing at your lips.

“Good, because she means nothing to me at all. But you, Ms. Needy-But-I-Won’t-Admit-It? You mean everything to me. Everything.” He bounces you on his lap for emphasis, eliciting another buoyant giggle from you.

Then you do something that you don’t normally do.

You kiss him - passionately and ardently. Fingers surfing the waves of his hair, you readjust your straddling position on top of him to minimise the distance. Taehyung feels all reason in his head incrementally ebbing away. You shouldn’t be kissing, you really shouldn’t. It’s not normal to make out with your best friend. But fuck the rules. Taehyung doesn’t want to stop kissing you right now, his silly adorable honey buns.

“Just admit it. You love me.” He taunts between breaths. You freeze at Taehyung’s words. Completely freeze on his lap, hand dangling from his face, as if you’ve been shot. “Like a best friend.” You deflate, evident relief at the joke.

Taehyung has to restrain from laughing out loud. God, you’re such an easy target. The second anything one step further from platonism is suggested, you act like you’re going to pack your bags and run for the hills. But here you are, kissing him and acting all possessive. He enjoys the irony.

“Yeah I love you. Like a best friend.” You flick the tip of his nose in reprimand for his teasing.

“Good because I love you too. Like a best friend.” He holds you tight against him, proceeding to blow raspberries in your neck.

Maybe even more, he wonders.

.

27/11/19

© Copyright 2019

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