#customers keep asking me for recommendations and it’s like girl go somewhere else this place sucks :

[im-still-watching-anime]

turns out i am NOT immune to mob mentality because i keep seeing people order stuff on our menu and convincing myself i would like it because! look how popular it is!! it HAS to be good! and then it simply is not no matter how many times i try it

[script-nef]

Compensation | Gojou Satoru

Category: fluff

3k words; Dinner date [5/6]

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The door clicks behind you as you retire into your room after another day of work. Fatigue aches at your bones and the bed is soft underneath as you flop onto it. Investing in a cushiony blanket and mattress is probably one of the best decisions you made in your life. If not the best. 

Drifting away into dreamland sounds amazing. If not for All Might.

“A text is here!” 

“Toshinori…” Even though your favourite character is Hawks, there’s no way you’re not setting Yagi as your ringtone. Groaning, you blindly reach for the phone while not moving your smushed face. Comfort prioritises over the ability to breathe. 

Gojou: Hey! T minus an hour to our reservation! Get ready!

Ah, this. Gojou has made good on his promise to make up for the dinner you missed thanks to his theatrics. Something bubbles in your chest.

Since the beach incident, which ended fine with everyone happy and well-rested, something shifted. In the relationship between you and Gojou. Tensing in the neck, quicker palpitation sometimes. Like the feeling you had when you went on that flight to Shinjuku and also at the beach. Repetition is making it concerning. Maybe a trip to Shouko is overdue.

Gojou: Wear smth nice! Me: ? What? Gojou: They have a policy about ties n dresses or smth. Or we can show up in jeans n see how they react! Me: Let’s not. Gojou: K then! C you in 56 mins ;)

There it is again, the bubbles. Shaking your head to dislodge the feeling, you get ready for dinner.

Joints pop as you rise, lazily gathering towels and clothes. Something nice. If it’s a place with attire regulations, it must be pretty high-class. Or maybe he’s just messing with you to see what you would wear. Better not take any chances. 

Thirty minutes and your muscles are much looser thanks to the hot water. The fragrant smell of your shampoo and body wash puts you in a good mood as well. You quickly slip into a dress, a present Gojou got for you some time ago. It’s a soft and flowy one with intricate snowflakes decorating the ends. It became one of your favourites pretty quickly. 

Rhythmic knocks on the door alert you of Gojou’s arrival just as you’re done drying your hair. After checking in the mirror to see if everything is fine, you open your room door.

The only thing same about him from his usual self is the hair and smile. His casual outfit is replaced with a black suit, presumably the one he bought weeks ago when he tagged along with you to buy Ken-chan a present. Somehow it looks better on him now than it did before. Probably the antique hallway lighting than the department one, it just gives him a more cozy vibe. The blindfold is gone, replaced by sunglasses. His gorgeous irises are still hidden from your view. He cleans up well. 

“M’lady.” Bowing slightly, he stretches his hand out for you to take. You oblige with a giggle. The whole gentleman thing is cute.

“You’re on time for once! No, wait, you’re early!” Time seems to elude Gojou all the time. In the years you’ve known him, he’s never come to a meeting on time, let alone early. Especially ones about him by the higher-ups. There was one time where he didn’t even bother to come but Masamichi-san dragged him by the ear. Unfortunately, there’s no photographic proof which could have been used to mock him with.

“Of course I’ll come on time. Oh, you’re wearing the dress I bought you!” Gentleman vibe goes out the window, him returning to his hyperactive self. It’s still pretty cute. Where the hell is this coming from? There’s a constricting feeling in your throat. 

“Oh, you’ve never seen me wear it. It’s one of my favourites now, and I thought you’d like to see it. What do you think?” By now you’re out in the courtyard, illuminated under the moon. Skipping up ahead, you spin a bit, letting the dress flow out. He doesn’t say anything for a while. “Gojou?”

“You look beautiful.”

“Eh?”

“You look… beautiful.”

The softness in his voice catches you off guard. You stop in your track, the clothing falling and resting against your legs. This is a Gojou you haven’t met before, one with such sincerity and tenderness. He steps up, taking one of your hands in his. Something tingles inside your stomach, like fireflies buzzing around and lighting it up with warmth. What’s happening right now?

“I mean it. You’re dazzling.” 

Fire burns under your skin, originating from where he’s holding you and threatens to consume your entire body. The flutter in your stomach is nothing compared to this. Time stops. The only thing you can hear is his breathing and your heart beating. 

Moonlight cascades over him, showering him in an ethereal glow. Snow white hair shines brilliantly and something seizes at your throat. He slowly lowers his lips to meet with the back of your hand, pressing a light yet somehow heavy kiss. 

You're not moving. Not breathing. It feels like you're standing on a sheet-thin glass, a bottomless abyss underneath you. If you move even a centimeter, take even the slightest of breathes, the moment will break and you'll plummet down. 

Lungs scream at you to breathe. You can't. Not while he's still holding your hand with such gentle sincerity. Heat travels to every cell in your body and the flicker inside your stomach gets unbearable. 

The moment finally ends when his lips detach from your hand. Air slowly returns as he runs his fingers over your knuckles. When he peers down at you, there's just a momentary flash of piercing blue behind his sunglasses that makes your breath hitch. 

"Shall we go?" 

Shooting you a sweet smile, he doesn't let go of your hand and marches on forward. You barely remember to keep up, brain scrambled and chest exploding.

“This is an exclusive place. How did you get reservations this fast?”

“My stunning good looks!”

“Gojou.” 

“Apparently someone cancelled their reservations. Looks and luck. What don’t I have?”

“Humility.

“That cuts me, [Name].”

Stifling laughter, you look out of the window and onto the street. A few weeks ago the view would have been amazing, but now that you’ve experienced flying, nothing measures up to it. There hasn’t been another flight break as you couldn’t bring yourself to ask him for one, since he was so busy, but the exhilaration of the trip never quite left your body. 

When you turn your attention back to him, there’s a lit candle on the table and Gojou’s resting his head on his hand, staring at you. The intensity can be felt over his sunglasses.

“What’s up with the candlelight?”

“No idea.”

Attempts for small talk are useless. A silence sits in the air. Not the comfortable kind that you normally have with him, working in your office while he takes a nap on the sofa nearby. Or the one when he unceremoniously interrupts a break in the garden by coming up and resting his head on your lap, enjoying a soak in the sun with you. Or when you’re eating in the cafeteria together.

Something is just off here. It might be because of… his act earlier. Just thinking about it is enough to bring the blush back. But no, it's more to do with this place. It's much nicer than your school, expensive chandeliers and tablecloths, the air of refinery that everyone else naturally oozes. But it’s distant, detached. It doesn’t suit you or him. Eventually, you break.

“Why did you bring me here?” The smile disappears off of Gojou’s face and his brow scrunches in confusion.

“I thought girls liked this kind of thing!”

"Well, yeah, it’s exclusive for a reason. But I… don’t feel comfortable here. I’m grateful that you brought me here, and I appreciate all the effort you put into this to secure a place for us. It’s just that this feels way too serious to make up for a missed meal. I feel terrible that you went through all that trouble for me. I’m fine with somewhere more casual and comfortable, not the most expensive place you can take me.”

“You think this is the most expensive place I can take you? I’m wounded.” Gojou grips at his heart but the easy-going smile tells a different story. You give him a tentative smile back, worried he might be offended underneath his smile.

“Unless you want to stay here? I’m fine with that as well, this is completely up to you.”

“Nope, it’s up to you. Wanna head out then?” He holds his hand out again. You take it without a second thought. 

“Where is this?”

“My favourite restaurant! They have the best dango for dessert. And of course, the main menus are good as well.” He’s so consistent. 

Customers and chefs alike stare at you two when you walk in. Which is expected when Gojou’s dressed in an immaculate designer suit that’s in complete contrast to the humble and cozy interior of the shop. Some avert their gaze when they realise they’re being rude, but you can see them sneaking a peek from the corners of their eyes. You’re not dressed up as Gojou is, but mortification still flushes your cheeks. It gets worse when he guides you over to a table, leading you to a table by hugging you from behind. This never bothered you before so why is it affecting you so much now?

“Here you go.” He pushes a chair back for you to sit in. A server greets you with a smile, handing over the menu then disappears again. “Is this place better?”

It really is. Spices and the smell of broth leak into the eating areas, triggering your taste buds and causing you to salivate. People chatter and yell and cheer, the cacophony of noises filling the place with livelihood unlike the cold silence of the previous restaurant. This is somehow more peaceful. A smile blooms on your face. 

“This is perfect.” 

The rest of the night is smooth sailing. Gojou knows your taste in food perfectly, expertly recommending which ones to try out. The food is impeccable and the dangos are exquisite, the perfect blend of sweet and chewy. Conversation flows easily once you’re comfortable and blocking out whatever the courtyard thing was. 

He's been away for a while due to a sudden influx in curses so it's nice to have some quality time together like this. With your belly full and warmth spreading over your body, you were ready to hit the sack. 

That is, if he didn’t offer sake to end the night. 

“Hmmm sleepy…” Alcohol doesn’t taste nice. Fuzziness takes over your brain, like thoughts are all mixing with each other and the room is spinning weirdly. Closing your eyes helps. Lights are way still way too bright and it feels like sweat is pouring off you by buckets. Someone’s calling your name but the wall is so nice and cool against your blazing skin. 

“Didn’t know you’d be this much of a lightweight. Hey, hey, you with me?” Gojou’s blurry face comes into view when you open your eyes. Giggles escape you for absolutely no reason. 

“Gojou!” 

“Yes, yes, I’m here. I think you need to stop drinking. Nanami might never let me see you again.” 

“Your cheeks are so squishy!” It’s soft and smooth underneath your fingers, like he doesn’t have pores. Maybe you can’t feel pores with fingers but his skin is just that flawless. “Drop your skincare routine, baby skin.”

“You had like three cups, how are you this drunk? I already paid so let’s go back to school. Lift your arms?” You obey obediently and something warm encases you. A familiar and delightful scent assaults your nose. There’s a click, a lot of clicks, like someone’s taking a photo. You can’t be bothered looking to check. “Can you stand?”

“Mm…” 

“Guess that’s a no. Keep your eyes closed.” 

Your stomach lurches as you’re pulled onto your feet, supported by something under your arms. Cold air rushes onto your face and makes you whine. There’s a call of “thank you” which you reply in your drunken stupor with “I’ll be back!” Laughter comes somewhere from above. 

It’s dark enough outside that you can open your eyes again. Everything’s still a bit hazy but you can find your balance now.

“You think you can handle flying?” There’s really no way to tell other than to try it. So you nod.

There’s a blank memory between that decision and the moment you arrive at your doorsteps. Literally nothing. You blinked after making that choice and now you’re standing outside your room door. You would have fallen thanks to disorientation if not for Gojou supporting you by the small of your back.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” 

He stands around while you get ready to sleep, helping you tie your hair and catching you when you lose balance. After washing, you stare at him and he stares right back. The stare-off continues. He finally gets the message when you point at the dress and walks out. It’s a struggle to get out of clothes in an inebriated state but after much wrestling, you manage. 

Climbing into the bed, you’re about to actually fall asleep when there’s a knock on the door. Groans answer it because it’s way too far away. The person opposite seems to get the message and comes in. You peek and it’s Gojou with a plastic shopping bag. Sitting down and making himself comfortable on the bed, he ruffles through the bag.

“Hey, you have to drink this. It’ll help tomorrow.” He helps you sit up but pauses for a second. Your eyes flicker open. He’s looking at your body. “Are you still wearing my jacket? After you’ve changed?”

“Yup! Smells nice!” You bury your face in the lapel as if to prove a point. The grip on your arm tightens and he looks down. 

“It smells nice?” 

“Mhm. It's you. I feel like I'm being protected." He lets go of you, instead choosing to cover his face in his hands. His ears look red. Flicking it looks fun. "Gojou? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Drink the medicine." Even with your messed up, alcohol-ridden tongue, it tastes bad. Attempts at whining and escaping is futile because he's stronger than you. "There you go. Now sleep."

He helps you down this time, brushing your hair with his fingers and cleaning up after himself. It's nice and fluffy inside the covers. Gojou takes your hand again, pressing another kiss on the back of it. Shorter than the last time but the intensity hasn't changed. 

"Don't leave." It’s basically a whisper, but Gojou freezes immediately. There's no sound for a while and you can't see what's happening because of your drooping eyelids. Alcohol is great at inducing sleep. A rustling sound and his fingers interlocks with yours. 

“You want me to stay? I’d almost say you like me.” His voice is low as well, but still with a teasing lilt, like he's trying to help you fall asleep. So considerate. Always so considerate.

"Maybe." The word trails off into a mumble. Alcohol also gets rid of your filters and the understanding of when to stop talking.

"I'm sorry, what?" 

"Dunno… You're making me feel weird things…" Digging yourself further into the covers, you try to block out even the faint lamplight. Having none of that, Gojou pulls you out from the blanket cave, ignoring your whines.

"You'll suffocate in there. I'm fine with doing CPR but Nanami might not. What do you mean by 'weird things'?" 

"I don't know… There was like… this thing inside my stomach when you did the thing out in the uh… place. My insides felt itchy and weird thanks to you. Take that!" It probably could not have been more easier to catch your fist. "Noooo, you deserve to be hit! You did something to me… That's why I feel so weird when I'm around you. Ever since the beach trip… I sometimes get heart thumps when I see you… It doesn't make sense why I'm feeling this… I don't feel it with other people…" 

In an attempt to show how annoyed you are, you try to flail around on the bed but it comes out more as a tiny jiggle. Like a caterpillar. Gojou lets out a chuckle. It sounds like he’s laughing at you. Smacking him comes to mind but you’re comfortable right now so you’ll forgive him. By now you’re just mumbling into the blanket.

"Because like… it's the same. You know? This, this… whatever this is… Like in the movies, the fluffy ones. When the girl falls in love with the guy. They show like the whole thing with like the thingies… The close up, the blush, heartbeat getting quicker in the background… Thump thump, yeah? Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Silence is his answer. You know he's still there because his hand is still connected to yours.

Sleep addles your mind. There's a whole lot of words popping up, like "Gojou" and "dinner" and "date" for some reason. But it's too late and everything is shutting down. Softly, slowly, you sink into slumber.

"Gojou?" Still nothing. "Hmmm you're asleep as well, huh? That's fine, that's good. You do so much to save everyone, you deserve a break. Like a hero… So brave, so selfless… Really stupid as well, so immature… Hn, maybe I do like you…"

"Say that again?" Oh, he's back. And he's gently shaking your hand, trying to keep you awake. But your consciousness is slipping away and soon everything turns into a pleasant hum.

The last thing you feel is something soft pressing against your forehead.

Next chapter →

[ichorizaki]

heather, meet heather—n.h., d.o.

pairing     nakahara chūya x reader x dazai osamu

genre     pure angst

word count     2.2k

warnings     slight blood mention, very brief; unrequited love; love triangle; pining

a/n    my first bsd piece and it’s angst! i love that for me

synopsis     you’re watching the man that you fell in love with fall for another person, but you can’t bring yourself to hate her. chūya watches after you as you pine for an unnamed man, falling for you in the process, but could never quite bring himself to hate the man.

Some people would say that falling in love with somebody was the most blissful thing that could ever happen to you. You could feel the butterflies in your stomach, fluttering and dancing whenever the person you fancy says something that makes your heart skip a beat. You could feel the way your body reacts in order to be in tandem with them, like a waltz of two souls in a garden of fairy tales. You could feel the experience of you falling head over heels with someone in the way you keep wondering how their day was, how they smile, how their eyes light up when talking about something that they adore.

You agreed with all of that. You did feel the butterflies, your body being weird, and you catching yourself wondering if Dazai Osamu wondered about you. You were head over heels for the man who was supposed to be someone terribly feared by the Port Mafia and highly respected by the Armed Detective Agency. You were just someone who happened to be friends with Osamu himself long before his days as a member of the mafia. You never even realised that you’d fallen in love with him until the day he told you that he was in love with a woman whose name you never recognised.

Did it hurt? Of course it did. Watching the person that you fell in love with fall in love with someone else was a curse that you’d never cast even upon the worst of your enemies. You helped him with a heavy heart in executing his plan of getting to know her and eventually take her out on a date. She was just an intern in the agency, helping with the ad hoc duties and she had an abundance of opportunities to be closer to him compared to you. You were just a college graduate with a master’s working full-time as a barista in a café somewhere in the heart of Yokohama trying to make ends meet. It hurt like hell to just be the person that he seeks advice from.

Every time he talked to you, the mirth and ecstasy that swam in the deep ochre pools of his eyes made you wish that he was talking about you like that. Every time he’d begged for you and Atsushi to follow him on their dates made you throw up a little bit in your mouth. You were heartbroken. You knew that Atsushi was looking at you in pity everytime you were both dragged along. You didn’t care. Maybe if you closed your eyes and wished hard enough, the girl would disappear and you’d replace her, his strong arm wrapped around your shoulder underneath the cool November weather.

You were staring into space as you dried the glassware, the store dark with remnants of the staff clearing the trash and cleaning up the café. You didn’t quite pay attention to what you were doing, the chore but a muscle memory while you were distracted with the plaguing thoughts that intruded your mind.

The woman came into the café earlier that day. Even in the midst of the rush hour, even when her order was messed up a little bit, she was patient and kind. She wasn’t everything you wished you were, but she occupied the space in Osamu’s heart and mind. You just wanted to be that person.

Your fingers slipped when grabbing a freshly cleaned cup, the glassware tumbling from your hand and breaking into pieces upon landing in the sink. Thank god you were facing the sink and it didn’t fall on the ground. It would be such a bitch to clean up.

Your coworkers asked if you were okay and if you needed help, for you were bleeding. Wait, bleeding? In a daze, you look down to your hand and sure enough there was a cut. You were pretty sure that it was the universe telling you to move on but it was not as easy as you thought it would be.

How pathetic were you, pining after a man who saw you as nothing more but a good friend? A man who wouldn’t see you as someone he’d want to spend the rest of his life with romantically?

But you’d be the devil incarnate if you ever wished that upon her. She’s . . . perfect. As terrible as it was, you hoped for her to be a bitch beneath those layers of expensive clothes. You hoped for her to be some form of possessive asshole, but she wasn’t. She’s kind, she’s patient, she’s generous, she’s encouraging, and you couldn’t sense any form of malintent from her. Neither could Atsushi. Neither could Kunikida. Neither could Naomi. Nobody could, and that’s what had made you cry yourself to sleep for countless nights.

Then came Nakahara Chūya like an angel sent from the worst part of heaven. He came into the café on one rainy day, his dark coat dripping with the tears of the sky. It made a wet, slippery trail of droplets as he made his way across the empty café before planting himself in a seat before peeling the heavy article off of his body. You would be lying if you didn’t think he was handsome. You took the initiative to summon the mop to wipe up the mess caused by the rain.

He sheepishly apologised, asking if you had somewhere he could dry off his coat. That was the first time that your eyes had met. His were the piercing grey of hardened steel, flecks of emerald splattered around the ring of his irises, and they were the most stunning pair of eyes you’d ever seen. His eyes were a huge contrast to his appearance and his personality as a whole—cold, calm, collected—but it was nothing you ever minded. For some reason, they were just as inviting as the warm whiskey gold of Osamu’s.

Of course you said yes. There was a dryer you could toss his coat in and you could brew him a warm drink for his stay. His dampened vermillion hair fell in tight waves over his face, framing his features beautifully; a stark contrast against the pale white of his skin.

“What drink would you like? You should have something warm while waiting for the rain to stop,” you offered. He kept a watchful eye on you, admiring the way you were already retrieving a small laminated piece of paper that he assumed was the menu.

“What would you recommend? I’ve never been in this part of town.”

You hummed, deep in thought. You rested your forearms against the cool wooden countertop, eyes narrowing just the slightest as you drank in his appearance. It was just a ruse for you to fully admire how attractive he is. The way that he curiously watched you never went unnoticed, his adam’s apple bobbing ever so slightly as he placed the menu down on the countertop.

“You seem like a matcha hojicha latte kinda guy,” you declared with a decisive nod. His eyebrows lifted in amusement. “That’ll be five bucks, good sir.” You cheekily grinned at him, moving to the counter on your left. He mirrored your grin. Did he think you were going to offer him a drink on the house?

Upon making his drink, you made yourself a warm drink to combat the cold interior of the café. You took a seat next to him on the other side of the counter. Seeing how there weren’t any other customers going in or out, you grasped the opportunity to get to know about him, as he did you. He introduced himself, and then talked about his day. You noticed the little quirks that he had—how his eyebrow twitches when he’s annoyed, how he laughs obnoxiously loud and slaps his knee when something tickles him funny, how he falls quiet when it was your turn to talk and how equally observant he was to your needs.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed that the rain stopped and his coat was perfectly dry and warm. He must have noticed that your mood had dampened just the slightest despite the clearing sky and warmth flooding through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the café. Chūya, ever so chivalrous, suggested to exchange contacts to keep in touch. Who were you to disagree?

After that fateful day, Chūya had taken a liking to you. There was just something about you that kept drawing him back every time. Even when he wasn’t in the area, any time he could drop by, he would. He would always order the same thing—matcha hojicha latte and a slice of matcha azuki cake—unless you’d suggest he try something new in the menu or another cake from the selection that they had.

He couldn’t get enough of you. He was always asking you about your day, if you had any plans, what show you were currently binging, and he’d always let you rant to him about even the most menial of things. There was one time, he remembers, that you ranted to him about how you saw a stray kitten so sweet and playful that it broke your heart to leave it in the streets after feeding it and playing with it for a solid hour after your shift had ended at work. It got to the point where you were full-on bawling. You were calling him, upset, a week later, saying that the kitten that you’d named Jiji, was no longer in the back alley of the store as he used to be.

“Chūya! I can’t find Jiji!” That was the first thing that you said when he picked up the call. He was back at his sleeping quarters, phone wedged in between his ear and shoulder while he undid the buttons of his vest with one hand. His eyebrows furrowed.

“Jiji?” He echoed, shrugging off the vest. He heard a sound of confirmation from you. Chūya sat down on his bed, grabbing his phone to hold it carefully against his ear so he could solely focus on you.

“The cat living in the back alley of the café,” you elaborated breathlessly. Oh. “He’s not here. What if someone took him?” You sighed heavily and he could hear you planting yourself down on the cobblestone floor. Traffic could be heard farther away from your side of the call, but it was nothing he minded because it made sure that you were in a public place and you were somewhat safe.

“If someone took him, that would be a good thing, wouldn’t it?” He tried to reason, the image of the calico—cleaned, vaccinated, sterilised, and happily roaming the halls of the building—appearing in his mind. Yep, he was the culprit. “That means that someone’s caring for him. He’s got a bed to sleep in and he’s not wondering when his next meal will be, right?”

He could practically hear you deflate at his words, the corners of his lips tugging upwards into an amused smirk. He had always found it adorable how you whined a little whenever he was right. Another heavy sigh came from your end, unsatisfied that it wasn’t you who brought him home, but you couldn’t exactly do so anyway. On top of rent and your own basic needs, you had no room to home a cat.

“Have you had dinner?” His dark silver-coated eyes flicker to the digital clock on his nightstand. It was a little past seven in the evening, right when your full shift had ended as it should. The loud growl from your stomach on the other end was enough of an answer, eliciting a soft chuckle from him. “Okay, stay there. Let’s have dinner together. That sound good?”

“Yeah. Thank you, Chūya.” He’s always loved the way that his name rolled off of your tongue, like it was an age-old remedy that breathes life and wonder.

“I’ll see you in a bit, angel.”

When he picked you up, you looked like a kicked puppy sitting by the entrance of your café. That night, he took you out for dinner and he learned a little bit more about you. As the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat, he felt his heart squeeze in disappointment when he’d found out that you were hung up over somebody else.

The thing was, he couldn’t even be mad at the person. He didn’t know who he was, nor could he give two fucks, but he wanted to be mad at the person for breaking your heart like that. Yet from the way you described him, he was just the average joe who didn’t dare to hurt a fly.

You talked about him like he was the light of your life; like he had handpicked the stars in the night sky and had carefully placed them, mapping out the ageless constellations that stared back at you every night. You talked about him like he was the sole reason for your happiness and the main cause of your despair.

Did it hurt? Fuck yeah, it did. He’s watching the person he’s in love with fall apart because of the person they’re in love with. But what else could he do but be by your side? What else could he do but help you move on from this mysterious man while he keeps his feelings for you locked away in the deepest depths of his heart, never to be touched? Chūya knew he couldn’t make you as happy as the other man could. The least that he could do was try. Even when the world tears itself apart, he’d do anything to make sure you were safe and sound. Because that’s what friends were for, after all.

[blueeyedgeorgie]

Belle-W.L

“could I request a will imagine where the reader is mia in his new video? like she's his girlfriend and reacts to all of the things belle got him?”

“can you do a will x reader fic where the reader reacts to the belle delphine box lmao x”

Gif cred. @sdmngifs​

Pairing: WillNE X Reader

Word Count: 2.6k+

Pronouns: She/Her

__________________

Opening the door, Y/n's attention first went to the corner of the room. A giant pink bear sat there with two pink crates, a giant blown up donut, and a canvas with a pink-haired girl holding a gun. Glancing over to Will's desk across the room, her boyfriend sat there, not bothering to look back at her. "What is going on here?" Y/n made her way over to the empty seat next to will, a grin was spread across her face. She was a bit excited about whatever her boyfriend was planning. "That smile is will be gone soon," he hadn't made eye contact with his girlfriend yet. He focused on the camera, leaning in to readjust the lens. "Alright, here's the plan, I'm gonna show you all the stuff by the bear. But first you gotta know, all of it is from Belle Delphine." Y/n's mouth shaped in an 'o',  it made sense from the canvas leaning on Will's table. "I need you to close your eyes for the first surprise," her boyfriend stood up from his seat, making his way from behind Y/n. "Oh no, I'm scared already." Hesitantly, she raised her hands to her face. "This first surprise you shouldn't have to be scared about," Will replied. Y/n could hear Will moving around, the sound of his closet door opened before closing again. "So you're telling me I should be scared of some of Belle's gifts?" "Well... yes and no." "Wait, what does that mean, Will?" Y/n let out a giggle fueled with nervousness. "Alright, open your eyes." Taking her hands away from her face, Y/n took a second to let her eyes readjust before looking to her boyfriend. Will stood there with a stupid grin on his face as he wore a white ahegao hoodie. "Oh wait, that's actually really cool," A smile appeared on her face. "I think I might steal that from you for some Instagram pictures." "Really?" he raised a brow at Y/n's reaction. It was only the first gift, but he knew it would get worse. "Yeah, that with some fishnets and some platform boots, it'd be a look," She brushed her hair back out of her face, a grin still staying on her face. Will took a glance at the camera for a moment before walking off back to his closet. "Am I the only one you're showing this stuff to? Or some other friends?" Y/n turned, watching Will pull the hoodie off himself. "Yeah, I'm just having James, Alex, and George stop by to have them check it out too," as soon as the hoodie was off, Will made his way to the other belongings in the corner of the room. "Alright, here's the next gift." He had picked up a box, bringing it back over to the desk. Getting closer, he revealed the front of the box with a bit of art of Belle on the from. Belle had been making a "shush" motion as the art of her was drawn with her finger over her lips. "Is that Belle Delphine fanart?"Y/n asked as she admired the art. "I have no clue, what do you think is in it?" "Huh, probably more photos of her." "George said the same thing," Will grinned happily, his hand snaking down to open the box. "Great minds think alike." Will paused as Y/n spoke, only making his girlfriend let out a giggle, "Are you gonna keep opening it or not?" "I'm opening it, I'm opening it," he let out a sigh before flipping the top open. A dartboard with Morgz mum's face on it was shown. "That's so cool," Y/n grinned happily. "Are you gonna hang it up somewhere?" "Maybe, I have no clue where I'm gonna put it yet," Will shrugged before closing the box. He made his way back to the corner of gifts. "I'd just like to say Will hasn't let me into his bedroom for the past couple of days because of all the gifts," The h/c girl smiled before looking back at Will as he picked out a new gift. "That looks like a Belle Delphine shrine, doesn't it?" Will had approached with a different box that had the same art sprawled out on top of it. Taking a seat next to Y/n, he handed her the box before quickly snatching up his Go-Pro camera. Taking a glance at Will, Y/n slowly opened the box. As soon as they realized what was sitting in their lap, a giant grin spread across their face another time. A pink BB gun sat there with 'Belle Delphine' written across it. "Can Belle become my sugar mommy?" Y/n spoke as she picked up the gun. Will let out a laugh from his girlfriend's response. "I'm surprised how well you're taking this." "Well, I haven't seen anything too concerning." "Yet." "What?" After taking the BB gun back, Will had returned with something else. A pink machete. "My god, Belle is really preparing you for an apocalypse, isn't she?" "I literally have no clue what I'm going to do with this," Will shrugged, going back to find a safe place to secure the weapon. After the machete, Will had brought the portrait of Belle over to Y/n to give her a moment to admire it. Belle was painted holding a gun as she said 'Subscribe or die.' "Just wondering why you haven't drawn up a canvas like this yet," Will grinned cheekily. "You see, I was gonna say I liked the painting until you made that snarky little comment," Y/n shook her head, her smile disappearing. "But you know what? You want a canvas? I'll give you a canvas. Don't be surprised when one day you walk into your bedroom and you'll see a painting of me covering up your walls." her smile appeared from Will's mouth falling open. "And I'm gonna get one of your friends in so they get the video content before you do." "Alright, that's where you hurt me, Y/n," Will shook his head, walking off with the canvas. "Anyways, I think it's about time we open the crates." As soon as the crate was brought over to Y/n, she opened it. The crate had been filled with all different sorts of things. The first thing Will had pulled out was a pair of cat mittens. "I think these were made for you." "No love, those were made for you." Y/n pushed the mittens towards Will, only for him to put them on. "Looking good." Instead of continuing to go through the crate, Will had brought over the inflatable donut. He had ended up making Y/n wear it while pointing his go-pro camera in her face. "I'm scared," Y/n bit her lip. "Why am I sitting in the donut?" "There's no reason to be scared." Will let out a giggle of excitement mixed with nervousness. "Is Belle gonna pop out of the closet or something?" She looked behind her over to the row of closets in Will's room. Will let out another giggle. "No, no, no. Don't worry about that. But do you think you could smell it?" "What?" "Just smell the donut, Y/n." Keeping eye contact with her boyfriend, Y/n hesitantly leaned in towards the plastic, sniffing it. There was no scent besides the smell of plastic. "There's no smell Will." "Alright, there's another donut. This one smells like an actual donut," Will had brought a smaller donut over to Y/n. "And on the back of it is a YouTube URL." "Oh no... what happened?" Y/n's voice cracked as she moved to take the piece of plastic off of her, "I don't wanna wear this now." Will took a seat next to Y/n, letting out a laugh as he typed in the URL. "The URL leads to a video titled, 'Belle vs Donut.' And the channel is 'Willne and Belle forever'." "It should be Y/n and Belle forever," Y/n gave a mischievous wink at the camera while Will typed in the URL. Her boyfriend had taken a moment to stare into the camera just from hearing that. "Am I gonna lose my girlfriend to my sugar mommy?" "Hopefully." The video had started, revealing Belle had sprayed whipped cream on most of the donut before slipping into the donut from using a children's slide. After she was in the donut she had slapped her head against the donut before the video ended. A moment of silence followed after the video ended. Y/n was a bit speechless for a moment. "...Wow." "I know," Will chuckled with his usual grin reappearing on his face. "You commented 'pog'?" The h/c girl let out a giggle as she scrolled down to the comment section, "You're this channel's only subscriber. That's sad." Will couldn't help but let out some more laughter from Y/n. "Guys, go subscribe to Willne and Belle forever and try to get Belle to change the channel name to  'Y/n and Belle forever'." Will looked into his camera once more with the usual look of disappointment. As Will had gone back to bring the crate back, Y/n quickly scrolled down to the comment section, typing in 'Y/n + Belle forever.' The crate had been reopened, revealing the content inside for a second time. The first thing Will had pulled out was a photo of Belle with a note on the back of it. "Dear WillNE, I hope you enjoy your mystery box! Love from Belle Delphine." "That's sweet," Y/n smiled. "I'm just so confused how you aren't upset," Will placed the photo back down before turning to Y/n. "Oh, the only thing I'm upset about is that she chose to be your sugar mommy over mine." Will had shown off a pink Xbox controller with Belle's name engraved on it. Y/n had found it cool and was a bit jealous she didn't have her own. After the Xbox controller, Will brought out Belle's pet named 'Fluffy.' He was a small crocodile with a ribbon tied around his neck. "Omg, I love him. Could I keep him?" Y/n smiled, taking the crocodile out of Will's hands. "Yeah, I thought he was a real animal when I first opened the crate." Y/n let out a laugh at her boyfriend before they continued on with the rest of the items. Will had brought out a Dive blaster from OverWatch to show off, Y/n really didn't care much for it. Up next, Will had brought out a pair of pink darts with the Britain flag on them. SO the couple had decided to walk over to the dartboard to play a short game. Will had brought out a mug with custom art on it. The art had shown Belle watching WillNE on it, meanwhile a few of Will's friends' videos had been put on the sidebar of recommended videos. "It says Will and Belle forever... wow," Y/n gave a look to the camera before handing the mug back to her boyfriend. Will brought out a polaroid of Belle that had a button connected to it. The button had said, 'send nudes.' "I'm starting to get concerned she's actually trying to steal you from me," Y/n muttered quietly as she stared at the polaroid. Will did feel a bit bad, he knew he had to spoil Y/n some way for her later on to make up for the video. Y/n looked back at the camera before blurting out, "Belle I love you, please date me instead of my boyfriend." Will had swapped out the first crate for another one, this new one being called 'the fanny crate.' He had first pulled out a bowl of cereal, handing it to Y/n. "Oh, that's cute. It says sub to WillNE," Y/n smiled at the bowl. "It might not be what you think it is." "Nevermind." She quickly placed the bowl down, refusing to take a second glance at it. The brunette boy had pulled out a purple teddy bear that had no face, merely a giant black hole for a mouth and prickly white teeth. "Oh, I love him too. Could I also keep him?" The h/c girl grinned, holding the bear close. "Take him, he's scary." Will shook his head, going back into the crate to pull something new out. A syringe of pink glitter appeared in his hands. As soon as Y/n saw it, she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. "Mikey, could you please edit James in when he says 'Inject this into my fucking veins'?" Y/n let out a giggle as she looked over at the camera. "Don't listen to her Mikey!" "Joke's on you, Mikey likes me." Will had next pulled out a pink condom that had been titled 'Gamer girl condom.' Of course, Will had ended up asking the dumbest question yet. "Could we use it?" "She could've poked holes in it," Y/n shook her head. "You're insane." Will had ended up bringing out a new gift that just happened to make Y/n a bit jealous. A brand new seventh-generation Ipad. The couple had found themselves talking over if Belle had possibly uploaded anything to it. After putting the Ipad away once again, Will had told Y/n to close her eyes once again. "Will, you keep scaring me," Y/n sighed, her face covered with her hands. "Well none of this stuff has been that terrible yet, has it?" "You said 'yet' earlier." "That's because I thought you were gonna be much more upset over the stuff in the crates!" After a moment of shuffling footsteps and silence, Wil spoke up once again, "Reach your hand out." "Oh no," Y/n muttered before hesitantly moving her hand out. It took a few seconds before she felt anything. But as soon as her hand came in contact with something, she flinched. Opening her eyes, Y/n had realized what her hand came in contact with. "She got you a fucking chainsaw?" At this point, Will was grinning like a child who had been spoiled on Christmas. "Gotta protect myself." "From what? Wood?" Y/n raised a brow, a smug smile on her face as she watched Will walk off with his new machine. Soon enough, Will had come back with one last item. A small pink box. Getting into arms reach of Y/n, he quickly handed the box to her, not bothering to take a seat before doing it. Y/n let out a gasp at the sight of the box, could Belle have tried to propose to Will? "I swear if she proposed to you with an engagement ring I'm breaking up with you," shaking her head, Y/n opened the box. A small necklace fell out with a small red crystal connected to it. After taking a moment to admire it, Y/n spoke up. "Will... what is this?" "Blood." "What the fuck?" As quickly as the necklace had been brought out, it had been put away. And just like that, the filming had come to an end. Y/n had stuck around to help Will clean everything up for Alex to show up. By the time they had finished, they had a bit of time before Alex would show up, leaving the couple free time together. "Hey Y/n," Will followed Y/n downstairs. They had planned to watch a bit of TV and cuddle for a bit. "Yes?" "you know I love you, right?" "Of course," Y/n stopped walking, turning to face her boyfriend. "I love you, you know that, right?' "Yeah." "Good," the h/c girl took a seat on the couch, scooting over to give Will room. "You're not mad about Belle?" "Not at all, I get stuff like this happens. Also, Belle is Belle, what do you expect?" She moved over, cuddling up to Will's chest as he moved to hold her close. "God, you're amazing." "I know."

Taglist: @anyasthoughts @multifandom-but @springholland @blondiee-seaveyy @caswinchester2000 @glossystyless 

[maemi324]

Burned

Hello all you lovely people! Today I come to you bearing gifts!

the gift that is this fic, which is quite possibly the longest fanfic I’ve ever done. Period. I’ve written more for a personal story of mine, but this one…this just takes the cake.

14 pages, 6988  words. That may not sound like a lot, but for me it was a huge thing, and I’m actually pretty proud of it. 

this was inspired by the song “Burn the Witch” by Shawn James, which I highly recommend listening to towards the end of this.

So this involves witches, as you might have guessed. I did do some research on this, referencing a few holidays. With that being said, this is not the fic to go to looking for accurate information about Pagan Holidays, their differences, similarities and all the right customs. This is all mixed in with some fictional things that I felt helped the story flow. If you want an accurate description of their holidays, practices, beliefs, please go do your own research, or ask someone that knows about them, as that person is not me. 

With that out of the way! here are some mentions of some characters in here!

Aizawa, Present Mic, All Might, All for One, Shigaraki, LOV (vague description), Ochaco, Iida, Todoroki, mama Midoriya

Warnings: Character Deaths (kind of) vague descriptions of death, witch hunt, stakes, fire. OOC Shigaraki probably, and Izuku. If there are more warnings needed let me know. Only edited by me. May edit later. Right now i just wanna post this guy.

@katsukikitten​, @what-the-censored-xd​ I hope you enjoy!

You were standing beside your mother, hanging onto her skirts as she placed a flower crown in your hair, your small hands reaching to gently feel their soft petals. 

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

It was the brightest summer you could remember, the first thing you could remember actually.

You could see your father, as well as some of your parents’ friends, all gathering wood into this large pile to be lit that night. You felt a thrum of something run through your fingers as your hands fell back to your sides. Excitedly you tugged on your mother’s skirts. 

She’d just placed a crown upon a friend’s head, looking down at you with that sweet smile that had you giggling. 

“What has you so giggly darling?” 

She bent down to your level, nearly falling over as you thrust your zinging hand in the general direction of her face. She carefully pushed your fingers back, a gasp at her lips as soft yellow hues glowed from your fingertips, your other hand still preoccupied with the soft flower petals.

“Well would you look at that! I knew you’d be getting it soon!” She pressed kisses all over your face, the last one landing on your forehead. Her attention was pulled from you as someone called out to her, a young woman, no older than your own mother, with hair so dark it was almost green, carrying someone who’s hair matched hers. 

“Inko! You made it!” She hugged the woman- now named Inko- closely, only pulling back after a tight squeeze. 

“Thank you for inviting us! Are you sure it’s alright that we’re here? These aren’t, well, really our traditions to do-”

“Nonsense! You’re family, you are just as welcome here now as any other part of the year. Now who is this young one?” You watched as she motioned to the, what you could now see was a young boy, who had the brightest green eyes you had ever seen, with a magic all their own.

“This is my son, Izuku, my pride and joy,” She nuzzled his cheek, pressing a kiss there. In an attempt to get him to smile she blew a raspberry on his cheek, which had him giggling, but his eyes remained trained on your mother. “He’s a little shy around strangers however”

“ That’s the same little one I saw last year? Goodness, he’s grown so much!”

“Oh I know! It seems like only yesterday I just had him! 

You frowned, you wanted mama’s attention! It was like she’d forgotten you were there. You tugged on her skirts with a whine, hardly mollified when she only gave you her hand. You pressed it against your cheek. 

“And this is the lady of the day?” Inko set down Izuku in favor of looking you over.

“Yes indeed, our little Birthday girl, (Y/N)” She smiled down at you letting go of your hand, “Why don’t you show Izuku how to make a flower crown, hm?” 

At the idea of doing something fun your mood brightened immediately, offering your hand to him. He instead looked up at his mother, now adorned with her own flower crown, who gave him a light push towards you. 

He nervously gave you his hand and you pulled him over to the circle of people braiding flowers together.

Somehow, that little moment blossomed into friendship. As the hours passed, he’d opened up, little by little, much like the flowers in your hand had when first blooming. He told you stories from his village, tales of a heroic man- a knight you would later remember- under the name of “All Might”.

 As he talked, he paid close attention to how your hands moved as he made his crown. While it wasn’t perfect, he placed the small crown over the one your mother had given you, saying it wasn’t any good. You told him right then and there you were proud to wear it. You had yet to finish yours, so you asked him to continue his stories as you worked. It may have been all he talked about for the first hour since then, but you were keen to hear his tales, eyes sparkling with something wonderful as his freckled cheeks turned pink at the sound of your laughter. 

He was also incredibly interested in your traditions. You were too young to have them all memorized by heart, but you did know that at every celebration, you, and others of your kind in the area, came to this specific clearing in the woods. 

The area had been used for as long as any elder could remember, slowly built into a circle with a place for the fire in the center, steps built into the hill as makeshift seats, the grass around the area lush and green, the best to dance around the fire in. During this celebration in particular you adorned crowns of flowers and built the fire, dancing and offering praise to the gods. Hardly any from the village came to these celebrations, but they did not condemn your ways and kept to their own. 

You danced and played the day away, the other children chasing after you in good fun. Giggles and loud shrieks filled the air, air soft and warm with the scent of the lavender fields so close by.

Of course, you were both so young then, by the time the stars were high in the sky, the both of you were out like lights, leaning against one another with a blanket draped over your laps. You only remember briefly waking as you were cuddled next to someone in your bed. You paid no mind as your father kissed your forehead, leaving you with a whisper of ‘goodnight’. You snuggled back into the person beside you, green hair tickling your nose as you slipped back into sleep.

When you awoke the next morning, breakfast lingering in the air. Your heart clenched sadly as you were alone. Had yesterday been a dream? Where had your new friend gone? You scrambled out of bed into the main room, Izuku sitting next to his mother, stuffing a sweet bread your father had made into his mouth, whilst Inko and your mother talked about the previous night.

Since then, Izuku and his mother had returned to every holiday, the Autumn equinox, Samhain, the Winter solstice, every single one. You would count down the days, a small piece of charcoal to mark on your wall until the day he arrived. 

With every visit came more tales of knights and their battles, He’d even started writing them down, so that way no one would forget them and their deeds. You had joked that with a memory like his, he would never forget. 

During the time in between visits, you learned how to help manage your father’s shop. He taught you which herbs and plants had medicinal properties, how to bring a potion to the right temperature and keep it there, hands glowing a soft blue. 

Your mother taught you the other properties of magic, warding away evil and the right way to banish an evil that had long sunk its roots into it’s target, hands glowing a soft purple. You were all too happy to learn from them, how to help people with a kind hand and a soft smile. 

But there were times your heart had wanted to be cruel, to be angry. When all you wanted to do was place something wicked on the boys that ran around your village and teased you. Especially when they had torn apart a necklace your mother had given you. 

It wasn’t rare by any means, but your mother had given it to you and thus it was special.

You told your mother as such after hours of searching for the pendant, with little to no luck of even finding the chain. She had nearly dropped the jar of spices into the soup she had been making. 

“Curses are not things to be taken lightly darling,” She sat you down at the table, your feet kicking in an irritated fashion, toes barely touching the floor. “They are dangerous, and not for the faint of heart. But most importantly, that is not what our magic is for” she tilted your pouting face up to hers, so she could look you in the eye, her other hand taking your smaller one into hers. “Our magic is to help and heal. Those of our magic who choose otherwise have…They have died, or worse even. So promise me you’ll never curse or hex anyone. Alright?”

“I promise mum,” you sighed, anger dissipating into a strange form of disappointment and forced contentment. She let go of your hand with a smile, a confused expression on your face as you opened your hand to find the necklace sitting on your palm as if it had been there for hours. 

That promise only lasted a short time. The next time Izuku had visited, the boys began to pick on him as well, he was shorter and smaller than they were, a prime target. That was all easily ignorable, taking his hand and leading him off somewhere else. The last straw had been a kick to his dream.

“You’ll never be a real knight, no matter how hard you try! You’re too much of a mama’s boy, too weak!”

You could have sworn you’d seen red, though Izuku begged you not to do anything. It was only his asking that spared the boys a beating they would not come out of unscathed. 

So instead, come nightfall, you had slipped from your bed, careful not to step on Izuku as you passed. You snuck into the shop, grabbing one of your father’s bowls and setting out into the forest. You picked at your ingredients with haste, mashing them together with water and a stone. You uttered the foulest curse your young mind could think of; giving the boys a taste of being so close but never there. An itch they couldn’t scratch, they would never be able to scratch, no matter how sharp their nails.

Pleased with your work, you washed out the now empty bowl. You ignored the sickly feeling in your stomach, setting the bowl back in its place. You closed the door as softly as you could, sneaking back into bed.

However, that morning you awoke to your skin feeling itchy, the sensation unrelenting no matter how hard your nails scratched. Your whimpers of panic woke Izuku, eyes wide with panic of his own, he dove out the door and ran for your mother. 

That’s how you found yourself alone, with your mother, the offending bowl in question as well as one that had an ointment of some kind in it, your mother smearing it over your red skin.

“I hope you’ve learned something from this,” her voice held just the barest hint of amusement, though only just barely. “Poison ivy isn’t exactly a walk in the park” she finished with your arms and moved on to your back. 

“If you weren’t careful however,” her voice turned hard, your body tensing at the shift in tone, “This could have turned out far worse. Far more dangerous. Magic isn’t a game, there are real consequences to your actions, just as there are in any other parts of life” You nodded your head solemnly, the back of your mind thanking just about everything for the relief the ointment brought. 

Of course you had to learn the hard way the effects of going against your own nature. 

You’d spent that Summer Solstice wrapped up with an ointment, dealing with Izuku’s annoying little smirk.

“I appreciate the thought (Y/N),” He whispered to you, the two of you sat a ways from the fire as you watched the others dance, “You wanted to defend me, but please, don’t go around cursing people, for my sake if not yours” he laughed, swatting your hand away from your own arm as you tried to itch it. 

“Yeah, yeah, see if I ever do anything nice for you ever again” you groused, no heat behind your words. You were best friends, you’d do anything for him, just like he would you.

It was on your seventeenth birthday, a coming of age for a young witch, when you learned how far those feelings would go.

It was one hell of a birthday, you thought, sitting behind the wagon full of flowers that had yet to be formed into crowns, crying pitifully. The young girls of the village had teased you, your dress was so short compared to the usual style, even the sleeves! Your ankles were on full display and your feet were bare.

You hardly minded their comments, their concerns didn’t matter. It was your coming of age celebration as well as the Solstice. Everything was perfect, you’d even woken up early, gotten all your chores done and had enough time to have a relaxing bath beforehand. Their sense of fashion didn’t matter compared to your traditions. Not only that, but your mother had made the dress herself, it was soft and comfortable. 

It was only when the other witches your age had decided that the color you wore wasn’t appropriate for the celebration, in these ‘modern’ times, far too dark and disrespectful. While they had etched a seed of self consciousness into your mind, you carried on, your mother had chosen this color specifically for you and the celebration at hand. The colors were fine! In your irritation, you stomped away hardly looking where you were going, falling face first and sliding into a patch of mud, probably leftover from yesterday’s rain.

You looked up from your predicament, one of the others dogs lifting up its leg to pee near you but not on you. At that angle it hardly mattered. The giggles from younger children were harsh enough, grating on your ears, whispers from some of the elders of this being a bad omen. But what was the worst of it all? The concern in Izuku’s eyes. He’d made a beeline towards you, but before he could reach you, you had sprinted off, just away from everyone.

You didn’t know why his eyes made it all the worse, that look never would have bothered you before, right?

The sun was starting to set, the wood was almost arranged perfectly to burn all night long.

You wiped your eyes, glaring down at the mud now on your hands.

“I thought I might find you here”

You jumped, heart launching itself into overdrive as you whirled around only to see Izuku.

“Oh! Izuku…you scared me” you placed a hand over your heart, as if it would slow to a normal pace if you did so. “Shouldn’t you be helping with the fire?” you asked, scooting over so he could sit next to you.

“What kind of a friend would I be if I let you be here by yourself?” he asked, his gaze patiently waiting to meet yours, as soon as you had the courage to.

“You seemed alright with me being here up until now” you muttered. A flash of hurt appeared in his eyes, you immediately regret your harsh tone.

“W-Well, I had wanted to let you cool down before I just got in your space-”

“No, that was unfair of me Izuku, I’m sorry. I just…everything was supposed to be perfect. Or realistically perfect. Falling flat on my face in mud wasn’t exactly a part of the plan” you wiped your hands off on what little remained of your dress. “Or being considered a possible bad omen”

“I know what that’s like, remember on my fifteenth birthday, when I was helping carry all those crates?” You had to hold back a snort, as you recalled the story. 

Your father had arranged for you to meet a supplier of a rare type of herb, as well as a few crates of spices for one of the shopkeepers in the village. The poor man had fallen ill this year and had somehow convinced his supplier to meet him halfway instead of going to the nearest town. 

Izuku had been visiting at the time and, of course, offered to help you. You had just gotten over the main hill, you could see the people of your village milling about. You turned to look over at Izuku, only to watch as he fell face first onto the ground, tripping over a root. The barrels of spices went rolling down the hill, him rolling after them. 

The barrels landed with a crash against some boxes stacked near the well, Izuku was hardly so lucky as he had rolled right into the wells wall.

“You were so lucky that you came out of that with only a broken arm” you laughed softly, a huff of laughter escaping him as well. 

“At least the spices were alright, I’d have felt so bad if they’d all gone to waste because of my clumsiness” he placed a hand over yours, not even minding the dirt and tears that clung to it. 

“It’s not quite the same as a ‘bad omen’, it’s also probably a little thoughtless of me to say ‘ forget them’ when they’re a huge part of your culture, your traditions. But…I want you to know that, they could call you any and all these bad things under the sun…and your parents wouldn’t believe them for a minute…I wouldn’t believe them for a minute.” 

He stood up then, pulling you gently along with him. You allowed him, though your eyes were too preoccupied with seeing what everyone else is doing. Most were gathered around the fire, listening as one of the elders spoke, others talking and laughing amongst themselves, their cups full of sweet liquid.

He led you down to the river, the water warmed by the long summer day, softly babbling as the wildlife went about their ways. He sat you down on one of the rocks, taking one in front of you for himself.

“What are we doing over here Izuku?” 

He didn’t answer you, reaching into one of his pockets and dunking a cloth into the water.

“Isn’t that your handkerchief?” you ask, face molded into disgust as the cloth came closer to you.

“What? No, well yes, but this one is an extra one, it’s clean I promise” he gently placed his hand on your chin, tilting your face up as he wiped the muck off of your face.

His touch was soft but firm, eyes only taking in his work as your own counted the freckles that danced along his cheeks, the way he bit his lip in concentration. Somewhere in the deepest part of your mind and the very center of your heart, you knew why that look had your cheeks turning red and your heart hammering in your chest. But at the forefront of your mind, you couldn’t tell why.

The two of you were silent as he continued his pattern, dunking the cloth into the water, washing out the dirt and wringing out the water to carefully wash away the dirt on your face. 

It doesn’t take him long however, to finish with his task, washing and wringing out the cloth for the last time. His eyes finally meet yours, offering a gentle smile that only widened as he booped your nose with the cloth, the face you made sending pink butterflies through his stomach. You couldn’t help but laugh as well, his good mood far too contagious.

“Ah, there you are,” he said, his hand still holding your face as he took in your smile. You only hummed in agreement, internally mourning the loss of warmth from his hand as he pocketed the cloth. 

“Thank you, Izuku, that was…you are too kind for this world, I think” You stood up from the rock, you couldn’t stay down by the river all night. Your dress may have been ruined, you’d have to apologize to mother for it, but someone must have brought an extra. Or so you hoped. 

Hand in hand, you walked back to the clearing, trying to slip past the majority of the party to get to your mother, only for a gentle hand to stop you both in your tracks.

One of the elders, Mrs.Tachibana, looked up at you with kind eyes. She was mostly known for her talent for seeing into the future. That’s what the majority said it was, she described it as, ‘ getting a feeling I’ll need such and such object today’ only for it to come in handy at the oddest of times.

“I’m sorry Mrs.Tachibana, did I bump into you?” She shook her head at your question.

“Oh no dear, but I do have something for you. I had made it for my daughter, but it seems she made her own dress this time. I think It’s a good color for you!” She carefully handed the dress to you, to which you handed to Izuku, your body was covered in mud! You weren’t about to dirty some other dress.

“Oh are you sure-”

“Oh yes of course dear, no one else is going to be wearing it tonight!” 

You quickly changed behind a tapestry your mother had been working on, feeling much better and cleaner in this new dress, it was a little on the short end, but just barely past what your mother’s dress had been.

You walk back out to find Izuku waiting for you, the fire having been lit. The music was hardly loud, but the drums struck a chord within your heart that pulsed with energy, a need to sing along, to move to the beat. You bound over to him, taking his hand in yours.

“I see you’re feeling better” He mused, his foot tapping to the beat.

“Much better. Come dance with me?” You tugged gently on his hand toward the fire.

“You know I’m not the best dancer (Y/N)” He warned, as if you didn’t have years of experiencing it first hand. You shrugged your shoulders, even though he was far from good, he was most definitely not a disaster.

“Is that a No?” You swayed back and forth on your heels, looking up at him with what you hoped was a sweet enough look to get what you liked. He let go of your hand, for a moment you feared you’d pushed your luck too far, suddenly his hands were on your waist, lifting you into the air as he spun you into the dancing circle, your shriek of surprise worth the slight pain of him stepping on his own toes as he brought you back down.

You danced the night away together, hardly pausing for a break, you didn’t need to for whatever reason. You just wanted his arms around you, spinning you this way and that, lifting you in time with the music that had your stomach doing somersaults that tickled.

He felt the same, your laughter had his heart soaring, the smile on your face shooting Cupid’s arrows right through his heart. He tripped and stumbled every so often, but it was all worth it if it meant you were having a good time.

The two of you finally stopped to take a break, the moon high in the sky. You pulled him towards the river once again, the cool air there was bound to cool you off. 

You sat down in the grass, pulling him down with you as you laughed at his startled expression.

“Well I’d say you did quite well with dancing!”

“Oh do you really? Even with all my fumbles?”

“Eh, you just added a few new steps!”

“A few new steps she says!” He barked out a laugh, tears gathering in his eyes, your own giggles twisting into his like sweet music. 

Your laughter died out naturally, the music of crickets and rushing water kept you company, the drums from the music thumping distantly. He leaned back, looking up to the sky, you followed suit, your shoulder pressed against his as you pointed up at the stars.

“I think I’ll draw a new image in the stars. Just for tonight” You traced the shape with your fingers, Izuku mirroring your actions to see if he could get the shape.

“And, what are you going to call this new one?”

“Hmm…I’m not sure yet. It’s a process” 

Your brow furrowed as you thought, the thoughts clear in your eyes, oh he was hopeless.

You jumped slightly at the feel of his hand cupping your jaw. His eyes were full of an emotion you couldn’t name, but it set your skin ablaze.

“I’ve had a great time tonight” you murmur, eyes wide and watching. What was he going to do?

“I have too,” he matched your volume, thumb idly stroking your cheek gently.

“I’ve actually thought about this for a while, but I was…afraid to ask you, in case I somehow ruined our friendship. But…the thing is (Y/N), I know our friendship is strong enough to withstand that. I want more than a friendship with you, I…I want to be with you all the time. I wanna be there on your good days, bad days, those days where everything and nothing are going on at once, I want it all,” he took a deep breath, steadying his shaking limbs and resolving his nerves.

“What do you say (Y/N)? Be my Love?” 

Your eyes had watered considerably, your own hand holding his, you couldn’t help but nod.

“I was starting to think that my feelings were one sided,” you laughed, tears dripping down your cheeks. “I would love nothing more than to be yours” 

He leaned into your space, so carefully, his hand gently pulling you closer until your lips met his, soft and warm, just like yours. You slowly pulled back, only to be gently pulled back in again, over and over until you were used to one another’s rhythm, kisses becoming slower and longer.

His tongue softly asked for entrance, and you readily allowed him access. He tasted of the sweet drink that had been served, goosebumps raised along your skin as he leaned you backwards into the grass, his eyes half lidded as adoration danced along the pinks of his cheeks. 

He was careful not to press you too hard into the ground as he kissed you again, your tongues dancing as your hand gripped the hair at the base of his skull. The groan that rumbled through his chest and that particular rough pass of his lips had your toes curling.

He parted from you again, staring at your kiss bruised lips, wet and so inviting looking, moving slowly towards your (E/C) colored eyes, finding the same emotion fluttering in his heart. Carefully he sat up, you following after him with a smile on your face. You sat together, curled into one another as you watched the stars.

It had been four years since that Solstice, the two of you now adults. A year or two after becoming lovers, Izuku had finally found someone to train him into becoming a knight, a real hero. It meant that you would see him less, but he would always write to you when he could.

You were saddened at the news, but also so proud. Finally after all these years, his dream was coming true. He promised you that he would always come back to you, that once he had become a knight, able to help you build your own healing stand in the main city, He’d properly ask you to marry him. You knew he always kept his promises, one way or another. 

How could you deny him his dream? You couldn’t truthfully.

That brought you here, scratching out another day along the tally you made. Only a few more days until Izuku came back. You helped your father run the shop now, almost fully taking over as the village healer. 

You braced the day with a smile as the regulars came in, the usual ointments for Mrs.Tachibana, some medicine to the mother of some poor twins who had caught some sickness during the seasons change to spring, a wooden spoon covered in semi-crystalized honey for the wailing babe, their teeth slowly but surely coming in.

The morning rush could hardly be considered as such, your doors opening right at the first peak of dawn. You waved off the last of the morning patrons in no time at all.

You bend down to grab a few herbs, mixing something to help soothe Mr.Yamada’s vocal chords. You hear the door push open, pulling you from your line of thought, your eyes meeting bright green.

“Izuku!” you cry, rushing over to him, arms wrapped around his shoulders in the tightest hug you could manage. He’d grown so much taller than you last remembered- well just bigger in general!

He’d bulked up considerably- he joked he wanted to get better at giving hugs along with being a Knight- and was now a full two heads taller than you. You only pull back to place your hands on his jaw, pulling him down to kiss you properly.

“Did I surprise you?” he laughed, pressing another kiss to your forehead. 

“Yes! You weren’t due back for a few more days! Oh I’m so happy your home!” You stood back up on your toes to press more kisses to his face. “Tell me everything!”

He told you all about the training he went through- hell as he called it, eyes looking back with a slight fondness that only nostalgia could bring- the antics he and some other knights in training had gotten into. His teacher, Aizawa, was a hard man, but ultimately soft hearted in his own way. He couldn’t wait for you to meet the friends he had made, and you were excited to see them.

“I have heard some…other things though” he hesitated, leaning against the counter as you finished Mr.Yamada’s medicine, the yellow glow from your hands dimming until it was no more. “In the city they’re telling stories of witches…and not good ones either.” you hummed in agreement, concern laced into your features.

You’d heard of rumors of witches in nearby towns and villages. At first, nothing was seemingly worrisome about it. So some covens had decided to announce their place in the world, big deal.

Until the rumors had become something dark. Stories of sacrifices, hexes and curses upon innocent bystanders, children. Soon there were rumors of witches in every town, every village.

“Even the people here have started to become…nervous” beforehand, the villagers not a part of your coven had nothing to fear from you, you’d never given them any reason to. But these new witches, witches that were said to be everywhere, brought fear into your community. 

“I’m worried Izuku, they’ve started burning people in the next few towns…I’m not sure what we could do, a show of our magic could scare them into a frenzy, but not doing anything could be just as bad. They even have a witch hunter!” you set down the pestle gently, Izuku taking your hand in his.

“I’m worried too. But for right now, the best we can do is wait and see how things go. No matter what, I’ll always be here, you won’t go through this alone.” your heart fluttered warmly at his words, pressing a kiss to his hand.

The next few days did little to raise or diminish your worries. You walked about the village, showing him what all had changed in his absence, ignoring the stares of the same village girls that had teased your dress all those years ago. 

It wasn’t until the third week that had changed. Even that morning, the dew felt strung and the air was hot and still. Your father had asked you the night before to gather some lavender from the fields in the morning, he was running low on stock.

The two of you agreed, baskets in hand you walked to the fields. 

The breeze began to pick up as you climbed up the hills, the sweet scent dancing around you as you looked up into your lovers eyes.

“Is it just me, or have the lavender fields gotten smaller?” he joked, sitting beside you as you carefully snipped away at the plant, making sure to cut the stalk specifically so the flower could regrow. 

“No, I think you’ve just gotten taller.” You mused, handing him the stalks to carefully separate the leaves and the flowers themselves. 

It was a tense silence as you worked, though you couldn’t tell what was on his. On yours however, was the frequent news of witches being killed. But not only witches, but innocent people as well, for the slightest and most ridiculous thing. Spoiled milk, your neighbor suddenly falling ill after accidentally tripping over your shoe? 

These people wouldn’t know a witch if one kicked them in the ass.

“I think,” Izuku startled you from your thoughts, “It would be best if tonight, you and your family leave with me. At least until all of this calms down.” There would be no reasoning with the public, not with the mass hysteria and distrust of everyone.

“I would agree, but papa would never give up his shop, we’ve been there for years, generations even” you handed him a few more stalks. 

“We’ll have to convince him somehow. I had hoped things would die down, considering the evidence and logic-”

“Since when have the masses and logic ever seen eye to eye?” you quip back, brow raised into bittersweet amusement.

“Since never, but I had hoped…Well It doesn’t really matter what I’d hoped. What I’m thinking now is, I write to my fellow knights in training for help. To help move your coven safely” He started to mumble, various questions littering his mind, how fast could a letter get there? 

Their letters had been casual, while important, they weren’t of any dire emergency. Would his friends believe him? No of course they would, once he proved to them the logic of things. The masses may not be so…sensitive to logic, but his fellow knights were not the masses.

It takes you until sunset to gather enough petals to fill the basket, though the two of you were hardly in any hurry. You walked back to the village, the tense air having loosened just ever so slightly.

All the relaxation the lavender provided was gone the second black smoke was visible over the hill. Lavender forgotten, you ran to the village, the smoke billowing from two stakes. You raced down the hill, passing the well.

No…No gods please no!

On one stake was the remnants of your mother, her eyes open towards the sky as her body drew no more breath. Beside her was your father, eyes closed. A cry of rage and sorrow rang loose, distant from your ears as strong, familiar arms wrapped around you. You screamed and kicked, clawed at his arms. Your throat felt raw as you cried, eyes looking for someone, anyone to blame.

You’d only heard descriptions of him, hairdo pale it was blue, with eyes as red as the blood of innocents he condemned- Tomura Shigaraki.

“Let their souls be cleansed of this evil, so they may find rest at the side of the great one, All for One” his voice was horrid, nasal and cruel, the imagery of snakes filling the back of your mind. He didn’t believe a word he was saying, so evident by the snarl at his lip he called a smile, twisted pleasure saturating his eyes.

“Ah, the main event has arrived!” he snapped his fingers motioning towards you and Izuku, his guards making their way over to you.

One man pulled you from Izuku’s grasp, two men grabbing Izuku by the arms. He swore, headbutting one of the guards, kicking back on the others shin. “You let go of her!” he growled, another pair tackling him down to the ground to restrain him.

“You evil, wicked thing! How dare you kill these innocent people, how dare-” you shrieked and shrieked as you struggled against your captor, another guard capturing your other arm.

“You may struggle now witch! The evil within fights back! But don’t worry, you’ll soon be cleansed.”

Despite your struggles, the both of you are taken into one of the old jails, hidden underground.

The place was dusty from lack of use, the packed earth against the stone kept it cool. You were leaned up against the bars, Izuku leaning against the same ones across from you. He couldn’t hold you like he wanted, the bars too small for anything else but his hands.

“I should have thought about this harder…I should have made a plan sooner” he murmured, breaking the silence. “If I hadn’t wasted time, then maybe-”

“Don’t” your voice was clipped and harsh. You hadn’t meant to be, regret adding to the myriad of emotions pulsing around your broken heart. “Mum and Papa wouldn’t want you to…to talk like that.” you wipe a tear as best as you can, your hand reaching to find his again.

“It’s no one’s fault but that damned Shigaraki” you hiss, “ He’s the witch hunter. He’s selling the world a story and they’re all buying it.” you could feel his lips pressed against your forehead. You shift so you are on your knees, holding onto the bars for balance, you kiss him, deeply, trying to memorize the taste of him one last time. 

You stay like that, murmuring sweet nothings to one another, for who knows how long. You only know that it is all too soon when they open the doors again, dragging you out to the stake. Izuku struggles against the guards as they force him into a kneeling position beside Shigaraki.

Your heart hammers in your chest, adrenaline rushing through your veins as you struggle against your bonds. What you wouldn’t give to become the witch they so feared, maybe then your parents would be alive. Maybe then you and your betrothed would have a chance of surviving.

The fire starts all too quickly, Izuku’s agonized screams of horror sharp in your mind as tears run down your cheeks. Your last image of him couldn’t be of his eyes filled with hopelessness. 

“I love you Izuku! I love you so much, We’ll be together again I swear it-”

“Silence Witch! Your spells have no power here!”

You ignored them, screaming louder, a cool burning sensation wrapping around the ring finger of your left hand, “I will find you! I don’t care how long it takes, we will be together!”

“I love you (Y/N)!” he cries back, a cool burning sensation around his left ring finger was left unnoticed. He was focused entirely on you. Until his world went black.

The guard righted himself, adjusting his hands behind his back, Izuku sat there, his head tilted forward, unconscious. Your heart finally severed, the only explanation for the black ink that spilled from it, tainting all in its path. The wind howled as a sudden storm raged above you, hair twisting this way and that, fueled by the wild look in your eyes, satisfaction found within the fear of Shigaraki’s red irises.

Your magic wasn’t made for curses or hexes. But with your heart broken, the once golden light of your magic turned vengeful, bubbling and vicious. Even as the smoke rose, your voice boomed across the village.

“May your days be numbered!” the crowd gasped, your voice multiplied, as if thousands were speaking at once, your eyes roaming across all of those who had cheered for you and your parents demise, of all those who died before you.

“May your last passing hours be filled with my ghostly visage, as all your loved ones choke on my ashes they thought long swept away! May you die in fear, knowing your bloodline will end with your hatred!” 

The smoke from your pyre weaved around the guilty villagers, more thickly located around Shigaraki and his group. Your vision was turning spotty, but you didn’t care, you weren’t done. If you had to die, you were going out on your own terms.

“To those of you who survive, may you always see my shadow at the end of your beds as you sleep! May your Children curse your name! For your evil, your wickedness! For your Injustice!”

The storm raged on, even as you choked your last breath, your vision turning dark.

I’ll be with you soon my love…

.X.

.X.

.X.

.X.

You blinked, your eyes wet with unshed tears as you glanced around the room, your friends, Ochaco, Iida, and Todoroki were all behind you, looking at you with wide eyes. Next to you sat your boyfriend of two years, now in your third year at UA. His eyes were also wet, slowly turning to gaze towards you.

You had all decided to go to the fair that had opened up. Towards the end of your merriment, you spotted a fortune teller of a sort, and decided to go inside. Everything had been fairly light hearted and fun, until the two of you sat down for your turn. The fortune teller was shocked, the past had something important for you to see, and by all that was good you were going to see it.

You looked down at the promise ring Izuku bought you. It burned with the same cool sensation as you remembered…saw past you. It felt like…a small part of you had been unlocked, as if some part of you had been missing for all of these years.

“We found each other after all”

He gave you a gentle smile, one you returned.

[hidden-otaku-stuff]

Sanctuary (Hidden Corner series)

Hidden Corner: A series of fluffy, full-length one-shots detailing the lives of the employees who work at Hidden Corner featuring the various Haikyuu boys.

*Note: All one-shots take place in the same universe with the same characters.

Izanami is the Reader from Recommendations and Kioko is the Reader from Universal 

tw: mentions of being kicked out, mentions of a toxic family (no details) 

Word count: 4530

Pairing: Barista!Terushima x female Customer!reader

Summary: Kicked out multiple times by bad roommates, Izanami takes pity on her classmate and hires him to work for her café overnight. But little does Terushima know, he’s getting more than just a job out of this.

Masterlist | Menu 

Sanctuary

“Back again, Teru?” 

Terushima sent Izanami a small smile, nodding. “Yeah. Hey Iza.” It was late in the evening, around 8 P.M. by now. 

She hummed from her position behind the counter, stifling a yawn. “How are your other classes goin’?”

“Miserable,” Terushima announced, collapsing onto one of the bar-stools. 

“What’s going on?” Izanami asked, pouring two mugs full of hot chocolate. She added a bit of chipotle pepper and cinnamon to create a Mexican hot chocolate before placing one of the mugs in front of Terushima. 

He accepted it gratefully, sipping it and letting the warmth wash over him. Terushima let out a sigh of relief. Izanami never failed to make the cafe home for him. “My roommates keep kicking me out,” he admits finally. “And I really need a job if I wanna keep staying here.” Terushima chews on his bottom lip. 

“They keep kicking you out?” Izanami frowned, sipping her own mug thoughtfully. “And you need a job huh?” She glanced around at the emptying cafe. There were still a few students dotting around the tables. “How about working here?”

Terushima straightened up, looking into her eyes as his eyebrows furrowed. “Are you serious? I didn’t know you were hiring.”

Izanami shrugged, “I was thinking about opening the cafe 24 hours actually. Let more students have somewhere to crash in case they need to study late, especially during exam season.” She stirred in some more cinnamon into her mug. “If you want, you can work here during the night shift. It shouldn’t be too busy, so you’ll have time to study and do your homework too.” Terushima nodded slowly, listening to her proposition. “If you work hard, you can help yourself to coffee and crash at my apartment upstairs whenever you need to.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, frowning. “I don’t want to take advantage or anything.” 

Izanami snorted. “Where was that sentiment when you kept stealing my notes for class?” She flicked him on the forehead causing him to yelp. “The way I see it, it’s a win-win. I can open the cafe late, you have a job and a place to safely crash whenever you get kicked out.”

“So when can I start?” 

She grinned, “might as well start now.” Izanami bent down, throwing a maroon apron at the male. “Ready to start your training?” 

Terushima nodded eagerly. He’d been frequenting the cafe for the past year or so, ever since he’d shared an Intro to Psych class with Izanami. They’d held their study sessions at the cafe, and he’d been there to help her celebrate when her parents officially transferred the store to her. “You’re a life-saver, Iza,” Terushima grinned, throwing his arms around the girl. 

She shrugged him off, “First order of business, don’t throw yourself at my customers.”

“You mean our customers.”

Izanami flicked him on the forehead again. “Behave or I’ll kick you out too,” she threatened.

Terushima grinned, knowing that she was all bark and no bite. “What else?” 

Izanami chuckled before walking him through all the steps he would need to take. After twenty minutes of showing him various recipes and giving him a recipe book, Izanami went upstairs to her apartment to get Terushima his paperwork. Within five minutes of her leaving, the cafe door chimed open. “Uhm, excuse me?”

Terushima popped up from behind the counter where he’d been leaning down to read the recipe book. “Hey, welcome to Hidden Corner! How can I help you?”

You flush, heat crawling up your cheeks at the sight of the male. Clearing your throat as you anxiously scuff your feet along the floor, you mumble, “the lights were on. Are you guys open?”

Terushima grinned, nodding. “Yep! Today’s the first day of our new hours. We’ll be open for 24 hours from now on.” 

You let out a relieved sigh, stepping further into the cafe. “Is it alright if I study here?”

“Of course,” Terushima replied. “Please let me know if there’s anything you’d like to order or if there’s anything I can help you with.”

“T-thanks,” you stutter, making your way towards the corner table and plopping down into it. Terushima observed you for a moment longer before shaking his head. His first day, he was not about to creep out a random girl. That was him in high-school. After maturing a bit, he realized how immature and disrespectful that was and vowed never to do so again. That, and Izanami had specifically warned him against it. Speaking of his newfound boss, the door swung open to reveal her. You jolted in your seat, whirling around to see her. Relief filled your expression. “Hi, Iza.”

“Oh! Hey (Name), how are you doing?” Izanami smiled kindly as she made her way over to you. “Can I join you?” Izanami asked politely, indicating the open seat.

You nod shyly, gesturing to the seat. “Of course, Iza.” You cast your gaze around the cafe, drifting over Terushima who was awkwardly trying to look like he was studying the recipe book when he was really eavesdropping. “I didn’t know you were open overnight?”

Izanami chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, it’s actually a new development. If it wasn’t for Teru, it wouldn’t have been possible for a while.”

You nod, glancing at Terushima who gave a small wave. “He seems nice,” you whisper to Izanami, who gave you an amused smile.

“Hey Teru, make another mug of that Mexican Hot Chocolate, will ya?” 

“Yes ma’am!” 

“Don’t call me that,” Izanami chided, shooting him a look. Terushima just gave her a cheeky smile, doing a two-finger salute before busying himself with the drink. He let out a soft sigh of relief. At least it was an easy one.

“What’s that for?” you ask curiously, tilting your head.

“Here ya go, boss-lady.” Terushima came towards the table, gently placing it down onto it. 

Izanami smacked his hand, “you’re a cheeky one, aren’t you?” You giggled, the exchange making you feel much more comfortable than you had been feeling since entering the cafe ten minutes ago. Terushima flashed you a grin. “(Name), sweetheart, this is Terushima. If he ever bothers you, let me know okay? I’ll kick his ass for you.”

“Iza!” Terushima whined, jutting his lip out in a small pout. “I promise I’ll behave.” 

“You’d better,” she threatened. 

Terushima turned back to you, extending a hand. “Like she said, I’m Terushima.” He opened his mouth, about to drop a pick-up line until Izanami sent him a fierce glare and he thought better of it. 

“I’m (Name),” you said, gazing up with him with soft doe-eyes. 

“Nice to meet you (Name).” 

“Alright, back to work for us. Good luck studying, (Name),” Izanami smiled, ruffling your hair. “That drink is on the house, but please feel free to let Terushima or I know if you need anything, okay?” 

You nod, sipping the hot chocolate and waving a goodbye to Izanami and Terushima as they made their way back to the counter. As they sat at the counter filling out paperwork, Terushima’s brown eyes couldn’t stop wandering to your figure. How closely did you know Izanami? Why did she speak to you with such familiarity? Why were you out and about so late at night anyways?  

*****

It became a common occurrence for you to appear in the cafe. Terushima started working every day, save for Sunday night when he would crash in Izanami’s apartment for the night to prepare for his classes that following week. Each and every day that he worked, you would already be there. Working diligently in that same corner each and every time. You would have already set-up shop by the time Terushima had entered, a mug of hot chocolate on the table with your books spread out. 

It was on one such night that Terushima found himself buried in his books, pen twirling between his fingers as he reread the same line for the fifteenth time. Pinching his nose, he leaned back in his seat. He had taken to setting up a study corner at the bar right beside the counter where Izanami would typically sit. Stifling a yawn, he can’t help but glance over at your corner. You were slumped over on the table, head resting on your arms. Warmth filled him as he watched the gentle rise and fall of your chest. Terushima reached into his bag, pulling out a blanket that he’d use to nap whenever Izanami came in and gave him his breaks and lunch. Carefully making his way over to you, he draped it over your shoulders, delicately tucking it under your arms to keep you warm before he made his way back to his corner. 

It was only twenty minutes later when you slowly woke up with a soft moan, nuzzling into something soft. Your eyes blinked blearily at the warmth that covered your shoulders. Turning to look at the side, heat crept up your cheeks. Someone...had put a blanket over you? You shot up, fully awake now. Terushima jumped, startled awake by the sudden screeching of your seat. You make eye-contact with him before you quickly avert your eyes once more. Embarrassment swept over you. 

Steeling your nerves, you stand up with the blanket over your arm. “Is this yours?” you ask shyly, approaching Terushima who had his nose buried in his book. 

He straightened up quickly, looking at you before giving you a soft smile. “Yeah, sorry if that was invasive.” 

You shake your head, playing with a strand of loose hair. “I didn’t mind. Thank you.” 

His eyes sparkled as he nodded eagerly. “Anytime! Anything for my favorite customer.”

A soft giggle left you. “I’m like the only customer you see.”

“And yet you’re still my favorite,” he teased. Heat crept over you as you stood there awkwardly. 

“Oh, here you go.” You hand him the blanket. 

He takes it back gingerly. “Thanks.” Another moment of awkwardness swept over you two. “If you want,” he scratches his neck awkwardly, praying that you couldn’t see him blushing, “you can borrow my blanket whenever. I don’t mind.”

Your eyes widened as your entire body heats up now. “O-oh! I couldn’t-”

“I don’t mind!” Terushima interrupts, his cheeks darkening. “I’d rather you be comfortable if anything.” 

You both stare at each other for a moment longer. “Thanks Terushima,” you say softly before immediately spinning on your heel and heading back to your corner. Terushima couldn’t stop the grin on his face as he muttered a soft “you’re welcome” under his breath. 

***** 

The next time Terushima comes into his shift, he’s startled to find you situated at the end of the counter that he usually works at. He was even more shocked when you looked up at him, offering him a small smile. “Hi Terushima.” 

“H-hey (Name)!” He stammers, placing his bag down at his usual seat. “How’s it goin’?”

You shrug before turning back to your work. 

“So what are you studying?” You flinch, jumping. Terushima was standing in front of you behind the counter, stirring a spoon into his mug as he gazed quizzically between you and your books. 

“M-medicine,” you say, heat creeping through you.

“That’s so cool!” Terushima grinned. You weren’t sure why, but his smile was comforting. “What type of medicine do you want to get into?”

You shrug, glancing back down at the book. “I’m not really sure.” 

He cocked his head, placing the cup in front of you. You murmur a thanks, taking the mug in between your hands. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“To be honest, I don’t really want to study med.” You swallow, cursing yourself internally as anxiety filled you. Why did you just tell him that? This was the first time you guys were having an actual conversation.

“I see.” He leaned on his elbow, tapping his chin. “What would you do instead?” Another shrug. “Oh c’mon, I’m sure there’s something that you’d rather do.” 

You hum, taking a sip. “Maybe something art-related? I was always into fashion.” 

“So why’d you go into med if you don’t really like it?”

“My parents.” 

He waited for more, but you offered nothing else. “Alrighty then.” Terushima picks up his own mug, walking back around the counter back to his seat as he hummed along to whatever classical song played in the background. You eye him in the corner of your eye as he settles back into his seat before you glance back down at your work. A bubble of courage builds in you as you pick up your stuff. “Where ya goin’?” Terushima asked, alarmed when he notices what you’re doing. Worry fills him as he watches, scared that he’d driven you off by asking too many questions.

You don’t respond until you’re making your way towards him. “Can I sit here?” His brown eyes widen with shock as all he could do is wordlessly nod. “Thank you.” You flash him a small smile as you take the seat beside him, setting your stuff down and getting ready to start studying once more. Warmth filled his heart as he internally fist-pumped. Progress!

****

“Hey Teru, come try this for me.”

Terushima looked up from his books as Kioko entered the main lobby of the cafe with a tray of her recent creation. “What is it?” 

Kioko shook her head impatiently, “will you try it or not?” 

“I mean sure, but what if you’re trying to poison me or something?” 

Kioko fixed him with a hard stare. “Why would I poison my taste-tester?” 

Terushima shrugged, “maybe to get back at me for scaring you the other day?”

She rolled her eyes, “just taste this.” Kioko placed a plate down on the counter, glancing over at you. “Hey there (Name). Wanna try it too?”

You jump, startled as heat crept through you, embarrassed that you had been caught staring. “If you don’t mind,” you say shyly. 

Kioko giggled, plating another pastry and placing it in front of you. “Nah, I like you, and you’re better at feedback than Teru is.” 

“Hey!” Terushima protested, though he couldn’t stop his smile. “You know you like me.” 

“I just like that you have a bottomless stomach, Teru. Don’t mistake that for affection.” 

“Oh hey Teru, I didn’t know you worked here now.” Kioko had just arrived into the cafe, shrugging off her coat as she spotted Terushima behind the counter.

“Yep! Started a few weeks ago. Iza didn’t tell you?”

Kioko shrugged, “I’ve had the past few weeks off to visit my family. She just told me that we’re open 24 hours now.” Kioko made her way behind the counter, “guess that means you’re my new taste-tester,” she teased, ruffling Terushima’s hair. He protested, ducking under her arm to fix his hair. She noticed you sitting by Terushima’s stuff. “Hey there! I’m Kioko, the resident baker.”

You shyly waved, “hi, I’m (Name).”

Kioko tapped her chin thoughtfully, “Iza mentioned you. Lemme know if there’s anything I can do to help you.” With one final wave to you and Terushima, Kioko disappeared into the back.

An hour or so later, he found himself sitting in his usual spot. Terushima had just finished making you both a fresh cup of gingerbread hot chocolate. “Teru!” 

Terushima jumped, almost spilling his drink. “What is it, Kio?”

“Try this,” she demanded, placing a plate in front of him before disappearing into the kitchen yet again. In the corner of his eye, he sees you eyeing the pastry and subtly passes it to you.

Startled, you look up at him. “What?”

Terushima cleared his throat, turning his face to stop the smile that crept up. “I had a really big dinner. You’d be doing me a favour by eating this.” 

“Are you sure?” You hesitated, chewing on your lip and fiddling with your pen.

He nodded, pushing it closer to you. “Please?” 

With a final glance between Terushima, the pastry, and the kitchen, you accept the pastry, taking a bite out of it. “So?” You yelp, dropping it back onto the plate. “How is it?” Kioko is standing back in front of you, eagerly eyeing your expression.

Swallowing, you nod. “It’s really good! I like how the raspberry compliments the white chocolate drizzle and how the cinnamon adds another layer to it all.” 

Kioko nods, satisfied. “Thank you (Name). At least someone,” she eyes Terushima, “is descriptive!” 

“What is it anyways?” Terushima glanced over at the pastry interestedly. You subtly pass it back to him, granting him permission to take a bite. He flashes you a grin before doing so. You flush, realising that you had just given him an indirect kiss. 

“It’s a raspberry cinnamon roll with some white chocolate chips inside it and a white chocolate and cream cheese drizzle,” Kioko spouts immediately with a sparkle in her eyes. 

Terushima nods as he takes his bite. “What (Name) said.” 

Kioko scowled, “you’re so useless I swear, Teru.”

“So what is this?” You ask, examining the pastry. 

Kioko’s eyes lit up. “That, my dear, sweet, (Name), is a chaussons aux pommes. Apple slippers! These are traditional French turnovers filled with an apple compote filling.”

“What’s the difference between this and the apple squares?” Terushima asked, now staring down at the pastry too.

Kioko clicked her tongue, shaking her head with a small scowl. “The squares had sliced apples. This is apple compote, Terushima!” She looked over to you as you took your first bite. “So? How is it?”

Your eyes widened as you took another bite. “It’s so good!” You beam. “The vanilla and cinnamon really compliment the apples that you used! And the flakiness of the pastry isn’t too overwhelming. It balances out the flavour.” 

Terushima nods besides you, a thoughtful expression on his face. “This could go great with a nice mocha,” he mused. “Or a latte.”

Kioko hummed, picking one up and trying it for herself. “I think a latte would be better.”

You finish off your pastry, wiping your hand on a napkin. “Thank you for the treat, Kioko. It was really good.”

Kioko’s eyes met yours. “You’re such a sweetheart, (Name),” she said fondly, patting your head. “You’re always welcome to try out the things here.”

At her words, Terushima’s brown eyes twinkled. “Speaking of which,” he turned to you, “would you be down to try some coffee drinks?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “are you sure?” You look between Kioko and Terushima. “I mean, I don’t know if I have enough experience to do that.”

“Sure you do!” Terushima beamed. “You’re always so helpful whenever you’re taste-testing for Kioko!” 

“I mean-”

“(Name), it wouldn’t be that difficult,” Kioko interjected, offering you a soft smile. “You just tell Teru whether or not his drinks taste like shit and whether or not you’d buy it.”

“My drinks don’t taste like shit!” Terushima protested, whirling around to glare at Kioko. As you watch them banter, warmth settles in your heart. Is this what it feels like to hang out with friends? 

“Hey, Terushima?” you pipe up, interrupting as Kioko threatened to egg Terushima’s face. They both turn to you, Terushima’s eyebrows raising in surprise. 

“What’s up, (Nickname)?”

You fiddle with your pen anxiously under the heat of their gazes. “I’ll try your drinks.”

“Awesome!” He grinned. Terushima threw his apron on, moving to stand behind the counter. “You’re the best (Name).” 

Shaking your head, you buried your nose back into the books. “I’m just grateful to you both.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” 

Terushima raises an eyebrow at you but remains quiet as he bustles around behind the counter. You watch as he carefully pours some condensed milk into the glass over the ice-cubes, adding a bit of some type of herb and some vanilla. “Tada!” He announces, placing the glass in front of you.

“What is it?”

“Try it!” You take the glass, sniffing it. There was a spiced flavour that stung at your nose slightly but you took a deep breath and just tried it. “So? How do you like it?”

You smack your lips. “It’s..interesting. What is this?”

“This is a Thai-based iced coffee, but I added both cardamom and cinnamon for a warm-spice flavour and then some vanilla extract to sweeten the condensed milk a bit.” He wipes down the counter, eyeing your expression. “So?”

Taking another sip, you let out a soft hum. “It’s really good. It’s a little bit too sweet for me, but maybe it can pair well with a dark chocolate croissant? Or just some type of a plain pastry.” 

He takes the glass back, sipping it. Your cheeks grow hot at the idea of the indirect kiss, but you kept your mouth shut. “I think you’re right.” He grins at you. “You’re an awesome taste-tester, you know that?”

You shrug, averting your eyes. “Whatever you say, Terushima.”

****

“Try this.”

“What is this?” You wrinkle your nose, looking up from the ceramic mug that Terushima placed in front of you.

“What, don’t trust me?” He grinned. “It’ll be good for you. Promise.” 

“When you say it like that, it gives me less reason to trust you.” 

He raised his eyebrow, jutting his lip out in a small pout. “Aw, c’mon (Name)! I promise I would never hurt you. Will you just try it?”

You giggle, taking the mug in both hands. The heat seeped into your palms, warming your stiff fingers. “It smells really good.”

“Yes it does, now try it.”

You stick your tongue out at him before taking a sip. Your eyelids flutter shut as the taste of honey and milk sweep over your tongue. “This isn’t just honey milk, is it?”

“Well, sorta.” Terushima scratched the back of his neck. “It’s a warmed milk honey latte. I normally make it iced.”

“Why’d you make it warm then?”

He shrugged, making his way to slip into his seat. “You seemed really tired and stressed, so I figured it’d be a good pick me up. Was I right?”

Humming softly, you gave him a little nod. “Thanks Terushima. It’s good.” 

Terushima offered you a cheeky grin. “Anything for you, (Name).” He bumped his shoulder against yours. “Dunno what I would do if you weren’t here keeping me company.”

“You’re too sweet, Terushima.” 

*****

“So.”

“So?” You tilt your head as you look up at Terushima. The male had his elbows propped up as he observed you. 

He clears his throat. “We’ve been hanging out for months now.” Had it really been that long? Your eyebrows furrowed. “And I feel like I barely know you. So!” He leans back in his seat, turning his body to face yours completely now. “What’s your story?” 

Your mouth went dry. “My story?” 

He nods, eyes carefully scanning yours. “Y’know, you’re here every day. And I know you’re studying med, but I’m sure there’s other reasons why you’re here, right?” At his words, you flinch. His eyes widened, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to touch a sensitive subject. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” He moves to go back to his work, cursing himself internally for pushing you. He should’ve waited until you brought it up to pry. A warm hand reaches out to grab his, startling him. “Wha-?”

“It’s okay, Terushima.” A ghost of a smile graces your expression. “I know I don’t really talk a lot, and I’m sure you’re curious.”

His gaze softened as his heart started beating louder. “I mean, I don’t mind. I just enjoy your company.”

You nod slowly, chewing on your bottom lip slightly as your other hand fiddled with your pen. “Did Iza tell you anything? About me, I mean.”

Terushima shook his head. “She just told me that you’d tell me yourself whenever you’re ready.” Both hands started fidgeting now, causing Terushima to grab it this time. “Hey, I’m serious. You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready. I don’t mind waiting.” 

He grins earnestly at you causing you to sigh loudly. “It’s ok. I want to tell you.” You take a deep breath, sipping the gingerbread hot chocolate that Terushima had made you. “Well, like you, I was one of Iza’s classmates. We had English together.” (E/c) eyes stared into your mug. “I’m...the reason she decided to open the cafe 24 hours.”

“You?” Terushima frowned.

You let out a sheepish laugh, “yeah.” Lifting your head, you gaze off into the distance. “I live in a really toxic household,” you admit softly. “Toxic enough that I need to leave it most of the time. And Iza found out one time when she was over tutoring me.” Terushima squeezed one of your hands with an unreadable expression. You look down at your hands, squeezing his back. “Anyways, she told me that I could always come to the cafe, no matter what time and she’d let me in. This slowly became my home...things ended up getting worse and worse with my family to the point where I would be leaving at two or three in the morning sometimes.”

“(Name)...”

“It’s okay, Teru. You don’t have to feel sorry for me.” You stand up, moving to pack your stuff.

“Wait,” Terushima protested, grabbing your hands. “You don’t have to leave.”

“But-” 

Terushima shook his head, “you’re okay. I know that I’m just the barista here or whatever, but I do genuinely care for you, (Name).” He scratched his neck awkwardly. “I wanna get to know you better.” 

You blinked at him, swallowing your misgivings and pain. “You’re...you’re not scared?”

“Why would I be?” He cocked his head at you. “I mean, it’s not what I was expecting from you, but why would I see you differently for how your home life is?” Terushima squeezed your hands. “To be honest, that’s kinda the reason why Iza hired me.”

“What?” 

With Terushima’s guidance, you take your seat once more. “Well, my roommates kept kicking me out every day,” he explains solemnly. “To the point where I would end up at the cafe, and that’s why Iza decided to hire me. So that I would have somewhere to go.” He lets out a soft chuckle. “Guess it was fate!”

“Fate, huh?” You muse, staring at your intertwined fingers.

“You know what?” He snapped, his expression lightening. “Why don’t we go somewhere together?”

“What?” Your head snapped up to stare incredulously at the barista.

“Let’s go somewhere that’s not the cafe,” Terushima grinned. “We’re always here anyways. Why not try and go somewhere else together?” 

You pause, your mind reeling. Every time you’ve told your story to someone, you would end up abandoned. Izanami was the only one who didn’t do the same, and now Terushima. “...Sure.” 

If it was possible, his smile got brighter, causing you to give him one of your own. “Great!” Terushima squeezed your hand once more. “I think,” he says slowly, “that this will be the start of a beautiful relationship.”

“I didn’t know you were asking me out,” you tease softly.

He shrugs, “who knows where this’ll go!” His expression softens as he chews on his bottom lip. “But I wouldn’t mind if you don’t.”

Chewing on your lip, you shake your head. “I don’t mind either.”

*****

AN: Both Izanami and Kioko are the “Readers” from the other one-shots. 

Izanami is the Reader from Recommendations and Kioko is the Reader from Universal 

All one-shots in the Hidden Corner series exist in the same universe where characters may interact with the ‘Reader’ from the other one-shots. I will be giving each ‘Reader’ a place-holder name when they are referenced in the other one-shots to ease confusion!

This will be a side-project, so new updates will generally not be scheduled!

general taglist: @scrappydaisies​​  @newfriendjen​​

Please contact me if you would like to be a part of the Hidden Corner taglist! 💞 Check out this link for information about my taglists.

[write-like-you-mean-it]

Celebrities Need Milk Too: Haikyuu Coffee Shop AU

My favorite time of the day was walking to work. It didn’t matter the shift, daytime, or who my co-workers were. All that mattered was the music playing through my headphones as I would walk down the cracked sidewalk. I found myself staring at my reflection in window shop glass more than I looked where I was going. I trusted my feet to go where they needed because of the amount of time I’d walked this path. 

My hands mess with a misplaced hair before being covered up by a new poster in the window of a macaroon shop. My feet stop as I look at the volleyball players that littered the paper. It was for a big match up tonight against the Schweiden Adlers and MSBY Black Jackals. This particular poster seemed to be dedicated to the Adlers with their star players lit up by a golden light. 

If I was being honest, I hadn’t been paying too much attention to the recent volleyball tournament that plagued the city. All the hubbub has done is make the shop a busier than normal. 

A small buzz takes me away from the poster. I curse under my breath as I see that I was slightly late for work. My feet pick up the pace in hopes of getting there in a time that my boss would deem acceptable. 

As I got to the shop, a group of people had gathered around one person. He was taking pictures outside as if he were a celebrity. This struck me as odd because we don’t get a lot of famous people that visit this particular coffee shop. 

The so-assumed celebrity seemed to not be a fan of pictures or autographs. He had yet to figure out the perfect hand placement so that it was not awkward for the girls or himself. His smile had yet to meet his eyes and even looked like a painful experience. I couldn’t help but chuckle as the girls fawned over him. 

In-between photos, I caught the eyes of this strange man. His dark turquoise eyes seemed to be filled with a mixture of please help along with disinterest and an intensity unmatched by anyone I’d ever met. I had seen them somewhere before but I couldn’t put my finger on where. 

I, however, did not have time to ponder who this celebrity could be. No Doze Cafe was bustling with people. Almost all the tables were filled with patrons either waiting on coffee orders, studying for an upcoming test, or laughing with their group of friends. A few people were crammed at the window in hopes of getting the celebrities attention. 

“You’re late again,” called Carrie as she walked out from the back room. Her apron was covered in old stains. 

“I know,” I say while putting on my own apron. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

“I really should keep a tally of how many times you’ve told me you won’t be late again.” Her voice may have been teasing but I could feel her pressing me about my tardiness. 

“Or you could just dock my pay like you keep saying you will,” I comment while picking up the closest cup. I read the marking scribbled on the side. White Peppermint Mocha: Our most popular seller around the holiday seasons. 

I quickly mixed this drink while preparing for the rush of customers that would likely enter the shop if the guy ever was given a break. “Akashi,” I call while placing the drink on the counter. 

My fears became a reality as the swarm of people followed right behind the guy from outside. I found myself cursing his very own existence. Instead of immediately stepping into line, he decides to take a seat, pull out his phone, and start watching some video.

Rather than comment on his strange behavior, Carrie shouted at me to get back to work. She can sometimes get grouchy if enough people have pissed her off today. Sadly, I was one of them. 

As the day grew later and later, people became less interested in the celebrity and more interested in getting their coffee to go. The after school rush had simmered to a slow boil. There were a few people still seated at tables watching the man. 

Carrie decided to take a small smoke break to clear her head from the rush. I was left taking and filling orders. 

“See you later Ms,” called one of the regular high school students. I waved goodbye to him before walking back to the cash register. To my surprise, it was the man from outside. 

“Oh it’s you,” I say. 

His eyes narrow to the same intense expression-filled scowl he had earlier in the day. “Would you want a picture or something?” he asked. His voice was filled with annoyance and a little disappointment. 

“No,” I commented. “I wasn’t expecting you to actually get anything after you didn’t get in line at the start.”

He paused. It was the same pause that I had given him earlier when we locked eyes. It was the feeling of confusion mixed with a little wonder. “You were watching me?”

A heat flushed along my  cheeks. “I-I was watching you because of the crowd. We normally don’t get celebrities in the cafe.”

I could’ve sworn that the same blush on my cheeks mirrored on his. “I wouldn’t say that I’m a celebrity,” he said. “I’m just well known.”

“Well, sorry for calling you a celebrity,” I say, trying to make up for my misstep. “What could I get for you?”

He looked around as if to spy on anyone that would listen to his order. “That’s actually what I would need help with. I haven’t visited a coffee shop before. A friend of mine said that you made good hot chocolate with real milk. He said it was the best he’s ever had.”

“Oh would you like to try the hot chocolate?” I ask. “We import some of the cocoa from a shop in Paris.”

“Is there anything else with a lot of milk? I’m not a huge fan of chocolate.” His face flushed harder. It was a cute look to break up the angry intensity of his normal face. 

I giggle before responding, “Yes we have plenty of items made with milk. Would you want something cold or hot?”

“I guess cold,” he mumbled. “Also could you add coffee?”

“Yes we can,” I say with my typical retail smile. “I would recommend a Macchiato. It has two shots of espresso with a base of milk. I enjoy the drink a lot. I would get a shot of some flavor in it though.”

“I’m fine without the flavor,” he said. “But make it a large.”

“And can I get a name for that order?”

“Kageyama.”

Suddenly, the names of the teammates on the poster flash before my eyes. His name was highlighted under one of the players. That was where I remember seeing his eyes before. “You’re the setter for the big game tonight.”

The comment must’ve caught him off guard. The already pink cheeks became an even darker shade of red. “Y-yes I am,” he commented before pulling out the money to pay. “You can keep the change. Think of it as a tip.”

He handed me six extra dollars about the cost of his drink. “I can’t take this,” I say while pushing the money back into his hands. “That’s too much as a tip.”

“N-no. I insist.” He pushed the money back into my hands. “You helped me a lot.”

“If you’re sure.” I make the change before placing the rest of the money into the tip jar. “That was very nice of you.”

“No problem.” Embarrassment must’ve been too much for him because Kageyama walked towards the end of the bar. I quickly make his drink before handing it over to him. 

“Here you go sir. One Macchiato.” I turn away before he stutters out “W-wait.”

I turn back to see that he is looking at the drink. “W-would you be at the game tonight?”

“Oh, I don’t get off work until really late. I doubt my boss will allow me to go.”

Kageyama scoffed before looking back up at me. “I-I would really appreciate it if you could be there. I don’t have lots of pull but I could pay a little extra if you can get off.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“No,” he stammers. “I was just asking because you’ve really helped me and I want to see you more.”

A smile crossed my face before I picked up a napkin off the counter and my pen. I wrote down my number and placed the napkin on top of his cup. “I don’t think I can come tonight,” I comment. “However, I’d love to see you again too, Kageyama.”

“O-oh,” he stutters before locking eyes with me. The faint blush had faded. “I’ll give you a call after my game. Maybe we can meet up and I can show you the video.”

“I’d love that,” I say. The black-haired man seemed confused that his confession had worked. He bid me a farewell before walking out the door. 

“What was that guy’s deal?” asked Carrie. She must’ve finished up her cigarette in the time we were talking. 

“That- my dear Carrie- is the celebrity that was outside.”

Haikyuu Masterlist

(This series is a choose your own adventure. Pick your favorite man or all of them. I will try to make as many of them as possible with continuations. So far, there is Oikawa, Sugawara, Tuskishima, and Kageyama. If you have a suggestion or comment, please message me!!)

[writingdreamsnottragedies]

BTS Reaction // How you meet them

Namjoon

Art galleries were a real asset to you. Not only on rainy days you were drawn to the cool rooms full of works of art, even when the sun was in the clear sky you preferred to spend your time there. When you received the booklet of a gallery announcing an exhibition of your favorite artist, your next visit was already fixed.

As so often you avoid the first days of the exhibition to keep away from the big visitor crowds. The day you finally enter the rooms is sunny and hot, a day when most people prefer a cool drink and the outdoor pool. You like the way your footsteps echo in the empty corridors, the silence turns the place into something magical. Apart from an inconspicuous man with a cap, you really seem to be the only visitor and it is a great feeling, as you can completely lose yourself in the vision of the artist. You read every single description, let it work on you and add your own interpretations.

Only when you sit down on one of the benches after a while to rest for a moment you notice the man again. He enters the room after you and just like you he seems to barely notice you. You watch him for a while. Like you, he goes from painting to painting and just like you, he looks at each one intensively. He seems to think the same way as you and several times you find yourself connecting him in your mind with the paintings and creating completely new works of art. He stays longer at one painting and you can see how he frowns. The words come over your lips as if by themselves: “This is one of the best pictures of him”. The young man flinches and instinctively takes a step back before turning to you. Apparently, he didn’t notice your presence until now. “It’s even my favorite, but I can’t figure it out.” He looks up and you can see in his facial expression that this is a condition he does not experience too often.

You smile and pat the bench next to you: “I can tell you what I think about it, if you like.” The man seems to think for a moment, then he comes to you: “I’m Kim Namjoon”. He sits down next to you, looks at you expectantly: “So what did the artist want to express with this painting?”

Seokjin

At first you weren’t sure if it was a good idea to accompany your little sister to her primary school’s cooking competition, but she almost begged you, as your parents were prevented by work at short notice. Your dad had indicated in advance that he wanted to make homemade pasta and so you spent nights trying to make more or less successful attempts in your own kitchen before the big day arrived.

Now that you are standing at one of the kitchen counters, you realize that the preparation was worth it. Even your little sister has her fun, every time she turns the pasta machine and watches with fascination how the dough ball flattens more and more and finally turns into fine tagliatelle.  

You’re weighing the flour for another load of pasta, this time with little mushrooms in the dough, which are cleaned by your sister, when a voice interrupts your concentration.

“Excuse me?”

You pause in your activity and look up. A man stands in front of you and for a moment your breath stops because he is so incredibly handsome. He’s holding a salt shaker in his hand. When he notices that he has your attention, he turns it around. For a short moment you think all the salt would fall on your work surface, but nothing happens: "We made a mistake”. The man points to a little boy a few seats away who is staring curiously at you. On the work surface you can see a real collection of vegetables and other ingredients: “My nephew and I have bought so much that we forgot the salt”. A smile comes over your lips: “I’ll see if we have any left.” You go to the bags that still contain some of your own purchases: “My name is Seokjin, but Jin is enough” You repeat his name before returning to him: “Nice to meet you. My name is Y/N” With a triumphant grin, you hold out the packet of salt to him: “But don’t use it all at once.” He laughs and thanks you, and prepares to leave. But then he turns to you once again:  

“By the way, it doesn’t mean that we’ll lose just because I had to borrow some salt” Your grin widens as you turn back to the flour: “We’ll see”.

Yoongi

You had already taken many jobs during your holidays, but working in your uncle’s furniture store was something new. But you didn’t mind, the other employees were friendly and every week you were assigned to a different department. Not only did you learn a lot about the advantages of certain materials and types of furniture, you also came into contact with a wide variety of customers. In short, you enjoyed the work and were proud when your first recommendation was actually bought.

This week you were assigned to the team of the bed department and here you liked it best by far. Elderly people appreciated that you recommended the softest mattresses to them and children loved you for letting them jump on the beds while no one was looking. Sometimes, when time allowed and their parents were provided with your colleague, you played hide-and-seek with them in the children’s bed department and pretended not to see them through the elaborate knight’s castle and princess beds.

Your shift is coming to an end and you have to admit you’re exhausted. Especially today had been a turbulent day and all you wanted to do was go home. However, you promised your colleague that you would make another inspection tour of the department. As always, you pass the children’s section and look at one of the largest beds. A canopy bed with a ladder and slide. You remember the fun you had with a little girl a few hours before and decide that it can’t hurt to end the day with a little slide. But when you successfully climbed the ladder a little scream escapes you. There’s a man in the bed. He must have heard your reaction, because his eyes open and look at you drowsily:

“What are you doing in my room?”

Your heart is racing, but you force yourself to stay calm: “Sir, I’m sorry…” “Min Yoongi” he throws in and slowly straightens up as he rubs his eyes. The completely absurd thought that he looks good with the tousled hair hits you and you can’t shake it off: “Mr. Min…we are already closed. I must ask you to leave” He looks at you and slowly he seems to understand: “Oh…” he mumbles. Then he lets himself fall back on the mattress: “Seems like I have to buy this bed. I have not slept so well in a long time”.

Hoseok

That morning you thought the coffee stain on your favourite top was the worst thing that could happen. You knew better by now.

Actually, you were just trying to make him happy. A lunch, homemade to bring something to his work, so he could skip the canteen. You’d gone to all that effort, standing in the kitchen all morning.

However, your boyfriend had decided to get his meal somewhere else. That and more.

Your steps feel heavy as you walk across the terrain. A few people, on their way to their lunch break, stare at you and you try to suppress your tears as best you can, but you might not be able to.  At some point you give up, let yourself sink to the ground a little off the beaten track. Now you’re letting your tears run free. A thousand thoughts are spinning around in your head. Why had he done that? Weren’t you good enough? Not pretty enough? “What the hell is wrong with me?”

“Only your tears”.

Your vision is blurred and therefore it takes a while before you can recognize the person in front of you. He kneels before you.  You can see neither pity nor amusement in his face, instead a gentle smile adorns his lips. He holds a handkerchief out to you. First you hesitate, then you take it. You don’t care that he can see you wiping your nose after you sniffle a few times. Then you wipe the back of your hand over your eyes: “Thank you” “Do you want to talk about it? I am known for giving hope to others and bringing a little sunshine into their lives” The way he says it, the way he smiles at you makes you smile too. Which in turn makes his smile even wider: “See, it already works! You look much prettier with a smile than with tears.” He turns away, only to turn back to you a few moments later to again hold something out to you. This time it’ s a daisy:   "I’m Hoseok, but most people call me J-Hope, because i’m their hope. Let me be your hope too".

Jimin

Orientation had never been your strength, but it had never been as bad as now. Actually, you were gonna meet your best friend in the city. You had just moved to Seoul and didn’t know your way around yet. That’s how, without knowing it, you got off one station too early. With the thought of being in the right place, you set off, always looking for the mall where you wanted to meet. You hadn’t noticed how you were moving away from the main roads and into quieter areas where there were hardly any people.

By the time you realize your mistake, it’s already too late. Nervously you look around you, but you can no longer make out where exactly you have come from. You pull out your cell phone to call your friend, but then realize your next mistake, because the battery is in a dangerous red zone. Panic is rising in you. You have no idea where you are and people just walk past you from time to time. None of them looks like they are going to help you when you ask for directions and you are not sure if your fear would even allow it. The longer you are in this state, the more your surroundings seem to turn, the more dull the sounds in your ears become. You’re about to just sit on the street when you hear a voice. It is clear, distinct and beautiful. Something about it seems to calm you down. Even if you run the risk of getting even more lost you follow instinctively.

You land in an alleyway that ends at a stairway. A man sits on it. Over his full lips come the most beautiful sounds you have ever heard. When he notices you, he stops immediately. The sudden halt also brings you back to reality and you become aware again of the situation you are in. Your face seems to speak for itself, because the look of the man becomes concerned. Carefully he comes towards you, “Are you all right?” “I’m… I’m lost.” Your voice trembles and yet the words bubble out of your mouth: “I panicked and then I heard you singing and followed your voice and…” You break off because you feel so stupid, but the man just laughs: “Then you can be glad that I am not a siren”. He walks past you, then he turns and reaches out his hand to you: “I’ m Jimin. Tell me where you need to go, and I can take you there.”

Taehyung

The sun is just rising as you leave your apartment. It’s still fresh and you’re thinking about going back inside to get a jacket. But your dog has other plans and a pull on the leash makes it clear to you that a return would only be possible after an extensive walk.

As so often, your route takes you through the city park, at this time of the day still empty and not overcrowded as in the later hours. There is dew on the grass, the air is fresh and you pause for a moment to take a deep breath. Then you let your dog off the leash and let her run free. As good as she is she always stays close to you and finally you sit down on a bench to welcome the first rays of sunshine on your face. Soon your bitch will lie down next to your feet and you will enjoy the peace and quiet that you can only have in the early morning. Suddenly you see something. It’s small and it’s coming towards you. You can’t recognize it immediately, but your dog jumps up excitedly, which also makes you attentive. Before you even know it, a little dog is joining you. The two sniff each other shortly before they start playing together. You let it happen and try to look for the owner, but there is no need to do so, because instead you can hear him:

“Yeontan? Yeontan!”

He comes out of the undergrowth at the edge of the path. When he sees the little dog, he runs towards him and takes him in his arms: “Yeontan! You’re okay!” His clothes are dirty and in his dark hair a few leaves are hanging. You can’t help but laugh. He looks up and only now seems to notice you and your dog: “Thank you so much for finding him!” “I didn’t.” You point to your dog, “She did. The two seem to get along well”. As if to underline your words, the little dog starts fidgeting in the man’s arms so that he has to put him down. Again both dogs start to romp together. Your gaze wanders from them back to the man and your finger points to his head: “You should do something about that” “Huh?” he strokes through his hair and a lot of leaves fall to the ground, something that only makes you laugh harder. He joins in as he brushes his hair a few times and then pats the earth off his clothes. Then he turns back to you, “Thank you again… um…” “Y/N. I’m Y/N” “Nice to meet you. I’m Taeyhung.”

Jungkook

Being out with your friends made you bloom. Were you usually rather shy and reserved, with them you were open and ready for any fun. You had ice cream together, took some pictures of each other making faces. At some point you started to give one another some fun tasks. You watched as one of your friends gave a real dance performance and another one had an extremely interesting conversation with some pigeons.

When it is your turn, your stomach already hurts, you had to laugh so much. Your friends whisper to each other and you wonder what kind of task you will get. Finally, one of them turns to you. She points her finger at something: "Pretend you know him and ask him for an autograph!” The smile disappears from your lips: “I can’t do that” “Come on Y/N!” another one of your friends laughs: “I talked to pigeons! You can do it!” You keep trying to talk it out, but eventually you give in. Sighing, you get ready before you approach the man. He stands with his back to your group and seems to be completely absorbed in his mobile phone. You hesitate for a moment, because you don’t want to bother him, but then you pull yourself together: “Excuse me?”

He turns to you and there’s a brief flash of confusion on his face before he looks at you: “Yes?” You, on the other hand, are distracted because you didn’t expect a cute guy like that to be standing in front of you: “I’m… I’m…” All the self-confidence you’ve built up for this action seems to have faded away: “I mean, I’d like to…” “I understand.” He smiles at you encouragingly and pulls a pencil out of his jacket: “I am on a private tour, so please don’t take any photos”. Now you don’t understand anything anymore: “No, I…I’m only supposed to ask for an autograph because my friends put me up to it…like a dare.” You look back at your friends because the whole thing gets more and more uncomfortable with every stiffening second. They stand a few feet away and lift their thumbs so the guy can’t see, “What’s your name?” “Y/N” You hear him laugh, you look at him again. He stretches out two pieces of folded paper to you: “You can show one to your friends. The other one…” For a moment you think you can see blush in his face: “Please keep the other one to yourself”. He gives you another smile before he suggests a slight wave, turns around and leaves.

You also go back to your friends and show them the paper with the autograph. In the evening you take out the second piece of paper the man gave you. There’ s a little note on it: “My name is Jungkook. If you like, I would like to have a coffee with you sometime”. Underneath you find a phone number.

[romantic-barnes]

gin, tonic & a lemon on top

Pairings: fluffy!bucky x bartender!reader

Summary: Maybe Bucky’s an alcoholic or maybe he just has a crush on the sweet like syrup bartender.

Warnings: alcohol consumption

Bucky Barnes, the college student struggling to put food on his plate, eating ramen noodles like any other in his shoes. The one who spends too much money on textbooks and tutors, now sitting at the bar of one of the few places good enough to pay a visit to.

Bucky has a knack for alcohol, not the bad type; he just enjoys himself a long-drink or a cocktail once in a while. It’s something that struck his interest oddly enough. 

Now here he sat, a Knickerbocker Martini in hand but his eyes fixed on the woman behind the bar.

She’s somethin’ else.

Her all black outfit blended her in with the other staff if you didn’t care to look hard enough (or too drunk). 

Bucky emptied his drink in one gulp, the dry vermouth stinging in his throat. 

“Excuse me?” He called out, catching the attention of the girl. She walked over to him, a polite smile on her pink lips.

“What can I get you?”

“A gin tonic, doll.” 

She went right ahead, grabbing a glass from behind her, filling the glass with ice and alcohol, a slice of lemon on top. She slid the drink in his direction taking Bucky’s money in return.

He stared at the drink for a minute, his eyebrows wrinkling. “Where’s the cucumber?” He asked, not rudely, but with a smirk playing on his lips.

The bartender chuckled. “Well, if you must know, Tanquery gin is actually infused with citrus fruit, not cucumber.” She leaned on the counter, pointing a finger at the drink. “That’s why we put a slice of lemon in it.”

Bucky’s lips parted slightly, dumbfounded by the knowledge he was hit with. He could smell her perfume from the close proximity.

-

Bucky send Steve a quick apology, arriving at the bar just in time for happy hour. 

Although he could’ve hung out with Steve and Scott, he’d rather spend his time eyeing the pretty bartender, besides drinking. 

Bucky slipped onto the bar stool he had almost claimed for himself and started to look around for her. He didn’t know her name, or if she even worked tonight, but he was hopeful nonetheless. 

Just in time for him to order, she appeared around the corner, walking behind the bar. They locked eyes and Bucky flashed her a million dollar smile. 

“You again. Should I be worried you’re stalking me?” 

“Oh god no, but I should call the police on you and have them arrest you for being so damn pretty.” Bucky shut his mouth before he could say anything further. His face glowing red afraid he stepped over a line.

“Please do, I like being handcuffed.” She winked at Bucky and he chuckled. 

“Kinky.” 

“What are you having today?” 

“Mojito.” Bucky said without looking at the small menu of drinks.

“Classic. I see.” 

She went ahead and mixed his drink, throwing a few leaves of mint in a glass, lime and syrup. Ice was added and liquid. She finished off his drink with powdered sugar on top of a tree of mint. 

Bucky took a sip from it, satisfaction written on his face. “No brown sugar?” 

The bartender chuckled. “No, we make our Mojito the Italian way.”

“Why’s that?” Bucky took another sip, contend with the taste.

“Because the owner is Italian.”

-

The following week Bucky couldn’t wait to see the cute bartender again. Between classes he tried on different outfits to find one that would look good enough to catch her attention, but also casual enough to not seem desperate for it.

His efforts didn’t go unnoticed though, his two friends teasing him and asking questions nonstop. Bucky wouldn’t give in to it though, his mind focused on the girl he was trying to impress. 

The days ended slower than Bucky would like to and friday rolled around after all. He mentally prepared himself to make a move, exhaling heavily upon entering the bar. 

Sat on the bar stool he had chosen as his favourite, he watched with curious eyes, the girl mixing drinks with ease, like it’s so engraved in her body she doesn’t have to look at the bottles to know which one is which.

“Hey there.” She smiled, approaching Bucky. 

“Hey.” Bucky wiped his hands on his jeans. “Can you recommend something for me?” 

She thought for a moment, grabbing all the ingredients, mixing them up and setting the finished product on the bar top. 

Bucky was about to fish money out of his wallet, but she stopped him. 

“This ones on me.” 

Bucky’s cheeks warmed up from the gesture, shyly looking away from her eyes to the drink in front of him. Within seconds he could tell it was Tequila Sunrise, the orange to red gradient giving it away.

“A Tequila Sunrise?” Bucky quirked a brow, stirring the orange and red together. 

“It’s my favourite.” She watched as he sipped. “I like my drinks like I like my men. Sweet.” She said, quiet enough for only Bucky to hear.

He choked slightly, making her laugh. She walked away tending to the other customers, her head turning to him, winking.

He forgot all about the move he wanted to make, too flustered to say another word.

-

“Just take us with you, Buck come on!” Scott whined.

“Yeah, we wanna know who took your sanity.” Steve followed up, smiling at his friend.

“No, you guys are just going to embaress me.” Bucky mumbled, sliding his arms through his jacket. 

Despite all efforts to keep Steve and Scott away, they insisted and wouldn’t drop it until Bucky gave in, even following him outside. 

They reached the bar, Bucky nervously biting his lip. Luckily for him, there seemed to be a good amount of people scattered around the bar to keep the barkeeper distracted.

He needed to find the courage somewhere within himself to speak up, but Steve took the lead waving his arm at the girl. Bucky lowered his head afraid of what might come.

“Good evening gentlemen, what can I get you?” 

“I’ll have a uh,” Steve took a quick glance at the menu, “Apricot Lady.”

“One Bee’s Kiss for me.” Scott said, glancing over to Bucky to let him order.

He slowly lifted his head, surprise in the bartenders eyes as they connected with his. “A Moscow Mule.” He smiled shyly.

“Is that her?” Scott asked earning a confused look from her. Bucky’s cheeks tinting bright red.

She smirked, working on the three cocktails. “Depends on who I’m supposed to be.”

“Excuse my friends, they’re idiots.” Bucky glared at Scott and then Steve who were smiling, knowing exactly that she’s the woman he’s been so whipped for.

She set the drinks in front of the three men, tending to the other costumers at the bar. 

“Why haven’t you made your move yet?” Steve looked at Bucky.

Bucky let his shoulders drop, his lips forming to a frown. “I don’t know if she likes me.” 

“Aw come on, anyone with eyes can see that she’s interested to see what Bucky Barnes has in store.” Scott patted Bucky on his shoulder a reassuring smile on his face.

“Look, she’s coming back.” Steve nodded to her and Bucky’s gaze shifted from his friends to the bartender. “We’re just going to go get some fresh air.” 

Bucky opened his mouth to protest, but both Scott and Steve were already out of reach.

“Your friends left you all alone, how rude.” She said, leaning her elbows on the bar top, her head resting in the palms of her hands. 

“Yes, they uh - they.” Bucky stuttered, quickly trying to search for some confidence, unsuccessfully. 

The bartender leaned in, her eyes warm and full of affection. “My shift ends in ten minutes, maybe I could accompany you instead of your friends.” 

Bucky’s mouth opened slightly, taken back by the question.

“I promise I won’t abandon you like them.” 

Bucky nodded a smile stretching across his face. “I’d love that.”

“What’s your name?” She asked, slowly moving away from the bar top. 

“Bucky and yours?”

“Y/n.”

[neerasrealm]

platonic ivan x reader. ft. am dhaegar. please. my soul needs it.

AYY this is based off a convo we had in pms. sorry this took so long HDFHSJ i just kept losing energy n stuff whoops. but anyway iVAN MY BOY!! i dont write about my ocs nearly enough lol. this is set in the future au i guess? idk its a few months after zalgo gets yeeted into a coma and his brother Am has finally decided to stop sulking in the void. and also Ivan is his pet cat

It’s...such a big house. Bigger than you thought it’d be. When they told you they were going to live somewhere among humans, you thought they’d try something...subtle. Simple. Quaint. But no, apparently their idea of ‘’blending in with normal people’’ is a gigantic, upperclass house in New Orleans. It’s so….fancy. It makes you feel guilty for only bringing a basket of cheap store-bought muffins as a housewarming present. Should you have brought champagne? Do- do they even drink champagne...?

You open the metal gate and walk down the garden path. It’s all so...rich...and white. You stop on the porch and grab the fancy door knocker. When that doesn’t get a response, you look around for a doorbell. Oh! Okay- you ring the bell and step back a bit. There’s some muffled thumps from inside, and a silhouette appears in the glazed glass of the door and then-

‘’y/n!’’ the door swings open and someone reaches out, yanking you inside. You’re hugged tight against a strong, cold body. You hear the door shut behind you. If anyone was watching you from outside, they’d probably assume they just witnessed the last moments before your murder. But no, you’re not going to be killed, even though the hug you’re stuck in feels like it. 

‘’Ivan- Ivan, buddy, you’re crushing me-’’ you grunt out. You’re dropped and you shift your muffin basket in your arms. Yeah no being hugged with a muffin basket in between you isn’t good, don’t recommend. Thankfully there’s plastic over the muffins, so they’re fine. Mostly. You look up at your friend, Ivan. from the name you’d be expecting some burly russian stereotype, but no. Because stereotypes aren’t funny 90% of the time. 

Ivan is tall and strong, yes, but- well- he’s not...human. He’s a demon. Specifically, a demon made of ice cream. Yeah you heard me. His hair, if you could call it that, is just some drips that hang over the top of his head like hair, covered with pink and green sauce and random sprinkles. His ‘skin’ is coloured cream and pink, with the occasional splatter of chocolate. His hands are the same, but with the addition of claws. His legs are bent, like an animal’s, and he has a large tail that swishes behind him, topped with an ice cream scoop of all things. He’s wearing his usual pink button-up shirt and blue jeans. He grins at you with colorful gumdrop teeth, the cones on the top of his head tilting up as if they were ears. You soften and smile at him.

‘’It’s good to see you too, bud.’’ you murmur. You glance around the front hall. ‘’So...this is where you guys are living…?’’

‘’Uh-huh!’’ Ivan gives a nod and looks around. ‘’Pretty fancy, huh? Never thought I’d see a loser like me in a place like this…’’ 

‘’Yeah, your truck out front looks so out of place.’’

Ivan turns to you and glares at you. ‘’Hey! Be nice to Vanessa!’’ he growls. You laugh a bit.

‘’Sorry, sorry.’’ you reply quickly. Ivan loves his truck. He did live out of it for years after all, so you can’t really blame him. ‘’So...is she retired now?’’ you ask. He blinks.

‘’Heheh, no. She’s got fuel in her yet. I’m just gonna stop sleeping in her.’’ he shrugs and turns. ‘’C’mon, lemme show you around!’’ you follow after him quickly. The front hall is large, with doors to either side and one at the back besides the stairs. You follow Ivan through the door at the back and find yourself in a large room. To your left is the kitchen. It’s large and modern, with not one but two ovens stacked on top of each other, AND a kitchen island. Across the wall from you is a series of full-body windows that bask the room in light. There isn’t much else in the room- in fact, the only furniture is boxes, wooden stools and folding chairs. Actually looking closer- the boxes being used for tables are from Ikea. You look at Ivan.

‘’...where’s your stuff?’’

‘’Oh! We haven’t built the furniture yet.’’ Ivan chuckles. ‘’It’s fine! We’ll get to it soon.’’ he adds.

‘’...huh.’’ you reply. Ivan looks away from you and frowns. He pads away from you, the claws on his feet clicking against the tiles.

"Am! Am, y/n is here!" He calls. You hear thumping coming from another room and then a large, eldritch creature steps into the room. He's gigantic though you know he's not even at his full size. His body is covered in soft fur, save for his hands, feet and face, which are all made of ice. A collar of bright amethysts circles his neck. He has no mouth, just dozens of eyes. The biggest one, right in the centre of his head, is closed. He has a gigantic tail, spiked with sparkling gems, and a pair of wings that are just barely visible behind him..

"Y/n!" He exclaims in a deep, but surprisingly soothing voice. How he speaks with no mouth you have no idea but at this point you've given up on questioning that kind of thing. He walks towards you and crouches down, tugging you gently into a very careful hug against his chubby, fluffy body. You laugh a bit. Am is a lot more gentle, like a kind old grandpa. You pat his chest.

"Hey big guy." You greet. He chuckles a bit and moves away. You hold up your muffin basket. "Brought you a housewarming gift."

His eyes, at least some of them, widen. "Oh!" He reaches out and gently takes the basket in his big ol hands. "Thank you y/n, you shouldn't have." He murmurs. Ivan skitters over and grabs one, unwrapping it quickly and taking a bite.

"Yeah, you shouldn't have." He parrots through a mouth full of muffin. Am pets his head affectionately.

"Yeah I did." You say with a smile. "It's a human custom. You are trying to learn to fit in with them after all." You add with a wink. Am looks surprised. 

"Oh! Oh- well, alright then." He gives you a sheepish look. "Come, come, sit down. Can't leave you standing there." He gestures for you to follow him over to the other side of the room so you can sit down in one of the lawn chairs. Ivan runs after him, far quicker than necessary, and throws himself onto...a box. He lays down, curling up like a cat. Am pats his head as he walks past him and sits on the ground. You roll your eyes and go over to join them.

"So how're things back at the mansion?" Ivan asks as you sit down in a cheap blue lawn chair. 

"It's alright. Crowded- since we got so many new people…" you chuckle a bit. "There's these two kids, Doby and Toby and I can't tell which one's which! They hang around each other constantly! And then you throw Cody into the mix and I have no idea who's who!"

Ivan laughs, his tail swishing. "Sounds rough," he takes the last bite of his muffin and crumples up the wrapper. "How're the kids?" 

Ivan has always had a soft spot for children. Especially the ones in the mansion. "Sally is- well- Sally. She's still trying to keep everyone in high spirits. Slendra...she's become really mature honestly. She helps EJ in the medbay, she cooks meals, she cleans and gardens- she's a good kid...I think she's trying to help keep Slender from overworking himself."

Ivan smiles. "Awe. That's sweet."

"She's such a kind girl…" Am murmurs. You smile a bit. Slendra is technically his niece, and even though they barely know one another, the two seem to adore each other.

"Yeah, she is." You recline back in the chair. "So how's living together going?"

"Oh it's wonderful!" Am chirps. "All these years I watched over the human world but- living here is so much different!" 

"He lost his goddamn mind when we went to ikea." Ivan says, looking at you. You laugh. 

"Well- it's gigantic!" Am replies defensively. 

"That's a lot coming from you, big guy." You say with a smirk. Am laughs.

"Fair, fair." 

‘’So what’s your favorite thing so far? You’ve never like- done anything with humans before, right?’’ you cock a brow curiously at him. Am hums and squints a few of his many eyes. Ivan watches him curiously. 

‘’Coffee?’’ he suggests. ‘’You drink a lot of it.’’ Am shakes his head. ‘’Cooking? You had a lot of fun doing that!’’

‘’No, no.’’ Am waves him off. He looks at Ivan for a long moment. ‘’...I think it’s you.’’ 

Ivan blinks. ‘’Me?’’

Am looks pleased with himself. He nods, then reaches over and gently pats Ivan’s head with one of his giant fingers. ‘’Yes. I think you’re my favorite.’’ he chuckles.

‘‘That’s a cop-out. He isn’t even human.’‘ you mutter.

[sgnserena]

* TASK 001 ___ GENERAL PHONE QUESTIONS ;

what kind of cell phone do you have? :   —  iphone 11 pro in gold, with a black and gold marble case

how often do you use your cell phone? :   —  an average amount as most her age do

what is your phone’s lock screen photo? :   —   above ( left ), one of her most liked photos on her instagram from last year

what is your phone’s home screen photo? : —   above ( right ), she likes to be ~ aesthetic ~ kind of.

how many contacts do you have in your phone? :   —   she doesn’t keep count but she’s sure it’s a lot — she doesn’t delete contacts, unless you’ve done her wrong, and that’s mainly because someone could possibly be of use one day.

do you customize contact names or enter as given names? :   —   mostly customized with different ‘codenames’ that she gives people. if you’re special, she’ll use your actual name and an emoji since it’s easier for her to look up.

what is their default ringtone? : —   she would have it to something fun like ‘there some hoes in the house’ beat from wap  —  cardi b feat. megan thee stallion, but she’s afraid of having it go off while she’s on a date with her sugar daddies. because of that, it’s currently the mighty morphin power rangers theme song. y’know, something more family friendly.

do you have personalized ringtones for your contacts or does everyone use the default ringtone? : —  default ringtone, she can’t be fucked to give people personal ones.

how many alarms do you have set and why? : —  she has 4 alarms total; one set up 10 minutes before she needs to get up for her monday & wednesday classes, then another set for the time she has to get up. it’s the same for her tuesday & thursday classes as well  —  she doesn’t have class on fridays. she doesn’t have a hard time getting up in the mornings, but she likes to take those 10 minutes to prepare herself for the day.

what are your top 3 most used apps? : —  imessage, seekingarrangement, calendar app

what are your favorite apps? : —  burner app ; also one of her most used -- do you think she’s going to give these old ass men her actual phone number? absolutely not. on top of that, she loves the fact that she can just delete a phone number and get a new one at the blink of an eye in case something goes wrong. best money she’s ever spent on an app —   helix waltz ; a guilty pleasure that she’ll probably never tell most, but it’s a dress up game that she loves to play during her downtime. she ... may have spent an unhealthy amount of money on power ups and outfits as well.

—   cash app ; nothing beats an notification that states that money has been sent to your cash app tbh, the best way to get her excited.

what are your last 3 google searches or the last 3 things you’ve asked your built in ai? : —  what does 개이득 mean —  veterinary grad school application fee —  how bad do pleaser shoes hurt

do you delete your internet search history or use incognito mode? if so, how often, and why? : —   no, because she doesn’t feel the need to. no one else is using her phone besides her, so she isn’t afraid of what comes up on her searches.

do you download music or use a streaming app? if so, which one and why? : —   streaming app, she uses spotify because the curated playlists are too good to pass up. if you see ads for lingerie on her phone, then maybe you’re too damn close in the first place.

what are the last 3 songs you’ve listen to on your phone? : —   ungodly hour  —  chloe & halle —   all night  —  bree runway —   react  —  the pussycat dolls

what does your photo album consist of? : —   an amalgam of so many things ; selfies that she’s made hyungwon take of her, class notes / slides that she couldn’t write down fast enough, pictures of stray cats and dogs she happens to see ( and videos of her trying to lure them back with her ), funny screenshots of messages from seeking arrangement / instagram dms / tinder, drunken videos, thirst traps and nsfw pictures ( use your imagination 👀 ), and pictures of nature & the sky.

what is your texting style? do you reply quickly or are you a slow texter? do you send several messages at a time or paragraphs? : —  an average texting time, though she will reply quicker if you’re a close friend. she actually hates people that send 50 texts at a time, as it makes her worried that something’s wrong -- so she tries to send as less texts as possible. definitely a paragraph girl.

what are the last 3 texts you’ve sent? : —   hyungwon​ ; “ don’t @ me but what do i have to do to get you to watch the sonic movie with me? ” —   sugar daddy #2 ; “ are you at a meeting? i have a little something i want to show you 👀👅 ” —  hyunjoo ; “ do you feel better now? “

who do you text the most? : —  sugar daddy #2 & hyungwon. sugar daddy #2 is the clingy type and wants constant communication. she honestly can’t stand it but she plays up the manic pixie dream girl role he expects of her and he pays very handsomely, so it’s all worth it.

what are your top 6 used emojis? : —   🤔🥴💩😒👅💕 —   the last one is for her sugar daddies, naturally.

how often do you call others? : —  hardly. she doesn’t see the need since text is faster, and she genuinely does not like speaking on the phone. she’ll only call if you’re a sugar daddy that requires it, if it’s an emergency, or if you’re running late to something with her. or if she’s drunk. drunk serena adores phone calls since texting is hard.

who where the last 3 calls made to and why? : —  sugar daddy #2 ; again, the clingy type who wanted to speak to her after class. —  a professor ; she wanted to speak about her letters of recommendation for grad school —   grandmother ; she missed her call so naturally she returned it back, they talked about how things were going for her and how they miss each other

who do you call the most? : —  her sugar daddies. a lot of them still prefer phone calls over texts, which she assumes is a generational thing.

do you have someone blocked? if so, who and why? : —  she only has one number blocked, and it was guy who kind of turned into a stalker. she ended up getting one of her ripped guy friends from the gym on him and threatened him with a knife to get him to back off, but she’s still slightly afraid that he’s still out there somewhere.

are you apart of any group chats? with who? : —  volleyball group chat & student government group chat. she usually takes a back seat within group chats to begin with.

do you use the notes app? : —   yes, but she mainly uses it as a to do list or somewhere to keep passwords and other important things she might forget.

[theflowergirl]

❄️ Untamed Winter Fest 2019 ❄️ Day 2: Ornament

[Flower Shop, High-School AU]

“What are you looking for?”

 Wei Ying backs away from the pretty yellow flowers he was smelling, smile betraying all of his mischievous intentions.

 “I really don’t know, Lan Zhan,” he says, invoking his best friend’s favorite saying. “There are so many of them and they’re all as pretty as the girls in Yunmeng. What do you recommend?”

 Lan Zhan looks away a bit too abruptly, and he thinks he sees him speak through his teeth when he asks, “What’s the occasion?” He might be imagining all of it. Only the heavens know that he shouldn’t be trusting Nie Huaisang blindly like a fool, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t so desperately hopeful.

 “Well, it’s the end of the year and the last before we all move away for university...  I want to try and be a bit romantic. I’m not good at these things like you.”

 Lan Zhan casts him a long look but Wei Ying just beams up at him. It’s not a lie. Wei Ying is good at saying whatever comes to mind, but never what really matters. Lan Zhan speaks very little, but he reads so many pretty books from what Wei Ying glimpsed over his shoulder, and helps his brother with the flower shop whenever he can, even if he’s not good at dealing with the general public. His heart is as beautiful as his face, and his eyes, and his demeanor. Cool and placid and unforgettable, like the waters of Yunmeng. Even his glares are a thing of beauty, that Wei Ying wants to immortalize in a sketch.

 (Jiang Cheng has threatened to lock him and Lan Zhan in a basement somewhere to just fucking make out already if he catches him drawing the boy again before telling him how he feels.)

 “Chrysanthemums are a popular choice,” Lan Zhan says with his back to him, pointing to where the flowers are. Wei Ying thinks they’re pretty, but...

 “Too common, Lan Zhan,” he says, crossing his arms. “What about these?”

 “Peonies. If the person you want to gift is... It compliments beauty and intelligence.”

 Lan Zhan keeps his hands clasped before him, his eyes trained on the shop’s entrance, as if he’s trying to will his brother back from whatever errand he’s running. Wei Ying holds back a chuckle, turning to the flowers to inhale their perfume.

 “Well, they really are intelligent. What about—”

 He turns around but Lan Zhan is occupied with two new customers. The girls ask him something and he walks to the back of the shop, and when he’s away, they giggle between themselves. He comes back with a pretty potted plant that Wei Ying would never be able to name and one of the girl takes it, her fingers brushing against his in the process. Wei Ying turns his back to them, inspecting the flowers without seeing them, only relaxing his shoulders when he hears Lan Zhan’s footsteps, walking back to him.

 “Have you chosen?”

 “What about this one?”

 He holds up a white lily. It reminds him of his sister’s beloved lotus flowers, so there’s no way it doesn’t have a beautiful meaning. Looking up at Lan Zhan’s face, his smile falters at the blank look that replaced the irritation. Was he really so bad at demonstrating his affection for him, after all these years, as his young heart grew and learned what it meant to want to see somebody smile every day? Sister had told him that gifts helped cultivate fondness in one’s heart, and he had given him so much, surely...

 “That’s meant for someone special.”

 “I’ll take it.”

 Lan Zhan takes the flower from his hand, but their fingers don’t brush.

 “How many?”

 “Just this one.”

 Lan Zhan nods, setting to envelop the flower in the most lovely wrapping in the shop, delicate designs imitating lace. He finishes it with a thin blue bow and his brother arrives just as he hands it to Wei Ying.

 “Brother Xichen! Do you mind if I steal Lan Zhan?”

 Lan Xichen smiles in Wei Ying’s favorite way, the one that lights up his eyes when he regards his little brother.

 “Not at all. But it’s cold, let A-Zhan take his jacket.”

 Lan Zhan looks between the two of them with a confused frown, before sighing and taking off his apron. He disappears through a back door and emerges with a thick dark blue coat, and he doesn’t have time to ask anything before Wei Ying takes his hand and runs out of the shop.

 The streets outside the flower shop are narrow and plane. It’s only early evening so all the other shops and the restaurants are open when they rush by, Wei Ying waving at acquaintances here and there. He feels like Lan Zhan’s hand is slipping away from his so he holds firmer, guiding him around a corner, under a streetlight, where there are only houses and no one looking at them. The tree next to them is bare now, but by February, the first white flowers start blooming despite the cold, reminding him of Lan Zhan.

 “Okay, hold on.”

 He takes the lily out of the pretty wrapping Lan Zhan had made, keeping the blue ribbon in his hand. He breaks flower’s long stem and when he looks up, Lan Zhan seems a bit scandalized. Wei Ying just chuckles before he tucks the flower behind Lan Zhan’s ear, the white contrasting beautifully against the black of his hair.

 “Ah, it looks better than I imagined.”

 Lan Zhan blinks before his eyes widen and he looks down. Wei Ying watches the blush starting at the tips of his ears before spreading to his cheeks.

 “Wei Ying...!”

 It sounds almost like a whine, but Lan Zhan never whines. It’s a little breathless, a little insecure, and it makes Wei Ying laugh, his heart at his throat, at his palms.

 “Lan Zhan,” he says, taking his hand. “Lan Zhan, look at me.”

 It takes a few tugs at his hand but he does, his lower lip captured under his upper lip.

 “You really didn’t know? I drew you so many things and I bought your favorite iced tea and rice cakes every week. I don’t really have a fancy part-time job like you, you know?”

 It makes him blush harder and it takes all of Wei Ying’s newly discovered self-control to keep him from kissing his red nose.

 “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to assume...”

 “Lan Zhan, I’m telling you I like you, you don’t have to apologize to me!”

 He reaches up to the flower to tuck it better in place, so it doesn’t fall off. Lan Zhan brings his own hand to touch it, his fingers brushing against Wei Ying’s. Why does Lan Zhan touching him feel different than when he tugs him by the hand? So many hours spent nudging him, pulling and pushing, spring afternoons spent eating sweets, but on that winter day, he’s falling for Lan Zhan’s blush, his features ornate with a single lily flower, Gusu white among Yunmeng’s flush.

 “Lan Zhan,” he finds himself speaking, all of his plans for the moment gone when the flower touched Lan Zhan’s ear. “I applied to Gusu University. Father said I can go, even if Jiang Cheng wants to go somewhere else.”

 Lan Zhan’s clear surprise makes him giddy, lightly bouncing on his feet.

 “Will you show me around?”

 He looks like he’s going to nod, but he catches himself, his hand keeping the flower safe in place as he says, “Yes.”

 “Will you buy me Emperor’s Smile?”

 Lan Zhan purses his lips slightly and Wei Ying bites down on his own.

 “...If you do well in your studies.”

 “Lan Zhan! Are you my boyfriend or my mom?”

 He looks down and Wei Ying thinks he must be embarrassed. But instead he asks, very seriously, “Wei Ying. Don’t you want to hear my answer?”

 He had forgotten. And he feels very, very cold on the street as he waits for Lan Zhan to continue. It had been enough for him that he had stayed. It had been enough for him that he had been promised tomorrow.

 Lan Zhan takes the blue ribbon that Wei Ying had forgotten he was still holding. With practiced, unfaltering fingers, he turns it around and around Wei Ying’s wrist, until he finishes it with a simple, flawless bow. Then he touches the flower sitting against his hair and he delicately pulls it away, so it can sit in the curve of Wei Ying’s ear instead.

 The delicate smile on his lips tells Wei Ying the flower should speak all that he needs to know, but he doesn’t know anything about flowers, so he does what he does best: he cups Lan Zhan’s face and kisses his lips, chasing his answer.

 It’s quick and cold and he can’t help huffing a laugh afterwards. Lan Zhan barely moves, eyes barely open.

 “You’re so cute, Lan Zhan,” he says, because it’s true, because it makes Lan Zhan blush harder, and because he’s happy.

 They talk about all the things there are to see at Gusu, and it will take them many years to see it all. They walk hand in hand, the white Gusu flower back with the boy who knows it best, and the blue ribbon of a promise wrapped around the lotus boy’s wrist, neither wanting to go home. The night stretches a little long, bathed in yellow under the streetlights.

 “Lan Zhan, what does the flower mean? Lan Zhan, tell me! Stop laughing and tell me! Is this how you love and appreciate me? Lan Zhan!”

***

Pure white lilies represent long-lasting love and a special bond, making them a popular wedding flower in China. (source)

[littledreamybeth]

My young lover

A/N: This imagine is for entertainment purposes only and has no relation to reality!! This is pure fiction and is not going to be real so be warned!! 

Summary: Y/N is too young and Harry is too old (requested)

How could a person’s beauty be so out of this world yet so real? How could a person be unimaginably gorgeous- as if they were carved by goddess Aphrodite with such perfection and without any flaws? How could someone’s character be filled with so much kindness, gentleness and purity that everybody who spoke a word with them instantly became infatuated with that person? How could someone ignite a hell of a firework inside your body by just touching you or by kissing you? And lastly, how could a person make you fall in love with them so hard that even the single thought of having to live without them makes you instantly go insane?  

Harry always wondered what he did to deserve his girlfriend whenever he spared a glance at her.

Just like now. She was peacefully sleeping beside him, giving him the opportunity to observe the sweet creature lying in his arms. The afterglow of their previous love making was attached on her. The corners of his mouth rose, forming a gentle smile. Harry lifted his hand to carefully drive his fingertips over her soft cheek. Immediate warmth engulfed them.

He had his other arm protectively draped over her small frame as if he was afraid that she would disappear into thin air should he let go. And it was the last thing he needed. Pressing a tender kiss on her forehead, he continued looking at her. His eyes reflected nothing but awe for this young beauty.

Recalling his memories, Harry found himself back at the moment they have met.

On that special morning, he remembered, he had got hold of a role for another movie. Being in the studio for years and producing music was surely something he loved from the bottom of his heart, however, he tried to be open for other things as well. So, he had decided to boost up his acting career a bit more and had auditioned for a character in a new movie. To read the script in peace and memorize his lines, he had walked into a coffee shop he had only heard good things about and that many of his friends had recommended.  

He had entered the shop and watched out for a seat somewhere in the back. There had barely been any customer at that hour for his advantage. While waiting for someone to take his order, he had flipped through the pages of the script. Until he had heard the most endearing voice his ears had been blessed with. His heart had miraculously skipped a beat to the unfamiliar new sound.

“Welcome to the Coffee Club, sir. What’s your order?”

When Harry had lifted his head up to make eye contact, his eyeballs nearly fell out of their places. Right in front of him, there was standing the most beautiful young woman he had ever seen. She seemed to recognize him too because she had looked at him as if she couldn’t believe that Harry Styles was sitting in front of her, in the coffee shop she was working at. But then, she had shot him the cutest smile ever.

“What a lovely surprise, Mr. Styles!” she had said. “It is very lovely to see you at our coffee shop!”

Harry had just nodded with his head. He had been too overwhelmed with how wonderful she looked. From the tag attached on her uniform, he could read that her name was Y/N. Beautiful name.

“Can I take your order already?”

She had taken a piece of paper and pen out of the front pocket of the bordeaux apron she was wearing and had looked at him expectantly.

Harry, hoping that he hadn’t made a fool of himself by openly staring at her, had taken a glance at the menu lying on the small table. “I’d like to have a… an Espresso.”

The young woman had noted his order. “Alright. Anything else?”

“A strawberry cheesecake would be lovely.” Why had he been so nervous while talking to her? He normally had never felt like this when he had spoken to beautiful women.

“An Espresso and a delicious strawberry cheesecake for Mr. Styles,” she had concluded before she had shot another smile at his direction and then had gone back to the front to get his order ready. Harry’s eyes had followed every step of hers until she had been out of sight. The minutes before she returned had been passing agonizingly slow. He couldn’t even concentrate on his script now that his thoughts were full of the young woman and her breathtaking smile. Speaking of love at the first sight, Harry had really believed it just happened to him.

And it had proven him right when Y/N had come back with a cup of his Espresso and a plate with his cake. His heart had beat like crazy. The young waitress had placed his coffee on the table and their fingertips had touched when Y/N had handed the small plate over to him, leaving a prickling sensation at those spots. Harry could feel his cheeks reddening and had hoped she couldn’t see it.

“There we go,” she had said. “I hope you’ll like them. If there is anything you want, please make sure to tell me. My name is Y/N by the way.” Harry was going to answer but she was already gone, leaving him a little disappointed. He had really hoped to be engaged in a conversation with her.

His wish was granted only when his cup was empty and all of his cheesecake was eaten.

“Did you enjoy?”  A sudden voice had attracted his attention. There she had been again.

“Yes, yes of course. All of these were delicious. I think this place is going to be one of my favorites from now on,” he had confessed.

“That’s a nice compliment, Mr. Styles. I’m happy to hear that. And our coffee shop would love to see you more often.”

“Please, it’s just Harry. Mr. Styles makes me feel very old.”

“Okay. May I say that you look quite young for a man who’s just hit his forties? And very handsome also,” Y/N had commented.

Harry knew he must have looked like a tomato by now. Shouldn’t the roles be reversed?

“Thanks darling. It’s good to hear that I’m still attractive despite the white strands of hair I’m having on the sides of my head.”

“No worries, they suit you.”

“You’re quite pretty yourself, Y/N,” Harry had remarked with honestly supporting his statement. Y/N laughed happily at him.

“Yeah, I hear that quite often.”

“Is that so?” the man asked, “Do guys always flirt with you?” Harry fiddled with his fingers. He wondered if she even had a boyfriend. If that was the case, then lord help him.

“Sometimes they do, but they’re not really my type, y’know?” She shrugged with her shoulders.

“What is your type then?”

“Hmm, I dunno. 40 year old attractive superstars maybe?” Okay, she tried to flirt with him, at least that’s what Harry was hoping. And it didn’t look like she was committed to someone either.

“Are you talking about me, love?”  he had grinned cheekily at her, his dimple popping to the surface.

“Maybe I do, who knows?” That girl was about to make him go crazy. “What are you reading, anyway?” She had pointed at the script.

“Oh that’s- that’s a new project of mine.”

“Are you going to star in a movie? What’s its name?” She had made an impression as if she was very excited.

“Sorry, love. It’s confidential. I can’t tell you yet.”

“That’s totally fine. I understand. But whatever it is, I can’t wait to watch it.”

“You would do that?” Curiosity was written all across his face.

“Of course, I would. I’ve seen ICarly and Dunkirk back in the days, and you were fabulous in them, so I’m exited that you give another shot to your acting abilities.”

“Wow, thank you very much. I really appreciate it.”

Their conversation led from one to another and before they knew, they had talked as much as possible and as much as Y/N’s schedule had allowed her. Their chemistry had instantly clicked. After that day, Harry found himself at the Coffee Club almost every day of the week. He had to see her, he had to get to know her- damn, he had to have her. He knew exactly that he was behaving like a sick boy in love, but he couldn’t let it go. Y/N had awakened feelings inside him he never knew he could feel. But on some days, he left the shop as soon as he entered it because his crush wasn’t there.

How funny- while many women were chasing after him, he was falling for a college student who was working as a waitress to pay her loans. She was different than any other woman he had dated, that’s for sure. She wasn’t a model or actress- she was just an ordinary girl, and Harry loved it.

They’d began to meet each other frequently, even outside the coffee shop. Whether it be breakfast at the baker’s shop or dinner at Harry’s favorite restaurant, whether it be having a walk for hours or movie nights at one of their places. Both of them knew they felt something for each other, but they had been afraid to address the elephant in the room. Their age.

Y/N was definitely too young for Harry. She was just 20 years old.

There had been times where Harry had been ashamed to gush over a college girl who was 20 years younger than him. But the more he saw her, the more he longed for her, and it had almost been impossible to resist the urge to stay away from her. She was like a drug he couldn’t take his hands from and whom he was heavily addicted to. Y/N brought him a sense of euphoria each time he had a taste of her. With her, Harry felt as if he was back in his 20s. She made him feel younger than he truly was.

The feelings had been too strong to ignore, and finally they had made Harry explode.

“I know what we have isn’t actually normal to society and I should keep myself away from you, but believe me love, I can’t. Y/N, you’re so special to me that the mere thought of not having you by my side kills me. I’ve tried to deny my feelings for you, I’ve tried to be just a friend to you, but you’ve already had my heart the first time we met. I’m an old man who is in love with you and I would do anything to call you mine. So please, will you give me a chance?”

His hands had cupped her cheeks firmly yet gently between his palms as he looked at her with vulnerability and sincerity mirrored in his eyes. Tiny snow flakes were falling from the sky down to the ground, covering everything around them in white. Just like in romantic movies, they were standing on a bridge with a large river underneath, Harry confessing his love to her and waiting for her answer. With a single reply she could either make him the happiest man on earth or crush his heart into a pile of broken pieces.

“Harry…” she had mumbled under her breath. Seeing the tears in his eyes, she could sense how much everything must’ve affected him. “This isn’t indeed very normal, but you can’t decide who you love, do you? Your heart does it for you, just as mine did for me. I see no one but you wherever I go. When I see something I like, my first instinct is to ask you what you would think about it. Every time when I go to bed and when I wake up in the morning, it’s you I think about. You’ve made me absolutely smitten with you and I would probably do the biggest mistake if I let you go. So, let’s keep it to ourselves so that we can love each other in peace.”

That had been the only confirmation that Harry had needed before he had brought their lips together and had kissed her feverishly. From that very moment, he was a taken man. But to the public, he was still single. It was extremely hard to dodge the question of whether he was in a relationship when the truth was that he had a girlfriend. Harry, sometimes, was like an open book. Especially close friends could tell when he was lying.

Harry still insisted that he hadn’t met anyone when the love bites on his neck showed otherwise. He tried to make everyone believe that those were just ‘mosquito bites’. Not the most believable excuse.

If there was anything Harry felt guilty about is to hide his relationship from his family. He would’ve loved to introduce Y/N to them and telling them that she was the reason why he was so happy like he had never been before. After one failed marriage and a couple of relationships, Harry had fear he wouldn’t find anyone who was going to be his ‘forever’ anymore. He would’ve liked to have a woman to refer to as his wife and he would’ve loved to be a father. That was his dream with Y/N. Yet, he was concerned about how his mother and sister or worse, Y/N’s parents, would react should they decide to confess that the both of them were an item. He could clearly picture the disgust displayed on Y/N’s parent’s faces and the disappointment on his mother’s normally gentle features. He could sense the anger that his girlfriend’s father would radiate and the craving to rip Harry’s off of his shoulders.

Put their families aside; he was more afraid of media and the entire world. Afraid that they would reveal his secret. Afraid of judgement and harassment just because there was a 20 year old gap existing between him and his lovely girlfriend. The media, that had been stuck to his ass since the day he had entered the industry, was already presenting him as a fuckboy who could wrap every single woman around his finger if he wanted to. Who knew how they were going to portray him in case he’d admit that he was in a stable and happy relationship with a woman who wasn’t even born when he had made his first debut? He mentally saw the headlines in front of his eyes. Written in bold letters he could read words that made his insides frigid and colder than the Antarctica could ever be. Pedophile. Sugar Daddy. Tabloids would mock him for weeks, people would create unnecessary drama over his love life. If he really chose to tell the entire globe about Y/N, then he had to expect his name to appear in everybody’s mouth. He had to expect being seen in a completely different light and being treated differently. Besides, he wouldn’t be the only one suffering- also his girlfriend’s life would be drastically affected. Harry didn’t want to put his love through this huge mess. He couldn’t bear to see her suffer. Harry had never feared anything in his 40 years of living more than the fear of his love leaving him- and if she did, then there was absolutely nothing to save him.

“You’re the only man I ever want.” she had whispered assuringly against his mouth during the steamy moment while riding him with an agonizingly yet gentle pace, their lips clinging onto each other to a passionate kiss as though their lives were dependent on their opponent to survive. Harry’s heart had nearly burst out of his chest to her blissful confession. She had meant it then, but would she even keep her word when things got serious? Would she overcome the bullying and humiliation everybody would cause because of him? He couldn’t blame her if she broke her promise. He would welcome the choice of breaking up with him with understanding. Still, he hoped from the bottom of his heart that this wasn’t going to happen.

Back to reality, Harry pushed himself closer to Y/N so that every centimeter of his body that was left untouched by hers could find their relief. He didn’t know why he had the sudden urge to cry, but the uncertainty of what the future held in store for them was unnerving.

As a tear slipped down his cheek along his nose, Y/N awakened from her sleep, opening her eyes at the right time to find her lover being in distress. She didn’t even have to ask because she knew. They had talked about it too many times.

She caught the tears with her thumbs. “Don’t cry. It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.”

Harry took her hand into his, interlocking their fingers and kissing her knuckles gently.

“I’m afraid of losing you…” he whispered, his voice hoarse as if he had smoked uncountable numbers of cigarettes.

“You’re not going to lose me. You and me against the world, remember?”

“I know…But, I want you to meet my mum, you know? I can’t hide like this anymore. I feel terrible. I’ve never had any secrets that I haven’t told my mum. We always talk to each other. It’s like I’m betraying her…But on the other hand, she may be tearing us apart. Who wouldn’t?”

Her warm breath roamed his cheek, and she gave him a small peck there. “Harry, I love you… And I’m sure we’re going to find a way out of this. No matter what the outcome might be, okay? I know you worship your mum and I would love to meet her soon, too. From what you always tell me about her, she must be a very wonderful person. The same goes with Gemma. We need to find a strategy first before we make our move.” She kissed him softly.

“But now, let’s go back to sleep. Don’t fill your head with unnecessary thoughts. Tomorrow, we’ll talk about it again, alright? And see what we need to do?”

“Okay…”

Y/N untangled herself from his grip. “Come here you big boy.” 

She pointed at her chest, indicating that Harry should place his head on top of it. Harry did as he was told. Wrapping his arms around her hips, he gently attached himself back to her. The drumming of her heartbeat against his hair worked like a lullaby. Y/N started to hum a song while her fingers buried themselves into his curls. Embraced like this, they tried to find comfort in sleep, attempting to ignore the risks of their relationship.

[keeroo92]

Commissioned fic request: V & feisty fem reader, friends to lovers w/lots of sexual tension leading to lots of spice. V being awkward; reader finds it charming. Maybe he roasts her for being a shorty. He loves teasing her but she gives him a run for his money because she loves messing with him too, a lot. Little does she know she’s asking for it. Prompts "The skirt is supposed to be this short","Who gave you that black eye?"(reader gets black eye XD), "I just like proving you wrong"(reader to V)

Thank you so much for the commission! You are officially the first person to do so. Since you gave me so much to work with, this will be split into a few posts. I couldn’t resist writing a nice, long story for ya! Enjoy!

(Takes place after the events of DMC5, in an AU where V survived even though Vergil still returned)

Word count - 2,999

True North Part 1

__________________

In a dark room somewhere in Red Grave City, a man tossed and turned as he did every night. The chilled autumn wind caressed his clammy skin and he grunted, his face strained in the moonlight spilling from his open bedroom window. His tattooed fingers clenched and a tear leaked from his closed eye, spilling into his already sweat-dampened obsidian hair. There was no one beside him; the tormented man slept alone.

V bolted upright with a gasp, eyes shooting open as if he’d been struck by lightning. The pounding of his heart refused to slow until he checked every corner of the room, despite how sure he was of his own safety. His nightmares often robbed him of his senses.

As was his ritual, he reached out through the shredded remains of his bond with his familiars, mourning them as if their sacrifice was only yesterday. He still found it difficult to believe; the three demons he’d fought to gain as allies ended up giving the last of their lives to preserve him. Trading what little power they had to anchor his soul.

As a consequence, he no longer had the means to fight demons alongside his friends. He had become ordinary, and while his friends still cared, they were busy saving the world. They didn’t have time to support him or help him heal, for reasons he understood despite the ache in his heart. So, while he survived the showdown, V still felt as if he’d lost everything.

In a way, he had.

V sighed and threw aside the blankets, airing out the portion of the sheets now soaked with his sweat. He shuffled to the small bathroom and splashed water on his face, taking comfort in the sting the cold fluid brought. He stared into the mirror, assessing the worth of the person he saw.

There’s still so much to atone for.

His hands clenched on the porcelain, remembering the many sins of his past. Every day he strived to make amends, but it wasn’t easy. Most of his crimes proved too terrible to counterbalance.

Mass murder. Conspiracy. Matricide. Theft.

Theft. He could fix that, couldn’t he? His emerald eyes shifted to gaze at the dresser where his now useless cane lied, remembering the day he stole it. To be fair, his circumstances at the time were… complicated.

Still, perhaps he could find that shop in the morning, pay for the broken case and for his thievery. It was better than nothing. He sighed again and returned to bed, lying on the side where the sheets remained somewhat dry.

 __________________

Retracing his footsteps from the day of his birth turned out to be more of a challenge than he’d expected. The city had changed so much, many buildings damaged or destroyed entirely during the crisis. In some neighborhoods, the carcasses of the Qlipoth roots stood vigil as a reminder to the citizens. V clicked his tongue as he stepped over one particularly large root, disdain written on his every feature.

What a fool I was.

He walked two more blocks before he saw it – the paned glass door, the carved columns framing it. V swallowed heavily as he remembered breaking the glass and unlocking the doors, dragging Griffon inside by his feet. Desperate to stay hidden from the pathetic Empusa. He was weaker now than he’d ever been.

He shook his head. This wasn’t a trip down memory lane, there was no point revisiting the past. No point dwelling on pain. He pushed the heavy door inward and entered the scene of his crime.

It had changed little. A display of porcelain dolls to his left, a case of jewelry to his right. Ahead, a shelf stuffed with baubles and accouterments waiting for a new home. He would’ve liked to browse, but he was here for a reason. His gaze swept the room, passing over the paraphernalia to find a tiny figure carrying a stack of books, a nametag barely visible past the bindings.

I thought child labor was illegal?

He approached curiously and watched as you shelved the myriad of tomes. Eventually he got a look at your face and he chuckled to himself, realizing you were most definitely not a child. He cleared his throat. You spun to face him with an obviously false smile.

“Hi, can I help you find anything?”

He shuffled his feet and sighed. This may end with him in handcuffs.

“I need to pay for something…” he began. You stared up at him, waiting for him to elaborate. He held out the silver cane and gave you a sheepish smirk.

“I stole this a few months ago during the crisis. I’ve come to purchase it properly.”

Your eyes flicked from his face to the cane, then back again. A more authentic grin spread across your features and you snickered, holding a hand over your lips to hide it. V lowered his arms; by the time the cane clicked against the tile, your guffaws had reached a state of frenzy. He shuffled his feet in embarrassment and waited for you to calm.

“Are you for real? Dude, everything damaged during that bullshit got written off as a loss. You could’ve taken Elvis’ jacket and literally nobody would have noticed,” you said eventually. V clicked his tongue, unable to withhold his annoyance at being teased. Especially since he was trying to do something right!

“Regardless. I also broke in through the door and shattered the case that contained it. I may have damaged several other items during my encounter with a demon.”

You looked him over with a sly gleam of amusement and led him to a counter with a shrug.

“If you really want to pay for it, the owner won’t complain. I can get the cane sorted out, but the damage might take a while. Are you sure you want to do this?”

V grimaced. His job at a local bookstore didn’t pay well, and his work experience didn’t merit a raise. He’d have to take on extra shifts to cover the expense. More hours spent helping idiots find something to read on the plane, mindlessly stocking the shelves and pretending to have any deference for his boss.

I must make amends.

“I’m sure.”

You smiled and gestured at the cane, indicating you needed to see it again. He handed it over and you hummed.

“Well, you have my respect, then. Not many people would fess up to that.”

V didn’t respond. He locked his eyes on the floor, remembering how black it looked as Griffon dissolved right before he’d bonded with the mouthy demonic bird. It surprised him how much he missed the snide commentary and barbed insults.

No one left to insult me except myself.

“I think seventy-five would be a fair price,” you said, handing back the cane. V pulled his wallet from his rear pocket, finally having made use of the chain from so long ago. He handed you a few bills with a smile. The register opened with a sharp click and you counted out his change, even printing a receipt. The tiny scrap of paper in his hand lifted a fraction of the guilt from his shoulders and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’ll need your contact info for the glass,” you said, holding out a pen and notepad. He scrawled his name and cell, adding a note explaining his request. You peered at his writing curiously.

“Anyone ever tell you your handwriting looks like you’re five years old?”

V chuckled. He knew better than to mention how young he was, but it was tempting.

“Ah, I must be improving then,” he replied instead. You snickered and shook your head.

“Good one! I guess I’ll talk to you soon,” you glanced back at the pad, “V…”

  __________________

As much as he loved literature, working in a bookstore left V extremely unsatisfied. Most customers were after whatever new young adult fiction was big this week, or the latest self-help book. Not a soul asked him about poetry or classics, and the lack of stimulating conversation gave him far too much time to think.

He spent a significant portion of time trying to figure out other ways he could repay his misdeeds. Rarely did he stumble onto any new ideas or insights, and the repetitive cycle left him melancholy. Not a good mindset for customer service.

And according to Michael, we just sold out of that drivel the kids like. This will be a long day.

Still, he plastered as much of a smile as he could muster on his lips and pinned his nametag on, striding out onto the sales floor like it was a battleground infested with Hell Caina’s.

If only…

“Hey, you work here, right?”

He turned to face a youthful blonde, knowing from the tone of her voice alone what she wanted. Why she couldn’t have bothered Cassie instead was a mystery, the two would’ve likely been best friends within ten minutes. The idea twitched his lips into a faint smile as he nodded.

“Cool, you have that new one by Cyril McNabb, yeah?”

His jaw clenched in irritation. The girl didn’t even pronounce the author’s name correctly, let alone know the title. He took a deep breath and responded.

“I’m afraid we’re sold out. Can I recommend something else?”

The girl sneered at him, flipping her hair over her shoulder with a scoff.

“What, you don’t have like, one more copy in the back?”

V hid his hands behind his back and clenched them, keeping the pleasant smile on his face even as he seethed in annoyance.

“No.”

She pouted, puffing her lower lip out so theatrically he wondered how it remained attacked to her chin.

“Can’t you, like, go check? Cuz I didn’t come all this way for nothing.”

Her words echoed in his mind, harkening to that day in the Qlipoth. Nero had used the exact same phrase.

The shelves surrounding him vanished, replaced by falling chunks of rock and bloody vines. He was dragging the rash young warrior away from where Dante held Urizen in a stalemate, even as the boy screamed for him to let go. V’s rage had howled through him, lending him the strength to get Nero out even as he wanted to charge into the fray and finish it.

“Uhhh, hello? So, like, can you go check for me?” the young woman’s grating voice said, shattering the memory like glass.

He didn’t think, responding on sheer impulse.

“I suppose I could, but I will not. I happen to know we sold the last copy this morning, and your insistence on special treatment will not cause another copy to magically materialize just for you. I’d recommend an alternative, but truthfully the best use of your time would be a grammar textbook or a collection of poetry, and I doubt someone of your limited intelligence would make it past the first page.”

Gods, that felt good to say.

Even as he enjoyed a surge of self-satisfaction, he knew he’d fucked up. The girl’s jaw hung open in shock as she blinked back tears. Her lower lip trembled as the first few drops slipped through her false lashes. To make matters worse, Michael stomped out from behind the mystery novels with a scowl, having overheard every word.

“V, go wait in my office. Miss, please come with me and I’ll have another associate check for you,” the pudgy manager said.

Damn.

Barely ten minutes later, V turned in his nametag and walked out the door. He brushed his hair out of his face and crossed the tree-lined intersection. Where could he work, with his lack of expertise in anything besides hell and demons? Life was so much easier when he didn’t expect to live longer than a month. Now, there were bills and rent to worry about, not to mention his car payment.

Granted, V had a respectable amount saved. He lived a modest life and made it a point of pride to set aside what he could. It may cost a great deal to atone, and it never hurt to have a safety net.

A buzz in his pocket stopped him in his tracks; his phone. He pulled it from his pocket to find an unfamiliar local number on the screen. His shoulders tensed and he braced himself for more bad news as he tapped the green dot.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this V?”

“Yes, what can I do for you?”

He stepped off the sidewalk to lean on a brick wall, allowing an old couple holding hands to pass.

“It’s Y/N, from the antique shop on first street?”

He smirked, adopting a teasing tone as he replied. “I believe so, are you lost?”

“Ha-ha, hilarious. The owner passed me the receipts today, total comes out to $3,274.55, including all damaged property. She wanted to say thank you and that you can make as many payments as you need.”

“Ah. I suppose I’m lucky Elvis’ jacket wasn’t damaged.”

You snorted in mirth. “Nah, just his wig. When can you drop by?”

V clicked his tongue. He needed to find work quickly, but if he didn’t have a minimum amount he wanted to make the first payment as soon as possible. Begin the process.

“I’m on my way,” he said.

—Reader—

You chuckled as you hung up, still stuck on his crack about Elvis. The man had a talent for one liners, you had to give him that much. Part of you hoped he’d make his payment in person, so you could exchange jokes with him, but in this era the chances were slim. You sighed and turned back to the thick stack of papers, re-reading the top sheet for what felt like the hundredth time.

Ugh, lame. I wish someone else could work on this.

Still, it needed to get done. You forced yourself to focus and muddled through a third of the stack before a soft voice interrupted.

“There’s a guy here to see you, should I show him back?” Peter asked from the doorway. You nodded and he vanished, silent as a mouse only to reappear seconds later with the tattooed man in tow.

A ruler marked where you left off in the accursed pile as you waved V inside with a smile.  He looked strange in khaki pants and an olive shirt, the look so different from the dark jeans and layered tees he wore when you first met. He sat in the only other chair in the room, a mere three feet away from you.

“So! V! Ready to meet the owner?”

He nodded, making a move to stand once again. You cackled internally as you reached out to shake his hand.

“Surprise! It’s me.”

His lips twitched into a smirk and he let out a single syllable of amusement, eyes scanning the cramped room. Cluttered cork boards lined the walls, various notices and a few choice comic strips pinned up. Shelves lined the walls all the way to the ceiling in the few areas left over, packed with detritus and binders you hadn’t opened in years. Your desk was the cleanest surface in the room, littered with the stack of papers you needed to finish reading, a few pens and office supplies.

“So this is your office?”

“Yup! Though I let a few people use it sometimes.”

He nodded knowingly, as if something became clear to him with your words. You stared at him quizzically until he broke the silence to answer your unasked question.

“I was wondering why you had shelves so high when you’re so small,” he explained. “Which begs the question, how do you stock the higher displays?”

You restrained the urge to roll your eyes. It was inevitable, especially considering he was so damn tall. How could he not notice how short you were when he had to look down to make eye contact? You’d heard it all before.

“Witchcraft. And a few piggy back rides,” you deadpanned.

“Also known as a stool, I assume,” he replied with a smirk, not missing a beat.

Damn, he’s good. But so am I.

“Stewart, actually. Though we had to let him go when he started hiding my pens on the top shelf.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment before you couldn’t keep a straight face anymore, breaking down into laughter as V released a few quiet sniggers.  You couldn’t remember the last person you met who appreciated your sense of humor. Wit was a dying skill, in your experience. How nice to find someone who enjoyed it as much as you did.

You fought your lips into a neutral expression, folding your hands professionally on your desk. V’s sparkling emerald eyes nearly sent you over the edge again, but somehow you kept your focus. Business first, jokes later.

Hopefully.

“So, how do you want to do this?” you asked, lips still twitching in rebellion.

He clenched his jaw, irritation radiating off him in waves. The change in mood wiped out the last of your amusement and you wondered if you’d offended him.

“I can do one hundred today, after that I’m not sure. I’ve just been fired,” he said tersely.

Oh my gosh, that’s perfect!

Wait. Slow your roll. Why was he fired?

You leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Why?”

He shifted his weight, matching your suspicion with plenty of his own. “What does it matter to you?”

You uncrossed your arms and smiled.

“Because I’m hiring.”

Part 2

[scentedbygunpowder]

Royai Week, 2019 Day 1—Coincidence Word count: 1,876 Author: Katie/Ally (scentedbygunpowder) Rating: PG Summary: Under stress from being a living hostage for the homunculi and knowing that Pride could very well be watching her every move, Riza Hawkeye spends sometime in the marketplace crowds, hoping to feel less alone, and less afraid.

Coincidence

“Lieutenant?”

Riza looked up from her shopping in surprise and swiveled her head around, looking for the voice. It was only when she saw another woman responding, and smiling at another soldier that was nearby that she realized that her hopes had risen at the familiar word. The man’s tone wasn’t even that close to the one she wanted to hear. She must just be that desperate. She felt her heart fall a bit, before she steeled herself. How silly of her, to think she’d run into the Colonel out here.

No, she knew that neither she nor the Colonel could afford to be together right now. There were too many people watching them—too many eyes on them. She shuddered a little as she thought about Selim Bradley, Pride, watching her from the shadows. Those tendrils and little hands, and the eyes she could just feel. No. No matter how badly she wanted to see Roy Mustang, Riza knew that she shouldn’t hope. They couldn’t risk meeting outside of work. They could barely risk meeting at work.

There was a slight whine, at her side, and Riza looked down to see Hayate, whining a bit, then wagging his tail at her, as if he were trying to cheer her up. She smiled at her dog. He really was a good boy, trying to stay positive for her lately. She was certain he could sense how stressed and afraid she was. Riza readjusted the basket she had, reaching to pay the vendor for the fruits she had bought and then with a “Come on, boy,” turned to face the crowds again.

The market was often lively at this time of day, the crowds made up of both people coming home from work, and people heading out for a little fun. You could see all sorts, from the beleaguered mother trying to reign in her enthusiastic kids, to the couples walking hand in hand, to the people who were dead tired and just wanted to get home. Talking, shouting, playing and oftentimes music and singing could be heard breaking out there and there as people just interacted with each other. It really was a nice feel, and something that Riza had always enjoyed. She enjoyed it more now, because it made her feel at least a little more connected to the world, instead of just feeling like a hostage.

Riza turned to head home, walking along and enjoying the moment of life around her, enjoying just blending in, in civilian clothes for once. Her basket was weighty, full of vegetables and fruits, and ingredients for her to go home and fix herself a supper. But tonight she didn’t want to leave the market. She didn’t want to leave the life around her. She wanted to stay here, and not go back to her cold apartment where it felt like she could feel the shadows spying on her constantly.

A familiar and delicious smell caught her attention, the cooking of a little local street café that was one of her favorites. It was incredibly popular, and the chances of her getting a seat at it, at this time of night, was not very likely. But still, she was going to try. If nothing else, Riza could get herself something to carry home, and instead stop and eat it somewhere here in the market. The prospect was enticing, and she found herself moving just that little bit quicker towards the café.

It was, as expected, crowded and lively. The opposite corner had an impromptu band that seemed to have struck up, and everyone was clearly enjoying themselves. However, she was able to, surprisingly, find a seat at the café, and there was even enough room for Hayate to settle under her feet. The waitress came, took her order and left again, leaving Riza to her thoughts and observations.

For a while, she didn’t think about anything in particular, just letting herself observe the atmosphere around her. She could pretend, even for a moment, that things were normal, that she wasn’t under all the pressure she was, that there wasn’t a grand conspiracy at the highest levels of the government, that her team (friends, family) weren’t scattered around the country, their lives in danger. For a moment, she could pretend that things were as they were supposed to be.

“Excuse me? Ma’am?”

Riza was brought out her reverie by the voice of the waitress, and looked up at the girl. “Yes?” she responded.

“Well, as you can see, we’re pretty busy tonight, and it’s crowded. If you’re alone, would you mind sharing your table with other customers?” The waitress bit her lip a bit, her fingers linking together as she asked.

The poor thing was nervous, and Riza smiled at her, trying to put her at ease. “Of course,” she said. “I don’t mind at all.”

The waitress let out a breath, and her eyes seemed to lighten a bit. “Thank you very much, ma’am. I really appreciate it!” Much lighter then she came, the waitress dashed off, and Riza smiled, returning herself to her observations.

“Lieutenant?”

Her heart stopped, her eyes widened as she heard that voice, and she turned to look. Standing next to her table, a beautiful woman on his arm, was Roy Mustang.

“Colonel!” she said in surprise, making to stand before he motioned her back down. “We’re not in the office, Lieutenant, and off duty. Don’t worry about it.”

“Of course, sir.” She replied, looking curiously between him and the woman.

“Oh dear—oh—is this going to be a problem?” The nervous waitress asked.

For a moment their eyes met, and it was the connection that Riza had been missing.

“No, not at all,” he said, smiling at the waitress. “She’s a work friend,” he explained. “I’m sure that Veronica won’t mind, will you?”

The girl on his arm giggled, and Riza tried to categorize her name. Ah, yes. Veronica. One of his sisters. She felt herself relax a bit. Nothing to worry about then.

“No, not at all! I want to meet more of your friends, Roy!” Veronica said.

The waitress looked relieved, and left to go bring them some drinks, while Roy pulled out a chair for Veronica and then sat down himself.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, sir,” Riza commented. “Especially not on a date.”

“Well, Veronica wanted to go shopping, and then I told her about this place. After all, I do believe it was you who recommended it to me before.” He said.

“Oh did you?” Veronica asked. “How did you find it?”

“It was recommended to me by a friend. She had eaten here before when she was in the city. I believe it was on a date. The date was abysmal, if I remember correctly, but she said that the food was divine.” She watched Roy almost choke on the water he had just been brought. “I can’t speak for her date, but she was right about the food.”

Veronica giggled again. “Your friend sounds like a fun time!”

“If its Catalina, she is,” Roy muttered with a slight scowl.

Riza turned a placid smile on him. “As a matter of fact, it was. You can’t deny that she was right about the food here, though, Colonel.”

“No, that’s true,” he admitted, settling an arm around Veronica. Riza tried not to let her eyes linger on it too long. “So what brings you here, Lieutenant?”

“Hayate and I were out shopping. But to be honest I was tired, and didn’t want to make supper tonight. I could smell the food from here, and decided to stop.” She explained, picking up her own water.

“Hayate?” Veronica asked.

“Yes. My dog,” Riza explained. “Hayate, come.” She said. The dog stood obediently and Veronica immediately began cooing over the dog. Hayate didn’t move until he received Riza’s command that let him go see the other woman, who immediately began showering the pup with attention, much to his delight.

“It seems working for the Fuhrer is hard,” Roy said, raising his eyebrows.

Riza could hear the unspoken question in there. Are you alright?

“It keeps me busy, but I’ve been busier,” she responded. I’m alright.

“Still, I’m surprised to see you out. I know he keeps you late often.” Is everything alright? Are you being followed? Watched?

“He does, but tonight he let me go early, and decided it would be nice to spend some time among other people.” Yes I am. I needed to be around people tonight.

The Colonel’s eyebrow raised slightly. “I see. You should spent some time with some friends then, Lieutenant. Go have some fun.” Remember that if it gets too much, you have allies here.

“I wouldn’t want to bother them, sir. Not when I’m sure they’re just as tired as I am.” I don’t want to drag them into this unless it’s absolutely necessary. It’s too dangerous.

“I trust you know what you’re doing, Lieutenant. Although I still think you should loosen up and have a little fun. Hey, Veronica! Don’t you know someone that would be good for the Lieutenant here?” Please be careful. Remember your contacts. Let’s get one in touch with you.

“Hm?” Veronica looked up from Hayate, blinking as if she hadn’t heard the conversation, then lighting up as the last question registered. “Ohhh, I bet Gerrard would be good for her! Or maybe, if you like them more exotic, Miss Lieutenant, Jean-Luc. He’s an experienced one!”

Veronica chattered on about the different men she could set Riza up with—different contacts, they all knew—and they talked amicably about such things for a bit, only stopping when the food had arrived, and they all dug in. It was, as usual, delicious, and Veronica declared that it was to die for. It wasn’t long after that, that they all stood to leave, Veronica once again on Roy’s arm.

“Well, our date night has just begun,” Mustang said, “And there’s plenty more to do. But I trust I’ll see you around tomorrow, Lieutenant?” We have more information to gather. Will you be okay?

“Then I hope you have a good time,” she said, looping Hayate’s leash around her wrist and picking up her basket. “I’m sure we’ll at least see each other in passing.” Good luck. I’ll be alright.

“Then have a good night, Lieutenant.” Roy said, a slight tip of his hat to her. Be safe.

“Bye, Riza!” Veronica called back as the two began to walk away. “I’ll see about setting you up with someone! I’ll send the details with Roy here!” I’ll set you up a contact too. And give you a reason to talk to Roy.

Riza laughed. “I’ll look forward to it. Thank you.” Thank you for giving me a reason to talk to him.

She watched them walk away for a moment, settling her basket on her arm a little better before she too sat out for home. Her heart felt lighter, and her steps more sure as she walked, Hayate trotting by her side. Perhaps it was just foolishness, but this was just the coincidence that she needed tonight.

[artificialqueens]

In Retrograde : Chapter Two (branjie) - ephemerals

Author’s Note: Thank you for all the support on the first chapter!! I’m glad you are enjoying reading because I have enjoyed writing this. You can find me at @missvanjies.

Synopsis: After spending months uninspired, Vanessa, a local reporter, becomes infatuated with writing a story surrounding the downfall of a police officer discharged after killing an innocent man.

When Brooke Lynn returns to her hometown after her life begins to fall apart, she doesn’t expect to find solace in the charismatic brunette who seems just a little too invested in uncovering all the secrets of her past.

In the days that followed the night at the bar, Vanessa’s mind had become plagued with inspiration. She had pitched her idea to Michelle, the editor. A think piece, the details will come later. All she knew was that the star of the show would be Brooke Lynn Hytes and her fall from grace. Surprising, Michelle enjoyed her ambition. Probably excited to read something with some substance. She just needs to see a draft on the table by the end of the week.

However, it becomes clear to Vanessa that she’s overlooked a lot of details and maybe she was a little too ambitious. Her grand plans are thwarted by crippling writers block, and when it hits the night before the deadline, she’s got absolutely nothing on her page. She needs to do some research, and quick. So, Vanessa reverts to the most effective method of gathering research; Facebook stalking.

Brooke Lynn Hytes. Seventy-four mutual friends. Vanessa enlarges her profile picture. She’s smiling, looking down from the camera towards her cocktail. It’s obviously taken by someone else on vacation, probably somewhere Mediterranean. Her blonde hair is back pulled in a tight bun, skin bronzed and absolutely glowing. If Vanessa didn’t know she was doing research on a criminal, she would have assumed this woman was an Instagram influencer or something along those lines.

Vanessa aimlessly clicks through several public photos, all of them seeming meticulously chosen. There was not a single bad photo among the bunch. In every single photo that loaded, Brooke looked the exact same. Tall, blonde surrounded by other beautiful women, handsome men. And that’s when she notices something. Not a single one of these photos were uploaded by Brooke, nor were they uploaded recently. Vanessa keeps scrolling through the pictures, all dated two, three years in the past.

And there’s this man. He’s in almost every single photo. Just slightly taller than her, dark hair, designer suits. Gorgeous and absolutely terrifying. Intrigued, Vanessa opens his tag. Luke Connelly. Luckily for her, his profile was completely public. Investment banker. Toronto. Got engaged to Brooke Lynn Hytes in August, 2015. Broke up with Brooke Lynn Hytes March, 2018. Well, this is just an assumption. There’s a surplus of brand new photos featuring a much younger, much smaller blonde girl. Her names Ariel and she’s a makeup artist. Vanessa also assumes Luke has known her longer than March.

After spending the better part of an hour scouring through the network of profiles, Vanessa concludes that she isn’t going to reach the deadline. That’s always when she decides that maybe she needs a drink.

…

Brooke’s been bored shitless for days. She’s really trying to stick to the promise she made with Nina. To behave herself, stay out of trouble. It’s been easier that she thought to do so. In the week she had been home, she had left the house only once and the entire time strangers gawked at her like they had seen a ghost. She spent her hours dwindling down her parents collection of mature wines and watching whatever Netflix recommended to her. It was just enough to distract her from thinking about her life, but not enough to entertain her.

As the supplies began to run dry, Brooke had begun to look for some new ways to keep her occupied without leaving the house. Late one afternoon, she found herself curiously rummaging through her father’s collection of vinyl records. Most of them she remembered fondly, her father playing them softly through the house whenever he was home. Brooke chose one at random, examining the cover for a moment before turning to the track list. Born In The USA. Gently, she removes the cover and places it on the turntable. As the needle hits the vinyl, the first notes of a familiar song begin playing.

Brooke takes a seat on her father’s armchair, resting her chin in her hand. This was the album she used to dance around the house to as a kid with her dad. He’d swing her around in circles until her mother would stop them in frustration. Her father was the first one to suggest that Brooke should take dance lessons, and with extreme perseverance, her mother finally agreed. Sometimes, Brooke wished that she followed that path instead. There was always this voice in her head that told her to be realistic, get a real job, get married, have a normal life. It was so much easier to surrender. So she moved to Toronto, trained with the police and got engaged to the first man who showed interest in her. And now this fantasy world she had built for herself was crumbling.

That was the worst part of it all. This wasn’t even what Brooke wanted. All of this was a masquerade. Brooke had lured all these people into this lie. That’s what she felt the most guilty about. Nina, Luke, her parents. People who are going to be hurt in the fallout. Tears begin welling up in her eyes. Her chest is heavy and it isn’t long before Brooke is choking back sobs. She falls back into the armchair, weeping to the soft hum of her father’s music.

…

Brooke awakens, weary-eyed and hazy, instantly drawn to the sounds of movement in the room. She rubs the sleep from her eyes, slowly opening them towards her father tidying up in the corner of the room. The album had come to a halt, needle caught spinning in the deadwax.

“Springsteen huh?” He holds up the cover to Brooke, grinning. Brooke sits herself up, limbs still tired.

“I just picked whatever.”

“You know,” her father slides the album between hundreds of others on the shelf, “We used to dance to this when you were little. Your mother hated it.”

“Yeah,” Brooke’s reply is soft, “I remember.”

Outside, the world has become dark. The sun had set and the stars were high above. Her father goes back to what he was previously doing, solemn with nostalgia. Of all the people she has hurt over the years, her father had taken it the hardest. In his eyes, Brooke would always be his little girl. And yet he knows everything Brooke has done.

“Your mother-,” there’s a beat, he turns towards his daughter, “and I, we think it’s best if you see someone again. I know you won’t like the idea-“

“I’m fine, Dad,” she hoists herself up, begins to walk towards him, “I don’t need a stranger to pry inside my mind.”

There was always this uncertainty around how Brooke would react. Every since she was young, Brooke had always lashed out in unexpected ways. It was her way of controlling things, taking everything out on herself. Entirely impossible to predict. By now, her father knew to approach things with caution or else prepare for the worst. If Brooke was heading on the path of self-destruction, nothing could stop her.

“Brooke,” he rests the palms of his hands on her shoulders, “You keep drinking the day away. I hear you awake at all hours of the night. I don’t think you have eaten a single meal since you’ve been home. What if you relapse? What if it’s worse? We’re just worried.”

“I’m not going to waste my time pouring my heart out to someone, just to tell me how much of a bad person I am. I already know that I’m a terrible person.”

“Just,” he presses a kiss on her forehead in between his words, “Think about it for me. Promise me?”

“Okay, I will.”

Looming over her, Brooke has all these promises she’s destined to break. Going to therapy, bringing her problems to light, sounded like the worst scenario. For now, Brooke carries this weight with her. There’s a million things demanding her attention that she will continue to keep repressed for as long as she possibly can. She needs something to stop the noise, even if it’s just for a minute. She just needs something.

…

When Brooke first enters the doors of the bar, it was as if she never left. In the two years since she had been home, the place had not changed in the slightest way. The jukebox booms over all the other noise in the room. Eerily empty, the sparse customers all focused on the hockey game playing silently on the TV. Brooke saunters up to the bar, leaning over towards the bartender.

“A whiskey on the rocks please,” She asks politely, the bartender raising his eyebrow at the request. Brooke slides the money towards him.

“That’s not the kind of drink a pretty girl like you should be orderin’,” An older man calls from across the bar. The gathering of people around him snicker at the comment. Brooke rolls her eyes and knocks back her drink in a single gulp. She doesn’t flinch as it burns her throat.

“I’ll take another one please,” She smirks, the men on the other side of the room stop instantly. She could out-drink each and every one of them. Brooke perches herself on a stool, downing her second drink at a much slower pace. That’s something she didn’t miss about being single, the attention she would receive from men. Having a ring on her finger was enough protection. Men respected other men. They respected the concept of her husband more than they cared about the woman before her. Now she was exposed and vulnerable. A pretty unclaimed woman. The thought of it all made Brooke feel ill.

Hey, little girl, is your daddy home? 
Did he go away and leave you all alone? 
I got a bad desire.

Oh, oh, oh 
I’m on fire.

The melody of a familiar song begins playing in the background among the blur of chatter and clamouring of glass. Brooke empties her glass and orders a replacement. She looks back behind her briefly, caught off guard by a piercing glare in her direction. A woman sitting alone in a booth with caramel hair and dark eyes. Hauntingly beautiful. The eye contact causes Brooke to recoil, turning her head back to face the bar immediately. Brooke’s almost certain she’s still staring, burning her way through her skull. A part of her wants to turn back, take a good once over of this woman.

Tell me now, baby, is he good to you? 
And can he do to you the things that I do? 
Oh no, I can take you higher.

Oh, oh, oh 
I’m on fire.

A cacophony of drunken men erupt in song. It’s rowdy and loud, arms being thrown around shoulders in camaraderie. An average night in a small town bar. It distracts Brooke for long enough to forget about the mysterious woman behind her. Enamoured by the chaos. They sing and slosh their drinks around, whiskey and rum flooding the floor.

Sometimes it’s like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull
, And cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my skull
. At night, I wake up with the sheets soakin’ wet
, And a freight train runnin’ through the middle of my head.

Tapping her foot against the stool, Brooke can’t help to hum along. She envisions her father joyfully spinning her around their living room, lifting her up high towards the ceiling. They slide around on the floorboards in their socks, jump around on the sofa while her mother is away. Her eyes are closed but Brooke is beaming, immersed in the song.


Only you can cool my desire.

Oh, oh, oh
 I’m on fire.

And as the song draws to a close, Brooke is brought slowly back to reality. She’s alone and slightly tipsy in public. The outro rings through her ears. The spontaneous karaoke is replaced by conversation. The room is back how it once was. Brooke curiously glances behind her.

The booth was completely empty. The woman was no longer there.

…

After a while, she slips out the front for a cigarette. The night air caresses her exposed skin. She’s dressed quite casually, ripped jeans and a baggy shirt that slouched down her shoulder. Brooke didn’t have the commitment to dress like she used to. It cost money and her precious time to look that way. She covers her cigarette to light it, inhaling sharply, exhaling the smoke into the night.

It was a bad habit, but not her worst by any means. While the thought didn’t necessarily thrill her parents or Nina, they gathered it was much better she smoked then binged on drugs or hurt herself again. Brooke liked the routine of it all. It was a meditative experience, taking time out of her day just for herself. Nina had argued that it was making time to slowly kill yourself, but the argument was lost on Brooke. She was always going to do what she wanted, regardless of what anyone had to say. On a good day, they were enough to keep her calm. On a bad day, well, they just came in handy.

Today, Brooke wasn’t entirely sure where she was at. The hours passed painfully slow. Maybe it was just the alcohol clouding her brain, but everything had felt almost like a dream. Dampening her brain with masses of alcohol had just saturated that feeling. Brooke couldn’t stop thinking about that woman. She was utterly surreal. It could have all been part of her imagination, a hallucination. But the fierce stare had penetrated straight into Brooke’s soul. The interaction had been so abrupt, had it been literally anyone else, it would have already slipped her mind.

But it lingers, and it burns.

If Brooke was smart, she would go home and sleep it off. Wake up in the morning, perhaps a little hungover, but at least with a clear mind. Her mind is foggy, just enough for her to keep pushing. She takes the final drags of her cigarette, stubbs the remainder into the wall and she steps towards the building’s door. Except as the door swings open, Brooke’s stopped in the tracks by a sudden force. She loses her balance temporarily as the other person curses in a raspy voice.

“Hey! Watch where you’re goin’.”

“I’m so sor-“ Brooke starts, as she looks up. Caramel hair. Dark eyes. Oh fuck.

Startled, both women step back. The other woman’s mouth agape, eyes wide. Deer in the headlights. Once she regains composure, Brooke restarts her apology.

“I’m so sorry, I should watch where I’m going.”

“Uh,” the woman stammers, “Don’t worry about it. I was just leavin’.”

Hurried, she pushes past her trying to escape. Brooke reaches out, in a rare moment of intoxicated bravery, and grabs her wrist gently. Her fingertips ignite at the feathery touch.

“Wait!” Brooke’s words come out shaky in confusion, hoping, praying that somehow she can get this woman to stay. Brooke was definitely intrigued, “Let me buy you a drink to apologise.”

“I-“ The woman pulls away, stuttering through her words, “I have to go.”

Swiftly, the woman disappears into the night. Left silent and astounded, Brooke is still. Illuminated in the neon light, wind hissing in her ear.

Brooke is on fire.