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shushiyuii · 2 years

Text

Atlantic Runaways (Part 7)

A/N: Yaay! Part 7 is out after so long! Took forever but it's here in time! I finished my finals and am ready to write again!

Warnings: Soft vore, Unintentional fear play, Swearing, Fear of death (Kinda?), Violence, Minor injury, Mild angst, Mentions of trauma and neglect and a very exhausted teenager, Also lore

Words: 4.5K+

{…}

“This is absolute bullshit!”, he yelled as he faceplanted into the desk below. Groaning tirelessly, he turned to the nearby cup of coffee that lay on the desk. It was believed to be his fifth cup at this point throughout the night, though he had probably had more.

He gulped down the entire cup, only causing his head to pound as his headache worsened. Everything had become a mess overnight with the amount of research he had been attempting to do.

Pages had been torn and tossed to the floor as Tommy deemed them irrelevant. At this point in time, Tommy had read the entire book at least two or maybe even three times, he couldn’t remember.

‘The relic to turn the tides’, otherwise known as the piece of shit necklace. Tommy spent so long looking into every inch of detail in the words of the book. Only to find nothing.

Notably, though, the artefact was known for its use for “befriending” humans and then luring them into the sea to only betray them and eat them. Pretty terrifying to ask if you were to ask for his opinion, but cool to know anyways.

Besides that, the book also noted that the artefact was ancient in mer history. Which would mean a lot considering the book itself was yellowing at the edges, the pages worn and torn in some places. He could only sigh in annoyance.

The notebook with his “notes” only really had possible theories on possible locations of the artefact and then again, those were based on what Tommy knew (which was practically nothing). To say the least, Tommy felt hopeless.

He had only just found a possible lead, and yet there was absolutely nothing. Even the pointless queries on google didn’t even help. What would Wilbur say? Wouldn’t he be devastated at the possibility of no escape? Tommy couldn’t let that happen, no matter the cost.

Tommy jumped in his seat as the alarm on his phone buzzed to life. He quickly went to investigate as to why; Bringing the blinding light towards his face. Only to find out that it was 6:31 in the morning, which meant he had work.

Tommy forgot it was a work night, didn’t he? Well, wasn’t Tommy a genius staying up all night on a work night of all things! Just had to add salt into the mixture, didn’t they? How was Tommy even supposed to deal with everything currently?

Tommy desperately needed that artefact; he couldn’t let Wilbur down. But what could he do in the meantime? Scuba diving in the afternoon every day until he found one, and use a metal detector on the beach?

No, those wouldn’t work (the second one at least). The best thing he could possibly do was check out every thrift store and antique store he stumbled upon in the meantime. That was the plan anyway.

He stood up from his chair, feeling his bones pop back into place after so long of sitting down and the tension of his shoulders easing. It almost felt like a relief, he definitely wasn’t staying up all night like that again for a while.

Leaving his bedroom towards the bathroom, turned on the lights and looked at himself in the mirror for what felt like forever. To say the least, he wasn’t entirely pleased to see the bags under his eyes and messy hair.

Wilbur would definitely be worried once he saw Tommy. He sighed, shaking his head as he turned on the cold water of the tap, using it to freshen himself up. It was going to be a very long day.

{…}

“Order for Tommy!”, the barista called. Tommy sighed as he approached the counter, finally able to get another intake of caffeine with a less likely chance of falling asleep on the railway. Though he couldn’t help but sympathise with the barista, the poor guy sounded as tired as Tommy.

He thanked the guy for his drink, leaving some change in the tip jar as he walked towards the exit. He just simply had to head to work as normal, nothing bad could possibly go wrong, after all-

“Oh! Apologises fellow human! - I mean person! Sorry!”, the individual put his hands in surrender after stabling Tommy’s balance. Tommy groaned as he rubbed his head from almost colliding with the person, he really couldn’t handle anything at this time of morning.

“It’s okay, just try to be careful next time.”, Tommy reassured the now very suspicious-looking individual. Said individual was wearing a Hawaiian shirt at 8 am with a mask and sunglasses. Honestly though, who wore those kinds of clothes at this time in the morning?

Wait, did he say human or something? He couldn’t remember. Too tired.

“Ranboo! Stop taking advantage of your long legs! You know I can’t run as fast!”, that was a strangely familiar voice… Was that Tubbo?

Said best friend then appeared from around the corner of the building, looking as piper as always. Dressing much more casually compared to his fellow companion, Ranboo was it? Tubbo shared an annoyed glance at Ranboo.

Which then turned into a smile as he turned to look at Tommy.

“Tommy! Hey!”, he greeted Tommy with a hug. Typically, Tubbo wasn’t quite the morning person, quite the opposite. So, count Tommy’s surprise when he saw his best friend awake and happy at 8 am.

“Hey Tubbso”, his voice wasn’t as enthusiastic as it normally would be. And so, he ruffled the shorter one’s hair. Though, it didn’t take long for his best friend to immediately notice what was up.

“You look like shit, what’s up?”, Tubbo asked as he titled his head in concern. Tommy was quick to put up his one hand in surrender. Tubbo’s expression narrowed as he leaned in a bit closer to Tommy’s personal space.

“It’s nothing! Just stayed up all night- for some reason I can’t really say in front of people”, Tommy winked in hopes of Tubbo getting the hint. It took a second as Tubbo became confused before he realised what Tommy was hinting at, nodding in understanding.

The stranger beside them then brought up a finger to question what was going on between the two, only to gain a very tired and annoying glare from Tommy. Only for Tubbo to intervene as he spoke.

“Tommy, this is Ranboo. Ranboo meet Tommy, my best friend! Tommy, please don’t kill Ranboo.”, Tubbo warned Tommy as he was aware of what the boy could do… Ranboo looked as though he was about to question the warning…

Only for Tommy to realise that he was going to be late.

“Shit, I’m gonna be running late for work! I’ll see you guys later!”, Tommy quickly ended the conversation before running full speed ahead towards the train station.

{…}

Gripping the train pole, he couldn’t help but feel frustrated at public transportation. All other seats had been occupied by other passengers, leaving a very tired Tommy to try and keep up his balance as the train zoomed down the railway.

Maybe he should’ve just asked his father for a ride? But then again, his father had already done so much for him lately, that he didn’t want to annoy him even further (even if his father wouldn’t even mind).

His anxiousness grew with the passing second as he grew closer to the waterpark. He was definitely looking forward to seeing Wilbur again, but then the other day how he treated Wilbur was getting on his nerves.

He was far too selfish that day, pushing Wilbur away like that. Though, he couldn’t help but also feel suspicious of himself; it felt as though two sides of himself were conflicting for whatever reason. It felt odd and confusing.

Which Tommy could only conclude was probably his mer side or something? Ever since he had met Wilbur, a lot of things had changed for Tommy during that time. His emotions to be more specific.

Maybe being around another mer was making him behave much more like a mer?

“Next stop, L’manburg Waterpark”, it appeared it wouldn’t be too long until he arrived to work and had to face the inevitable.

It really didn’t help that Wilbur didn’t really believe Tommy either, simply putting aside his concerns to not agitate himself further. He took another sip of his coffee, only to find that the cup was nearly empty.

Groaning in annoyance, it was going to take up a lot of energy to keep up his usual attitude. As long as Wilbur didn’t get even more worried about him.

The bus came to a sudden halt, causing Tommy to scream as he fell to the ground. Before quickly standing up and getting off the bus, thanking the driver in the process. Maybe he should apologise to Wilbur?

{…}

Closing the enclosure door with a sigh, it was finally time to see Wilbur again. Although anxious, he couldn’t help but feel his excitement build-up at seeing his brother- best friend. Best friend.

As he turned around, only the still water greeted him. Strange, he’s pretty sure he told Wilbur that he was working today, didn’t he? Or was the mer simply still sleeping? That was the more likely solution, Wilbur did prefer to stay underneath the water.

He stepped towards the pool, kneeling as he tried to look down into the depths of the water, hoping to see any sort of shadow from the mer below.

Only for the water to come flying over him. One second, he was dry, the next he was completely drenched in water. He coughed out some water that had gotten caught in his throat, opening his eyes to catch the sight of a brown tail dipping into the water.

Of course, Wilbur had been the one to drench him in water first thing in the morning.

“Wilbur! What the fuck man!”, he cursed out loud. Tommy then dipped his feet into the freezing cold water, how did Wilbur even sleep in there? Speaking of the devil, the mer then emerged from the surface, making his grand entrance.

“Good morning, Toms! Did I scare you?”, the mer smirked as he leaned in closer towards Tommy, casually leaning his elbow to the side. His sharp fangs were on full display with a mischievous grin, what did Wilbur have planned this time?

“Not really, it’s not the first time you’ve done it”, Tommy scoffed playfully. Things were surprisingly okay thus far; it seems Tommy’s act was actually working quite a bit. Wilbur only hissed playfully in response.

“Yeah, okay then. Now hand over the food, gremlin. I’m hungry.”. Tommy rolled his eyes, before standing up and going towards the locker that usually contained a bunch of fish for Wilbur. Finding quite a bit of fish, he picked up what he could in a bucket and brought it to Wilbur.

Wilbur opened up his mouth like routine, his tongue drawing close to Tommy. He couldn’t help but feel a small amount of anxiousness run down his back as he thought he could’ve been eaten for a second.

Tommy sat down on the tiled floor, grabbing a few fish from the bucket and placing it in Wilbur’s mouth. Wilbur’s mouth suddenly snapped shut, causing Tommy to yelp and flinch back by accident. He wasn’t expecting himself to flinch like that.

Wilbur’s expression was quick to turn to one of concern, bringing a claw to shelter Tommy from the outside world as he leaned in closer (It reminded him of when Wilbur had comforted him after the other incident).

He looked as though he was about to speak before his eyes narrowed as he looked over Tommy suspiciously. Tommy’s nerves could be felt crawling up his back as he tried to avoid Wilbur’s concerned look.

“Toms, why do your eyes look so different? Is everything okay? Are you sick?”, Wilbur panicked. Tommy sighed as he put his hands up in surrender, leaning into Wilbur’s touch whilst doing so.

“Sorry Wil, I just stayed up all night. Nothing to worry about!”, Tommy was quick to reassure Wilbur, but he didn’t look too convinced.

“Are you sure there’s nothing’s wrong?”, the guilt from the other day returned. Tommy was quick to try and respond but ultimately came out with nothing. A moment of awkward silence was shared between the two.

“I’m sorry Wil, It’s fine. I’ve just been really worried about the escape plan, if anything were to go wrong or something- I couldn’t- “, Tommy was quick to hold back his own tears. Wilbur was quick to scoop up the boy in his claws.

His clawed thumb was brought towards his cheek, rubbing it soothingly. Tommy made eye contact with Wilbur, meeting his own guilty glance.

“Oh- Little pup… Listen, as much as I’d love to leave this place. I don’t want you to overwork yourself so much, you’re already doing so much for me, and I couldn’t thank you enough. So please, don’t stress yourself out over it, okay?”.

Tommy only responded with a nod, though he made sure Wilbur was able to see the smile on his face. Wilbur was quick to return it with his own shoulder, ruffling Tommy’s hair in the process. Tommy relaxed into the touch, letting out a yawn in the process.

“Sleepy, little pup?”, Wilbur whispered with a hint of tease as he noticed the boy’s eyes droop ever so slightly. The boy responded with a yawn, too tired to give a cohesive response. Wilbur was quick to gently bring the boy closer to his mouth.

Carefully bringing out his tongue to not alert Tommy again (he didn’t want the boy to flinch again), nudging the boy onto it. Tommy finally seemed to realise what the going on as he sat up onto Wilbur’s claw.

“Wil? What are you-“, he cut himself off when he noticed what Wilbur had been attempting to do. Rolling his tired eyes, he reluctantly allowed Wilbur to continue as he leaned back onto the tongue. A grin grew on Wilbur’s face.

Tommy was gently placed onto Wilbur’s tongue as he was brought into his mouth, a couple of licks to prep Tommy for the way down. It wasn’t long until Wilbur had swallowed and stored Tommy in his brooding pouch.

Wilbur brought a hand over his stomach as he felt Tommy leaning into the pouch’s walls, chirping happily. He then dove back into the water.

Before Tommy completely slipped into sleep mode, a buzz from his phone snapped him awake. Quickly bringing out his phone, he read the text message from Tubbo.

‘Hey, big man! Want to hang out with Ranboo and me tomorow?’.

‘Yeah, but why do we have to bring Ranboob?’, Tommy responded. He didn’t quite want a stranger, much less a very suspicious one to come along with them.

‘If Ranboo doesn’t come, then I won’t go’.

‘Fine’, Tommy responded with reluctance as he leaned in closer to the wall. Wilbur was quick to respond with some rubs, Tommy then soon fell asleep.

{…}

“Thanks for the ride, Dad!”, Tommy stretched as he promptly exited the car. His father soon exited the car to join him, looking cheerful whilst also having a somewhat worried glance on his face.

“No problem, mate. You okay after yesterday though?”, his father ruffled his hair. He had told his father everything after he came to pick him up late yesterday. Tommy nodded with a smile to assure his father.

After spending the night with Wilbur, a fair amount of weight had been lifted from his shoulders after Wilbur’s reassurances. And now, he felt as though the plan could be taken a bit lighter, as he had been a bit extreme, to begin with.

Just for now, it was time to have fun as Tommy spotted his friend and suspicious associate known as Ranboob. He wasn’t sure whether he could trust the guy, perhaps today would be the day he could prove himself.

“You’ll be sleeping at Tubbo’s tonight, right?”, that was the arrangement. Hang around town for a while and then head home to Tubbo’s for the night.

“Yep! I’ll see you around, alright Dadza?”, his father couldn’t help but laugh at the nickname, giving a reassuring smile before turning back to the car. He waved as his father drove out of the parking lot.

Then Tommy turned around towards his companions and walked towards them.

“Hey, Tubbo! Hi, Ranboob? Was it?”, Tommy greeted with much more energy than the last time they had encountered. Tubbo simply shook his head in disapproval, annoyed at Tommy’s attempts of harassing Ranboo.

“Hey, Tommy! And it’s Ranboo by the way, not Ranboob”, Tommy only grinned playfully in response. Tubbo could only sigh, it was going to be a long day. A very long day if he was going to have to deal with Tommy acting like this

{…}

“What’s that?”, Ranboo gestured towards a display of socks within a clothes shop. He appeared to be pointing towards a specific pair of fluffy socks, one a bright neon orange, the other a bright green. An odd combination to say the least.

Ranboo looked as if he was in love with the pair of socks. All the while Tubbo looked as though he was pale as a ghost. Tommy could look at Ranboo in pure confusion, confused at the fact that he seemed to be in such awe that he questioned the existence of a pair of socks.

Ranboo looked back towards them in excitement, before turning to realisation as he looked towards Tubbo. Who had a look of ‘we need to talk’ as Tubbo quickly grabbed Ranboo’s hand and dragged him around the corner.

“Be right back, Tommy!”. That was odd.

It wasn’t long before the two of them returned and dragged Tommy into the clothing shop, buying him the pair of socks he wanted. He was quick to change into his pair of socks. Tommy had to admit that Ranboo had a really weird clothing style.

But at the same time, it’s also funny.

The three soon exited the shop and walked along the street, it wasn’t long before Tubbo found a shop he was interested in. Leaving Ranboo and Tommy alone together, in quite a bit of awkwardness.

It was then Tommy spotted an antique shop and dragged Ranboo along with him inside, because if he didn’t, Tubbo would definitely kill him. Ranboo looked confused to be in the antique shop, looking at all sorts of cups, plates and other things.

“Hey Tommy, what are we doing here?”, Ranboo asked as he picked up a fancy looking vase. But Tommy wasn’t paying attention, only searching the displays for the artefact. But as he looked further, nothing was resembling what he saw in the book.

Tommy frowned and let out a sigh of annoyance, Ranboo joined at his side in concern, gently placing a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy was quick to jump and look at Ranboo with a glare as he went to shout, but he was cut off by Ranboo.

“You okay? Were you looking for something? You look disappointed-“, Ranboo expressed his concerns. Well, that was nice of Ranboo. The entire time that they had been here, he had only been treating Ranboo like shit, but Ranboo was still being nice.

Maybe Ranboo wasn’t as bad as Tommy thought he was. Wait, how was he supposed to respond? Tell Ranboo he needed an ancient mer artefact? He hadn’t even told Tubbo he needed the necklace in the first place!

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for the concern, Ranboo but I just lost something. It got stolen a little while ago, thought I might’ve found it here, so it was worth a try…”, Although a lie, it still held genuine emotion as he was disappointed, there wasn’t an artefact.

But what was he expecting? It was certainly rare after all.

“Oh, I’m sorry it’s not here. And hey! You called me Ranboo! That’s a first”, Tommy was quick to retaliate, spitting out playful insults as they left the store. Only to encounter Tubbo waiting outside for them, with a smile on his face.

“Are you guys finally getting along?”.

{…}

The day went by fairly quickly after that. Ranboo was still quite an oddball, but Tommy was getting used to it at this point. The three of them had some food, caused a bit of chaos like usual and were ready to head home at this point.

It was time to head home as the light skies had turned dark. The streets were unnaturally quiet as everyone had left for the day and all the stores were closed. The three boys waited for the bus to arrive but would be some time before it came.

Tommy and Tubbo kept up a casual conversation to fill up the silence, although Ranboo seemed to be on edge about something. Looking around frantically in what seemed to be a panic.

“Hey Ranboo, everything alright?”, Tommy playfully nudged Ranboo’s shoulder. Ranboo was quick to react as he was quick to grab Tommy’s arm in a tight grip, before quickly letting go with an apology.

“Sorry, just something feels off…”. And it appeared that Ranboo’s suspicions were right…

Because as soon as Ranboo and Tommy were to turn a blind eye to Tubbo, some guy had come up from behind them and grabbed Tubbo. Tubbo was quick to scream as he was taken off his feet and held in a tight grip…

Tubbo screamed as he squirmed in the man’s grip, the man attempted to stop Tubbo’s yells by harshly covering his mouth. But Tubbo’s movements caused the man to fail in his attempts, and ultimately resulted in him getting punched in the face…

“Tubbo!”, Tommy called out for him. But Tubbo didn’t respond as he laid limply in the man’s grip, he had been knocked out. In anger, Tommy was quick to run toward the man in Tubbo’s defence, raising his fist as he aimed for his face…

But it appeared the man wasn’t alone as another person appeared from behind Tommy, socking Tommy in the cheek. Tommy collided with the floor, only to be met by a kick to the stomach as the pain quickly rose to his chest…

Tommy wasn’t going to easily give up though, getting up for Tubbo’s defence. But the guy that had taken him down quickly grabbed him as he was too slow to dodge, rendering him practically useless…

Tommy squirmed in the tight hold, but it was no use as he was no match for the guy…

“Ranboo! Behind you!”, Tommy was quick to warn him of the impending danger. Another guy tried to grab Ranboo but luckily, Ranboo was able to dodge as he stumbled onto the floor. Ranboo panickily looked around before his eyes settled on Tubbo.

Ranboo’s panicked face becomes unclear as he stares down Tubbo… Before his expression turned to one of rage… Another guy was about to attack him, but a loud growl caught the guy off guard, causing him to hesitate.

That was enough of an opportunity for Ranboo’s hand that had now turned into a sharp claw and swing at the guy in a fury, the guy screamed as he dodged Ranboo’s attack.

“Quickly! Take him down!”, the guy that held Tubbo yelled out. Ranboo only hissed in response, falling to the ground as his legs morphed into a gigantic tail. Tommy fell to the floor as the guy let Tommy go out of fear.

But Tommy couldn’t help but stare at Ranboo as he was no longer human, he was a mer. Although on land, he swiftly manoeuvred his tail to shelter Tubbo’s unconscious body. Hissing furiously at anyone who approached them.

He wasn’t as big as Wilbur, much smaller than him, about three to four times bigger than Tommy. Still fairly large though. And the men finally seemed caught up as they all panicked, realising it was a dangerous mer in front of them.

They all screamed and ran away like pussies.

After all the men disappeared, Ranboo was quick to scoop up Tubbo; Scanning over him like a frantic mother, chirping worriedly as he looked around for injury. After only finding a bruise on his forehead and seeing him breathing, Ranboo finally calmed down.

Tommy was quick to snap out of his trance, quickly running towards the two to check up on Tubbo himself.

“Holy shit! Tubbo! Ranboo! Are you both okay?”, he soon joined their side. The silts of Ranboo’s eyes narrowed in alert for a moment before realising it was just Tommy, his friend. Ranboo was quick to check over Tommy himself.

“I’m fine, Tubbo is too. Are you okay though? You don’t look too good”, Tommy was quick to give a reassuring smile. Before his eyes turned to shock in realisation at the fact that Ranboo was a mer right in front of him.

And he wore a necklace, it was the artefact. He’d have to talk to Ranboo about the artefact later. Though it seemed Ranboo had just realised that he had just revealed to Tommy that he was a mer.

“Also, I can explain everything-“, Ranboo despite being a giant mer, was acting as though he was in his human form. He was as anxious as always.

“It’s fine Ranboo, we’ll talk later. But, right now, we just gotta head back.”, Ranboo nodded in response as he looked over himself and Tubbo, who was just waking up himself. Groaning as he sat up on Ranboo’s hand.

“Hey guys, is everything okay?-“, he cut himself off as Tubbo looked around. Seeing Ranboo in his mer form and an injured Tommy. He was quick to piece the pieces of the puzzle together, sighing in relief.

“Okay, Ranboo go back to human form, and we’ll head home.”.

{…}

The three of them had settled down after everything that had happened during the long day, with Tubbo being the first to fall asleep, sprawled out all over his bed with a blanket barely covering him. Though, Tommy and Ranboo continued to talk.

“So that’s how you two met? Through a surfing competition?”, Tommy let out a laugh at the context. Quite the story of how the two of them had met.

“Yep! Anyways you want to talk about something? You look like you want to get something off your chest there.”, Tommy's eyes widened as he had been caught red-handed.

“Well… There is something…”, Tommy let out a sigh as he explained practically everything to Ranboo. Once he had finished, Ranboo was quick to sympathise with him.

“Well, you did try to protect me and Tubbo and you barely knew me. Not only that but your friend does need help, and I’d be happy to lend you my necklace, as long as you bring it back.”, Ranboo clutched the artefact to his chest.

“I promise! I’ll bring it back as soon as I can! Tubbo will make sure of it! Thank you! Thank you so much, Ranboo!”, Tommy was quick to hug Ranboo with tears in his eyes. Ranboo hugged him back.

#mcyt g/t #mcytg/t #dsmp g/t #shushi's writings #atlantic runaways au #tw vore #tiny!tommy #tiny!phil #tiny!tubbo #giant!wilbur #giant!ranboo

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aiekerman · 4 years

Text

Medicine - Levi Ackerman

Levi x Reader - fluff

AN: I am not usually a Valentine’s person but here we are. Levi can really get anything out of me. Also, I realise my fic titles seem a little random but I’m titling them after songs that make the vibe in my head - not necessarily based off, just vibes you know. So yeah this is Medicine by The 1975.

Word count: 1.9k

Summary: It’s Valentine’s day and you’re in work at a café all day. But Levi is there to at least provide some eye candy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘He’s so pretty I might pass out,’ Hitch leant over the counter, her chin in her hand as she unabashedly stares across the café at the man sipping at his tea.

His posture is perfect, balancing a book in one hand while his other holds the top of the tea cup delicately to his mouth. He blends into the café atmosphere like he was there upon its creation. The shop is earth toned, plants hanging all over and soft lighting that cast shadows across his bone structure.

He looked pulled straight out of an indie movie.

The air around him was mysterious yet all consuming, You spent the entire shift stealing glances at him every time he was in. Which was most days. However, Sunday’s took the cake, you assumed he didn’t work on Sundays whatever his job was, as he took the luxury of bringing a book in and spending hours planted at the same table. Working through a multitude of tea as he sat in perfect view to act as eye candy for the baristas for the day.

You steal a last glance at him, while restocking the pastry baskets, internally agreeing with Hitch but turning to her and speaking, ‘Is he worth getting yelled at for not doing anything when a manager sees you?’

Hitch gives her an eye roll before standing up as a customer approaches the counter.

In your own head, you silently think that, yes, he absolutely was worth getting yelled at.

Across the café floor, Levi glances from over the top of his cup when he feels a pair of eyes darting in his direction once again. He took a self indulgent moment to look over you as you gently placed the warm croissants in one of the wicker baskets. From your well-loved sneakers that he presumed to be pair reserved for work, up to your head of hair that bounced and swayed along with your steps.

He was a man who found the joy in life through small moments. His first sip of tea in the morning. Running his hand through his hair once it was freshly washed. Spending his Sunday in the café that was an extra few blocks from his apartment so he could steal glances at the beautiful barista. He could never bring himself to properly talk to you though, that would make it the exact opposite of a small moment.

* * * * * * * * *

You enjoyed Valentine’s day. Your day had started with a card arriving from your parents and your friend back home sending a text message thanking her for flowers that you had booked to be delivered.

When you reached the café for the usual Sunday shift you were met by heart shaped bunting criss-crossing around the whole ceiling.

You settled in behind the counter. It was still early, an orange tint hanging on the edges of the sky. And Sunday mornings were quieter than most, people taking their time to get out of bed. You imagined especially on Valentine’s day, couples would spend the early hours wrapped up in their ‘i love you’s and gift giving. Many opting for breakfast in bed rather than a café trip. You sighed at the dreamy thought.

You were single, and happily so. But you were allowed to indulge in the scenario of a coffee and pancakes being brought to you while you awoke slowly.

Were the pancakes accompanied by steel grey eyes and an undercut from time to time? You could neither confirm nor deny.

Still stuck in your daydreams, you hadn’t noticed that exact pair of grey eyes entering the café and approaching the counter.

He took a moment to look you over while it seemed your head was somewhere else. Your hair sat neater than usual, extra makeup seemed to have been applied; your cheeks more rosy than usual. A pink sweater draped around your figure and Levi swore he could smell the fresh laundry scent wafting from it.

His heart deflated slightly. You probably had a Valentine’s date. He scoffed at himself in his own head. Of course you did, one look at you screamed that you were bound to have people flooding your phone. He chose to ignore any time he noticed a customer flirting with you, but it definitely happened.

You leap when Levi lets off a small cough to catch your attention. Your face immediately blaring with heat as you search for words in your head. You often found herself flustered when it came to serving the stoic faced man.

‘Hi.’

‘Hey’

‘What, uh, what can I get you?’

‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes. Yes! I’m fine thank you for asking. Ignore my last question by the way I know- uh, I know it’s tea.’

You cut yourself off from rambling. Giving a small nod and beginning to tap on the register screen in front of you, putting through his usual pot of black tea.

You stare at the screen with an unnecessary intensity, trying to focus on the words and wipe the image of Levi delivering your breakfast from her mind. An irrational fear that maybe he was secretly a mind reader brewed in the back of your head. It would explain his constant blank slate of a face, he was constantly processing other’s thoughts.

What was actually running through Levi’s head was how pretty you looked in the glow of the morning sun, your face tinted pink in nervousness.

He only slightly fought off a small smile when you beamed up at him with your sweet voice, ‘I’ll bring it over once it’s ready.’

Levi spent the rest of the morning watching you dart around with drinks and dishes. You did most Sunday mornings solo, smiling at usual customers, rhyming off your catalogue of memorised drinks. Levi felt like a dark cloud hanging over the café, dressed in dark colours in the corner and avoiding conversation. While you were a bright ball of sunshine that seemed to honestly just want to make others smile.

The thought of actually talking to you had his tea cup trembling in his hand.

And so he buried his head deeper into his book, settling for hearing your sweet laugh float around the shop.

You sighed, what was originally a five hour shift extended to ten after Hitch called you begging to cover her half of the day, a last minute Valentine date cropping up or something. And who were you to deny the girl some romance?

Your eyes drifted around the shop, it was now three thirty pm, only an hour and half until it was time to shut. The day had mostly been couples wandering through to pick up a takeaway drink in the midst of a romantic stroll. It was hard to resist a wistful look after them as they huddled together in the February chill.

You shook your head from the thought and continued to restock the muffins, even though it would be unlikely that all would be sold before closing came around.

Standing up your head automatically took a turn in Levi’s direction, this was usually the time he would be due a tea top-up. And on cue he set down his empty cup and glanced up at you.

Two pairs of eyes met and you struggled to fight off the heat rising up your neck under his intense stare. His mouth drops open slightly, barely noticeable from the distance between them.

But you notice, the half inch that his shoulders tense up. The miniscule shake of his book. Your throat is suddenly dry, but manages to croak out, ‘more?’

‘Yes, please,’ the words come almost as a sigh. You hold the electric gaze for another second, before scurrying behind the counter, busying your mind with making up the pot of tea.

You drop it to him wordlessly. Keeping your head down, adrenaline still pumping through you from the previous moment.

The last hour and a half of service passes by easily. You avoid any of your usual indulgent looks at the man in the corner of the café, while you begin closing up.

Levi knows he has to go, he’s closed over his book already, one hand on his jacket that’s been draped over his chair all day.

But he can’t just go. His assumption from the morning has proven wrong - at least so far. You don't seem to have a Valentine’s date. And after your...whatever that was, he’s not about to just leave without so much as a hello.

You stood on the small step ladder, fingers nimbly unpinning the heart shaped decorations when his voice pulled you from your thoughts.

‘Um, thanks for your service today.’ Levi cringes. He swears he sounds like a robot.

‘Oh,’ Kasia stares down at him from atop the ladder, ‘thank you.’

Levi swallows. It’s a start.

‘You don’t usually work this late. On a Sunday.’

‘One of the other girls asked if I could cover her. She got a last minute Valentine date.’

You’ve descended the steps now, standing only a metre away from him. You look him over,

His hands are stuffed deep in his pockets, book tucked tightly under his arm. His usual sleek black hair is slightly messed. You didn’t know but he’d spent the last ten minutes tugging at as he tried to find the right conversation starter.

‘You don’t- uh, you don’t have a date?’

You shake your head softly, a small smile beginning to form across your lips.

‘What about you? Don’t you have a girlfriend you should’ve been with all day?’

‘Do you think if I had a girlfriend I’d be here all day every Sunday?’ He lets out a laugh that could be mistaken for a cough.

‘Oh. I just thought…’

‘Thought what?’

‘I don’t know actually. You’re just, uh…’ you stutter, the phrase you’re just so pretty, balancing on the edge of your tongue. ‘What?’ Levi cringes again, his voice coming out harsher than intended, but he freezes up at the quiet words that escape your mouth.

‘Just really pretty.’

They’re barely a whisper, he thinks he could almost be making it up. His subconscious is dreaming up what he wants to hear. But upon looking up at your face, there’s a fear evident in your eyes. As if the words hadn’t meant to escape.

You next words have more energy behind, ‘I am so sorry. That was so inappropriate.’

‘It’s fine, really. You’re, um, also really pretty.’

You swear if your face could get any hotter it’d melt the chocolate in the cookies. Voice immediately fades away again, ‘thank you.’

‘So is it uhh, just you closing up?’

‘Yeah. Just me.’

‘Do you mind if I wait for you? To walk you home? It’ll be too dark to walk alone by the time you’re finished.’

This time you can’t fight the smile as it consumes your whole face, ‘I’d like that.’

His hand reaches out suddenly and a thumb swipes against your cheek.

His eyes go wide upon realising what he did, ‘you had some chocolate. On your cheek.’

You try to respond. But all you can feel is the tingling left over from his touch. And how you wanna feel it again.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi imagine #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman fic #levi fluff #levi fanfiction #aot x reader #aot imagines #snk x reader #snk imagines

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youalexturnermeon · 4 years

Note

Hi! Hope you're well 😊

Can I request a Cobra Kai Johnny imagine? Its Johnny patching up the reader, maybe after a fight with Kreese or something like that? Thank you 😁

Request: see above

A/N: I decided to leave Kreese out of it because even the littlest thought of this man gives me high blood pressure. Also this has gotten very long but I tried to warn that the topic of being patched up by Johnny has been living in my head rentfree for a while. That’s why I got carried away. Enjoy your daily dose of one shot.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, alcohol angst and fluff

Wordcount: 2078 (oopsies)

Johnny was your neighbour, you moved in, right next door, a couple of months ago. So far, nothing more nothing less. Except the fact that you had the biggest crush on him, and he wasn’t that opposed to you either. Especially when he took his time got ready to go after his Karate classes when the Yoga group arrived to which he sublet his dojo and he stayed behind, sitting in his office, door open watching you, bent over, doing the most complicated figures ha had ever seen. Johnny thought Yoga was the biggest bullshit on earth, fuck Namaste and such, but when you were doing it right in front his thirsty eyes, he didn’t even need TV. He thought you were super-hot. The problem was that he was much older than you. And besides your Yoga passion and your joint love for beer that you sometimes had together, sitting on the ground in front of the apartment complex, he knew almost nothing about you. He wished he did, even more when you once caught him eyeing you doing the Downward Dog on the mat and instead of giving him the finger for being a creep you winked at him and grinned. That made him crazy. But he was too afraid to make a move, because, let’s be honest, you were young, you were beautiful, you were extremely hot – what the fuck should you do with an old man like him, to begin with. Johnny thought, you could have anyone you wanted, someone younger, taller, fitter, more buff than him.

Right now, Johnny was sitting on the ground in front of his apartment, a beer in his hand, a couple of spear ones just in case, thinking about the last time you sat here next to him, hoping you would come out your door or back from work joining him, just to talk and to drink. A few weeks ago, around that time, you just finished work, you were tired and angry in desperate need of a drink, you sat down to him and you shared that you were a barista at Starbucks, how much you hated some customers, how years ago you moved here to go to college and how you dropped out of it three years later, simple small talk getting superficially deeper with an increased number of beers. These were little things, but Johnny was longing for more of those, sitting waiting for this occasion to repeat itself. He wanted to know everything about you and unlike with other people he wanted to share his life with you, too.

After some time, Johnny, realizing how desperate and stupid he was, now acting like a teenager again, suddenly saw your silhouette in the dark, coming closer. His excitement grew, his heart started beating faster and as much as he hated it, his palms became all sweaty. He wated to jump up, run towards you, but he pulled himself together and just sat still, focusing on a little bug crawling on the ground, not daring to look up again

“Hi, Johnny” you said, sounding exhausted, when you finally approached him and heavily sat down, opening a beer without asking. Johnny was about to greet you back when he looked up from his stupid little insect friend, as he saw your roughed-up condition. His excitement vanished and glanced at you in utter horror. Your long (Y/H/C) hair was all messy, the collar of what has once been a shirt was ripped and hung loosely down your shoulder and when he inspected your face, he gulped. Right on your perfect cheekbone was a fresh bleeding wound surrounded by a huge flowering purple bruise. Your pretty face now twisted to a grimace from pain.

“Jesus Christ, (Y/N), what happened to you?” he asked perplexed, examining your whole body for other injuries he might’ve still not noticed yet.

You shook your head and grinned, “Nothing special, ran into my ex who was the reason I moved to the other side of town, he found out where I was working and decided to pick me up, apparently. He insists I still owe him money, which I don’t. And when I told him this we got into a little fight.”

“Did he do this to you?” Johnny pointed at your face and your now rugged shirt, him voice was filled with fury, he was right about to jump up and hunt that motherfucker down.

“Yeah, but you should’ve seen him when I was finished with him.”

Johnny was surprised how easily you took a big fat black eye, not voicing your pain, laughing away the fight with your ex.

“I kicked his ass!”

Johnny looked at your hands, eyes narrowed. And indeed, all signs showed him that you were able to fight back. Carefully he took your hand in his, making sure he would not hurt you anymore and pulled it closer to his face. Your knuckles were just as the right side of your face, bloody and bruised. You shivered under his touch but for the first time in what seemed to you like forever since you bumped into your ex, you felt your body relaxing. The tension in your shoulders vanishing just because Johnny held your hand in yours so softly. His own were rough from all the training but it felt so good.

“I’m no little bitch, I took a few boxing lessons when I was a teenager” you explained, “When he pulled my shirt, I slapped him, when he started hitting me, I started hitting him back hard, I still got it, then I kicked him in the nuts and managed to run away”

“I’m so, so, so happy to hear to nothing worse happened to you. Next time you see that jerk, you call me, okay? Or when you are afraid to go home by yourself, call me and I pick you up, I bring you home. When I ever see your ex somewhere near here or you, I’m gonna make sure, he’s never gonna touch you or come near you ever again. I’ll even kill that motherfucker for you!”

You laughed and looked into his piercing blue eyes who still showed so much worry and you knew, he was being dead serious.

“Thank you, Johnny!” you whispered, your hand still in his and yet you couldn’t help yourself to make a joke because you could not bear being too serious about your situation right now. You were not used to someone care about you too much.

“But do you think you could manage? Would you be able to kick his ass?” “Is me being a sensei at the dojo you do your stupid yoga in a joke to you, (Y/N)” Johnny said protectively but he too, was glad you could joke right now.

“That stupid yoga you always check my ass out thinking you’re so hidden in your office?”

“Well…” Johnny scratched his head and looked into the air thinking of an even pettier response than yours, but he couldn’t think of any “You got me there”

“I’m actually flattered” you admitted. Until now you weren’t so sure it was you, he was watching so closely.

“Great, now you only have to admit that you are checking me out as well when you’re done with Yoga and I’m leading a class.” You shrugged, “I sometimes do, I love myself a good-looking man who is great with shitty children” Johnny taking another sip of his beer almost choked on it. He was not expecting THAT.

“Alright, good to have this one settled” he said trying to play it cool “Now let’s go patch you up a little”

Without any hesitation or even backtalk which Johnny actually was expecting to get, you followed him and into his apartment. He sat you down on the couch with a new beer in your hand and disappeared into his bedroom.

“Are there any other injuries I should know about?” he yelled whilst rummaging in every cupboard.

“Well, besides my depression, I guess the bastard also managed to kick me in the ribs. Some ice would be great”

Johnny wasn’t even sure he had a first-aid kit somewhere, he wasn’t even sure he ever owned one. Ice would also be a problem, but he thought, a bag of frozen peas or a steak would do, too. After a little search he finally stood with a clean towel, a bottle of vodka and some band aids in front of you again. Firstly, he gave you the peas.

“Show me your ribs” he commanded, and you lifted your ripped shirt. Your complete left side was crowned by an even bigger and darker bruise than the one on your face. He was concerned and hoped nothing was broken and yet he almost shivered seeing your bare skin. To him, you were the most beautiful thing in the whole world right now, even with your beaten face.

“Looks bad” he said and sighed as he sat down next to you and watched you putting the bag of frozen vegetables on your ribs, you hissed.

“It’s nothing. They’re not broken. Broken ribs hurt like hell and this is really nothing compared to that.” Johnny lifted his eyebrows in question.

“I broke my ribs a couple of times” “So you’re a tough cookie?” “You’re not the only tough guy on the block, sensei. I’m not a pussy.” you laughed and friendly nudged him with your elbow. He loved when you called him sensei. And he was excited about the fact that your language was so similar to his. He started to like you even more than he already did.

“Aright, alright. If this is nothing, let’s take care of your face then.”

He turned to you, in his hand the towel now soaked in vodka. He cleaned the crusted blood from your knuckles first. Then, he took a deep breath, he carefully started dabbing the cut on your face. You clenched your teeth but didn’t make a sound.

“Good girl” he said, “No bitching or moaning, that’s good!”

You just watched his face, being just inches away from your own. You saw his concern; you saw that he cared, and your heart started pounding. Your glance followed his toned arms, eyeing his muscles, tensing under his motions. And when you looked at his eyes you saw that they were the bluest blue you have ever seen; you were about to pass out. He was so concentrated; he didn’t even notice you staring at him like a crazy person falling in love. It was only, when he finished sticking the band aid to your face, he realized you looked him straight in the eyes.

He said nothing, you two were just stuck in this moment, sitting on the couch, so close your legs touched, looking at each other, your face so close to him, he felt your hot breath. And then, something in him snapped. He wanted to kiss you!

“I’m gonna kiss you now, (Y/N)!”, he immediately voiced his thought and stroked your unharmed cheek, not asking for permission, just announcing what he was about to do.

“Yeah?” you managed to breath out almost completely silent. And the answer crushed promptly down on you. You closed your eyes and instantly felt soft lips on yours. Johnny, your neighbour Johnny, the Johnny who was so much older than you, the Johnny who you were crushing on since the moment he helped carry your boxes, was finally kissing you. The bag of peas slipped out of your hands and you let them rest on his thighs. Johnny was pulling you closer to his chest until there wasn’t any space left between you two. He was urging and yet so gentle, doing everything to not hurt you. He caressed your back, his left hand dug into your messy hair giving it a slight tug, but not once did his lips leave yours. After what seemed an eternity and yet just a second, he let go of you and pressed his forehead onto yours, out of breath, smiling because he just couldn’t keep himself from not doing it. You joined him.

“You’re gonna go out with me some time now, right?”, he asked laughing in disbelief of his own courage and what it have brought him. Now this question seemed so easy.

“Yeah, pick me up after my yoga lesson tomorrow” you giggled, “Maybe you’ll get another look at my ass”

“You bet!”

#johnny lawrence #johnny lawrence x reader #johnny lawrence imagine #johnny lawrence fluff #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai one shot #cobra kai #fluff #karate kid #karate kid imagine

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20rubixcubes · 4 years

Photo

enhypen as baristas

maknae line x gn!reader (comedy, fluff, mild angst)

~1.2k words ea (headcanons)

warnings: cursing

a/n: i just wrote this for funsies, please be mindful that there is heavy swearing in these headcanons (particularly in ni-ki’s part), so if that isn’t your taste, perhaps skip this one! other than that, the rest of this is pretty chill, so i hope you enjoy my shitposting. oh, and lmk if you like this enough to want part two with the hyung line 👀 just maybe i’ll do it

sunoo

was only recently employed as an afternoon shift employee and was both shocked and distressed after discovering the cafe didnt have an instagram

“what do you MEAN you dont have instagram??? how do we post selfies???” “sunoo we sell coffee” “NO ONE WANTS COFFEE JUNGWON THEY WANT CUTE BARISTAS”

starts an instagram for the cafe and takes aesthetic pictures of his latte art

his selfies get way more likes though

speaking of his latte art, he masters the skill like a week in and everyone else is incredibly jealous

their jealousy wears off when jungwon tells him that he has to start training the new apprentices

pretends he forgot how to do it for like a week but it hurts his pride so he begrudgingly agrees to train the apprentices instead

in his free time he can be found snapping pictures around the shop, eventually expanding to taking pictures of the others too

“sunghoon stop moving you look cute and i need to take a photo” “sunoo im holding hot milk” “does it look like i care beauty is pain sweetie”

other than that, he sometimes sits in the booths to snack on muffins and do his homework since he only comes in to the shop for about an hour during his school lunch break and on the weekends

you meet sunoo after applying for an apprenticeship, wanting to get a job before you finish high school and start college

seen as though jungwon looks like the boss, you approach him, nervous for your first shift

“i’m here for the apprenticeship program?” “oh yeah! one second!”

he trots off to the back room, leaving you standing awkwardly in the middle of the cafe

“SUNOO GET OFF JAY YOU HAVE AN APPRENTICE TO TRAIN” “*gasp* YOU MADE ME SMUDGE HIS LIPSTICK I'M QUITTING” “NO YOURE NOT GET OUT THERE RIGHT NOW”

the yelling pauses before who you presume is sunoo stomps through the back room door, a scowl on his face

he spots you, groaning loudly “are you the apprentice?”

“yes” you say meekly, guilty for seeming to ruin his shift

he gestures you to follow him behind the counter, pulling an apron out from under the sink and shoving it to your chest

its clear that hes pissed, yanking his tools out from the cupboards as you tie your apron behind your back quietly

“have you made coffee before?” “only instant coffee” “oh fantastic”

he seems to be getting more irritated by the minute before he takes a deep breath and starts directing you around the machines

“to do the art, you angle the mug like this and draw with the milk, but it wont show until it reaches the top so dont go crazy”

as if its nothing, he demonstrates by drawing a perfect swan in the milk, setting the latte down and dusting his hands off

“wow… thats amazing” “i know right? no one here appreciates me enough” “they should! this is the best i’ve ever seen”

he grins at your compliment, nodding with satisfaction and sending a wave of relief over you as you notice he looks less angry with you now

“um… im sorry if i interrupted whatever you were doing before” “oh, that? i was just doing jay’s makeup” “you like makeup? me too! i’ve never seen a boy interested in it though, thats really cool” you smile genuinely at him as he blinks in surprise

“really? you think its cool?” “definitely!”

you watch the gears turn in his head before he smiles widely, seeming to have come to some kind of revelation as he nods

“i like you.”

your cheeks heat up immediately, but before you can say anything in return, he starts calling out for jungwon, leaning over the counter

“JUNGWOOON, CAN WE HAVE THIS ONE?”

“well thats up to them” he looks up from the table hes wiping down, adjusting his apron as he walks over to the counter

“so youre all finished with the course? i hope sunoo wasnt too much for you”

“i wasnt! anyways, youre employed, okay?” “sunoo stop theyre just an apprentice”

he groans loudly, irritated once more as he whips his head to you

“you have to work here, ok? i said so, so come back and apply or i’ll be mad!”

you laugh at his antics and smile “i’ll see what i can do”

after jungwon pries sunoo off of your arm, you return your apron and leave the shop with a wave

“YOU BETTER COME BACK!” is the last thing you hear as you step out onto the street, the bell ringing to signal your exit

a week later, you return to the shop, slightly anxious that your new friend(?) might have forgotten about you

but this is quickly washed away when you hear a high pitched squeal from the counter

“JUNGWON! HURRY THE FUCK UP AND GET THE FORMS THEYRE HERE”

you laugh as you approach the counter, a teasing tone on your voice

“are you supposed to be talking to your boss like that?” “whats he gonna do? fire me? im the only one who can make coffee in this place” “true”

soon enough, jungwon comes out of his hiding place, his hands clasped together

“im really sorry to ask this but please, you have to work here, sunoo hasnt shut up about you all week and i dont know if i can stand him anymore, i’ll even pay you extra please dear god”

you give sunoo a look, only receiving an innocent smile and puppy eyes back

“sure, i’ll take the job!”

jungwon sighs in relief as sunoo begins jumping up and down, yelling something about having his own little baby to take care around the shop as you groan, covering your blushing face

once you have your hours established (sunoo made you take the same as all of his, but you did the nights instead of the afternoons on the weekends, to his displeasure), you get straight to working

… well, sort of

it was hard to get work done with sunoo pestering you around the clock

“you think im cute right?” “yes sunoo” “even though i have bags under my eyes? “yes sunoo” “you promise?” “yes sunoo” “good”

admittedly he is slightly of help when it comes to the more fiddly parts of making coffee, but every other second of the day he seems to be flirting nonstop

“can i kiss you?” “no” “why not” “sunoo we’ve been over this” “BEING AT WORK ISNT A VALID EXCUSE”

worn down after his incessant yelling all day, you find yourself snapping faster than usual

“we’re not even dating, sunoo! why would i kiss you!? just stop playing with my feelings already!”

for the first time since you’ve known him, sunoo goes quiet

“why not?”

“what are you talking about now sunoo?” “why arent we dating”

now its your turn to go quiet

“do you not like me?” “what? no, sunoo-” before you can reason with him, you watch him quickly rush away from you around the counter, slamming the break room door behind him with tears in his eyes

cursing to yourself, you ensure there are no customers to serve before quickly darting after him

after looking around a bit, you hear sniffling from the supply closet and knock on the door quietly

“sunoo?” “leave me alone!”

you sigh, taking a step back and turning on your heel to face the opposite direction, running a hand through your hair as you think

you spot a dog bed at your feet, suddenly remembering that jake usually keeps his dog supplies covered in dog hair in the closet

“sunoo arent you allergic to dogs?”

“... *sniffle* y-yeah”

after you persuade him to come out by mentioning that his face is going to get all puffy, he steps out, eyes glued to the floor as he looks away from you in shame

placing a hand on his shoulder, you speak to him softly

“sunoo, look at me”

he does, hesitantly, his eyes red and watery and, as you said, puffy and inflamed

despite this, you smile

“i do like you back”

his eyes start watering again, your heart skipping a beat in fear that you had said something wrong

“e-even if my face is all puffy and gross?” his voice wobbles, the tears filling his eyes giving him a sense of vulnerability as you sigh

“yes, even if your face is all puffy and gross”

he smiles at that, shutting his eyes cutely as you press a kiss to his cheek

“and theres your kiss”

he whines “i was supposed to do that!”

“you can do it after we finish work, okay?” “WORK STILL ISNT A VALID EXCUSE…. but maybe today just because i need to ice my face” “yeah you really should, can you even see?” “no not at all” “great”

jungwon

the previous manager left suddenly and jungwon was given a semi-forced promotion as he was the only employee with at least half of a brain cell

poor boy is stressed 24/7

doesnt get paid enough for this

“hey jungwon we ran out out of coffee bea-” “I ORDERED NEW ONES FOUR HOURS AGO NOW SHUT UP IM TRYING TO MAKE SURE THE BOSS DOESNT FIND JAKE’S DOG SHELTER IN THE SUPPLY CLOSET”

goes through hell every day just to make sure the others dont burn the cafe down

is supposed to be on the morning shift but he stays until the afternoon

in his rare moments of downtime, he likes to go around and water the hanging plants around the shop

is that one vine where the mom listens to nicki minaj for the first time and screams “no” over and over whenever ni-ki gets control of the cafe music

“RIKI NISHIMURA WHAT IS THAT ON THE SPEAKERS” “ITS OUR LORD AND SAVIOUR ARIANA GRANDE” “TURN IT OFF THIS IS NOT PG13” “SHUT THE FUCK UP GRANDPA”

is only 16 but acts like a 32-year-old father going through a midlife crisis

lifts boxes of supplies all day yet his joints are famously brittle

“hey jungwon did you hear glass shattering too?” “sorry jay that was my back” “you need to invest in physical therapy” “maybe if i wasnt paying for property damage every other week 😊”

you meet jungwon when you drop into the cafe for a croissant and a coffee before your class starts

usually you come at night maybe an hour before closing so you had never seen him before, but here you were watching this cute but clearly stressed boy scramble around the shop carrying boxes of supplies to the back

trying not to be creepy, you sigh, turning back to your phone after watching him for a solid five minutes straight

as you do, you hear a crash coming from what you assume is the supply closet followed by a disgruntled groan

pausing, looking around at the other customers typing away at their laptops and waiting for another staff member to go check on the boy, you stand up as you discern that he must be the only one working and hesitantly go to see if he’s okay

“hello? are you okay?” you peer through the door, your eyes widening at the sight of him rubbing his head with a wince on his features, supplies strewn around him at his feet and a box knocked over beside him

“ah… um, yes, i’m okay, sorry if i disturbed you with that noise…” he smiles bashfully, pulling himself back onto his feet

“do you need help with all of that stuff?”

he opens his mouth to protest, not wanting to have to ask for help from a customer, but after seeing the amount of crap off of the shelves, he realises that there is no way in hell he’s going to be able to clean all of it up alone before his shift ends

“um… is that okay?” his cheeks flush with embarrassment as you smile

“sure!”

over the next couple of hours you two establish a little system of bagging the spilt supplies and passes them to eachother to put in boxes, chatting never ceasing as you discover that you actually have a lot of things in common

“since you work here, what’s your favourite kind of coffee?” “i like lattes… i cant stand bitter things” “me too! my friend drinks espressos though” “ditch them”

you also find out that he started being homeschooled after becoming the manager as he doesnt have time to attend normal school

the both of you find yourselves laughing nonstop, having fun in eachother’s company

so much so that you end up late for school

“oh shit! i completely missed my first class”

guilty for making you late, he offers to take you

“i can take you?” “you drive?” “well….. not exactly”

once sunoo and ni-ki arrive to care for the shop, he takes you out to the car park, pulling a spare helmet out of his backpack and securing it on your head before giving your head a pat as he gets onto his scooter

“you look cute” “i look like a bug” “a cute bug”

once you get to school, face red after having to hold onto him the entire time, you hop off and pass him the helmet with a shy smile

“thanks for driving me” you mutter, brushing off imaginary dirt from your shirt as you do your best to avoid eye contact, your face still flushed and heart racing

is it possible to develop a crush on someone this quickly???

jungwon is so cute that he makes it possible, you surmise

“of course” he mirrors your nervous smile, a blush finding its way to his own cheeks

as you bow and spin on your heel to start walking inside, he stops you

“wait!”

“what is it?” you turn to him, your heart still thundering against your ribcage at the fond expression he has plastered on his features

“actually… can i pick you up? after school?”

when you pause, your face growing hotter and hotter, he begins to sputter

“i-i’m really sorry, its fine if not! that was way too forward, i just really like you and- oh god that was even more forward- um-” “okay” “yeah i’m sorry that was a stupid questio- wait, what?”

before he can say anything else, your smile widens

“i’ll see you later, okay? don’t be late!” you wave, skipping into the building with a fluffy feeling in your chest

with an awkward wave, jungwon watches you leave, his mouth wide open in shock before a grin replaces his expression

getting back into his seat, the lovestruck smile never leaving his face as he drives off, he begins to count down the minutes until he gets to see you again

ni-ki

works the afternoon shift

technically an apprentice but he gets paid and has been there forever so basically an employee at this point

or he would be if he ever actually made coffee

he sits with the work phone all morning and chooses the music

perpetually dancing to 7 rings by ariana grande (look up his cover. youre welcome in advance)

jungwon and jay scream at him to at least do the mopping to which he complies, but not without performing a whole ass concert with it

once they saw him twirl and dip the mop

eventually they just told him to go back to curating the music because he was scaring customers away and they were losing business

he was horrible at cleaning anyway

“hey jungwon i think i got window cleaner in your plant” “im firing you” “i dont even go here” “STOP QUOTING MEAN GIRLS AND FIX THE DAMAGE YOUVE CAUSED”

you meet ni-ki while youre drinking your coffee at a booth and he plays your favourite obscure indie song so you have to compliment his taste and get to talking

he plays your favourite songs whenever youre in the shop and audibly hisses at anyone who tries to change it

makes choreography to said songs at home and tries to impress you by casually belting it out by your booth

when you compliment his dancing and ask how long hes been practicing that choreography hes all like “oh hahaha it was just casual freestyle super easy peasy”

(hes been practicing for two weeks)

thought he was being super obvious by doing these things but apparently nOT because you have not caught the hint at all and hes getting impatient

asks for advice from the others begrudgingly

“give them flowers” “jay thats so boring” “do you want to use one of my dogs? everyone loves dogs” “wtf jake since when have you had more than one dog” “make them latte art with a heart on it” “sunoo ive literally never made a coffee in my life” “why dont you just ask them out like a normal perso-” “shut the fuck up grandpa thats so weird no one does that”

eventually he settles on sunoo’s idea of making you latte art and he embarks on his journey to make his first coffee

rather than focusing on the actual taste, sunoo tells him to just do whatever so that he can show him how to do the art

“why is it green ni-ki” “you said to do whatever” “and your first idea was to make poison? idk if this is the best idea if youre trying to ask this person out” “shut up and pass me the milk”

burns his hands on the steaming milk jug at least fifteen times and ends up with so many bandaids on his fingers

despite how stiff the bandages are on his hands, he eventually manages to make a sort-of legible heart

“it looks like africa” “have you ever had steamed milk poured on your eyes sunoo?”

poor ni-ki waits for you all day, his heart leaping every time the bell on the door rings only to roll his eyes when it isnt you

he even stays past his shift so youd better let him take you on a date or hes quitting

when you finally arrive he trips over the bucket at his feet he was using to clean and spills dirty water all over his pants

“omg ni-ki are you okay what happened” *five octaves higher* “NOTHING I'M COMPLETELY FINE WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT”

by the time he’s finished cleaning himself up (and by that i mean fixing his hair in the mirror for twenty minutes) he takes a deep breath and walks over to you, somewhat cold latte in hand

“um,” he clears his throat, his face growing red as he slides the mug towards you “i made this for you”

“aw thanks ni-ki! why is it green” “........its matcha?”

youre slightly suspicious but you look back to the mug and slowly realise that the “drawing” slightly resembles a heart, smiling a little bit to yourself

when you look back to him, youre a little confused as to why hes just standing there

“is something wrong?” you press the mug to your lips, taking a sip

“o-uh uh actually, i wanted to ask if… if you would uh maybe sort of go on a date with me”

you can only smile

“yes, but…”

his heart starts beating faster, watching you anxiously

you stand up, taking the notepad and pen from his apron pocket and scribbling your phone number

“only if you promise to learn how to make actual coffee” you wink, handing him the notepad and sauntering out of the shop

hes stood there dumbstruck, stars in his eyes at the slip of paper in his hand

but then he realises: he has a new mission

rushing to the back room, he slams the door open

“grandpa, i need you to teach me how to make coffee right now” “literally why do i pay you”

with your promise in mind, the others see him work more diligently at the counter than they ever have before

“wow youre actually working today?” “shut up i need to figure out how to do this butterfly before i pry my eyes out with a fork” “haha funny joke ni-” “did i stutter”

at the end of the week, he forces heeseung (the cafe’s best coffee maker) and sunoo (the cafe’s best latte artist) to judge his latte

“this is… surprisingly good” heeseung peers into the mug, smiling at the swan ni-ki created with the latte foam as sunoo grumbles “dont tell me im gonna have to start competing with this kid, it probably tastes gross” “it tastes amazing too” “im quitting”

with his coworkers’ notes in mind, he finally works up the nerve to send you a quick message telling you to come into the shop

when you arrive the next day, ni-ki greets you and immediately gets to work, making sure to stand as close as humanly possible to your booth so he can show off his newly acquired coffee making skills

with you only inches away, he does make a mistake and spill milk on his shirt after looking at you and not his hands for a second too long, but you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt when he sets the mug in front of you

“wow! this heart is perfect!”

you smile, looking up to him “did you seriously learn how to do latte art just so you could take me on a date?” “… y-yeah, and?”

you can only chuckle as you press the mug to your lips, readying yourself to drink liquid dirt…

“this is… really good!” you grin, taking another sip and putting the mug down on its saucer

“i think you’ve definitely earned yourself a date… or two”

at this news, ni-ki’s face lights up, shoving the urge to scream down his throat before nodding stiffly to try and contain his excitement with a strained “cool” escaping his lips

“are you okay ni-ki?” “yes just give me one second”

he quickly scrambles to the break room, a moment of silence wafting through the store before a shrill scream fills the air

eyes wide, you turn to jay, who had been manning the till, after hearing him burst into laughter

“what is he doing?”

“we told him the freezer was sound proof”

#grumbles i guess i will tag #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen headcanons #kim sunoo #yang jungwon #nishimura riki #kim sunoo x reader #yang jungwon x reader #nishimura riki x reader

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unholyobsessions · 4 years

Text

Sunset Coffee

Pairing: Julie x Luke

Description: Julie develops a crush on the cute barista, little does she know he feels the same way

Warnings: none i think

Word Count: 3.5k

Prompt for jatp week Day 2: Write an AU. Modern AU / Coffee Shop AU @jatp-week

The bell above the door dings as Julie pushes it open. The smell of freshly brewed coffee fills her nostrils and she scrunches her face. She dislikes coffee, always has, too bitter for her taste, but she loves hot chocolate. Her mom used to make it for her at least twice a week and for a year after her mom’s passing, she made it her goal to find a coffee shop that made it as good as her mom did.

Sunset Coffee is a small shop in the corner of a small suburban neighborhood. It’s hidden behind the façade of a one story home, the only evidence of its existence being the small sign by the front lawn and on the door and the amazing yelp reviews left by their devoted customers.

Julie discovered it by accident. She was riding her bike around aimlessly through the city when she had the sudden urge to use the bathroom. Deciding to knock on the friendliest looking house, she was surprised to see the sign by the door. She went in carefully, not wanting to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere created by the music playing softly in the background, and a number of college-looking students on their laptops or with textbooks opened around them. She went up to the island at the corner of the room, being used as a makeshift counter, and asked the barista on the other side if she could use their bathroom. The girl, looking no older than nineteen, smiled and pointed her in the correct direction.

Julie smiled back and rushed to the empty hallway, opening the door and walking in to do her business. She decides to stick around, going back to the counter and asking the question she has asked at dozens of other coffee shops.

“Do you sell hot chocolate?” The smile she receives in return answers her question. She stands by the counter as she waits for her drink, allowing her eyes to drift over the room. The walls are covered with different types of hand writing. Quotes from books, movies, or tv shows. Jokes, phone numbers, emails, and instagram handles. Theres a basket by the door, she notes, filled to the brim with different color markers, encouraging people to express themselves.

She receives her drink and she takes it, handing her the exact amount of change. She decides to explore the rest of the rooms, intrigued with the nice shop. The next room has couches instead of chairs and the walls are painted with chalk paint. There’s drawings, to-do lists, and so much more written on the walls. She smiles and takes the first sip of her drink. As soon as the liquid hit her tongue, she knows that she will never get a hot chocolate from anywhere else. It’s not quite the same as her mom’s but the difference is what makes it so good.

There’s a hint of cinnamon hidden behind the rich taste of chocolate and Julie finds herself closing her eyes, savoring the moment. She continues exploring, keeping a grasp of the mug. There is a total of four rooms. The entry one, the chalk one, one with bright red booths, mimicking an 80s looking diner, complete with a jukebox in the corner, and the last one that has normal black tables with gold accented walls. There are autographed picture frames of famous people who Julie assumes have visited the coffee shop hanging on the walls.

After finishing the drink, Julie places the mug in the sink by the corner meant for all used mugs and glasses. She bids goodbye to the barista and leaves, making note of the address and promising herself to be back soon. She went back two days later and has been there almost everyday. She goes after school, to do either her homework or work on some songs.

She looks up from her phone, ready to greet Flynn, who she became fast friends with and no longer has to even ask what she’s having, already having the drink prepped since seeing her pull up. She is however met by a male voice, welcoming her into the shop. Julie’s head snaps up to meet his eyes and she freezes. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen anyone as attractive as the man standing before her. She clears her throat and continues walking forward, already pulling out her wallet from her backpack. She hands him the exact amount needed as she always does and he merely raises an eyebrow.

“Umm what are you having?”

Julie gapes at him, feeling stupid for her actions. “Oh! Right. A hot chocolate please. Sorry, Flynn already knows what I order so it’s a force of habit.” The man chuckles and presses a few buttons on the cash register, taking the money from her and handing her the receipt a few seconds later.

“No worries, I normally work mornings but Flynn called in sick so I offered to come in today.” He walks back to make her drink and Julie stands awkwardly by, gripping the straps of her backpack. He turns back and hands her the cup with a smile. “So with Flynn knowing your drink I’m guessing you’re a regular?” He asks, hoping to start a conversation with the pretty girl.

“Yeah,” Julie looks down for a second. “I’m Julie.” She would have offered her hand for a handshake but considering her grip on the mug, she decides it’s a bad idea.

“I’m Luke.” He slightly bites his lip and Julie has to try her best not to swoon over him. She nods her head and takes a step back going to sit in one of the empty tables. She normally opts for the couches in the chalk room but for some reason (certainly not the attractive barista) she decides to stay in the front room today.

Luke Patterson’s parents have owned Sunset Coffee since he can remember. The quaint little house on a suburban street owned by his grandparents was left to his family after their passing. The decision to remodel came after his dad lost his job, and the extra house in his name left room for ideas. He remembers sitting with his parents at the kitchen table as they decided what to do with it and his small, seven-year-old voice, speaking his opinion.

“We can sell coffee!”

Of course Luke didn’t drink coffee, but he hears the compliments given to his father’s coffee every time they have company over. To him it’s just a bitter drink he had once but from what he’s seen and heard, it’s seen as a necessity by adults.

His parents were a bit skeptical at first but the idea grew on them and they got to work. His mother designed the rooms, taking inspiration from the internet and his father took care of the menu, trying different concoctions that would often be served with dinner, decaf for young Luke of course.

Once it opened, it took a while for people to notice the hidden gem but once they did, everyone loved it. Although not known by many, those who come once normally decide to keep coming, loving the atmosphere it holds.

He started working there when he turned sixteen. At first he took the afternoon shift since he was still in high school, but after graduating he much preferred working mornings, since that left all of his afternoon free to practice with his band.

He’s known his bandmates all of his life. Living next door to Bobby made them friends by default and when they started first grade, they were introduced to both Alex and Reggie and the four have been inseparable ever since. They formed Sunset Curve freshmen year, naming themselves after their designated hangout spot.

They’re always hanging around when Luke has a shift, which is why it is not surprising when they burst through the door of the coffee shop as he is distracted, staring at Julie. The yell of his name breaks his trance and he rolls his eyes at the sight that greets him.

Reggie is draped over Bobby’s back, eyes drooping shut, probably from staying up all night writing his beloved country songs. Alex is smiling lovingly down at his phone and Luke makes a mental note of to tease him about that later.

They make their way to Luke and he tells them to go wait for his shift to be over in the diner room and then they could discuss their next gig. He tries his best to usher them away quickly, knowing that he will find it easier to work up the nerve to talk to Julie without them in the same room. They eye him suspiciously but ultimately ignore his strange attitude, walking away and down the hallway.

As this happens, Julie is opening her laptop and slipping on her earphones, her Spotify is opened to her ‘You Can Do It’ playlist and she hopes that this will encourage her to actually write her Common App essay. She is consistently drinking from the mug, finishing her hot chocolate sooner than expected.

After his friends finally decide to leave him alone he looks back to the pretty girl, lost in the her own little word. He is shocked to find the empty mug already placed on the table, and he is sure he has never seen anyone drink a hot chocolate that fast. He makes the quick decision to make her another one because by the way she has settled into her seat, it looks like she is going to be here for a while.

A few minutes later, Julie is startled when Luke picks up the empty cup and places new warm beverage, complete with whipped cream on the top, in front of her. She slips off one earbud and turns to him.

“Oh I didn’t order another one,” which as she thinks back, is a pretty stupid thing to say because of course he knows that she didn’t order another one, considering the fact that she has not moved from her spot.

“I know, it’s on the house,” he smiles at her and Julie swears it’s like looking at the rising sun. So bright, but beautifully enchanting that it makes it impossible to look away.

“Thank you,” she says, slightly embarrassed because she doesn’t know if he’s flirting or if he is just being considerate.

Of course Luke is flirting with her, and he hopes to God it’s working. He wants to ask for her number, but as he spots her laptop and sees the screen he suddenly deflates. There is a list of prestigious colleges open next to her google doc filled with essay prompts. He however, barely graduated and is not even in community college as he waits for his band to make it big. He has never been insecure about his decisions, and is actually extremely proud of what the band has accomplished, but as he stands before this beautiful and obviously intelligent girl, he suddenly feels as if his accomplishments are not good enough.

So instead of asking her out as he originally planned to, he walks away. He continues to stare at her though, and if he starts asking Flynn to switch shifts with him more often then it’s merely a coincidence.

. . .

It takes a month of endless pining for his friends to finally attempt to knock some sense into him.

It’s the eighteenth time that Luke has asked Flynn to change shifts with him in order to see Julie and speak to her for a few minutes. Flynn definitely knows what’s going on, and knows full well that Luke’s crush is reciprocated because of her many late night phone calls with Julie. She, of course, doesn’t say anything, simply agreeing to take the morning shift, and sending a quick text to Julie telling her that her knight in shining armor will be working that day. This text normally leads to Julie clearing her schedule and going to the coffee shop if she wasn’t planning to already.

Their interactions normally go as follows:

Julie smiles. Luke smiles back. Luke makes the drink, and gives her a compliment. “I like your jacket.” Julie will blush and avert her eyes, speaking a soft “Thank you” before taking the drink and paying. If she’s feeling confident (normally caused by a good score on a test that day) she’ll compliment him back. “I like your t-shirt” which normally translates to ‘I listen to that band as well.’ Luke will grin and then Julie will walk away.

It drives them both crazy because this is how they actually want their interactions to go:

Julie smiles. Luke smiles back. Luke makes the drink and gives her a compliment. “You look beautiful today.” Julie thanks him and compliments him back with a teasing smile. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” She takes the drink and pays but before she can walk away Luke stops her. “Do you maybe want to go out sometime?” Julie internally screams but keeps her cool on the outside, not wanting to seem desperate. “Yes, definitely.” They look away bashfully and Julie takes the seat closest to the counter, keeping conversation with Luke for the rest of his shift.

It never happens and it annoys all the regulars who have picked up on their feelings for each other.

Today, Julie finds herself receiving a text from Flynn which is why she is now pedaling in the direction of Sunset Coffee. There is a nice, light wind that rustles her hair as she bikes across the city. She stops in front of her favorite place, kicking down the stand and placing the bike behind the fence. She smiles at Luke, who, as per usual, sends her a grin and a wave from behind the counter.

Alex, Reggie, and Bobby, sit on the table closest to Luke, sending him teasing smiles that cause him to blush. He turns to make Julie’s regular hot chocolate as she takes out the exact change from her wallet. They all eye the exchange, wondering if today will finally be the day one of them makes a move. They are disappointed to see the two exchange nothing more than shy smiles and thank you before Julie walks away and into another room.

Luke turns back to his friends, ready to continue their conversation about the gig on Saturday to find them all glaring at him. He quickly raises his hands up in defense, rushing out a “What?”

“You’re an idiot,” Alex says. Which is followed by “Agreed” and “I second that” by both Reggie and Bobby respectively.

“You’ve been in love with her since the second you laid eyes on her. Even Reggie noticed and he is as oblivious as it gets,” Alex continues. Reggie points his finger in agreement, seemingly ignoring the dig at him.

Luke looks down at his feet, already embarrassed out how glaringly obvious he is. “It’s just,” he pauses and his friends wait patiently for him to gather his thoughts. “She’s too good for me. I mean she’s applying to universities right now and not just any random colleges, she’s going for the good ones, Ivys, UCs, that’s more than I ever did. I almost failed out of high school. I’m a knock-off Luke Hemmings doing nothing with his life.”

Insecure is not a trait anyone would normally use to describe Luke. Cocky, passionate, attractive? Sure, but never insecure. They’re all even more surprised at his reasons for not asking a girl out. He normally uses the band as a way to attract people to him, he’s never hidden it in shame.

“Luke you are literally one of the most talented people I have ever met,” Bobby starts. “Just because you crave success in something other than academics it doesn’t make you a failure. If she doesn’t realize how insanely amazing you are then she’s not the one and that’s that.” Luke looks up at him and he’s extremely glad that today is a slow day and the shop is basically empty because he’s almost sure he’s about to cry.

“Go ask her out man,” Reggie says.

“And if she says no then you can just go back to working mornings,” Alex offers. Luke throws a dirty dishrag at him and they all laugh. Luke then takes a deep breath and starts making another hot chocolate to take to Julie, almost sure that she is probably already done with hers.

He holds the drink carefully in his hands and makes his way down the hallway, finding her in the chalk wall room. She’s holding a pencil tight in her head and her eyes are closed. She’s tapping her foot at an even beat before suddenly stopping and writing something down. Her open laptop with a half done essay sits abandoned next to her.

Luke taps her shoulder, startling her out of her daze. She smiles up at him and it only widens once she sees the mug he’s carrying.

“I figured you might want another one,” he shrugs his shoulders as she takes it gratefully.

“You know, you don’t have to keep giving me free drinks,” she says before taking a long sip of the warm beverage.

Luke scratches the back of his neck gives himself a mental pep talk, taking a deep breath before speaking. “Well, if I’m being honest, I keep doing it trying to work up the courage to ask you out.” He fiddles with the apron tied around his waist and looks at her, trying to decipher what she’s thinking.

Julie doesn’t know what she’s thinking. The guy she has been simping over for a month just said he wants to ask her out, she focuses her energy on swallowing the sip she already had in her mouth without choking before looking up at him. She gets a sudden wave of confidence (she aced her calculus test) and she opens her mouth to speak. “And have you? Built up the courage I mean.”

She sends him a dazzling smile and Luke is sure that he is about to faint but he manages to keep his composure. “I sure hope so,” he mumbles under his breath before saying, “Julie will you like to go on a date with me?”

“I would love to.” They smile at each other before they both look away, suddenly bashful. “How about Saturday?” Julie suggests.

“Actually my band and I have a gig on Saturday,” Luke says slightly embarrassed but then he remembers what Bobby said and stands up straighter. “Actually, will you like to go? To the gig. It’s nothing big really, it’s in this club but it’s supposed to be really packed on Saturdays so we’re hoping it will be good exposure.”

Julie’s eyes widen in surprise, cursing Flynn for not telling her that Luke is in a band because it suddenly made him a hundred times more attractive. “Yes! Oh my gosh I would love to go. I love music, I’m actually applying to be a music major.” Now it’s Luke’s turn to be surprised.

“You play?” He sits down in front of her, his job suddenly forgotten, but he’s confident that one of the guys will take over if a customer comes in. They’ve seen him make orders enough times to know how to do it.

Julie nods. “The piano, my mom taught me when I was young and I fell in love with it. I don’t know what I want to do with it though so I’m hoping to double major in music and something else.”

Luke quickly realizes that his insecurities were completely misplaced. “That’s really cool. I play guitar and I’m the lead singer. Not that I’m bragging!” He is quick to defend himself, not wanting to seem overly confident and Julie giggles.

“When did you start playing?”

“My parents bought me an acoustic guitar when I was six, hoping that it would make me stop running around the house so much. They never expected their son to refuse to go to college to pursue his rock band though.” Luke shrugs at the end, his parents are supportive of him, they weren’t for a while but they came around and go to a lot of his gigs.

“I think it’s really admirable,” Julie says. Luke raises his eyebrows, a silent request for her to elaborate. “To be so passionate about something, to know what you want to do with that passion, and pursuing it no matter what.”

Luke knows he is blushing and is about to say something when Alex, Reggie, and Bobby, pop their heads into the room.

“Did you do it?” “Did she say yes?” “Did you choke?” Are all questions his best friends ask. Luke sighs and shakes his head and Julie does her best to bite back a laugh.

“I did do it. She’s coming to the show on Saturday.” His friends cheer and Julie is unable to contain her laughter.

The guys all rush into the room and introduce themselves to Julie keeping her company as Luke goes back to work.

. . .

Julie goes to their show on Saturday, and every single one of their shows after that. And her decision to accept UCLA’s offer in April was definitely not influenced by her relationship with the cute barista.

#jatp #jatpweek #julie molina #Julie and Luke #luke patterson #luke and julie #julie x luke #luke x julie #juke #palina #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms fanfic #julie and the phantoms fanfiction #jatp fanfic #jatp fanfiction #sunset curve

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between-two-fandoms · 4 years

Text

Who We Used To Be (Ray/Rose/Trevor)

As told by myself and @thesevenumbrellas tag teaming the whump in the 18+ JatP discord. Sev I swear we operate on the same braincell levels, we do be clowning. @bobbywilsonsupremacy let us know what you think of this! I know you and I both hardcore ship Raybse.

Cover was created by @thesevenumbrellas. Please don’t steal it.

This post got long so fair warning.

We wrote this in a discord server over the time span of hours so there’s some mistakes but i’m too lazy to go back and fix it all. Basically we tag teamed on a Raybse Trevor Wilson-centric whump story and can destroy a fandom with a single touch.

You’ll understand once you click the cut.

Don’t Steal Our Writing (but please reblog this to spread it around).

Trauma Time.

major whump warning

(Ren) Okay so if we're gonna be starting at 90's ot3 my children ray/bobby/Rose know that Ray is a panic bi and loves both of these humans very much with his whole ass heart.

(Ren) He takes pictures of his girlfriend and boyfriend while they’re on dates because he wants to capture the moments he was happy the most. Bobby always shed away from the camera burying his face in Rose's shoulder or leaning in for a kiss. Anyways as time goes by Ray notices Bobby's change in behavior. From being his go-happy-trauma boyf to being caught up in the music scene, often out at all hours to parties and label meetings only to come to to sleep on the couch, not even sharing the bed like he used to. It reminds Ray of the time when Bobby was grieving his boys. Ray hates it, but he loves bobby so he pushes his feelings aside to try and arrange more dates for the three of them to go on together.

(Sev) Ray waking up to only Rose in the bed and not Bobby, and it feels too cold in bed without him. So he'll try to call him, because it's 3am and he's supposed to be home and he's not. And Ray remembers what happened to Bobby's bandmates, and he can't admit it out loud but he's worried. Because what if that happens to Bobby? He knows it was a freak accident! What are the odds of it happening again?? But he can't shake that feeling when Bobby doesn't come home at night and Ray stays up all night worrying. Anyway he tries to call Bobby and Bobby doesn't answer. He'll leave loads of voicemails, trying not to be pushy because he knows Bobby doesn't respond well to that. But he's worried. He'll say "hey please call me when you get this." and then ten minutes later try again "hey just text me that you're safe okay?" He can't sleep because Bobby still isn't home. It's 5am. He has to go to work in two hours. Rose keeps telling him to go to bed but he can't.[2:58 PM]Bobby finally texts back. "I'm okay! Was playing with some friends, the gig went over time and then we went to party." Ray wants to be angry because seriously? No phone calls because he was at a party? But he knows that'll just push Bobby away more!

(Ren) And so Ray has all of these festering emotions that boil down to worry and concern at the core but he's just so scared hes losing Bobby cause he never really had his own family to begin with and then one day when Ray comes home early from a photoshoot he can hear Bobby and Rose fighting over Bobby signing the contract that says he wrote Luke's songs but Ray just hears yelling before he even opens the door with his name thrown into the mix and then he gets even more scared because what if he loses Rose and Bobby? if he lost both of them he'd be destroyed. So he doesnt knock. He doesnt go home. Instead he walks around the city until he was supposed to go home originally and he opens the door and there's a sort of eerie silence in the air.

(Sev) Trevor’s unable to shake the feeling that something terrible will happen to Rose and Ray because he's with them. His entire family were killed in 1 night because he wasn't there with them. So at first he's clingy as fuck to Rose and Ray because what if something bad happens when he's not there? What if what if what if... But as time goes on the thinking flips. Maybe it's the music industry that's the problem. It's these weird connections in his head of if he's too successful, bad things might happen. But he can't quit music like that, he can't give up on Luke's dream. He owes his boys to become successful. So instead he distances himself from Rose and Ray. That way they won't be caught up in whatever bad thing is going to happen to him. He distances himself and he waits for it all to drop. He waits for the universe to punish him again.

(Ren) And the universe punishes Bobby when the tension between him and Rose tightens so much he knows there's no going back from it but he's not admitting to stealing the songs because he didn't. He helped Luke write all of the songs more than Alex and Reggie ever did, staying up late with Luke after fights with his mom and Bobby didn’t want Luke to be alone so yeah, he wrote the songs. Maybe not as much as he claimed but he sure as hell made sure his brother wasn’t alone so that counted for something right? And it did. Until Rose kicks him out of bed because she's pissed he'd even consider stealing music and he cant tell Ray because of the NDA the label got him to sign at a party when he was drunk and the only reason Rose knows about it is because she was there when he signed the damn thing and so Bobby pulls away from Ray because isnt it going to be easier in the long run? If he doesn’t attach himself to Ray who'll just get angry at him like Rose did?

(Sev) It's the guilt that grows inside of him every passing day. They're my songs too he tells himself over and over again. But during the dark nights, three glasses of whisky in when the world is getting hazy... even he can't believe the lies he tells himself. He fucked up Sunset Curve. He fucked up his friends' memories. And now he fucked up the only good thing he'd ever had. Ray texts him nonstop. He doesn't understand why Rose kicked Bobby out and he doesn't understand why Bobby listened. Bobby can't take Ray away from Rose. He's fucked up and a terrible person, but even he can't do that. He doesn't give Ray his new address. He refuses to meet up even for Ray to give him his stuff back. All Bobby can do is hold onto Ray's sweatshirt he stole away and a bottle of perfume the same brand Rose always wears. He cradles these things in his arms and cries.

(Ren) And that's the last he sees of Ray for all of 5 years, 20yr old puppy-dog eyed loving precious ray who Bobby would run to the second Rose says its okay. But rose never does. And then Bobby meets a cute blonde and six months later the barista shows up on his doorstep shoving Carrie into his arms calling her a bastard child. Carrie is not a bastard child Carrie is his and he loves her the second he sets eyes on her and so Bobby turns into Trevor when the new year rolls around and he starts his own album. It doesn’t do as well as Luke's his first album did but it was his. And then one day Trevor signs Carrie up for dance because Trisha from first grade made fun of her for not being able to do the splits and on the way out of the dance studio Trevor bumps into Ray, a terrified looking girl clutched to his leg. Carrie doesn't miss a beat. "Hi! I'm Carrie let's be friends!" and Carrie drags Ray's daughter off and Trevor shifts awkwardly and is suddenly 17 again but Ray's eyes still twinkle like the did when they were kids and he's still wearing eyeliner so Trevor almost missed it when a flicker of recognition crosses Ray’s face and a smile quirks at the corners of his lips and he says, "hi im Ray, thats my daughter Julie. Wanna go out for a drink?" With that same mischievous glint in his eye that made Bobby fall in love with him in the first place.

(Sev) Trevor almost stops breathing. He should say no. He knows he should say no. He's an awful person. He doesn't deserve someone like Ray. He never deserved either of them. He knows that. But can't force himself to say no. Maybe it's the twinkle in Ray's eyes. Maybe it's the soul crushing loneliness he's felt ever since he left them. Or maybe it's the way Carrie and Julie are giggling in the corner like they've known each other all their lives. He says yes. The drink ends up at a family friendly restaurant with both the girls in tow.

(Ren) Rose shows up because Ray the asshole apparently texted her while he was in the car saying he met one of Julie's friend's parents and wanted to go out on a date (keeping things pg ofc) aklsdf. And when Rose does show up Trevor sees how... sick she looks. How much paler she looked than she did all those years ago how - he still knew he loved her even if she still decided she hated him.

(Sev) The mood drops quickly. Trevor wants to ask about Rose, but not in front of the kids. Ray wants to ask about their past, but not in front of the kids. Rose... Rose who holds all the answers... doesn't know where to start first. She had never regretted not telling Ray the truth. She never wanted to change Ray's perception of Bobby like that. Ray who looked at their boyfriend as if he'd hung the moon. Ray who stayed up worrying all night until Bobby came home. Ray who held Bobby through countless nightmares... But that makes the truth staring them in the face so much harder. Because she never gave Ray the choice. She realized that a few years too late after she catches Ray staring at old pictures of Bobby in their photo albums. She'd made the choice for him. And then there's Trevor... still beautiful, staring at her with so much concern her heart breaks all over again.

(Ren) The tension doesn't fly over Carrie's head like he hoped it would, she talks to Julie about My Little Pony and Pokemon and High School Musical and their mutual hatred for Trisha from school but Carrie's hand never lets go of his and he finally plucks up the courage and stretches his arm out and says "we're vegetarian for the most part, hope that's okay." And a smile quirks at the corner of her lips and she asks "for the most part?" and Trevor nods and Carrie pipes up from her seat saying "daddy hates hot dogs,” in that blatant fact kind of way kids say things without realizing how problematic it could be. It wasn’t her fault though, Trevor has yet to tell her about her uncles, about how he was in a band, about how they were going to be legends.

(Sev) Rose and Ray both freeze at Carrie's voice. He doesn't know if the girls notice, because he's too busy trying to fight back the panic in his throat. It's been a long time since anyone had brought up ... what happened. It's easy to pretend it didn't happen when his name is Trevor and no one knows him. But these two people know him. They know him more than anyone else ever has. Even the boys. The truth hits him hard at that moment. A truth he'd been avoiding for almost two decades. Ray and Rose know him better than even he knew himself. Maybe that was why Rose had been so furious with him, or why Ray continued to chase after him even months after he moved out. Trevor hides the building panic and sudden realization with a smile. "What an I say," he said as causally as he can. "I'm a picky eater." A few hours later they end up back at the Molina's house. Bobby has no idea how it happened. -No, Trevor has no idea how it happened, he scolds himself. He's Trevor. He has to be Trevor. Trevor got him this far, Trevor made the difficult choices. Bobby was the one who got his friends kill and destroyed the best relationship he ever had. Still, it becomes harder and harder to remind himself of that. To stop himself from slipping into the comfortable shoes of Bobby, boyfriend of Ray and Rose as if the past 17 years had never happened. He finds himself on their sofa, a sofa that brings back memories both good and bad... he finds himself in a familiar home, his old studio just a short walk away, his ex's giggling in the kitchen as they make his coffee the way he's always liked it without asking for a reminder.

(Ren) Trevor can remember the day he stopped drinking the coffee Ray made for him, the morning after his first fight with Rose, when he wakes up cold because Rose basically cocooned herself around Ray's body, keeping her back turned to him and as much as he wanted to reach out to Ray, to hug him and comfort him and tell him it was all going to be okay... everything was too stuffy and too tense and deciding he just had to leave because he was going to suffocate otherwise.

(Sev) He should leave, just like last time. What was he even doing here? He should take Carrie and- Then Ray's in front of him, pushing a hot cup into is hands. "The girls are playing upstairs," he says. His voice is so calm, so understanding. "We don't have to talk if you don't want to." Trevor almost laughs. Because that's so like Ray. Almost a decade without answers and he's giving Trevor the option to ignore it all. To pretend like nothing ever happened. But he can't be that selfish again. So he shakes his head. "I'd... like to talk to you... to both of you."

(Ren) And then suddenly rose is eyeing him sus but he's been putting this off for to long and honestly fuck his label because they screwed him over one too many times for him to still even consider their relationship anything other than employee-client1[4:06 PM]and so Trevor takes a sip of Ray's coffee holy shit how did go so long without it?! and he explains it. he explains everything.

(Sev) Ray doesn't speak as Trevor explains. He never interrupts or even look surprised. His face is completely unreadable. He doesn't move until Trevor's done. And then once he is, he only stands up to start pacing the room. Trevor's oddly reminded of Alex as he does so, and the memory is enough to make him flinch. "This... this is what you two have been hiding from me for so long?" he asked, voice brittle. "This is... this is what cost us... I mean..." But he can't finish. Ray just shakes his head, back to both Rose and Trevor.

(Ren) Suddenly he's seventeen again. Seventeen and a mess in Ray's arms burying his face into the man's chest finally feeling the weight of the world lift off of his shoulders and suddenly Rose is hugging him from behind, her too-skiny bone arms snaking around his chest and hugging him tightly threatening to never let him go saying "amour," and pressing a kiss to the back of his head, "amour we never stopped loving you."

(Sev)It's like no time has passed by the time he's done crying his eyes out. They're all huddled on a sofa that was always too small for three. Trevor's in the middle, clutching at them both as if they're going to disappear on him. Ray sits with his legs underneath them, his arms pulling the both of them into his chest. And then there's Rose, suddenly so much more delicate than Trevor remembers. She sits half on his lap, curled into them, her fingers knotted in his hair. "I can't believe you two kept this from me," Ray whispers. There's no anger. He doesn't think Ray's ever been capable of being angry. "I'm sorry," Trevor whispers, throat raw from tears. Ray answers with a firm kiss to his temple. "We wasted so much time..."

(Ren) Trevor just lays between them in their bed, nothing sexual and nothing tense it’s just them being together and Rose playing with his now-long hair, braiding it right down the middle despite it being too long for others to braid. Her fingers feel nice as they tug at his roots, familiar and a sense of calm washes over him. He lets ray fop on top of him like they used to, burying his head in his chest just listening to his heart beat, his steady constant breathing because Ray used to be afraid one day he'd wake up and Bobby would be dead too. Rose humming lightly, soft lullabies that chased away dark thoughts and Trevor just finds it so comforting, a feeling of home he hasn't had since the day he left and so he wraps his arms around Rose and Ray tight, promising himself he won't screw up his second time around.

(Sev) It's a few hours later when he speaks again. The girls are asleep in Julie's room (delighted at their surprise sleepover.) Ray's almost nodded off, head resting against Trevor's chest. But Rose is wide awake. She's laid out, tangled between them, eyes focused on something far away. He can see it more clearly now. The tremble in her hands, the way she's so still, the circles around her eyes. He takes her hand in his. "What is it?"

(Ren) And Trevor wants it to be a prank, he wants the sinking feeling in his gut twisting around his heart, the same feeling he had the morning of Sunset Curve's Orpheum performance coiling up his spine to go away. He wants everything to be okay, that he told the truth, that he was forgiven, that the universe was finally on his side for once but of course it's not because when has it ever been. Rose's fingers run lightly over his knuckles and Ray wraps his arm around him from behind, his hands resting against Trevor's chest, something solid for him to focus on and as a tear starts to roll down Rose's cheek he reaches up to brush it away, running his hand through her hair only to pull out a clump as he pulled away but he couldn't run when his instincts to run kick in like they always used to do when situations turned emotional, bury it in his mind and lock up his worries like he always did but this wasn't going to be something he could run from.

(Sev) Life is not the fantasy or a fairy tale. There are no happy endings, only happy moments. He'd like to say they picked up right where they left off, Rose lived until a ripe old age, and they never fought again. But he'd be lying. It was hard to fold their lives back into place again, especially with Carrie and Julie. To just pick up after their seventeen year old selves was an impossible dream. But they could do breakfast. And breakfast became dinner. Dinner became one date which became two which became many. It took trouble and care, but they slotted themselves back into each other's lives again. There were lunch dates, and movie nights. There were late night wine dates and early morning coffee dates. They found their happy moments. A decade of separation had smoothed out the rough edges. If Trevor stormed out after a harsh argument, he'd return the next day with flowers and apologies. If Rose snapped and lost her temper, she'd take herself off for a walk to cool down. If Ray was bothered by something, he'd speak up instead of pushing it all down. They found their happy moments. And when 1 month became 1 year, they celebrated with moving boxes and a new, bigger couch. When 1 year became 2, they celebrated with promise rings and whispers of a better future between light kisses. 3 years became 4, became 5, and so on... They found their happy moments. But life is not a fantasy or a fairy tale. Their story ends in a hospital. Rose dies with both her husbands at her side, with both her daughters and son clutching on her hands. She dies with a smile on her face, knowing she is not leaving them to suffer alone. Ray and Trevor grieve together.

(Ren) And this time the girls are the ones who get into the fight but Trevor and Ray are there for Julie and Carrie no matter what they're fighting over carrie told julie she liked flynn but julie said flynn was hers first and doesnt understand how she can feel squishy love for two people. And this time the girls are the ones who get into the fight but Trevor and Ray are there for Julie and Carrie no matter what they're fighting over carrie told julie she liked flynn but julie said flynn was hers first and doesnt understand how she can feel squishy love for two people. They stick to their daughters through the worst of it but they don’t let the girl’s fighting rip into them too. It’s not what Rose would’ve wanted for them, it’s not what she would’ve wanted for Julie or Carrie either.

(Sev) And when Julie plays with her ghost band, it's much earlier that Trevor recognizes who she's playing with.

(Ren) Luke’s mad at first, ofc he is but after everything is explained and out in the open Trevor finds himself at home in a building that never felt like home despite the fact he grew up in it.

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destiel-love-forever · 5 years

Text

What a Jerk

It’s Valentine’s Day. For Castiel & Dean, that means war.

Read below or on AO3: HERE

"What a jerk," Castiel grumbles, closing the door as the delivery man leaves.

"Who?" Benny asks from his spot on the couch a few feet away. He turns to look at Castiel, more words about to come out. Then he sees the giant bouquet of flowers in Castiel's hands and grins. "Oh. Dean."

"Stop smiling. He's an asshole." Castiel storms off to the kitchen. Since his penthouse apartment is an open-floor plan, though, he doesn't escape Benny. He just gets his bitch face from a new angle.

"Yes," Benny says sarcastically. "What an asshole for buying you flowers."

Castiel huffs as he searches for a stupid vase for the stupid flowers. "I told him not to do this."

"Yeah, bad idea. Telling Dean not to do something is pretty much the equivalent of challenging him to a duel."

There's a dusty vase beneath the sink. Castiel takes it out and fills it with water, not bothering to clean it first. When it's filled enough for the flowers to survive - because Castiel isn't a monster, he's not going to purposely kill beautiful flowers - he stuffs the bouquet into the vase.

"There." He sets the vase on his kitchen island and breathes a sigh of relief. "At least it's over now. Right?"

Benny snorts. "Dude, it's 8 AM. There's no way that's all he has planned for the day."

"You work for me, ya know," Castiel says in a voice that's supposed to be threatening but isn't. "You have to take my side."

"I'm your bodyguard. I keep you safe from bullets and kidnappers. Not overbearing lovers."

Castiel sighs in frustration. He pulls out his phone and very aggressively types in Dean Winchester's number.

Dean answers almost instantly. Clearly, he had been waiting for this call.

"Hey, C-"

"This stupid romantic nonsense is a waste of money and I swear Dean Winchester if you get me any more presents today I'm going to break up with your stupid ass!"

"So you got the flowers," Dean says with a smile in his voice. "Good. You should get ready for work, my love. Don't want to be late."

"Don't ignore me, Dean! You promised. You promised not to do this!"

"No. You ordered me not to do this. I never agreed."

"Dean-"

"Have a nice day, babe. I'm sure I'll be hearing from you soon."

"Dean!"

"Oh, and Cas?"

Castiel grits his teeth, fuming. "What?"

"Happy Valentine's Day."

Castiel growls - yes, growls - and hangs up. He throws his hands in the air and turns to Benny. "What a jerk!"

----

When Castiel stops at his favorite coffee shop for his usual morning Americano with cinnamon, the barista already has his order ready. It has a message written on it in Dean's hand writing, black sharpie scrawling its way across the disposable cup.

You are so brew tiful. I love you like I love my coffee - inside me (;

Castiel rolls his eyes. "What a jerk."

"Sorry?" the barista says in confusion.

"He's a jerk." Castiel grabs a disposable cup from the stack beside the register. He pops the top off the one Dean wrote on and pours his coffee into the fresh, non-Valentine cup. Then he tosses the graffitied cup and nods at the barista. "Have a good one."

"Uh… yeah." The barista watches him go, looking crestfallen. Clearly she had found it romantic. Disgusting. "You too."

----

Another bouquet of flowers is waiting for Castiel when he enters his private office. He glares at it from the doorway for a long moment before huffing in annoyance, going over and grabbing the damn thing. Still dressed in his trench coat, still with his briefcase in his left hand, Castiel walks down to the bull-pen and lifts the vase in the air.

"Who fucked up today and needs a Valentine's Day present for their significant other?" he yells, his anger making most of his employees shiver or tense up.

It takes a second but then a woman in the back tentatively raises her hand. Charlie. She's dating Dorothy from accounting. They're a cute couple.

"They're yours," he announces, thrusting them out in the air to silently tell her to come get them.

Blushing, she makes her way to Castiel. She mumbles something about not forgetting but running out of time this morning. Castiel couldn't care less whether Charlie forgot or not. He just doesn't want to stare at the damn flowers all day.

Once they're out of his hands, Castiel waves a hand in the air and says, "As you were."

Benny is smirking when Castiel gets back to his office.

"What's so funny?" Castiel asks in a voice that's supposed to be threatening but just makes Benny's lips lift higher. "What?"

"I'm assuming you didn't see the box of chocolates."

Castiel parts his lips, about to ask what Benny means, when he sees a heart-shaped box beside where the flowers had been. He deflates. Goes over to his chair. Slumps down. Sighs dramatically. Then he takes the box and reads the attached note.

Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get. - damn glad I got you, babe ♡

"What a jerk," Castiel growls at the box. He rips the lid off and snatches a piece of chocolate before pushing it toward Benny. "Stop fucking smiling and eat. And don't tell him I ate any of it. That asshole knows I can't resist chocolate so you have to lie."

"Sure thing boss," Benny says with a wink. "Sure thing."

----

"Are you Castiel?" a man dressed in a cupid costume asks.

Castiel shakes his head. "Nope."

Unfortunately, he's in the breakroom at work and his employees think this whole battle between Dean and him is hilarious. Balthazar says, "He's lying" at the same time Chuck says, "He's Castiel."

Castiel decides he's going to fire them both.

The cupid smirks and turns to Castiel. Castiel puts a hand up in protest. "Whatever it is, I don't want-"

"Lord Almighty,

I feel my temperature rising

Higher higher

It's burning through to my soul

Boy, boy, boy,

You gonna set me on fire

My brain is flaming

I don't know which way to go

Your kisses lift me higher

Like the sweet song of a choir

You light my morning sky

With burning love"

"Nope," Castiel mumbles under his breath, grabbing his lunch and heading out the door. "Nope, nope, nope."

The damn telegram follows him. Everyone in the office stares, their jaws dropped open as the goddamn CEO is followed around by a glittery man dressed as cupid singing an Elvis song. Castiel isn't even embarrassed. He's just pissed.

Castiel enters his office and shoots a glare at Benny who had conveniently been gone to the bathroom when this all went down but is now back at his rightful place by Castiel's side. "Make him leave."

"It's coming closer

The flames are now lickin' my body

Please won't you help me-"

"Why? He isn't a threat."

"He has a weapon!"

"It's a plastic bow, boss."

"And my chest is a-heaving

Lord Almighty

I'm burning a hole where I lay."

"I own this goddamn building and I'm telling you, head of my security, to kick him out!"

Benny gives him a wry smile. "I'll get right on it, boss. Highest priority."

"Cause your kisses lift me higher

Like the sweet song of a choir-"

"You're fired."

"Oh, well, in that case I suppose he'll get to stay."

"Ah, ah, burning love

I'm just a hunk, a hunk of burning love."

Castiel grabs his office phone and presses 7, gritting his teeth. With every ring that passes, his rage boils. He's a breath away from exploding.

"Singer's Auto, this is Dean."

Castiel slams a finger down on speaker phone and turns to glare at cupid as he finishes the damn song.

"Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love

Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love

Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love."

Finally, it's over. Cupid winks at him before leaving. Benny smirks. Dean - the jerk that he is - is laughing hysterically on the other line.

"I hate you," Castiel states very matter-of-factly.

"Oh come on!" Dean snorts a laugh. "It's Elvis! You love Elvis!"

"Not anymore! Congratulations, Winchester. You have officially ruined Elvis for me."

Dean laughs harder. "God, I love you babe."

"Gaaaah, no!" Castiel hangs up the call before Dean can use his mystical powers to sweet talk Castiel into forgiving him. It ain't happening.

Castiel bangs his forehead against his desk a few times before deflating against it. "What a jerk."

----

Castiel walks into the first jewelry store he comes across. He storms past all of the stupid Valentine's decorations and up to a young man in a sharp suit who is smiling far too wide if you ask Castiel's opinion. Castiel smacks the palm of his hand on the glass display in front of the man and growls, "I need a goddamn engagement ring."

----

A ring box heavy in his pocket, Castiel stands outside Dean's small two-bedroom house. The yellow paint is peeling back in places, revealing the blue beneath. They come from two completely different worlds. Dean, the eldest son who sacrificed everything he had to raise his baby brother, dropping out of high school, working two jobs, scraping his father off whatever bar floor or sidewalk he ended up on most nights. Castiel, the eldest son who had the world handed to him, private prep school, undergrad at an Ivy league, two master degrees, no student loan debt, a $100,000 no-strings gift from his father to start up his own company.

Dean lives in a house that was foreclosed and rotting on the inside. He’s owned it for three years now. The floors and roof have been replaced. The staircase rebuilt. The walls repainted. The kitchen remodeled. The bathroom gutted. All Dean’s doing since he couldn’t afford to hire contractors.

Castiel lives in a penthouse apartment in a building that’s only seven years old. He got to pick in a catalogue what model of every room he preferred. Professionals molded his home into exactly what he wanted it to be in two weeks, handing it to him furnished and beautiful.

Dean works 60 hour weeks at his uncle’s auto shop, always smelling of oil and sweat. He drinks Jack Daniels. Listens to classic rock. Wears stained jeans and cotton shirts so worn they have holes in the collars and become see-through in certain lighting.

Castiel works 80 hour weeks, but only 30 of them are spent in the office, the rest spent on his phone or at his home so he can lounge on his couch and peruse documents without worrying about employees bothering him. He’s currently working through a bottle of 1926 Macallan. He listens to classical music, as well as plays it himself on his own grand piano that overlooks the city. Wears tailored Brioni suits and silk ties to work, settling for Gucci denim pants and cashmere sweaters when he's casual.

They should have never even met. Castiel would never take his car to a low-grade dealership like Singers. Never. You just don’t do that. Castiel was sure they wouldn’t even know what to do with a custom built Tesla like his. Yet, there Castiel was, broken down outside of the city with a migraine the size of Texas and stubborn impatience that made waiting for the professionals from the dealership that would take 3 hours a choice he wasn’t willing to make. So, he typed in auto shops on google and picked the one nearest to him.

Singers Auto.

Dean had showed up all southern drawl and warm smiles. Flirted right past Castiel’s foul mood. Stroked the hood of his Tesla like it was a cherished pet. Spoke to Castiel confidently about his knowledge on the vehicle. He offered to tow it into the city for Castiel if Castiel wanted but assured Castiel that if he chose to let Dean bring it to Singer's Auto, Dean would be able to take care of it.

“Easy fix,” Dean had said. “In and out. Twenty minutes.”

Castiel had agreed. It was completely out of character but he couldn’t help himself. He wanted more time with the mechanic.

He left that day with a fixed car and Dean Winchester’s number.

They never once brought up the salary gap between them. Some nights they’d crash at Castiel’s. Some nights at Dean’s. They’d go to five-star restaurants and gorge on filet mignon and lobster. They’d go to McDonalds and demolish burgers and chocolate milkshakes. Neither of them so much as blink.

Castiel smiles to himself as he looks at the house again. Where will they live? Castiel could care less, if he’s being honest. He’ll move here if Dean wants. He can deal with the furnace that needs to be kicked every few days as a reminder to work again. He can deal with the pipes that always freeze in the winter. He can deal with the way the fifth step creaks because Dean messed up when building the staircase. As long as he has Dean Winchester, he has everything.

“The hell you doin’ out here?” Dean yells from the front porch, snapping Castiel from his thoughts.

The ring box in his pocket grows hot in anticipation.

“It’s Valentine’s Day!” Castiel yells back, casually walking across the street from where he parked. “I figured if you’re going to insist on celebrating the idiotic holiday, I might as well win by outdoing you.”

“Oh, really?” Dean huffs a laugh, taking the porch steps two at a time until he’s on the grass of his front lawn. “How do you expect to do that?”

Castiel stops when he’s on the sidewalk, about five or so feet between them. He gives Dean a cocky grin that makes Dean’s smirk fall just an inch. Dean Winchester doesn’t like to lose at things - especially all of these silly competitions they get themselves into.

How long can they go without having sex or masturbating, and who will break first and beg the other to fuck him?

Who can eat the most pie in one sitting?

Which one can buy the best Christmas gift?

Who can win the most tickets at the arcade?

How long can they keep their prank war going, and who will be the one to finally throw in the towel when it goes too far?

Who can scare the other badly enough to make them scream?

Which one of them will win the cheesy romantic award of Valentine’s Day 2020.

Castiel won the 1st, 3rd, and 6th.

Dean won the 2nd and 4th.

Neither have won the prank war bet - it’s still on-going.

But Castiel Novak is going to win this damn Valentine’s Day award. If Dean wants to play this game today, it’s on.

“Cas-”

“Dean Winchester,” Castiel says softly, in a voice sickly sweet and loving. He lowers himself to one knee and reaches into his pocket.

Dean’s eyes flare with rage. “No! Don’t you dare!”

“You’re the love of my life-”

“Stop!”

“I can’t imagine any possible future that doesn’t have you in it-”

“I hate you so much right now,” Dean chokes out, eyes welling up.

Castiel smirks and opens the ring box. “Will you marry me?”

“No,” Dean grumbles with a pouty look on his face. Then he growls low in his throat and shakes his arms like a toddler on the verge of a tantrum. “Fuck - fine! Yes. I’ll marry you.”

Grinning, partly because the love of his life just agreed to marry him but mostly because instead of Dean evening the score Castiel is now 2 points ahead, Castiel pushes to his feet and slips the ring on Dean’s finger. He tugs Dean into his arms and kisses him breathless.

“Proposed to me on Valentine’s Day,” Dean says with an incredulous huff, resting his head on Castiel's shoulder and hugging him. “What a jerk.”

If you enjoyed this, please consider supporting my starving artist bum by donating at my Ko-Fi or becoming a Patron <3 Everything helps!

#fluff #destiel #dean winchester #castiel novak #valentines day #hopeless romantic dean #cas hates valentines day #arguing #this is war #valentines day war #benny #ceo cas #mechanic dean #cute #romantic gestures

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maatryoshkaa · 5 years

Text

young god | chapter 4

serial killer!han jisung au

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue |

word count: 1.8k

warnings: themes of domestic abuse, descriptions of violence, and foul language.

description: jisung keeps getting flashbacks, and he’s determined to do whatever it takes to keep them at bay. tonight, however, he makes one mistake that sends everything spiralling out of control.

watch the trailer here!

04| two roads diverged

A light fog was seeping into the night air when Jisung stepped out of your apartment complex, flinging the empty takeout boxes into the Dumpsters as he staggered past. There were no cars on the street at this hour, the campus having shut it gates an hour or so earlier. He checked his phone. 1:00 A.M. on the dot.

He ducked into an alleyway -- a shortcut -- which was also dim, lined sparsely with flickering street lamps that split his shadow into distorted fragments. In his peripheral vision, it almost looked like someone was following him. Yanking his hood over his head, Jisung began walking faster.

“You’re dead,” he mumbled, eyes darting around as he wove through the alleys. A dull throbbing was beginning to ebb and wane in his head. “You’re dead, you’re dead, you’re supposed to be dead.”

His fist slammed into the brick wall on the last word, entire body slumping forward. The sound of his own heavy breathing seemed to echo in his ears as he screwed his eyes shut, images flashing behind his eyelids. Your smiling face under the veil of moonlight, eyes softened into crescents. Her bled-out, empty one, eyes staring back at him but not seeing. Jisung had thought he could take it -- the hot flashes of memories you seemed to draw out of him without even trying. He’d thought that maybe, he could last one night, that if you were by his side, the nightmares would finally stay at bay. That maybe, if you thought that he was a normal boy, he could convince himself, too.

Feet feeling like they were dragging through cement, he stumbled to the end of the alleyway, which opened up into the clearing of a park. In front of him now was a children’s playground. During the day, it was alight with shrieks of laughter and joy, mothers and fathers chasing their delighted children up and down slides and colourful swing sets. Now, however, it was hollow and barren as a graveyard, cold metal waiting for the new day to bring back its warmth.

On his left lay the Yellow Wood, where two paths of the park diverged into a thicket of sparse forest. Across from the playground, Jisung could see the main street, lined with shops. Their windows were dark now -- if he wasn’t wrong, the latest shop on campus closed at 1 A.M. -- the buzzing of their dim neon signs echoing like sinister whispers down the empty street.

Jisung felt two eyes watching him, the back of his neck prickling, and he turned to see a stray dog, small and scraggly. It had floppy ears and matted fur that might have once been blond -- like a teddy bear that had been through the wash one too many times. Letting out an incredulous laugh, Jisung bent down, shaking fingers reaching to scratch it behind its ears. A breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding escaped his lips. He was okay. He was still in control.

“Why the fuck are you crying? Get the fuck up.”

Jisung’s head snapped in the direction of the voice, squinting through the hazy darkness. He held his breath, and heard muffled crying, the voices growing closer.

“I said, stop crying!”

A sharp slap rang through the night air, and Jisung’s hand froze in the stray dog’s fur. He narrowed his eyes, making out the outlines of two figures by park entrance. It was a man who was speaking -- yelling, really -- his voice slurred, evidently drunk. Cowering in front of him, face buried in her hands, was a smaller woman. The man’s hand shot out again, seizing a fistful of her hair.

“Fuckin’ bitch. You want to leave me? I’d like t’ see you try.” He yanked her head up, sneering. “If you make another sound, I swear I’ll--”

Crunch.

Jisung didn’t register his feet moving across the playground until he felt his fist connect with the man’s jaw, sending him flying back with a surprised squawk. When the man turned his head back, eyes blazing with fury and confusion, one flared nostril was gushing blood.

“What the--who the fuck are you?” The man’s voice was shrill, gruff hands shoving at Jisung’s chest. “Do you want to die?”

Jisung glanced at the girl, whose hands had flown to her mouth in shock. The two looked as if they’d been back from a night out, the girl--a brunette--wearing black heels, a ripped, damaged blouse, and a skirt. The man looked not much older than Jisung -- maybe a senior, it was too dark to tell. Tears shone on the girl’s cheeks, an angry red welt where her boyfriend had hit her blooming across her face. Jisung’s eyes flashed back and forth between her and the man, back to her again, head beginning to spin.

This was all so, so familiar.

“I asked you a question, kid!” The man was still screaming, the stench of alcohol on his hot breath momentarily jarring Jisung out of his thoughts. “Hey, are y’ fucking crazy or sumn’--”

Wrenching himself from the man’s grasp, Jisung snapped his arm back and buried his elbow in his face. Blood seeped through his hoodie as the man gave a roar of pain, crashing to the ground. The girl screamed, and Jisung turned to her. She flinched, and he jerked his head towards the main street. “Get...out of here. Go--go home.”

Her wide eyes flickered from her boyfriend, who was currently groaning on the pavement, to Jisung, and took off running. The sound of her frantic heels clicking grew fainter as Jisung stepped closer to the man, who was scrambling to his feet like a chicken with its head cut off. Sighing, Jisung looked around -- his apartment was still a few blocks away, but making a scene on the main road was practically begging for someone to see. His eyes landed on the Yellow Wood.

Ah. That would do.

Seizing the man by the front of his jacket, which was already wet with dark blood from his shattered nose, Jisung dragged the drunk across the artificial sand, through the playground, and into the forest, stopping only when the glow of the street lamps had disappeared behind them, and slammed him against a tree. The man felt like a bag of wet cement and moved like one, too -- limbs sluggish and waterlogged with too much alcohol. Jisung shook his head, a humourless laugh bubbling in his throat. Some people almost seemed to be looking for death.

“Wha--whaddaya think you’re doing? Who--you can’t--”

Jisung picked up a rock from the base of the tree, fingers absently rubbing its cool, jagged surface. It was heavy, with one blunt side. His head was beginning to pound again, cold sweat beading on his forehead as he studied the man. Fear was scrawled all over his features, fingers scrabbling against the tree as he tried -- hopelessly -- to crawl away.

“H-hey! Calm down! I w-won’ do it again, promise -- j-jus’ lemme--”

“You have his eyes,” Jisung breathed, and drove the rock down. They were all he could see -- those eyes, the same ones from thirteen years ago, burning into his own, soaking his vision with red, red, red, as his fist came down again, and again, and again. His own face felt wet, the metallic tang of someone else’s blood trickling through his lips as it spurted from the dying man’s gaping mouth. The screams had turned to gurgles, the hard skull he was striking was beginning to cave in, the jerking of the man’s body beneath him subsiding into feeble twitches instead. And yet the blood in Jisung’s ears was still roaring, and his head was still splitting apart, a thousand voices hissing in his mind.

You killed her. You killed her. You. Killed. Her.

────────

Yang Jeongin wiped away the sweat dripping into his eyes, slapping his face lightly to stay awake as he pedalled through the alleyways, a list of deliveries rustling in his hand. He had just dropped off his last parcel. Earlier today, he’d gotten hired for deliveries at another store -- this one specialized in late-night shipments, with his latest one running until 1 in the morning. It was probably closer to 2 A.M. now.

Jeongin stifled a yawn. He’d been up since 5 in the morning, and, though he was used to working long hours, he had to admit that this first day was a little hard. Near the end of his shift, his mind had begun to wander to his one-bedroom apartment -- sure, it was small and rundown, and the AC was broken beyond repair, but it was still home. He thought of the warm herbal tea he would drink before crashing for the night. He thought of the stray dog -- it was small and scraggly, and looked more like a worn-out teddy bear -- that often slept outside his window, and smiled, pedalling faster.

His hand reached into his back pocket and pressed the Record button on his Walkman, straightening his earbuds before speaking.

“I.N. here!” He cleared his throat, voice a little hoarse and out of breath from all the biking he’d done. “It is currently...2:04 A.M.! It’s my first late-night delivery -- or is it early-morning? Anyways, it’s exciting, huh? The whole campus seems to be sleeping; no one’s out on these streets at this hour. It feels pretty cool, like I’m carrying out a secret mission or something.

“Anyways. Why did I take up another job? Well, today Hyunjin -- he’s the barista, owner, really, of Glow Cafe -- asked me why I didn’t apply for, you know, a driver’s license or something. At first, I thought, well, there’s no point -- I can’t afford a car, anyways. But --” he let out a long sigh, and laughed. “I’ve decided that it’s worth a try, right?

“I want to pay off my student loans soon. Maybe fix my bike up. It’ll be hard at first, but nothing Yang Jeongin can’t take! Me and my bike, we’re unstoppable.”

He turned onto the main road, cutting into the children’s playground across the storefronts. He knew Miroh Heights like the back of his own hand -- every nook and cranny, hidden alleyways and shortcuts -- and the trail that ran through Yellow Wood led almost straight to his neighbourhood. The leaves and fallen tree branches rustled and snapped beneath the wheels of his bicycle as Jeongin hummed lightly.

Not too far into the Wood, though, an odd sound began to prick at his ears. Was that...breathing? Or just the wind? He looked around, and, as his eyes adjusted in the darkness, he saw the vague shape of...a boy? The figure had his back turned to Jeongin, and was trembling -- as if an electric current was running through him.

Jeongin skidded to a stop and hopped off his bike, pulling out an earbud. “Hello? Is everything okay over there?”

Silence.

The boy had his hood up, and seemed to be holding something heavy in one hand. Jeongin stepped closer, and realised with a start that there was another man -- was it a man? -- lying at his feet.

“U-um. Is he--do you need help? I can call an ambulance. What hap--”

Without warning, the boy swung around and slammed a rock straight into Jeongin’s head.

#stray kids #han jisung #stray kids imagines #stray kids au #han jisung au #han jisung imagines #skz #yang jeongin #i.n. stray kids #stray kids angst #han jisung angst #stray kids yandere #han jisung yandere #serial killer!AU #stray kids fic #stray kids series

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thewinedarksea · 5 years

Text

the asked-for coffee shop au.

tw: for the ink mage, who is himself a warning; mild abuse??; overly complicated starbucks orders; the girl, who is little knife, who is also a warning in her own right. my point is they’re all kind of awful, even in the pastel-y iteration of a coffee shop.

“Cinnamon shortbread latte. Three shots of espresso, raspberry whipped cream. Add some chocolate syrup, too, I don’t care how much. Venti.”

The voice is cool and flatly annoyed, rattling off the order with the air of someone who has done it a hundred times before and will do it a hundred times again, but they’d better not have to within the next three seconds or someone’s getting fired.

Not that they’ll have to. The girl writes down the order, accepts the handful of crumpled dollar bills passed wordlessly over the counter, and slides the cup down to the barista. She doesn’t look up, and the customer leaves without speaking again. In her peripheral she watches the long edge of their coat whip across the tiled floor, black and spotted with dust, until it vanishes from her sight, and then goes back to counting down in her head until the end of her shift.

————————

“Caramel macchiato. Almond milk, three shots of espresso, a pump of vanilla syrup. Venti.”

Two days later; same voice, same level annoyance. Same unnecessarily complicated order. It’s interesting enough that the girl deigns to glance up, and comes face to face with one of the prettiest men she’s ever seen: sharp cheekbones and large, dark eyes, framed by sweeping lashes. His hair is gathered into a messy bun, and red ink marks the left side of his face, stretching from the corner of his eye to just above his jaw. There’s a University-issue lanyard dangling around his neck.

He fishes a wad of dollar bills from one of the pockets of his coat; his fingers are long and slender, ink-smudged as the rest of him and cold where they brush against her skin. She takes them. Rings him up. Slides the cup down the counter with a flick of her wrist.

She spends the next few customers stealing glances in his direction as she writes down orders, watching the irritated way his fingers drum across the counter, the faint sneer of disdain as he plucks his drink from her coworker’s hand and stalks off to get a straw.

He sits in one of their corner booths and upends his bag onto the table. Papers fly in a snowstorm across the laminated surface.

Interesting. That’s what he is. The girl likes interesting—it helps stave off the boredom.

————————

His title, as far as she can find after a few hours spent googling ‘ink-covered asshole with no manners,’ is the Ink Mage, and he works in the University’s Theoretical Spellwork department. Some kind of prodigy in his field, concentrating in spell creation and sustainment, with the occasional foray into void studies and runes.

He has a .5 on ratemyprofessor—“for excessive hotness,” reads the sole non-zero rating. “at least you’ll be able to admire his cheekbones as he drives you down the path of suicide.”

Their shop does a steady enough business in University students coming in for caffeinated courage and to have a quiet place to cry for finals; the girl hasn’t seen any in a while, and she supposes now she knows why. That’s one mystery she didn’t care about solved, then.

Idly, she clicks through a few of his published articles, gets distracted by the flame wars he ignites in the comments, and then, bored, wanders off to stare at a wall and not do her chemistry homework.

————————

“Iced caffè americano. One espresso shot. Venti.”

“Vanilla latte. Soy milk, iced, two pumps of chocolate syrup. Venti.”

————————

They fall into a routine. The Ink Mage comes in Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, rattles off a complicated order, and retreats to the corner booth and his piles upon piles of paper where he stays for several hours, scribbling and downing coffee and occasionally swearing violently.

After the fifth visit, she starts bringing his coffee to the booth after he orders it. After the tenth, she starts bringing refills every three hours, and a collection of napkins for him to write on because her manager complains when he starts writing on the walls and her manager’s voice is very, very irking. After the twentieth she settles into the booth across him during her break—she has to shift a stack of essays, all marked with red ink and scorched around the edges—and waits to see what he’ll do.

He ignores her for the entire thirty minutes, and then tells her to bring him a cake pop when she gets up to leave.

————————

Half the time the store can only afford to have one staff member working the counter, which means the girl ends up making a lot of the Ink Mage’s drinks. It’s a lesson in multitasking, and also the ingredients they have stashed in the various drawers and cubby holes.

The first time she fucks up his order he dumps the entire cup over her head. She has to make him a new one, free of charge, and then clean up the spill on the floor, iced mocha dripping down her neck all the while. When her manager yells at her later it’s all she can do to keep from rolling her eyes, or punching her, or setting the store on fire. She settles for staring blankly until she’s dismissed.

Patience. She’s learning it.

————————

“Java chip frappuccino. Five shots of espresso. Do you have a size larger than a venti? Forget it. Just double the order, both ventis. Extra whipped cream. I don’t care how much caramel syrup you add just add some.”

The Ink Mage looks harried: there’s five pens stuck in his bun, two with the caps off, and ink splatters his cheeks and trails down the curve of his neck in a ribbon of black. He’s thinner, too, the planes of his face even more pronounced than usual, and against the pallor of his skin the bruises around his eyes stand out like blood on snow.

Silently, the girl reaches for the cups.

————————

“My students are a bunch of soft, blubbering idiots who couldn’t tell the difference between a summoning rune and a summoner rune if I carved it into their foreheads.”

The girl makes a noise in the back of her throat, less sympathy than acknowledgement, and edges the blueberry scone she’d brought him a bit closer. The Ink Mage ignores it. Honestly, he may not even see it; he’s calmed somewhat with his double order and the refills she’s brought since then, but his eyes are still dark-rimmed, and another pen has made its way into the nest of his hair. Finals, it seems, take their toll even on him.

“No,” the Ink Mage continues, “No, I refuse to handhold a bunch of children through the finer parts of basic runal spellwork and grade their subpar garbage as if it means something, as if they will amount to anything more in their worthless, pathetic lives than to be the absolute dregs of human innovation. Honestly. If these little brats want me to read their drivel the least they could do is type in an interesting font.”

With deliberate care he gathers the entire stack of essays before him and, getting up, tips them into the trash can.

“There,” he says. “Problem solved.” Then he sits back down and picks up the scone. Her scone.

Warmth bubbles in the girl’s stomach and fizzes through her bloodstream. Not happiness, exactly, but maybe satisfaction. Contentment. Knowledge of a job well done.

————————

The days tick past. The register dings, dings again. The girl’s never bored on shift, now; if she’s not seeing the Ink Mage, she’s counting down to his visits, measuring the time in the bland orders and blander customers that fill the time in between.

On her breaks she comes to share the booth with him, bringing pastries and refills of whatever confection he’s ordered that day. Equations and theories and critiques of others’ works radiate out from him as he sits, a gangly black spider in the center of his web. He has no laptop (“useless technological drivel. It can be hacked”) and no pencils (“only idiots and Professor Miller need to erase their work”), and so his work is written on paper or dashed onto napkins in his tiny, cramped scrawl, ink weeping across it all.

The first time she undresses to find ink staining her own arms, she stares at the shower for thirty minutes before she can bear to step beneath the cold spray of water and wash it away.

————————

“Chai tea latte. No foam, skim milk, three pumps of caramel sauce. Venti.”

“Iced coffee. Ten pumps vanilla, five pumps hazelnut, eight pumps caramel, a splash of soy, light ice, double-blended. Venti."

————————

“Latte. Nonfat, two percent foam, three espresso shots, five pumps mocha,” the Ink Mage says on his fiftieth visit, and then, “What do you know about theoretical spellwork?”

She blinks at him. The back of her mind is still scrambling to figure out what the fuck ‘two percent foam’ means and how to make it a reality. “It’s theoretical,” she says after a stretching pause.

“Mm.”

He goes to sit at his usual booth. It feels like she’s failed, and her hands shake so badly she has to remake his drink three times over.

————————

“I read Zhang’s Animus Theory,” she tells him the following visit. The words rush out of her, too loud and too desperate in the hushed, coffee-fragrant air. She bites the inside of her cheek until she tastes blood to keep herself silent.

At her words the Ink Mage pauses, examining her with the level of intensity he typically reserves for judging the artistry of the caramel drizzle on his drinks. The girl has never noticed how blue his eyes are before—not black but indigo, like wet ink, or the deep, velvety centers of the flowers blooming on her windowsill.

“Animus is trash,” he says dismissively, and her heart does something strange and painful in her chest. “Chocolate chip frappuccino. Two pumps of every syrup you have, extra coffee whipped cream. Venti.”

————————

“Li. Whistler. Astre’s an idiot, but their theory is solid. Diaz is annoying, but accurate; Okada’s Synthesis is a good groundwork if you’re trying to break into incantational magics.” The Ink Mage frowns at her over the lip of his refill. “Are you writing this down, girl?”

“I’ll remember.”

She will. It’s his words, she thinks; his coffee order, his insults, the occasional tidbit of information he deigns to share with her, all of them creeping into the soft gray tissue of her brain and nesting there. Like maggots in the carcass of some strange animal, breeding new life.

————————

“Hazelnut macchiato. Four shots of espresso, extra whip, light ice. Venti.”

“Pumpkin spice latte. One shot of espresso, seven pumps pumpkin, light foam, light whip, light caramel drizzle. Venti.”

————————

On his seventy-second visit to the shop the Ink Mage pauses after he orders, frowning across the counter at her.

“Where do you go to school?”

She tells him, and his mouth curls with disgust.

“Transfer. Now.” When she doesn’t respond, merely cocking her head, birdlike, he rolls his eyes. “I need a new lab assistant—mine are useless.”

“I’m failing all of my classes.” There’s no way she can get in—it’s the University, after all. People would kill for a place. People do kill for a place.

The Ink Mage rolls his eyes again, harder. “Lab assistant. Mine.”

A good point, but:

“You don’t even know my name,” she feels compelled to point out.

“And?”

And—

Well. And nothing. And being the Ink Mage’s assistant sounds mildly more interesting than being a barista, and she likes the sound of the word ‘mine’ in his voice: cool, level, lips shaping the ‘m’ and tongue flicking sharp around the ‘e.’

She shrugs, and slides his cup down the counter with the ease of familiarity. “Okay.”

During her break she brings him an orange scone, a day old and slightly stale, and a fresh cup of matcha green tea (iced, heavy on the whipped cream). The booth is awash in papers; she has to shove a few stacks aside so that she can sit, curled up and small, in the seat across from him. Then she breaks out her beaten-up laptop and begins filling out the transfer application.

She skips over all the parts about personal information, statements. The only thing that matters is the name of the Ink Mage, bold and black, across the top of the form.

#this is The Nicest thing i've written for them which tells you something #little knife is: not drowned not broken not vocal chordless. see? Nicest #you asked for it anon!#my writing #misc #misc writing #*

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desteez · 5 years

Text

The Sugar to My Everything ~ ATEEZ Yeosang

summary: when your boyfriend Yeosang is stressed and worried about his studies, you know exactly how to make his day better. but a visit to the new bakery in town leads to confessions and realizations...

words: 2.1K.

note: a fluffy fic for a fluffy boy! if u didn’t know already, Yeosang has a huge sweet tooth😊 and i got a huge writer’s block in the middle of writing this fic. it was supposed to be done two weeks ago but things didn’t work out as planned lool! as always, lemme know what you thought about it, as well as any feedback! enjoy!! 💕💕💕

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

You sit at a table for two, drinking milk tea through a straw, eyes on the twin closed doors to your right.

You had finished class for the day and were waiting for Yeosang to come out of his last class of the day. It's almost 5, he should be finishing his class any time now. Right as the thought crossed your mind, the doors open and a flood of students rush out chattering amongst themselves.

"Ok, but he literally taught the entire concept in 10 minutes and literally did one practice question on the board? And then makes 3 of the 10 questions on that concept? He's out to fail us!!"

Your ears perk up at the words you overhear from the students streaming past your table.

"That test was brutal, how did you do?" you hear.

"Of course I found it hard, I started studying 10 minutes before class!"

You sigh to yourself. Sometimes you had no idea why Yeosang was so passionate about his program of study. As one of the most difficult programs in the entire country and one of the highest failure rates of any program, it was renowned for it's difficult courses. The majority of its students sported permanent eye bags, could always be found with caffeine in their systems, and got less than 4 hours of good sleep a night. And Yeosang, one of the absolutely brightest people you know, was no exception - it was going to be a few long, taxing, and strenuous years till graduation for him.

In the corner of your eye you see a familiar black jacket make its way towards you. Without looking at his face you could already tell what his expression was like, eyebrows knitted together, lips unconsciously turned downward in a pout.

As Yeosang plops down in the chair in front of you with his own sigh, he snags your bubble tea. "I'm desperately in need of sweets right now," he responds when you shoot him a victimized look.

"Was it really that bad?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

"UhmHmmm, " was his only response as he closed his eyes in contentment, downing gulps of it down.

"I swear sugar runs in your veins."

"No wonder I'm so sweet then!" Yeosang gives you as devilish of a smile as a boy like him can pull off and returns your bubble tea while chewing on a tapioca pearl.

You roll your eyes as you spin the tapioca pearls sitting at the bottom of the cup around with the straw. You'd known Yeosang for almost 5 years now. At first you'd just known him as the quiet, shy boy in your grade with a pretty face that all the girls secretly crushed on. Then you got to know him better and he'd opened up to you. You learned he was not just a pretty face but incredibly intelligent, kind, and surprisingly sassy at times. And of course, yes, you learned about his sweet tooth. And as you got to know him better even better and became his girlfriend, your relationship went from knowing that he had a sweet tooth to taking part in his insatiable quest for sweets. In fact, it had become a tradition to go on a date at a bakery, sweets shop, or cafe exactly once a week. He'd named it "Yeosang's Long Journey" and had described it as crossing off as many X's (aka shops) that he could on his map and pinpointing the treasure (aka the yummy things). Last week's date had been at a frequently visited local bakery, where Yeosang ate a triple chocolate cake and you had gotten a strawberry tart.

Yeosang sighs, leaning forward with head in his hands. "That test really was bad. I had absolutely no idea what I was writing for half of the questions, " another sigh. "I really should've prepared more than I did. If I had spent more time studying I'd have done better. Y/N, If I don't do good on the next one, how am I going to pass this course?"

You watch as he rubs his eyes and gives another long sigh. You knew he was stressed and tired. Finals were coming up real soon and the pressure and stress kept building. The days of all nighters, staring at highlighted notes, cramming, and memorizing had already started and was taking a physical and mental toll on all the students, perhaps more so for Yeosang than others. Yeosang held himself to high expectations and when they weren't met he'd start to get anxious and stressed. He'd pull away from you more and more and isolate himself to his room to study every waking minute. Although you knew that he needed to study, you also knew that a break from all the school work was just as important.

"Yeosang you did the best that you could with the time given. I know you can pass the course Yeosang, and the term's almost over! And you've told me that others in your class are also finding it difficult and haven't been doing great either. That means it's not your fault, you've given it your all, the course is just meant to be super hard or you have a sucky professor!"

Yeosang looks you in the eye and finally smiles a bit.

"Ok...So I know we already did Yeosang's Long Journey for this week but I'll make an exception. Just for this week though! Let's go get some sweets in your system." you say.

He looks at you with wide eyes. "Are you being serious? Can we really go today?"

"There's a new cafe that just opened a few days ago." you tell him picking up your phone and googling its name, "How does it look?" you show him your phone with the bakery's website pulled up.

"Absolutely delicious?!" he replies scrolling through the images with his index finger. He looks back up at you with a brilliant smile. "Let's go already!"

-----

You watch as Yeosang's eyes scan the rows of deserts, his back hunched over to see through the glass display cases. His fingers leave fingerprints on the spotless glass as he points to different pastries, nose almost touching the glass, trying to pick one.

"How does that one look?" he asks tilting his head towards you with the brightest smile on his face. He looks like a golden retriever with his round sparkling eyes directed towards you, eager to get a treat, a hundred times happier now that his mind was off his studies.

He's pointing at what appears to be a chocolate brownie topped with whipped cream and edible sparkles. Protruding out of the whipped cream were bunny ears made out of candy with black icing drawing out the eyes, nose, and mouth.

You bend down and lean in next to him. "It's too cute to eat!" you tell him, pouting.

He looks back at the bunny brownie and scans it again. "You're right."

Today you had let him choose your desert too and he'd chosen a fluffy cheesecake decorated with fruits and jam for you. For the last five minutes he had been trying to choose his own dessert, eyeing everything with a hint of chocolate in it and asking for your opinions.

He moves down the glass display, critiquing the deserts he just looked at a minute ago.

The cafe barista behind the counter turns to you and asks, "Your boyfriend?"

You smile and nod at her.

She cups her hand around her mouth and half whispers, "He's adorable!"

You laugh out loud and walk towards her and the cash machine where the cheesecake Yeosang had picked out for you sat. "Yes, adorable he is!"

A minute later Yeosang pops back by your side and tells the barista, "We'll take the cheesecake and that bunny brownie over there. Oh! And a black coffee and a green tea latte please."

When the barista hands over the plate with the bunny brownie, Yeosang lifts it up to eye level and close enough to almost go cross-eyes. "Agh It's too cute Y/N!"

"I told you so! And you still ended up choosing it!" you scold him while walking to an empty table, sitting down with your cheesecake in hand.

Yeosang sets the plate down and sits down too and plucks out one of the bunny's ears from the whipped cream topping.

"No! Why'd you do that?!?? Put it back!!" You yell and lunge, grabbing his hand before he can devour the bunny ear and guide it to stick it back into the whipped cream. "I gotta take pics!" you say whipping out your phone.

Yeosang chuckles and innocently apologizes with a ,"Ah I forgot," and obediently waits as you take your pictures.

Yeosang's bunny brownie is gone in six bites (you'd stolen a bite of it too), right on time for your drinks to arrive, while your cheesecake sat abandoned. You weren't the biggest fan of chocolate, at the very least your love for chocolate couldn't compare to Yesoang's love for chocolate, but really, what could? But, you had to acknowledge that this cafe made absolutely mouth watering chocolate brownies that happened to be cute too. Rich in flavor, not too sweet, and with the chocolate taste topped with sweet and fluffy whipped cream, it was heaven to your taste buds and you knew Yeosang felt the same.

Yeosang chuckles and picks up a napkin. "Come here. You've got brownie crumbs on your face". He gently takes your chin in his hand and even more gently brushes the crumbs away.

"Hmm I could say the same for you. You've got whipped cream and sparkles everywhere." You reach up with another napkin and wipe the whipped cream from the corners of his mouth. The sparkles... well there was no easy way to get rid of those, and well, they looked good on him.

When you're done Yeosang immediately picks up his fork and starts eating away at your cheesecake making sure to help himself to the fruits and jam.

"Mmmmm!" he looks at you with wide eyes, spoon still in his mouth when he eats the first bite.

You giggle at his expression. "Which one was better, your bunny or the cheesecake?"

He thinks about it carefully, smiling around another spoonful of cheesecake. "The bunny brownie! It gets extra points for looking cute!"

His smile suddenly disappears and he suddenly looks down, wanting to say something, and gently places his fork down.

He looks a little nervous, a little embarrassed, but completely sincere with what he wanted to say as he clasped his hands in font of him together in front of him.

He takes a deep and long breath in and puffs it out.

"Thank you" he says.

And hearing those words, you knew without further explanation what he meant, what he was trying to say. In that one Thank You, you heard him say Thank You for always being there to comfort me, Thank You for always knowing how to cheer me up, Thank You for choosing to stay by my side, Thank You for helping me through difficult times in my life, Thank You for being such a kind and amazing person, Thank you for being the love of my life.

You may have heard Thank You from his mouth but his eyes, his eyes said I Love You and that one Thank You was a thousand times stronger than any of the I Love You's he'd given before.

And it hit you then, hit you stronger than it ever had before. This boy, No, this man sitting in front of you with his pure heart and beautiful soul laid bare for you. You loved him. You loved him so much that it hurt. It hurt to not be around him. And you realized Kang Yeosang. Yeosang was the one person you wanted to spend your entire life with. You wanted to be around him every second of the day, every second of the night. You would never let him go.

So you reach out and take his hand in your own, holding it as if holding something too good for words to describe. And you look at this wonderful human in front of you, sweeter than any chocolate, your one in a billion, and say back to him, "Thank you".

He smiles and interlaces your fingers together, giving you a nod. Because he knows, he too knows without any more words said what you mean: Thank You for being with me, Thank You for pulling me into your life, Thank You for being the highlight of my day, Thank You for being the first thing I think of every morning and last ever night, Thank You for having the most beautiful smile in existence, Thank You for loving me as I am... Thank You for being

... you.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

… and then they lived happily ever after …

// by @esdblu | @desteez

{Masterlist All}

#ateez #atzeditors #atzinc #ateeztreasures #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #atiny #ateez x reader #ateez writing #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #ateez yeosang #yeosang #kang yeosang #kpop fic #kpop fluff #kpop #mine

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pilot-boi · 4 years

Text

Shouting in Cafes: Chapter Seven

Highway Skyline

They’re burning down the highway skyline, on the back of a hurricane that started turning when they were young.

AO3 LINK

Neptune made a point to carefully open the car door and get inside. The car was… Nice. Surprisingly nice. The seats were clean and smelled like lemons, the floor mats were spotless. No trash. No stains. Sun was checking his hair in the rearview mirror.

“Huh,” Neptune said, not fast enough to hide the surprise in his voice.

“What?” Sun asked, freezing.

“It’s nice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No beer bottles.”

“Wow, dude. I’m hurt, truly,” Sun said, pressing a hand to his chest in a facsimile of hurt. Or maybe it was real hurt. He could never tell with this guy.

Neptune supressed a laugh at his performance. He couldn’t afford to let Sun see him be happy. That would mean he was winning, and they weren’t friends. Nope. Totally not.

“Ready to ride?” Sun asked with a smile that said danger.

“Just… here? We’re going way over the speed limit here?”

“It’s fine!” Sun waved him off, adjusting his mirror and shooting himself a grin in the reflection. “There are never any cops or pedestrians here. Don’t worry so much, Neptune!”

“I have to worry. That’s the only way you won’t freaking kill yourself.”

Sun laughed, and he did have a nice laugh dammit. A laugh that made you want to laugh along with him. Neptune barely restrained himself from doing just that.

“Okay! Here we go!”

Sun was out of that parking space so fast, Neptune thought he might get whiplash. He stopped the car just as quickly, then started it up again before either one of them could get their bearings.

“Su- Su-” Neptune stuttered out between the breaks, his nails digging into the leather and his glasses threatening to fly off his face.

“Aw, see? We are good friends!” Sun called over the purring engine. “We’re already giving each other nicknames!”

“Shut up!”

The pavement screamed underneath them and Neptune watched his life zoom past. Oh, look, there went the time Scarlet knocked his head into the terrible birthday cupcake he got him and Neptune had sprinkles dropping out of his hair for at least a week.

Sun bucked the car onto the empty street and took off, wind tangling in his hair and eyes open wide. The trees turned into green blurs, the buildings into only smudges of paint on a blue backdrop.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Neptune yelled and promptly sealed his mouth closed. Air poured down his throat at top speeds and with it most likely a million bugs. No thank you, this was terrifying enough all ready, he didn’t need that.

The road bumped and threatened to make him bite his tongue off. And he needed that, thank you very much. For screaming, if nothing else.

“You know, you sure do take the Lord’s name in vain a whole lot,” Sun said as casually as if they were out for lunch. He pulled out some sunglasses and tucked them into Neptune’s hair without even asking. Yellow reflective aviators. What had he really been expecting?

“I’m already Catholic! It’s fine!”

“I’m not really sure that’s how it works,” he said conversationally as he pulled on a pair of honest-to-God fingerless driving gloves. He was going to die. Forget getting in a crash, his heart was going to stop.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Neptune screamed. Sun had started fishing around in the space between the cupholders, and his face was turned completely away from the road to do it. Neptune’s heart raced. Street signs smeared. Sun’s speed neared one hundred.

“It’s fine, it’s fine! Cool your jets, dude! I’m just grabbing some tunes!”

“We’re going to die!”

“Oh, so now we’re a we?” Sun quipped, winking at Neptune and still not even glancing at the road that his car was practically devouring.

“What the hell are you talking about?! Just keep your fucking eyes on the road, you absolute maniac, or I’m going to have an actual stroke!!” Neptune screamed, his lungs in his throat and his heart hammering in his chest. He was going to tear the leather upholstery with how hard he was gripping it.

Sun laughed. Laughed! Like they weren’t doing something highly illegal and could die at any second! “We’re not gonna hit anyone! Hey, dude, do you dare me to beat one-fifteen?”

“No!”

More laughter. That laughter was going to be the last thing he ever heard.

Sun finally got what he was looking for. He wiped the CD (who still used CDs?) off on his tank top and popped it into the player. Big band jazz music blew from the speakers, the bass cranked up because of course it was. Still. Jazz? Trumpetey, 1920s, New Orleans jazz?

“What the fuck is this?!”

“You really lose your censor when you’re out of work,” Sun said, leaning casually back into his seat, seemingly ignoring his hair flying in every direction from the wind, and facing directly towards Neptune to speak.

“No, I don’t! I think it’s the life or death situation I’m currently facing!”

“My driving isn’t that bad,” Sun pouted, his eyes wide again. Damn those eyes, how dare they look like they’d been plucked straight from a noon day sky.

“Shut the fuck up and stop giving me those puppy eyes! Keep your goddamn eyes on the- You almost hit that sign watchoutwatchoutwatchoutwatchout holy fucking shit!!”

Neptune’s face was suddenly freezing, what with all the blood draining out of it and all. His hand had made its way to his heart somehow, bunching up in the fabric, while his other arm pressed up against the car door as if that would help if they hit something. If he had a heart monitor on, it would read well over one hundred.

“Puppy eyes?” Sun asked, said eyes lighting up once again and that fucking grin spreading across his face.

No. Oh God no.

“It’s a thing you do, Shut up a-”

“You noticed a thing I do?” He sounded delighted. God fucking dammit, what the hell?! Neptune was having a fever dream. That was it. He was dying of a horrible sickness, and this was the torture his brain had conjured up for him.

“Dumbass! Holy shit! Please just focus on the road!”

Sun sped up.

“No. No no no nononono!!”

“Yes yes hell fucking yes!!”

Neptune glanced over. Sun was grinning from ear to ear. A spot light that split the darkness. A smile for punching the sun, for setting off illegal fireworks just to have some color in the sky. A smile for street racing at unimaginable speeds just to bond with a barista he barely knew.

“You’re actually planning on killing me,” Neptune panicked, at whatever could pass for a normal tone of voice in this death trap. “If this was a trick to kill me, congratulations, it’s fucking working!”

Sun had the audacity to laugh. “I’m actually going to die in this neon blue convertible with a maniac at the steering wheel!” Neptune yelped, the calm demeanor his horrified realization had brought gone in an instant.

“Wow, you’re morbid!” Sun laughed. “Chill out, dude! I just want to get a little air!” His grip tightened on the steering wheel and he leaned forward as if that would make them go faster.

“A little…?!”

Neptune un-squinted his eyes and focused on the road up ahead. Sure enough, there lay a steep hill that Neptune had somehow managed to forget about. How could he? He drove up it every morning and back down it every night. It made your stomach fly up into your throat even at regular speeds.

“This is suicide!” Neptune cried, gripping his seat belt tight enough to snap it right in two.

“Not if we don’t die!”

“If we don’t die, we get arrested! That’s not better! You get how that’s not better, right?!”

“How is dying better than getting arrested? Besides, there are never any cops here!”

“You’re insane!”

“We’re almost there!”

“I’m going to vomit! Seriously, I swear to Go-”

“Hold on!” Sun yelled, teeth bared in a face splitting grin and eyes bright with manic fire.

Everything in the car went flying, including its passengers. Miraculously, that flight was only an inch or so out of their seat and not through the windshield. Still, the experience of rocketing over a hill at hundred of miles per hour speeds while bass-boosted jazz blared out of the speakers was a unique experience that Neptune never wanted to repeat.

Neptune’s seat belt caught him as he threatened to fly overboard. Sun was cheering his head off, Neptune was too terrified for any sound to escape his throat. His voice seemed to have been left on the pavement below.

There was a split second where he could have sworn that time froze and he was able to watch Sun’s huge eyes crackle with electricity and excitement. The red leaves of the trees on either side of the road swished with the new wind. The road beneath them blurred, the center lines losing all meaning. All within half a second.

But then their tires bounced once, then twice, and finally they were on the road again.

And Sun was grinding to a halt.

And swerving into a ditch.

He let the car turn completely sideways, pressing down hard into the brake. Dirt flew up around them along with clumps of grass and a few pieces of Neptune’s remaining sanity.

They lurched forward, then stilled.

And Sun hollered. “Holy shit that was awesome!!”

Neptune’s voice returned. “Am I dead?” he asked, frozen stock still in his seat, too scared to move.

“Not yet, bro!”

There was silence for a moment. Then a laugh bubbled out of Neptune. And another. And he was grabbing at his stomach in an effort to control them.

“I’ve never heard you laugh before,” Sun chuckled.

“I guess,” -a laugh break- “I save them for near-death experiences!”

Sun giggled a little. Then he joined, too.

Both of them clutched their sides with the laughing, and the more Sun laughed the more Neptune laughed because his laugh was so infectious it was annoying, but Neptune couldn’t find it in him to be annoyed. It faded in and out from high pitched snickers through his teeth and tongue to deep roaring claps of thunder. Woodland pixie. Hearty ship captain.

“Why the hell do you have bright yellow aviators, dumbass? That’s so lame!” Neptune cackled, pulling them off his head and wiping tears from behind his glasses.

“Why the hell do you have blue freaking hair? Like, more blue than my car! What the fuck?!” Sun pointed out before sputtering into more indistinguishable laughing.

They both slid down further and further into the leather seats, their shoes resting on the dashboard, the occasional putter of laughter from one of them sending both back into a laughing competition that their sides couldn’t handle anymore.

The wind messed up Sun’s hair. Bad. All that gel helped when it was styled correctly, but when Mother Nature had her way with it, it turned into a hot mess. Or just a mess. It splayed out around his head, combining with the straw yellow color and making his head look like he’d jumped into a haystack and a fan at the same time. The back just stood off his neck, straight up in the air like someone had just ordered it to attention.

He kept running his hands all through it. Like it helped. Neptune probably didn’t look that great either.

Sun’s chest was heaving with laughter and adrenaline, and there were bright pink spots high on his cheeks. His sparse freckles dotted under his flush and speckled like constellations across the arms brushing back his hair. Bright yellow hair framing eyes like drops of sky.

“Do you want me to take you back to your car?”

Neptune opened his eyes. Woozily, he addressed his surroundings. Sun was inches away from his face, eyebrows pressed together, one hand climbing through his messy hair. Had they been…? No. No stop. Neptune had just passed out from exhaustion and Sun was waking him up. That was all that had happened.

How late was it? The orange and pink shades of sunset scraped against the tops of the red-leaved trees that closed in around them. It shone through the gaps of the trunks in slats that blinded Neptune momentarily and lit up the flecks of gold in Sun’s blue eyes.

What was happening?

Sun just asked him a question. Focus Neptune.

“Uh. Yeah. Sure.” He thought for a second. Sun was still really close to his face, and for some reason his thoughts were moving more slowly than normal. He could count the individual freckles speckling his cheeks. “I won the bet.”

“It wasn’t really a bet. Just an agreement,” Sun murmured, his eyes flicking over Neptune’s face as if trying to memorize it.

“Sure, sure, but I survived.” He was too close. Why was he so close?

“Yeah,” Sun said, finally leaning back and rubbing the back of his neck almost sheepishly. “Am I really that bad of a driver?”

“Don’t make me start laughing again.”

Sun smiled bright enough to light up a dark room and clapped a hand on Neptune’s shoulder before starting up the car.

His hand was warm. Calloused and huge, and warm. Neptune definitely did not glance down at it.

Nope. Totally did not do that.

#rwby #neptune vasilias #sun wukong #seamonkeys #mine #my writing #coffee shop rwby #writing wednesday #chapter 7 #shouting in cafes

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cherrybracelets · 5 years

Text

this year’s love /chapter two/

tyl playlist | tyl masterlist | full masterlist

pairing: modern!billy hargrove x reader, modern!steve harrington x reader

word count: 3.2k / warnings: none

an: chap two!!!!!! this one is kinda slow and boring but it’s just a buffer piece while the real story evolves lol. as usual, please give feedback if you like it, and a reblog always makes me swoon!!!! love u all!!!! ❤️

'Did you get home okay?'

'Yes... thanks for checking up'\

You stared at your phone, waiting for a new message, hoping something would pop up. You hated just staring at your phone, waiting for a boy to text you back. You weren't this type of person- but Billy made you feel something, something you couldn't explain. It wasn't a nervousness, your heart wasn't racing, there were no butterflies. It was a calm, peaceful feeling. When you looked at him, it felt like coming home after a long day, a warm, comforting feeling.

But that feeling suddenly fled when you looked down at your phone and realized he had read your message two minutes ago. And there was no response. Maybe he really did just want to make sure you got home safe, and that was it. You weren't a great judge of other peoples feelings, and maybe you had just read the situation wrong. That was it, there was nothing. And a part of you felt crushed, realizing that you had overblown this whole scenario. You really, really fucking wanted him to like you back.

The thoughts racing through your brain exhausted you, and you quickly fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. It was nice, for a few hours there was nothing. Just a quiet, peaceful darkness. There was something intoxicating about falling asleep and knowing you had nowhere to be and nothing to do the following day. Your body could take over, lull you into unconsciousness with no worries about alarms interrupting.

You couldn't sleep forever, though, as much as you wanted to in that moment. You woke up groggily, having a hard time adjusting to the bright sun shining into your room. You reached for your phone, almost completely forgetting being ignored by Billy the previous night- until you saw the messages again. Still left on read, no response. You just shook your head and locked your phone, refusing to allow him to take up any more of your time.

You crawled out of bed slowly, throwing your hair up in a scrunchie and heading downstairs for some breakfast. It was almost ten thirty, and that was the latest you had slept in a while. The kitchen was loud and crowded, your friends gathered around the island and chatting over cups of coffee and blunts.

"Good morning sleepy," Robin said, smiling at you.

"Why did no one wake me up?" You asked, frowning at the group who seemed to be having just as much fun without you.

"I walked into to check on you, but you looked real peaceful. Didn't see a need to bother you," Cody responded, taking a sip of his coffee.

You opened up the fridge, expecting mountains of food to greet your rumbling stomach, but were greeted with empty shelves. You frowned, remembering that you all literally moved in yesterday, and no one had managed to go to the store yet. You looked back at your roommates, who were all sipping on coffee from the Starbucks across the street.

"Bastards, you couldn't even get me anything?" You yelled, shaking your head.

"Here, you can have the rest of mine," Steve laughed, handing you his half finished iced coffee. You turned away in disgust, making fake gagging sounds as he shook the coffee in your face.

"I don't want your backwash, S... I'll just go get some for myself. But if I get murdered, just know I will seriously come back and haunt the hell out of all of you." You winked at Steve, who immediately turned bright red and looked away from you. You had never seen Steve look nervous before, but you were too tired to investigate it any further. Cody handed you some cash, offering to buy your coffee since they all went without you. You thanked him sarcastically, still a little mad they didn't wake you up for their morning antics.

You quickly ran upstairs to brush your teeth and change out of your pajamas, but that was about the only effort you felt like putting in. Classes started in just a few days, and you were doing your best to save all of your energy before it would all be drained away once again. You came back down the stairs, about to head out the front door, but you looked back on your group of friends in the kitchen quickly before leaving. For the first time in your life, it felt like you were looking from the outside in, watching them all living their best life. You had this sinking feeling inside of you, this feeling you couldn't shake... this year was going to change a lot of things for you. You didn't know what yet, but something was coming.

You stared longingly at your friends, wondering if they had ever felt like this before. You had no reason to feel like an outsider in your own home, there was no reason for you to not feel apart of things. Your friends loved you, you all loved each other. Those were your people... but why did something feel so... off.

You were just tired. That was all... and still not feeling your best after being ignored by a guy you felt like you had a connection with. You just weren't yourself right now, that was all. You just needed to walk out the door and get some coffee, try and relax a bit. Get out of your head. You did your best to avoid being there for too long, because it never turned out good when you were stuck in your thoughts.

It was another nice day outside, the sun still shining, the air carrying a warmth that wrapped around you like a blanket. It was probably once of the last nice days you would experience for a while. Fall was coming, you could feel it in your gut. Changing leaves, cold winds, cloudy days... it was all right around the corner. You looked up at the sun, thanking her for keeping you warm over the last few months, but accepting the inevitable cold.

You walked up the street quickly, avoiding making eye contact with strangers on the sidewalk. You were quite familiar with this walk to Starbucks, taking it nearly every day last year before class. It was one of the reasons you and your friends had chosen this house to live in. You all needed your coffee, and having it just a short walk away was essential to your survival in college.

It wasn't busy when you walked in, which you expected for this time of day. Everyone had already gotten their early morning before work coffee, but it was still too early for the lunch crowd. You were grateful there was no line to wait in, wanting to get back home as soon as possible before your friends forgot you existed completely. You found yourself staring at the pastries in the display, losing yourself for a moment as your stomach grumbled at the food in front of you.

"(Y/N)?" A voice spoke, making you jump slightly as it broke your thoughts. You put a hand on your chest, trying to catch your breath, as you turned around to see Billy standing behind you. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said, trying not to laugh at you.

"It's fine I was just... zoned out..." you responded, your heart finally returning to its normal pace. Billy looked you up and down, taking in your 'just crawled out of bed and haven't brushed my hair yet' look. He really thought you were beautiful, and it scared him. He had never looked at anyone the way he looked at you before. Billy opened his mouth to try and speak, but couldn't seem to get any words out.

"You guys ready to order?" The barista asked, standing impatiently behind the register.

"Oh, we aren't together," you responded, awkwardly taking a few steps away from Billy to prove your point.

"Actually, let me get your coffee, it's the least I can do for not texting you back." Billy smiled awkwardly, shrugging his shoulders, hoping you weren't dismissing him completely for not responding to you.

"Yeah, okay, thanks." You ordered your coffee, and a croissant to tide over your hunger, and Billy paid for you without ordering anything for himself. "You don't want anything?" You asked, a bit confused.

"Um... yeah, I just decided I didn't need anymore... I had some shitty coffee at home," he stuttered, trying his best to pull together a reason.

"Hey, why didn't you text me back?" You looked at him, hoping whatever response he had would be bad enough that you could walk away from him and never look back. He did something to you, and it really fucking terrified you. You knew that having him in your life would be... work. It wouldn't be easy. And you weren't sure if you were ready for it. So you begged, to whatever God or entity was looking over you... please just let him be an asshole. Please make this easy for me.

"I've never really... had a crush on a girl before, I guess," he responded, questioning his own self as he spoke to you. "I stood at my phone for like, fifteen minutes, just trying to think of what to say next. I just felt like you deserved something good, and I had nothing."

"So you'd rather say nothing than something less than perfect? That's a little pretentious, don't you think?" You looked at Billy, whose face fell as he realized that although he was trying to be perfect for you, it came off as extremely douchey. And he did not want you to think of him that way.

"I'm sorry, I haven't done this before." Billy wouldn't look at you, to embarrassed to meet your gaze. \

"Done what?"

"I've... uh... never had a real girlfriend, I guess. Or talked to a girl, or whatever."

"Oh, fuck," you mumbled, laughing to yourself. Billy finally looked at you, confused and upset, thinking you were laughing at him. "Sorry, I'm not laughing at you, I swear... I've just also never done this, I've never had the time to worry about a relationship. You shouldn't be so embarrassed about it."

"How can someone like you... never have a boyfriend?" Billy was also laughing, finally feeling a bit less uncomfortable.

"I could ask the same thing about you." You met his eyes, and for a moment, you both knew exactly what the other was trying to say, something that was buried deep inside of both of you. 'Because I don't think I deserve to be loved.'

"Listen, I have to run, but please... text me... I don't need perfection, Billy. I promise." You placed your hand on his, feeling a wholesomeness rush over you the moment your flesh touched his. In that moment, it took every ounce of strength for you to let go of him and walk away. But you had to, you had a life back home, people who were expecting you to walk back through your front door any moment now. You couldn't get lost with him, as much as you wanted too. You had to go home. But every moment you spent with Billy, home felt farther and farther away, a distant memory.

You took your hand off of his, walking out of the store without looking back, afraid that if you caught his glimpse again, you'd go running back to him and never look back. Why were you so terrified of the way he made you felt? What was it about him that scared you so much, that you'd rather feel nothing than something? You'd managed to avoid falling in love for almost 21 years now, and now that you could see yourself falling for someone, you had absolutely no fucking clue how to handle it.

And you knew he wasn't the type of person you were supposed to end up with. Your whole life had been practically planned out for you since you came out of the womb... including marrying a nice boy from an high-class New York family, one that your parents approved of. You didn't know anything about where Billy came from, or who he really was, but you knew he wasn't the person you were supposed to fall for. And maybe that's what scared you the most...

You walked back through the door of your house, greeted to excited yells from your friends, who had now migrated to your living room. You walked over to them, grateful that once again you could get out of your own head space. You flopped down on your couch next to Nancy, leaning your head on her shoulder and sipping slowly on your coffee. They were catching up on the latest episode of some show you weren't really in to, but it felt nice to just be there with all of them.

"I can't believe they actually let this guy go!" Cody shouted, pointing at the TV in disbelief. You tried to zone back in a figure out what was happening, but your brain was not in it today. You just turned away and scrolling aimlessly through instagram, trying to push Billy out of your mind.

The sound of your doorbell ringing suddenly brought you out of your head, all of you looking up and staring at each other to see who would get up and answer. Jonathan stood up, motioning to you all that he'd get it this time. You all stared at him as he walked over, curious at who your unexpected visitor could be. Jonathan opened the door and greeted whoever it was, chatting for a bit before glancing back over to the group and nodding. Billy walked through the door, closing it behind him as he came in. You looked around, shocked and trying to avoid him.

"(Y/N), you've got company," Jonathan said, walking Billy over to you. Billy smiled awkwardly at you, and you tried your best to give him a polite smile back.

"Can I chat with you for a sec?" He asked, trying not to notice every one of your friends staring at him.

"Uh... sure... let's go upstairs," you responded, standing up and leading Billy to your room. You felt the eyes of all your friends staring holes through you, curious as to what he was doing here for you. You brought Billy into your room and closed the door behind you, really not wanting your friends to overhear whatever conversation was about to be had.

"Listen... I can't get you out of my head..." Billy started, putting his hand behind his neck and trying to think through his words. "I have this massive, school boy crush on you and I was just gonna pretend it wasn't there... but I can't... I have to tell you because I think you like me, too."

"Billy... um..."

"Can you just be real with me for one second? I feel like everything you say is just some cover up for how you really feel... why do you do that to yourself? Why don't you want to just be true to who you are?"

"That's a rude way to ask a girl out, you know?" You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief.

"Whatever, you know I'm right. That's why you won't admit you like me, because I pose a threat to this perfect little cocoon of falsehoods you've created."

"That's bullshit. You don't know anything about me!"

"Does anyone?" Billy stared at you, his eyes scanning you like a book. He was right, of course. He saw you, the parts you tried so hard to keep hidden. He just looked right at them... could everybody see them, too? Or was he just the only person who cared enough to try looking?

"Fine, Billy. I like you. What do you want to do about it?"

"I want to take you out. I want you know how good it can finally feel to open up and be yourself."

You looked at him, not sure how to respond. You couldn't think of any words in your head, just white noise. He was already breaking through you, testing you. You walked over to him and wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling his face to yours and kissing him. The kiss was fast and passionate, both of you so overwhelmed with emotion that you could only get out through touch. Billy ran his hands down your torso and stopped at your waist, pulling you into him.

"You get one date. You better not mess it up," you said to him, backing away from the kiss momentarily.

"I'll see you tomorrow night, then. Eight?"

"Okay." You backed away from him and opened your bedroom door, hoping your heart would slow down just a bit. You started walking back down stairs towards the front door, Billy following without a word. You opened the door for him, waiting to see what he would say before he left. But he didn't say anything, he just leaned down and kissed you again, wrapping his arms around your waist once more before finally leaving. You closed the door slowly, locking it and turning around to your friends who were all looking at you with wide eyes and open mouths.

"What the hell was that?" Robin asked, laughing a bit, still shocked.

"I've got a date tomorrow night." You felt yourself smiling as you said it out loud, the idea of Billy taking you out and doing something romantic. It gave you butterflies.

"Well, shit... Good for you. He's hot," Cody said, giving you a thumbs up and turning back to his show.

"I'm gonna go shower... I'll be back in a bit," you said hazily, walking upstairs to your bathroom.

"We're gonna head out for a bit, too. Gotta go do something with my brother," Nancy said, grabbing Jonathans hand and walking out the front door together. Robin, Steve, and Cody stayed put in the living room.

"You alright, Steve? You look upset?" Robin asked, noticing Steve staring off into space looking tense.

"It's nothing... don't worry about it..."

"Yeah, I don't like the sound of that. Spill, kid." Cody and Robin sat on either side of Steve, leaning in to hear whatever gossip he was going to dish.

"Do you think (Y/N) can still hear us?" Steve whispered, glancing upstairs.

"Nah, showers on it sounds like. She's gone. Why, what's up?" Cody leaned in closer to Steve, having trouble remembering the last time he saw him this stressed.

"I... uh... when I was in Spain this summer... I broke up with Sarina..." he mumbled, biting down on his lip nervously.

"Yeah, we heard..."

"It was because I realized I was in love with (Y/N)." Steve looked at Robin, waiting for her to say something.

"Shit... that's going to be a problem."

#stranger things #stranger things 3 #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #fic series #stranger things fanfiction #fanfic series

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alloverthegaf · 6 years

Note

So you said you wanted prompts so here's one I tried to write but never did because I'm not a good writer and also I'm lazy: *So the idea is that person A is a barista and person B learns A's hours and come in specifically to see A and order something complicated and annoying. And give A a hard time. But today, A is already having a bad time.* anyway if you want to try that haha

I like it and it’s perfect for Merthur which is not something I generally write but hopefully @dementorsatemysoup will get a kick out of it?

There’s a lot of swearing, mostly a horrendous abuse of the word ‘asshole’, and it cuts off very abruptly because it kept going longer than I meant it to and I ran out of patience lmao but hopefully you like anyway

The first time the Handsome Asshole, as he comes to be known in Merlin’s head, enters the cafe where he works is something of a prophecy for how their relationship is destined to go. He steps up to the counter, six people waiting in line behind him, and proceeds to order quite possibly the most complicated, douchiest beverage Merlin has ever had the displeasure of making. He lists off no less than eight modifications for his coffee, and though Merlin has two years of practice with his customer service smile, he can feel it getting tighter with every specification. Clearly, the Asshole who is Handsome is oblivious to Merlin’s - and his other customers’ - impatience, because he then goes back and lists it all again to make sure he hasn’t missed anything. Merlin assures him, through gritted teeth, that he’s got it all written down and will take extra care not to forget anything, and takes a moment to compose himself before he takes the next person’s order.

Despite the unfairly attractive man - tall, toned and beautifully blond - being an unequivocal douchebag, Merlin does his best to get the ludicrous order right, but they’re understaffed, it’s 8am, and there’s a horde of uni students who are about five minutes away from moaning for brains.

He gets the order wrong, and boy does he fucking hear about it.

It doesn’t stop the man from coming back, though. Two days later he’s back, this time at 4 in the afternoon, and Merlin could swear his face lights up with evil glee when he sees who’s behind the counter.

“Think you can get it right this time?”

Now, Merlin understands that the main reason he even has this job is because his uncle runs the place. He’s very grateful to Gaius for hiring him, and he knows that every time he mouths off to a customer it’s Gaius that has to hear about it. He never actually means to bite anyone’s head off, but he’s never been so great at keeping his mouth shut around bullies and the “think you can not be a prat this time?” slips out of his mouth before he’s even processed the words in his head.

Handsome Asshole’s eyes widen to saucer size and while a part of Merlin is panicking and already trying to think of a way explain this to his uncle, the rest of him is doing a mental self-five. He wishes he had his phone on him to take a photo of the guy’s expression. Maybe he’d print it out. Stick it on one of the front windows.

In the end, he doesn’t get abused. The man orders a flat white with two sugars and doesn’t say another word, but he stays as he drinks his coffee, and Merlin swears he can feel eyes on him the entire time. He waits, afterwards, for the inevitable dressing down from Gaius, but it never comes. Asshole must not have complained after all. Huh.

Maybe he realised he was being a prat after all.

But then, one week later, Handsome Asshole is back and apparently determined to up the ‘Asshole’ levels. His order seems twice as complicated as the first one, and he changes his mind about what syrup he wants about three times. Every time he does so, his smirk grows just a little wider, a little bit more smug, and Merlin can practically feel his blood levels rising. He considers getting it wrong on purpose, just to inconvenience him, but it’s pretty clear by this point he’s just being difficult on purpose so Merlin devotes every ounce of his concentration to making it perfect.

Judging by the surprised look on Handsome Asshole’s stupid handsome face, he succeeds. Mentally, he starts a tally in his head. Counting their first meeting, he sees it as 2 - 1 with him in the advantage. It’s his turn to smile smugly. Asshole looks at him with something like contemplation.

From there the pattern is set. At least three times a week Handsome Asshole - or HA for the times when Merlin’s too busy to properly mentally insult him - comes in and orders something ludicrous. It’s different every time, and every time Merlin makes sure he gets it just right. It comes to the point where Merlin neglects other customers’ orders in sake of HA’s, and as soon as he realises this he curses the man, but he can’t seem to make himself stop. Every time the man sips his coffee, or tea, or iced double whip soy latte with extra foam and two straws, and that expression crosses his face, Merlin feels like it’s a win.

Then comes the Very Bad Not So Good Day, as Gwen refers to it, or Absolute Shitfest, as Merlin prefers. It’s exam time for the uni students, and their milk wand is playing up, and a toddler knocks her babycino (and why is that a drink, Merlin thinks as he’s hurriedly mopping it up, just give her a goddamn juice box), and then a woman wearing gold and pearls like a bird that’s collected too many shiny things for its nest yells at Gwen and very nearly makes her cry, and Merlin has just. Had it. With this day, with this job, with humanity in general, Merlin is done, and he’s trying to gather the strength to last the two hours he has left of his shift while squeezing Gwen’s hand in comfort when the Asshole - because Merlin’s not feeling charitable enough for the ‘Handsome’ part today - strolls in like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

Merlin takes a deep breath, lets go of Gwen’s hand with a final squeeze, and steps up to the register. He stands tall as Admittedly Still Maybe Slightly Handsome Asshole walks up to the counter and opens his mouth to no doubt make his day twenty times harder, and Merlin just snaps.

“No.”

Asshole stares at him. “Excuse me? No?”

“No.” Merlin knows he should backpedal, excuse himself, just take the damn coffee order and spit in it when no one’s looking like any normal person would do, but he’s started now and he can’t seem to stop his mouth forming the words. “No, I will not make your skinny cap with three sugars and an extra half shot, or your mochachino at precisely 82 degrees temperature and four marshmallows, no, you don’t get a half-water chai latte with no foam and a dash of vanilla, no, okay, no. I’m done. I have had the day from hell, I am tired, my friend is crying in the back, and I’m about two seconds from throwing a mug at someone’s head, so no.” He breathes in, long and deep, and lets it out, taking advantage of the stunned silence. “I’m willing to do a flat white. One regular, plain, no frills flat white. I may throw in a spoon of sugar if you agree in the next five seconds.

To his utter shock, the man nods. “Okay.” Suddenly, it’s Merlin’s turn to stare. The man’s looking serious for about the first time since he ever stepped foot in this cafe, and is watching Merlin with dark eyes, calm and composed.

“Okay,” repeats Merlin dumbly, “okay.” He turns to start the very simple, very plain, very… boring coffee order.

“Is your friend okay?”

“What?”

Handsome Asshole cocks his head in gentle enquiry, and fuck, fuck if Merlin has stop calling him Asshole then all he’s got left is Handsome and he can not deal with that - “you said your friend’s crying. What happened?”

“Oh,” Merlin says, confused and unsure where to step in the face of this suddenly caring and apparently nice man, “uh, yeah, she uh - just, a customer was really awful to her, a few minutes ago.”

“I’m sorry,” is the man’s answer, and okay, what?

“Seriously? You’re sorry?” Merlin sets the mug down on the counter with a hard clunk and the man flinches as the coffee spills over the sides. “You’re sorry? You’ve been making my life hell since the moment you came in here but someone else gives one of us crap and now you’re sorry?”

“To be fair, I’ve only ever given you crap. I’m always nice to Gwen.”

Merlin throws his arms up wildly. “Oh, well, in that case.”

He hears an inelegant snort and stares at Very Handsome Asshole who is poorly hiding a grin behind one hand. Merlin channels his Uncle Gaius and raises a very unimpressed eyebrow. “Okay, seriously, what’s the deal? Why have you got it in for me?”

“I don’t,” is the reply, as the man lowers his hand but leaves the grin in place. “Not, uh, not like that, anyway.”

And that - that just makes no sense to Merlin, who responds with a very eloquent “what?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this but you’re incredible entertaining when you get all riled up.” Merlin opens his mouth to give an improvised but impassioned lecture on the morals of riling up service people for fun when he quickly adds “and cute.”

Merlin thinks something in his brain has fallen out of place. “What?” he says again, because apparently that’s what his vocabulary has shrunk to.

“Your ears get very red,” the man says, and the high points of his cheeks seem to flush in sympathy. “And your eyes get kind of wild and you start biting your lip and, uh.” He rubs the back of his neck. It’s the first time Merlin has ever seen him act self-conscious. “Well. Couldn’t help myself, I suppose.”

Merlin stares at him. And stares. The staring goes on for so long that the coffee sitting ignored between them goes cold. Finally, as if only just managing to register what was said, he exclaims “you’ve pissed me off for near three months because I’m cute?!”

Some of the other patrons look over curiously at the rise in volume. Handsome Man shifts uncomfortably under the sudden scrutiny. “I’ve been told I’m not so good at flirting.”

“You think?”

#merlin #Anonymous #merthur #small fics #my writing #dementorsatemysoup

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swanandapirate · 6 years

Text

A Muted Hue of Grey (1/14) -- CSBB

Summary: Emma Swan liked being a PI in Boston. It was a fun job, she had an okay income and she was a good one at that, so there was no logical reason to try and leave. Except for the fact that she wanted to, so badly. And, when she received a job offer for what seemed to be the opportunity of a lifetime, she did exactly that. Leave. Run. All the way to London. The job was simple: trailing a man called Killian Jones. Easy enough.

Well, until things get complicated, that is.

Rating: M (later mentions of violence, alcohol abuse, and sex)

Wordcount: 2934

Links: ao3 // ff.net

A/N: Pheeewww it's finally here! Over a year ago, I came up with yet another prompt that I thought I was never going to write and then had the crazy idea to write it as a part of @captainswanbigbang which was one of the best decisions I’ve made in a long time. I've been working on this story for months and at last, it is done and ready to be posted. This has been a 61K labor of love with a couple of obstacles along the road (I’m looking at you, uni). I owe major gratitude to my betas and superheroes @acourtoftruelove and @ofshipsandswans for sometimes yelling at me, often correcting me, and always squealing along with me. I couldn't have done this without them.

And check out the banner and amazing picset by the lovely @shady-swan-jones who gave this fic the perfect art to go along with it.

So, without further ado: A Muted Hue of Grey.

——————————

God, why were there so many people?

She thought Boston was bad but London was, quite frankly, ten times worse. She had to keep her lips pursed together to keep from grunting and swearing every two seconds. Tourists here, street vendors there. Cyclists who ran a red light, almost plowing her over when she had every right to cross as the green stick figure had given her permission. The city had its charm, of course, but not when she needed to focus and could not be distracted by a girl taking a selfie in the middle of the road while blocking every other person walking there. Emma had a mission and she couldn’t fuck it up.

Avoiding eye contact with the pubescent-looking guy, clipboard in hand and a bright raincoat with a logo of some non-profit organization branded on his back, she continued on. It had to be far from an enjoyable job, standing outside, braving the cold and the rain only to be turned down time after time. Emma did feel sorry for the teenagers. She wasn’t against supporting animals or the environment, far from it actually, but more often than not the “have you heard about this cause” talk generated a nuisance that could only be avoided by lowering her gaze and crossing the road. There was no time to politely listen to them rattle their practiced speech only to politely decline with the answer that she would think about it. Especially now.

Sounds of a busker infiltrated the buzz of the people around her, of all those conversations held between the commuters or across the phone. The chords played on the battered guitar were familiar, ones she’d definitely heard before, and when the words joined the rest of the music, Emma shook her head with a trace of a smile appearing, feeling foolish that she didn’t figure it out earlier. Wonderwall, of course.

While the street musicians lacked originality vis-a-vis their choice of music (John Lennon, Oasis, Goo Goo Dolls, Radiohead; she’d heard it all a thousand times), most of them did possess a lot of talent. Emma halted more often than not—when she wasn’t in a hurry—to listen to their rendition of some cliché song, giving them whatever spare change she had in her purse or pocket and in return being thanked with a smile.

Honestly, London wasn’t all that bad. Her apartment was shit, yes; there was no point in attempting to gloss over that. It was impossible to hide the mold stains and pretend the ice water squirting out of the defect shower was pleasant and warm. Although her landlord was of that opinion somehow; anything to get him out of spending time and effort to fix some bothersome issues he’d rather ignore. The jackass.

She didn’t have any friends after moving here, yes, that was true too. But she could handle being alone, she was quite experienced with loneliness and independence, had learned to be resourceful and creative every time she lacked an extra pair of hands, an additional set of eyes or simply some new company.

The city wasn’t all that great either, but Emma could think of worse places to be. New York, for one, where the large crowds only resulted in chaos; a heavily-polluted, siren-screeching mess. London, however, seemed more structured to Emma. The perfect place to be undercover, to blend into the masses and only reappear when she felt like it all the while still retaining a sense of overview. And for what her job consisted of, that trait was necessary and ideal.

It had taken a while to grow accustomed to the British manners, the overabundance of pet names (she had to keep herself from answering “I’m not your love” everytime she got called some sort of variation), to everything basically. From the way they ordered food to the way their traffic was directed—god, she’s never been so afraid for people riding a bike as she was for the cyclists risking their lives between the swerving and honking cars.

It had been a struggle to not be the American amongst Brits and to not ooze her Americanness in the way she moved and the way she looked. It had taken a combination of observing and adapting, but now, Emma was sure she appeared as any other London goer. One last disclosure was the moment she would open her mouth and began talking in an accent that could not be interpreted as anything but American. Luckily for her, however, she was never the socializing type so she was able to restrict unnecessary communication to a minimum. Yay for being a loner.

She scanned the crowded bridge before her again, adjusting the camera around her neck. Its synthetic band was uncomfortably chafing against the skin of her neck, turning it raw and itchy. In a soothing manner, her hand massaged the dry patch of skin, but to no avail. She had to stop thinking about it, the irritation would only get worse.

A distraction presented itself and Emma let out a relieved sigh when she obtained a visual confirmation that the selfie-taking girl had not ruined everything. It had taken her more than a week to figure the whole situation out, to know where she should be and at what time. The shortcuts she was supposed to take were etched into her mind, a detailed treasure map with a moving X. Left here, two blocks ahead another left, she could almost do it with her eyes closed—if it weren’t for the other people.

If anyone ever asked her what her dream job was, her answer wouldn’t be traipsing around London by foot, but she’d made the choice for this profession a long time ago—after she’d been beaten up as a bail bonds person far too often—and it had stuck. She was good at what she did and after a couple of jobs, her reputation began to precede her. Offers came from left and right, giving her a wide array of choices and letting her be picky, a luxury she could not afford when she was younger. It helped her to be able to fly to another continent and pay way too much for her shit apartment.

The move here was a bit radical, almost crazy, but she’d been asked and she was never one to pass up on a good work opportunity. Her ties back in America weren’t deeply rooted. They could easily be yanked out to start afresh and even though she’d had some mournful and aghast responses to her news, all of her friends knew her enough to have prepared for this situation. They had always kept an eye open for the impending moment, the sudden flash when Emma would get sick of the suburban life and would want a whole one-eighty. The whole picket fence life… well, she wasn’t there yet and doubted she ever would.

She’d come back eventually; this job wasn’t going to take years of her life, but there was no haste either. She would return home with a new experience and some new stories under her belt. No new friends; Emma wasn’t idealistic enough to expect herself to suddenly gain friends. Nor was she social enough; the only things she did were work and return home.

Every day, she took the same route, she visited the same places. The coffee shop across the street that had the surly-looking barista but had the best price-quality ratio. The laundromat two blocks over that didn’t communicate their closing hours clearly enough and had automatically locked Emma inside when she’d noticed at 9.49 pm that she had no clean underwear anymore. The night shop that provided Emma with midnight snacks and drinks and its joyful owner who always gave her a discount. Places with people, but none she spoke more words than hello, bye and thank you to.

It had taken her years to gather and open up to the people she frequently came across back in Boston: the girl with the pixie cut who lived in 2A, her sandy-haired boyfriend, the owner of the diner Emma ate at every Monday morning, the martial arts coach at the gym she used to work out at until she was sweaty and exhausted. Years of coaxing on their part, asking her in the hallway, in the locker room, mid-breakfast to hang out, only to be met by her immediate refusal. Years of learning to trust.

Honestly, she was grateful they never stopped trying, never let being cast off by the solid brick walls surrounding her deter them. They saw something in her—Zeus knows what exactly that was—and wanted to include her, let her enter their little but tight-knit circle of people when they barely knew her. Their only reasoning was that “she looked like she could use some company”, a direct quote from the circle’s mother, Mary Margaret, also known as 2A’s pixie cut.

Emma subtly curled her lips and closed her eyes as she thought back to the people back home, momentarily basking in the warm feeling that settled inside of her. But this wasn’t the time to be sentimental, she could save that for another time, one where she was preferably alone and not working. She continued to maneuver around, opening and lifting her eyes to gain sight of her target anew. The mop of black hair was about 20 yards in front of her, still moving at a steady pace.

She lifted the camera with care to avoid hurting her already damaged skin even more and held it before her face. Closing her left eye to exclude any form of distraction, her right focused on the tiny image before her. The image was still blurry and after a couple of heartbeats, it became clear, the perfect quality for Emma to press the button. The shutter clicked fast, a set of successive images following quickly, flashing along.

After a quick check of her material and a nod, showing her satisfaction with the results, she let the camera drop again, the device bumping against her stomach a couple of times before steadying and adjusting to her fast steps. He was moving fast so she had to as well.

There were white earbuds dangling from his ears, his head softly bobbing along to the beat of the song reverberating in his ears. He was entranced in his own little world, with a personal soundtrack to which he moved and acted and that drowned out the bustle of the city.

She was curious about what he was listening to, what music was worthy of the honor of being added to his playlist and blasted into his ears every morning. Was he a rock listener? Classical music connoisseur? Did he have a penchant for sappy love songs à la Ed Sheeran that he would then emotionally sing along to? Was he as original in creating his playlists as the buskers that were scattered in subway stations and on street corners? Emma supposed it wouldn’t take her too long to figure it out, to figure him out, all the way to the final details of his being and character.

For not being a people person, she prided herself on being able to read people quite well.

The spring sun shone brightly and without encumbrance, hitting her skin directly and causing small beads of sweat to gather at her temples and a thin layer on her upper lip, which Emma rapidly wiped away. The clothes she was wearing—a thick woolen sweater and jeans—were unfit for this weather. It was as though it were the heart of August and not the blossoming beginning of April in a country where winter had only just ceded its powers. Emma wished—fervently—she had known that this morning. She also wished she had thought about layers. Their power could not be underestimated. They were the way of life here.

But the white fabric stuck to her skin, the sweat not helping at all, and slowed her movements down as she attempted to quicken her pace. She was losing track of the nape, the mess of hair she was pursuing. The stress found its way to her head, making Emma’s heart pick up pace as well. Her steps quickened on the concrete, the tap tap occasionally interrupted by a rasp of shoes on the underground when she turned a sharp corner and braked. Her steady breathing was turning into a pant, proving to Emma it was definitely time to renew her gym membership. Being a PI might be less physical and consist of less running, fighting, avoiding danger etc. than a bail bonds person's curriculum but that did not mean she was allowed to slouch. Not if she was doing this.

She squeezed herself between a group of tourists, much to the dismay of said tourists who indignantly addressed her in Spanish. Not that she would understand what words they were using in their complaints, her high school Spanish had withered to a dead plant after not being watered and nourished for years. Emma hastened to reach the leader, using the woman’s Spanish flag as a guide to reach the end of the troop and to be able to pass her. With her camera clutched tightly, held close to not bestow any additional hindrance, she zigzagged, ducking and swerving as she seemed fit. After a minute or so—though it felt like a lifetime—she re-emerged from the group, some more Spanish thrown her way, frantically looking for him.

Shit, where did he go?

While before it was like a ray of light lit him up, pointing out where he walked in the crowd, now there was only darkness. An unlit maze without any sort of red thread, a challenge she had no idea how to tackle. The metaphorical target on his back had vanished. Hundreds of dark-haired people, dozens of earbuds, not the one Emma needed.

She needed him, with his leather bag, the pirate necklace around his neck, the tattoo on his right upper arm, with those elven ears Emma was so fascinated by but would never admit to anyone that she was.

What was he doing?

Right, three streets, right again, left until the lights.

That was what the GPS embedded into her brain told her was his route; that was what he always did on Saturday afternoon.

So why wasn’t he standing before the red glowing traffic light?

He had a routine he followed almost meticulously. A creature of extreme habit, that was what he was. Emma had to buy herself a watch to be able to know what time it was at every second and not have to bother with retrieving her phone from her pocket every time, losing precious seconds. She used the simple watch on her wrist to follow his movements, needed it on every occasion. There were not a lot of people she had met before who were this exact, who left their apartment when the clock stroke precisely eight, who re-entered their apartment at 17:23 time and time again, regardless of the weather, day or season.

This was not like him.

Emma peered over her shoulder as she took a right, the sudden movement making her hair whip, attempting to look through the masses to double check if he surely hadn’t taken the left turn like usual, but there was no trace of him. Or his unique ears.

Right as she turned her head back, in what felt like a blink of an eye, there was something right in front of her. Someone. Emma attempted to decelerate and stop but the distance was too small to do so, her body still in motion. She braced for the shock, the crash of two moving objects together, her body meeting another solid mass and flinched to prepare for the pain to hit her but there were two hands that softened the blow, that settled on both of her upper arms, one warm and one cold.

Emma didn’t dare to open her eyes, eyelids still squeezed shut. Until the someone she almost hit, but didn’t because they were paying attention while she was focused on other things, cleared their throat, an attempt to capture Emma’s attention and most likely to prompt her to open her eyes again instead of standing there like a scared little child.

Biting the inside of her lip, Emma slowly peeled her eyes open, letting them first adjust to the light again and then scan her direct surroundings. She was staring at a chest. A man’s chest. There were earbuds dangling from his grey Henley, a trace of chest hair peeking out the top and a silver chain around his neck. An odd feeling of apprehension plagued her, heartbeat lodged in her throat, as her eyes hesitantly traveled upwards, in search of a face, of some point of recognition who this mysterious stranger-slash-savior was.

Blue eyes stared into hers.

Familiar blue eyes.

“Can I help you, lass?” he asked and while this was the first time she had heard him speak, the cadence, the accent, the voice—his voice—felt familiar. As if she’d spent hours upon hours listening to it, talking to him. She could almost imagine how his voice would sound in a laugh, how it would change when he was tired, the accent thick and present, how it would caress in a whisper.

It felt as if she knew him.

Which she did.

But also didn’t.

Because this was Killian Jones.

The man she was hired to spy on.

The man who was holding her and staring at her with expectant eyes.

Fuck.

——————————

For the next couple of months, you can expect an update every Thursday! I hope you enjoyed!

#cs ff #csbb #captain swan #captain swan big bang #cs au #my words and sentences #AMHoG

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spycethra · 6 years

Text

Title: Love Hack (Part 1)

Pairing: Gavin Reed x RK-900

Relationship Level: Dating for over a year / A bit rocky

Rating: Fluff

Story Summary: RK-900 gets hacked and loses his normal inhibitions. In turn, he’s become far more jealous and lovey dovey than ever and ironically more humanlike. But with only a few hours to experience this unbelievable version of the investigator, what’s Gavin to do after RK-900 resets back to his normal composed self?

Chapter Summary: Mission -> Survive the Coffeeshop Date

Gavin Reed did not know what to do.

He sat at a table of a local corner coffee shop with a scowling RK-900 seated just across from him. He’d been that way for nearly twenty minutes now. Normally the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee beans was enough to keep anyone upbeat.

But it was damn a shame that same effect didn’t manage to roll over to androids.

Richard tapped indignantly at the table’s slightly sticky surface with his index finger, appearing absolutely incensed.

“You know why we can’t go back to the office today.”

“No. Quite frankly, I don’t.”

Gavin stared at his partner in exasperation to which the android gave a conceding growl before resting his chin in his palm, still on the lookout for god knows what. It was like having a snarling pure breed that was utterly nettled by anyone (and anything) that wasn’t the man sitting across from him.

“Fine. By your horribly flawed human logic,” Richard began, sounding more vexed than ever as he proceeded to recollect the details for disaster of that very morning, “the department assumed that some amateur coder managed to successfully compromise the integrity of my programming.”

RK-900 placed his hand over his own chest with great emphasis for his state of the art configuration - still years ahead of all the rest.

“I am the RK-900, Reed. Top of the line of my series, equipped with enough security measures that with the very power to topple even the most ardent of minds. Through utilizing the Cephilax Firewall 22-78-3SR...”

And then the act of tuning out all the techno babble began…

Gavin did well not to roll his eyes as he instead just pursed his lips into a thin line, trying hard not to fall for old habits by needling the android. RK-900 just left himself so wide open that it was hard to resist teasing him. Instead, he nodded at all the right moments, allowing the android his moment to rant away his problems and boast of his higher tier qualities all at the same time.

It was what a good boyfriend would do, right?

But as far as the detective was concerned, the RK unit could keep defending himself until he was blue in the face, they still weren’t going back to the office.

“Does this crude summary seem accurate, detective? I have far more advanced capabilities to speak of but after analyzing the amount of time it would take to verbalize each and every one to you, it would appear the work day would be over,” Richard concluded with a little less edge in his voice than before.

Gavin mentally winced at the mention of work. RK-900 was still under the impression that they’d be going back.

“Richard, there’s no way I’m taking you back today.”

The android visibly stiffened, sitting straighter than before with his arms crossed in front of him as though he were suddenly on trial.

“Do I have to repeat myself, Reed? I already gave you conclusive evidence that I am operating at optimal capacity.”

This isn’t getting us anywhere. I have to be direct with him… Gavin thought, trying to keep things as cool as they could be.

He’d already witnessed what happened if RK-900’s stress levels increased a little over half.

And it wasn’t pretty. Hell, it got them kicked out of the station for the remainder of the day.

Fowler’s orders.

But Gavin wasn’t so much of a jerk as to torture his partner with that information. Richard was staunchly dedicated to maintaining an unblemished record.

Taking a breath, Gavin’s stone grey eyes flew up to meet with the sharpness of arctic blue. He tried staring back about understandingly as an asshole like him could for someone he actually gave a damn about. Not that he could hold the stare for very long.

It was terrifying how well Richard’s eyes seemed to dig into him so well. Averting his gaze, Gavin nervously interlaced his fingers together, a cheap attempt at buying time, while leaning forward with a small rise in heartbeat. It wasn’t even that warm in the cafe and yet beads of perspiration were already beginning to form along the contour of his neck.

Relax. This’ll either go really well… or with Richard throwing me through this very nice display window. He carefully eyed the android with a weak smile… who provided none in return.

Well, if I’m lucky and he hurls me far enough, a speeding driver might end all of my troubles for me right then and there. ...Considering that the RK-900 series doesn’t have the capacity to resuscitate the dead.

Gavin slowly raised his head again to his now glaring partner, whose neck and shoulders had tightened with considerable impatience.

“Reed.”

Fuck. Moment of truth.

“Rich... You, uh, you do remember putting Connor’s chair through the wall, right?” He reminded the android carefully, while making note of RK-900’s every move.

Fortunately, the RK unit merely narrowed his eyes as though insulted by the memory.

“...It wasn’t even a very good chair anyway. It made all sorts of infernal noises when I was used it,” he argued flippantly.

“...Before or after you broke it clean in half?”

Gavin quickly raised his hands in deference after practically feeling the slicing movement of RK-900’s frozen stare. The robotic investigator’s hands were balling in fists just between them atop the flimsy wooden tabletop. One strike from the overpowered cop and it would no doubt become kindling.

“J-Just getting the details, Nines. It was actually pretty impressive that you did that with just your bare hands. You know, if you ask me,” the detective added anxiously while keeping a very close eye on his partner’s hands.

The remark seemed to settle the matter for the moment, but android was still shifting awkwardly on the ridiculously uncomfortable stool. Why did coffee joints insist on keeping these terrible things? Gavin almost wondered if he might toss it through a wall too...

“It doesn’t matter. I said it was in poor condition. I merely… emphasized its natural state.”

“Of... being trash?” Gavin offered perplexedly, not entirely following if RK-900 was making a joke or just acting childish.

“Why are you on his side?” came the cryptic question that sent a fresh bead of sweat gliding down the detective’s throat.

“Ah… I don’t really know what you’re referring to-”

“Oh hey fellas!” The peppy barista had suddenly arrived in her green apron and cherry lipsticked smile, both highly unwelcome considering RK-900’s frightfully intolerable mood.

His sharp cold gaze flicked to her, seeming to size her up, before returning back to Gavin with an inscrutable countenance that left his partner uneasy.

Please don’t hit this girl, Nines… Gavin pleaded the android mentally despite knowing the other couldn’t hear him.

Somehow she failed to notice the thick tension entirely as she removed a coffee cup labeled ‘Gavin’ from the tray she was carrying, handing it personally to the detective. He struggled to provide a friendly smile back but upon feeling the death glare directed straight for him, he immediately gave up .

“Here you goooo, Gavin! I hope you enjoy it, sweetie!” she chirped cheerily while purposefully brushing their fingers together with a final decisive wink that he prayed didn’t just put him in his grave.

“A-Ah, yeah. Thanks.”

The girl was barely gone when Gavin felt a bone crushing grip atop his hand, squeezing ever so slowly like an anaconda with a cold vendetta. He could almost swear he could hear violins trilling his never ending misery in the background.

“Nnnnrggh… N-Nine… What-” He started to yell but quickly bit his tongue.

Gavin could barely say anything without instinctively screaming at the insane android to get the fuck off him. But he knew that this wasn’t RK-900’s fault. Yelling wasn’t going to fix anything. This just wasn’t Richard’s doing.

He wasn’t in control.

His mind flicked back to roboticist tech’s debriefing just before Fowler gave the order.

“Detective Reed, please bear in mind that though Richard may mostly act normal, his inhibitor locks have been… Well, to make it easy to understand, he’s going to be irrational and far more sensitive than you are accustomed to. Situations normally addressed with calm reason will instead be handled haphazardly on the first whim. ...Please be careful.”

They explained that the hacking was committed by a disgruntled employee; and even those idiots at Cyberlife were still debugging the RK mainframe, they had said it might take till long into the evening before effects could be taken care of.

...But a whole nine hours of this felt like it was going to be a very, very long time.

“R-Rich… Pain. Lots. Of pain,” Gavin ground out as tolerantly as he possibly could through the amount of duress his android was hurling at him in broad fucking daylight.

Long story short.

“Who is she to you?”

Oh my god. Gavin’s mind groaned as he tried not to make any further eye contact. If he did, he knew that he was done for.

The hacker somehow made his partner into an obsessively jealous highschooler.

And he found this notion to both as equally terrifying as he found absolutely hilarious.

And his sick sense of humor was probably going to get him killed as he kept his lips tightly pursed as humanly possible to keep from laughing.

“Reed, don’t you dare lie to me. I saw your fingers touch. Did you enjoy that? Were they soft and filled with tender memories of your boyhood?” RK-900 accused bitingly.

Gavin bit his lip so hard that it nearly bled as he vigorously shook his head from side to side.

Don’t feed into it. Doooon’t do it. He warned himself, wanting nothing more than his asshole side to be let loose.

There were so many ways to bother his partner and get a rise out of him that it felt almost impossible to resist.

You’re gonna die. Make a crackshot at any of this, and make no mistake, RK-900 will kill you.

“I don’t. Know. Her,” Gavin barely managed to squeeze out, still containing his need to make light of a terrible situation while his hand was still very much prisoner to the android’s steel grip.

“Really? And how did she know your name?”

What the fuck kind of hacker shit is this!? Holy shit... This isn’t fair. Gavin felt his mouth fall open, absolutely stunned by the insane question. If only I could pull out my phone right now. Richard isn’t gonna believe any of this shit when I tell him.

The employees of Cyberlife may have also mentioned that the RK unit was going to have a soft reset which would return him back to yesterday’s state, but it would also erringly erase the dozen hours of pure gold from his memory.

“Rich,” Gavin started, trying so very hard not to say anything stupid, “Rich, you were standing right next to me when she asked me for it. You know, when she needed a name for when I ordered this coffee?”

“A likely story.”

No fucking way.

Obviously, Richard wasn’t convinced and his hand squeezed even tighter, causing Gavin to cry out but immediately muffle the sound into his arm. Okay, this wasn’t as funny as he’d thought. His squeezing was threatening to crush the detective’s knuckles into dust.

“Tell me why she’s so familiar with you. Tell me or you can consider learning how to live the rest of your life left handed.”

“H-Hey, better idea! H-how about we do that thing I said we shouldn’t do because I am an idiot and you are obviously the smarter one,” Gavin offered desperately while trying to sound as normal as possible amidst contorting from the immense pain.

In an instant, the hold loosened. As if having never happened in the first place, the android’s once ruthless touch suddenly became more gentle and affectionate as he caressed the back of Gavin’s poor hand with a tenderness only a shy girlfriend would do.

He looked up to find RK-900 smiling bright and the image nearly gave him a heart attack.

“Do you mean it, Reed? You’ll hold hands with me as we walk home together?”

Home was over a two hour walk away.

But considering how uncharacteristically docile and adorable RK-900 had become on account of the hack… how could he possibly say no?

AN: So it became longer than expected? Sorry, @frog-batter ! But hopefully you enjoy this segment. I like the next bit more though since they’ll both be out and about. So much to interact with! Especially with a jelly robo bf. I hope everyone else enjoyed it too! Let me know if there’s maybe something in particular you’d like to see lovedrunk-RK-900 do and I might incorporate it!

Also, there’s a Connor mention in part 2 (since he is also hacked.) Stay tuned, lovelies! <3

#detroit: become human #detroit become human #dbh rk900 #dbh gavin #gavin reed #rk-900 #reed900 #gavin900 #gavin x rk900 #frog-batter

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