#he did this after he saw me interact so “sweetly” towards other customers in the cafe

[silentgravesdontexist]

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟒: 𝐂𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞, 𝐭𝐞𝐚, 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲

"Welcome home, Ma–"

"Oh, a maid outfit surprisingly suits you."

"...what the hell are you doing here?"

"Now, now...that's no way to treat a customer, is it?"

[lostinthewiind]

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 1

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren't a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner's 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: none

Song → 18 by Anarbor

A/N: if you couldn’t already tell, I have planned this as a series/full story. I was torn between writing it on here or on Wattpad or something, but ultimately decided on Tumblr . . . but let me know if you would prefer it on another platform as well! Also, this series will eventually include smut/NSFW content but that will be tagged appropriately when the time comes. As always, I hope you enjoy. 

Next →Part 2

Slamming the front door behind yourself on your way out that morning, you quickly stuffed your earbuds into your ears and cranked your music as loud as you could to drown out the sounds of your parents yelling after you and, consequently, at one another after you had dropped the bomb about your new job on them seconds before you had left, giving them as little time as possible to shame you for it.

After graduating high school and turning 18, you had decided it was time to take your life into your hands, which wasn’t too easy while you were still living under your parents’ roof, but you had to start somewhere and that somewhere was getting a job at the local corner store, Sakanoshita Market. 

You knew that your parents wanted you to go to university and ‘make something of yourself’, but you also knew that you could never truly be happy under their dictatorship-like ruling, so you decided to get a job, no matter how shitty, save your money, move out as soon as possible, and go from there. 

It was definitely going to be a process, and not an easy one, but all you had to do was take it one step at a time.

Rounding the corner and seeing the market in the distance, you felt your nerves begin to bubble inside of you a little. Sure, you had gotten some part-time jobs here and there during summer vacation before, but you had never gotten a full-time job before and had never needed the money from a job like you did now. Before, the cash you made was for extra spending money during the summer and school year, but now the money you would be making would be funding your future. It seemed like a lot of pressure to put on a job that entailed stocking shelves, checking out customers, and cleaning. 

The lady who had hired you had basically explained that since she was getting older and her son, who had been maintaining the place previously, had gotten a new job, the store needed someone to learn the ropes and take care of the place on a daily basis; and since you were young, a fast learner, and didn’t have anything else in your life besides work, you were a perfect fit. 

As the shop doors slid open smoothly to welcome you into the store you had been inside countless times in the past, you suddenly felt completely out of place in the familiar market. Now that you were an employee instead of a customer, the atmosphere had completely shifted. Instead of heading right for the fridges to grab a drink like you usually did, your eyes shifted immediately to the front counter where a figure with its feet up hid behind an open newspaper.

Just like every other time you had visited while the store owner’s son was working, he did everything humanly possible to avoid interaction. Usually, you would have appreciated not being bothered while trying to scan the shelves, but since this time was different, the lack of acknowledgement was slightly unnerving. 

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat, hoping it was enough to catch his attention. It was not. Instead, he flipped the page of the newspaper and you watched as a hand emerged from behind the paper barrier to flick the ashes from his cigarette into an ashtray sitting beside the register. 

Eyebrows furrowed, you really wished that the shop owner herself had been there to greet you for your first day instead of her seemingly useless son. “Hello.” You stepped up to the counter, the feeling of not belonging sinking deeper into your bones. 

Slowly, the newspaper separating you from the man behind the counter lowered and the shop owner’s son glared back at you, eyes half-lidded as if he were seconds away from falling asleep and the cigarette from before hanging from his bottom lip. This was far from the first time you had interacted with him, but you would be surprised if he remembered you as a customer even a little. Whenever he checked customers out, you could tell he was running on autopilot. 

The man’s eyes drifted down to your hands, which were resting on top of the counter now. Noticing you didn’t have anything to purchase, he cocked a brow. “Need help finding somethin’?” 

“Ugh, no,” you answered. “I’m the new employee. I’m supposed to start today.”

His eyes scanned you once more, this time more thoroughly, and you swallowed hard. Feeling as if you were being observed under a microscope, you slid your hands off of the counter and stuffed them into your pockets self-consciously. 

As he inspected you inch by inch, you took the time to take a closer look at him as well. With dyed blonde hair, two earrings in his left ear, an apparent nicotine addiction, and a noticeably flippant attitude toward his job, he was the definition of the type of man your parents would kill you for bringing home. Somehow, this only made him more intriguing. You wondered if he really was as disinterested in everything as he seemed or if it was just this job he thoroughly hated and became someone a lot more interesting when he wasn’t behind a counter.

“How old are you?” he asked out of the blue, catching you off guard a little. While he waited for you to answer, he set the newspaper to the side, dragged his feet from the counter top, and patted out some of the wrinkles from the white apron he had tied around his bright orange sweatshirt. 

“I’m 18,” you responded, not sure why it mattered but also not seeing any harm in answering honestly. 

Seconds later, the door to the back of the shop and storage room opened and the familiar face of the woman who had hired you stepped into view. “Oh, Y/N!” she greeted happily; much more enthusiastically and welcoming than her son. “Sorry about that, I was just getting some last minute things together.” She eyed her son out of the corner of her eye and noted the fresh embers in the ashtray. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“No, I just got here,” you told her. 

“Good.” She smiled sweetly before turning to her son. “Well, you can head out now, Keishin. Thank you for watching the counter.”

“Yeah,” the man, Keishin, grunted as he untied the apron from around his waist, slipped it over his head, and hung it up on a hook behind the counter. “See ya.”

With that, Keishin left, leaving you and his mother alone. Wasting no time, Mrs. Sakanoshita, whom the store was named after, got right to work on teaching you the basics and gifting you with a white apron of your own to wear while on the job. Since it was the middle of the day and the customer flow was relatively slow, she introduced you to how the register and scanner at the counter worked before moving on to unpacking boxes.

Just like you had promised on your resume and during the interview, you were a quick learner and Mrs. Sakanoshita was more than pleased to see you picking up the job quickly and efficiently. 

By the time the after work/school rush of patrons picking up items on their way home had begun, you were feeling confident in your abilities and, with your boss by your side to answer any questions you may have, you checked out customer after customer, building up muscle memory for scanning items, collecting cash, opening the register, handing out receipts, and sending customers on their merry way. 

All in all, the job was quickly growing on you. You liked the fact that, for the most part, you were the only employee on duty, so when there weren’t any customers in the store, you could work silently on unpacking boxes without having to worry about making small talk or being friendly with any coworkers. In fact, as far as you knew, the only people who worked at the store at all were you, Mrs. Sakanoshita, and her son, Keishin. 

It seemed as though you had really landed a sweet gig. 

After showing you how to lock up, Mrs. Sakanoshita headed home for the night, leaving you to finish stocking the shelves and cleaning the shop before you would head home as well.

Now that you were truly the only person left, you walked over to the old radio you had spotted on the counter during training that day and fiddled with the dials, trying to get some music playing to accompany you during your evening chores. After some careful handiwork and enduring some horrendous static and high-pitched screeching while searching for a station, you settled on what sounded like some old instrumental music and got to work on stocking the remaining shelves.

Throughout your shift, you quickly learned that the store got quite warm during the day and you had needed to tie your hair up to keep the back of your neck from dripping with sweat. The night wasn’t much better either, especially since the lack of customers so late meant that the doors rarely opened, keeping the cold night air outside and the warm store air inside. 

After finishing the last box of supplies, you exhaled and wiped your brow. You were exhausted, that was for sure, but you still had to sweep. 

Deciding to take a quick break, you turned toward the floor-to-ceiling fridges at the back of the shop and pulled open the door, sighing happily when the cool air hit your skin. Exhaling slowly, you snickered when you saw your breath fog up in front of you face. 

“You’re letting all the cold air out.”

You shrieked when you heard a voice in your right ear and slammed the fridge door shut, jumping back in the process. Thanks to the music from the radio and the loud hum of the generator that kept the fridges cold, you hadn’t heard the front doors slide open or the footsteps of Keishin approaching you.

“Jesus!” You clamped your hand over your chest. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Sorry?”

“What are you doing here?”

Keishin glared at you. “You work here one day and suddenly act like you own the place?”

Realizing how rude your question had come across, you composed yourself and rephrased. “What I meant was, your mom didn’t say you were coming back.”

Pointing upward, Keishin sighed, disinterested. “I live in the apartment above the shop.”

“Oh.” Things started making much more sense and you suddenly felt pretty embarrassed for how you had reacted. 

“Yeah . . . oh.” He rolled his eyes, but it didn’t come across necessarily rude but more like he was exhausted and you were adding to said exhaustion. “Why were you standing with the door open anyway?”

As he spoke, he stepped toward you. At first, your feet felt cemented to the floor and you didn’t move. But when he persisted closer, you eventually stumbled back and Keishin opened the fridge door you had been standing in front of to grab a beer from inside. With drink in hand, he eyed you once again, waiting for an answer.

“It’s really hot,” you said, gesturing to his orange sweater. “I don’t know how you wear that thing in here.”

Looking down at his apparel, he just shrugged. “You’ll get used to it.” He turned and started for the counter, presumably to pay for the drink he had just taken. “In the future, stand outside if you’re warm.”

“Okay.” You nodded, mindlessly tailing him. You had to grab the broom from behind the counter anyway, but that was the furthest thing from the front of your mind at that moment. If anything, you were still trying to calm down a little from being startled and now being alone with your boss’s son. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He popped the tab on the beer, settled into the stool behind the counter, and downed at least half of the drink in a few large gulps. 

You watched him, probably a little too closely, and as you did you found yourself reexamining the features you had taken note of earlier that day: the dyed blonde hair held out of his face with a thin black headband, the natural brown hair that peeked out from the roots, the two small silver hoop earrings in his left ear, the scent of cigarette smoke that clung to him like how the smell of rain clung to the air after a heavy storm. 

Noticing your gaze, which would have been nearly impossible to miss, Keishin quirked a brow at you and held out the can of beer toward you. “You want a sip?”

Startled from your thoughts, you shook your head. “I’m only 18.” You reminded him.

“Oh, right.” He withdrew the can and took another sip, this one much smaller than the first few. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”

Eyes wide, you thought quick to come up with an excuse. “The broom.” You pointed to the item behind him. “Can you pass me the broom?”

After handing you the broom, Keishin pulled a slip of paper and a pen out from his pocket and started writing and scribbling things down, sipping the remainder of his beer occasionally and ignoring you completely. 

Trying to avoid staring at Keishin anymore than you already had, you started sweeping at the far end of the store and left the area around and behind the counter for last. Eventually, though, you had worked your way back over to the the silent man and was forced to clean the floor behind where he was sitting, trying hard not to disturb him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of what he was so focused on; it looked like a crude drawing of a volleyball court. “What’s that?” you asked, the words leaving your mouth before you realized you were being rude again and snooping.

Keishin, however, didn’t seem angry or annoyed in the slightest. “Volleyball positions,” he huffed. It was clear he was growing frustrated.

“You play volleyball?”

He shook his head and looked over his shoulder at you. “I used to. Now I coach the boy’s team at Karasuno.”

“I went to Karasuno,” you said mindlessly, just trying to make conversation at that point. 

He hummed in response and turned his attention back to the sheet before him. “Did you play volleyball?”

“No. Soccer.”

“Do you still play?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Do you still play volleyball?”

“With a neighbourhood association sometimes . . . but not really.”

“Why?”

The corners of his mouth curling up into a smirk, Keishin looked back to you once more. “I asked you first.”

“It’s not a good answer.” You leaned against the broom handle and sighed. “Don’t have the time.”

“You’re young and just graduated high school. You’ve got nothing but time.”

“Not with this job.”

Keishin scoffed, folded the paper, and shoved it back into his pocket with the pen. “Speaking of which, why would you take such a boring job at a store like this?”

You just shrugged. “I need the money.”

“Don’t you live with your parents?”

“That’s the problem,” you said, noticing the confusion on his face. “I told you it wasn’t a good answer.”

“Do they know you work here?”

“Do they know? Yes,” you answered truthfully. “Do they like it? Absolutely not.”

Keishin grinned at that before finishing his beer and tossing the empty can into the recycling bin beside the front door. “So you’re one of those teens, huh?”

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Trust me, kid, pissing off your parents just for the sake of it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“You think I’m doing all this just because I can?”

“Aren’t you?”

“No.”

“Why then?”

“That story’s too long and convoluted for me to recite right now . . . especially to some old dude I just met today.”

Keishin chuckled under his breath, hands stuffed into his pockets as he headed for the door at the back of the shop so he could head upstairs to his apartment. “’Old dude’,” he repeated, clearly amused. “Don’t forget to lock up before you go home.”

As he turned his back to you, your curiosity got the better of you. “How old are you?”

Stopping in his tracks, Keishin pulled out a carton of cigarettes from his pants’ pocket along with a lighter. After placing the smoke between his lips, he lit it and inhaled deeply. “Too old for you, sweetheart,” he spoke while exhaling, smoke spilling from his lips as he smirked at you. 

With that, he disappeared into the back. You wanted to shout after him that you had told him how old you were without hesitation when he had asked, but you stayed silent instead. 

As much as his presence unnerved you and his superiority complex aggravated you, you still found yourself inexplicably drawn to him. Maybe it was because he seemed completely disinterested in you, or maybe it was because he was everything you were always told to stay away from. 

The one thing you did know, however, was that if everyone around you was going to keep trying to convince you they knew how you should live your life better than you did, you were going to prove to them just how they wrong they were one way or another. 

[theweasleysredhair]

Naughty or Nice [F.W.]

Character: Fred Weasley

Word Count: 3224

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: Fred likes it when his girlfriend dresses up for the festive season.

WARNING: this is NSFW, 18+, smutty, sexy times, idk how else to say it. pls don’t read if you’re a minor. including oral (male and female receiving), bondage, fred being hot, fred being dom

Tags: @gracemayhateyou @acciotwinz @rexorangecouny @mischi3f-manag3d @twinkyjohnson @immobulusmalfoy @hufflrpuffforfred @whiz-bangs78 @heart-of-tempered-steel @vivianweasley @harrysweasleys @ickle-ronniekins

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: so this is for @wand3ringr0s3 ‘s writing challenge (prompt: “shut up and strip.”) from what feels like about 3 years ago (ily haley ❤️). i’m a couple days late for christmas but it’s still the holiday season so i hope you all enjoy this festive fic!! also side note,, this fic was and is the bane of my existence, i hate it, hated writing it, and hate that it took me so long to actually finish it. but other than that, i hope you guys like it more than i do!

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

The joke shop had been getting busier and busier over the last month and half, with parents on a mission to find Christmas presents for their children, and with more of the Wizard Wheezes products being added to Christmas lists every day, this meant that the store often had a queue forming before opening time, and, more times than not, the twins had had to stay open late, with customers still deciding between products, or people running in a few seconds before closing to quickly pick up their last few bits.

With nonstop talking and interacting all day, Fred arrived home exhausted, hair messy from where he’d ran his hands through it one too many times, tie skewed and the bags under his eyes getting darker as the days went on. All he really wanted, he decided as he hung his jacket on the rack and kicked his shoes off, was some food, and a long warm shower - preferably with you joining him.

“Love?” He called out as he stepped into the living room. He sifted through the mail that had been left on the coffee table, frowning when he didn’t hear a response. He dropped the letters, finding nothing but bills there, undoing his top button and loosening his collar as he headed towards your bedroom - perhaps you were in there.

“Y/n?”

There was a loud thud, as if someone had tripped over, followed by you letting out a string of curses, “I’m in the bedroom but-“

Fred headed over to the door, worried, wondering what you were doing when he heard you add on quickly, “I’ve got a surprise for you!”

“A surprise?”

Fred reached for the door handle, intent on opening the door when he heard you shriek, “Don’t come in! I won’t be a moment, wait out there!”

“Fine,” he grumbled, stepping away from the door and bringing his hands up to undo his tie, throwing it onto the nearest cabinet top. That’s when you emerged from your shared room, leaning against the doorway and winking at him, watching happily as he froze, eyes raking down your body, mouth open in a slack ‘o’.

“Surprise,” you practically sang out, posing for him with a thigh bent, watching as his gaze drifted from your chest, to your hips and thighs, before travelling down your legs.

You wore a see-through red baby doll, the cleavage outlined in white feathers, with open cups, though they were covered - barely - by a satin bow that, with a simple pull, would reveal your chest to Fred. Paired with a matching red string thong, red stiletto heels and your lips coloured a perfect same shade of crimson, you knew it would drive Fred wild - a treat after a long day’s work.

“Fuck- c’mere,” was all Fred could manage to stutter out, before his hands were on your waist, pulling you into a rough, desperate kiss, one he’d been looking forward to all day. The feel of your soft lips on his nearly made him groan out against you and as he felt your heel slowly move up his leg and then back down again, he felt himself twitch in his boxers, eager to rip your lingerie off of you.

He pressed you against the doorframe, his chest against yours as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, fingertips digging into the soft skin your thigh as he pushed himself between your legs, grinding his hips against yours, you letting out a breathy moan as his trousers brushed against the thin material of your underwear, a jolt of pleasure shooting through you and making him smirk against your lips.

He pulled back a little, groaning and dropping his head back as he caught sight of your messy hair and swollen lips, lipstick smudged from where he’d kissed you.

“Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?” He spoke softly, eyes staring down at you lovingly.

“All the time. But it’s nice to hear it, especially from you,” you leaned up, brushing your lips softly against his as you began to undo his shirt buttons.

“Can’t believe you dressed up for me,” he murmured, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as his fingers danced across the bow covering your chest, his other hand gripped your lace covered hip. He moved to press kisses against the exposed skin of your neck, trailing kisses slowly in the direction back to your mouth.

“I’m all festive and you’re not,” you pouted, your arms around his neck as his hands moved to grip your hips, pulling you further against him. Fred hummed disinterestedly, much more focused on the way his tongue was moving down your jaw.

“If it means that much to you, I’ll wear a Santa hat,” he mumbled, sucking the skin just under your ear, the place he knew made you shiver and moan out.

“You could dress up as Santa,” you suggested with breathy laugh, your hands gripping onto his broad shoulders through his shirt, before gasping a little as his teeth nipped against the skin of your neck.

“I’ll dress up as a fucking reindeer as long as you let me touch you within the next few minutes,” his hand wandered under the transparent netting of the babydoll, fingers toying at the waistband of your underwear, moving to sneak his hand lower, “Better yet, let me rip this off you.”

“Hmm I don’t know... I quite like this set,” you feigned contemplation, pulling away from him for a moment and innocently glancing down at the red satin bow that barely covered your chest, “Besides, if you rip it off me, I won’t be able to strip for you.”

Fred’s pupils blew wide as he ran a hand up and down your side, “You gonna strip for me?”

“I might,” you smiled sweetly up at him, feeling his grip on you tighten a little.

“You better.”

His lips pushed against yours again as he walked you backwards into the room, holding you against him as he pressed his hips against your thigh, allowing you to feel him, already hard and straining against the material of his trousers.

With a little manoeuvring, Fred managed to kick said trousers off without pulling away from the kiss, instead deepening it as he angled his head and held the side of your jaw, half his hand brushing against your neck.

You were breathing heavy when you pulled away for air, taking a moment to head over to the radio to turn some mood music on. You smiled to yourself as you purposely bent over the cabinet a little, hearing an intake of breath from behind you, and jumping when you felt a hand squeeze your bum. You leant back into Fred’s touch, his hand still holding your bum as he whispered, warm breath hitting your ear, “Naughty girl.”

His tongue ran along the outer shell of your ear as you pushed your bum back against him, causing him to groan and spin you around quickly to face him again.

He brought his thumb up to your bottom lip, gently ghosting over it with a light touch. He was about to lean forward to kiss you again when you gave him a gently push, causing him to fall back on the bed, eyes wide in surprise, “What-“

You smirked at him, pressing a button on the radio and allowing the sultry melody to play out into the room. Fred kicked his boxers off quickly, his cock hitting his stomach and you licked across your bottom lip, knowing his eyes were on you.

He sat up at the edge of the bed, now only wearing his unbuttoned shirt, legs wide, watching you spin round for him, showing him just how little skin the thong covered, the baby doll transparent and showing all. He groaned, a hand wrapping round his cock as he started stroking himself as his eyes travelled over your body with such intensity that you felt warm all over.

You paused your movements for a moment, turning to look at him. “You know, if you gave me a couple minutes, I reckon I could find a decent Santa hat for you...” you teased, smiling as he rolled his eyes at you.

“Just shut up and strip for me,” Fred practically growled out and your eyes widened a little, the deepness of his voice hitting you straight between your legs and you bit your lip, fingers toying at your waistband as you slowly pulled them down just a couple of centimetres, before putting them back in place, causing him to groan.

His mouth opened as if he were about to tell you off again, when suddenly, with one movement, you pulled at the end of the bow, allowing the satin to fall to the side, showing Fred the open cups of the lingerie.

His jaw dropped, abs clenching as he stared at your chest. “Shit- princess-“ he breathed out.

You noticed his hand moving faster and reached into your own underwear, fingers gently moving against yourself as you played with the hem of the babydoll, pulling it up so the skin of your hips and stomach were now on full show. You closed your eyes, mouth falling open a little and you heard Fred groan, cursing as he watched you.

It was just for a few seconds, before you pulled your hand out, taking a step closer to Fred. You were about to kick your heels off when he shook his head at you firmly, “Keep the heels on.”

You raised an eyebrow but nodded nonetheless, “Yes sir.”

Even with the lack of light in the room, and the distance between you, you swore you saw his eyes darken, even more so as you moved even closer to him, hands moving behind you to unclip the babydoll, before heading to your shoulders where your straps sat. You winked before pulling the straps down your arms, allowing the lingerie to fall in a pool at your feet.

You lifted it with one stiletto, a strap hooking onto the heel and you were about to kick it away when Fred suddenly stood up, grabbing your raised thigh and wrapping it around his waist, pulling the babydoll from your heel and dropping it to the floor.

“Enough of that, need to touch you baby girl,” he groaned, his nails digging into your skin lightly as he held you against him.

“But I didn’t finish,” you pouted, looking at him through your eyelashes. He thrust his hips against yours suddenly making you whimper out.

“Keep complaining and you won’t finish at all, got that princess?” He warned, before spinning you round and pushing you back onto the bed, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as he enjoyed the sight of you in just your red thong and heels.

“I said, got that princess?” He repeated, his voice lower, firmer.

You breathed out a small ‘yes’ just as he moved to climb on top of you, immediately pressing his lips against yours again. “Good girl,” he mumbled as your arms move to wrap around his neck, his arms either side of your head as he pushed himself against you, pressing as much skin to yours as possible.

His tongue slipped into your mouth again as he rocked his hips against yours, creating just a little friction where you needed him, and you whispered out a ‘please’, though you weren’t sure exactly what you were asking for.

Fred seemed to have an idea however, as he kissed down your jaw, across your neck and continuing on, stopping briefly to suck on the skin of your clavicle before moving further down to your breasts, pulling a nipple into his mouth as his tongue played with it softly, causing you to breathe out happily, your hands dancing through his hair as he moved to the other.

He then moved on, leaving marks across your ribs, stomach and hips, before reaching the waistband of your underwear. Without warning, he suddenly ripped them from you, and you gasped as the cool air hit you.

He pressed soft kisses to your inner thighs, before licking his thumb and pressing against your clit, tracing circles and watching as your hips jolted from the sudden pleasure. As quickly as he started, he stopped, causing you to whine out, reaching down with your own hand to touch yourself.

Fred narrowed his eyes and gripped your wrist before you could. “Trying to touch yourself?” He tutted, “You know that’s my job.”

He pulled away for a moment in search of something, reaching into a draw beside the bed. You wondered what he was doing when he caught your eyes and smirked, and then you felt a cool metal hit your wrist, your arm being pulled up as he threaded the chain behind and around one of the poles on the bed frame, before grabbing your other wrist and tightening the other handcuff around it - now every time you pulled your hands forward, you were stopped by the chain.

“That’s for being not behaving and trying to touch yourself,” he shook his head, the corner of his lip curling up as he watched you struggle against the handcuffs and pout up at him.

“Remember, only good girls get to come. You gonna be good for me, princess?” He asked, softly this time, thumb running along your hipbone and making you shiver. You nodded quickly.

Fred trailed his fingers down to your clit, just barely adding pressure and making you gasp out, “You gotta use your words, baby girl.”

You nodded again, “Yes Freddie, I’ll be good.”

“That’s my girl.”

He applied more pressure to your clit, circling and tracing shapes as pleasure ran through you. Your hips bucked up towards his hand, wanting to feel more friction and Fred bit his lip, smirking down at you, “Look at you, all needy and desperate for me.”

He pushed a finger back into you, quickly joined by a second, and grinned at the breathy moan that escaped your lips, “Is this what you want? For me to touch you like this?”

“Yes please.”

As he continued to move his fingers inside you, he changed his position so his hips were facing you, gently nudging your lips with his cock, “Open up, sweetheart.”

You parted your lips and he pushed himself inside your mouth groaning as he felt your tongue swirl around the tip. He bucked his hips forward, almost hitting the back of your throat, your eyes watering as you continued to bob your head best you could whilst still being restrained by the handcuffs.

“You okay princess?”

You nodded, humming out a ‘yes’ and making him groan out as it sent vibrations through him. His fingers were still moving against you and you could feel yourself clenching around him just as he twitched in your mouth.

He pulled out before he could finish, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he murmured in answer to your questioning look, “Wanna be inside you when I come.”

He moved to kneel between your legs, lifting your thighs and wrapping them around his hips as he leant down to where his fingers were, his warm breath hitting between your legs and you pulled on the handcuffs, wanting to wrap your arms around Fred, whining as you heard the sound of the metal against the bed frame.

The way his finger was moving against your clit made you think you wouldn’t last much longer, and you were proven right when Fred finally licked into you, his tongue rolling against you and making you moan out.

“Freddie!”

He hummed against you and you clenched around his fingers again, nearing your high. “Should I let you finish, princess?” He spoke against you, “Reckon you’ve been good enough for me?”

“Yes, yes please. I’m good- I’ll be good. Please,” you breathed out.

He applied just the faintest more pressure to your clit, tongue moving against you and suddenly pleasure washed over you as you moaned out, pulling again at the handcuffs. He continued licking into you until he heard you whining from the over stimulation, moving back up your body, pressing kisses to your stomach, chest and neck as he did so, before finally hovering over you, looking into your hazed eyes as he shot you a lazy smile.

“Ready for me, princess?”

“Always, Freddie.”

Your legs were still wrapped around his waist and you felt him line himself up, before he finally pushed into you, making you both groan out. He pressed his lips to yours, moving his hips against yours and thrusting into you.

He was rough, setting a fast pace but you matched his movements even with your hands tied up, revelling in the feeling of being so full, so complete.

Your heels dug into his back, leaving little dents, his own fingernails digging into your hips, leaving marks to remind you both in the morning of the events of the night before.

It didn’t take long for you to feel the familiar jolt of building pleasure, and from the way Fred was groaning into your neck, you knew he was close too.

He reached up and fumbled to unlock the handcuffs, allowing them to fall to the floor as you ran your hands through his ginger hair the way you’d been imagining, tugging at strands, making him curse out.

“I’m close-“ you breathed out, eyes fluttering closed as your hands moved to grip his flexing shoulders.

“I know, me too princess. Come for me,” Fred breathed out as he moved against you. Your second high coursed through you soon after and your head fell back against the pillow, breathing out another moan when you felt him finish inside you, his movements slowing down as his breathing began to still.

He was pressing kisses across your face, your cheeks, nose, multiple to your swollen lips as he pulled out of you, collapsing by your side, his skin flushed red.

You turned onto your side and kissed him gently again, and his hands held your waist as you moved on top of him.

“I love you,” you smiled down at him, watching as he smiled back at you.

“I love you too, princess, so much.”

He pulled you against him, your head nuzzling into his chest as his arms wrapped around you. He was quiet for a moment, and you began to think he’d fallen asleep when suddenly he spoke out, “So uh... me dressing up as Santa, huh? That something that would interest you?”

You lifted your head to see him smiling cheekily at you, rolling your eyes though you couldn’t help but smile, “Possibly. Why, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I dress as Santa, you put that babydoll back on and maybe you sit in my lap,” Fred grinned, “How’s that sound?”

“Amazing,” you breathed out, feeling his hands squeeze your waist. He offered you no reply and instead moved from under you and jumped up off the bed, grabbing his dropped boxers and nearly falling as he pulled them back on again.

“Wait, where are you going?” You laughed, watching as he headed to the door.

“Where do you think?” He turned to you and grinned,

“I’m off to find a Santa costume.”

[sugarsatoru]

Espresso Shots

Pairing: Mammon x GN! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Ratings: General

Warnings: Grammar errors, cursing

Note: This is the first fanfic that I have written in years. Inspired by the song 'Hello Tutorial' by Zion T & Seulgi.

This is also cross-posted in AO3 .

_____________________________________________________________

Mammon instantly perked up behind the counter and flashed a toothy grin when he saw you enter the cafe. He’ll do it tonight, he told himself. He’ll be the one to take his favorite customer’s order tonight. It's not like he waited the whole day for you to come nor did he practice too many times in front of the mirror on how he’ll wave and greet or the not so cheesy and lowkey pick up lines that he’ll use. Really, he did not prepare for this at all.

“Oh? Interesting.” Satan, the blonde headed barista, said with a smirk while arranging the pastries in the display beside Mammon. “Don’t wave like a weirdo and make sure to not embarrass yourself. Remember that even Lucifer has the hots for them.”

“Hi Satan,” You casually greeted him as you walked to the counter. He gave you a nod before disappearing into the kitchen.

Mammon’s hand instantly pretended to fix his hair. His gorgeous smile was instantly replaced with a pretentious snarl when you gave him a small smile.

Shit, why can’t he pull his act together?

Sometimes, Mammon is convinced that you are beyond human, an angel or a deity or something. You are simply ethereal in his eyes. The little things you do are too adorable for him to handle. Like when you squint your eyes when you read the menu, that puzzled look on your face whenever you’re choosing between two pastries, and especially tonight, when you’re just an arm's length away from you, your features are clearly visible from his very eyes.

“Hi Mammon, I’ll get a large iced macchiato with extra six shots of espresso and put some energy packets in there, whatever is available.”

Mammon furrowed his brows at you, “Are ya sure?” he asked “I can’t give ya that, s’not healthy at all… not like I care but..b-but...”

You crossed your arms and smiled sweetly at him, “I know you don’t, I’m just in the pit of despair.”

“It’s 10pm!”

“More reason why I need that coffee!” You don’t. You really don’t especially when you have a one month old coffee machine in your home.

Mammon leaned towards you, one hand on the counter table “You’ll be up till noon tomorrow, be dead tired when the caffeine wears out and I won’t be able to see you tomorrow if that happens!”

“What?” You whispered as your gaze met Mammon’s. His face went red and instantly looked down. “Jesus…”

You feel like you’re going to combust. You’ve been dying to flirt with Mammon ever since you laid your eyes on him. You’ve been wanting him to flash you that toothy smile that he always has when he greets other customers. You’ve been internally cursing girls who flirts with him every chance that they get. With you, it was also a forced interaction followed by a deafening silence. God, or whatever deity, or even demon, must have heard your cries and wishes.

Everyday, you enter the cafe bringing with you the hope that Mammon will take your order, Mammon will use some cheesy pick up lines for you. It has always been mammon.

You stared at Mammon for a while, he was the only real guy who managed to check everything off your dream guy list-- Gorgeous, charming, and sexy. Well, maybe you can only cross off the physical section of your type since you haven’t really interacted with Mammon despite being a regular at the cafe for months now. You were even convinced that you’re not his type.

It was Satan, Mammon’s younger brother, who introduced you to the cafe. When both of you were paired for a project, you would always go there after school. You’re not the biggest fan of expensive coffees since you just bought a coffee machine back in your apartment to save some money, but then coffee is the best especially when it's free.

Satan, along with his three older brothers, and a man named Diavlo runs the cafe. It was a simple minimalist cafe and it was often jam packed. It might be the coffee but it was more because of the brothers, and the boss man Diavlo himself are the reason why college and high school students keep on swarming in the cafe.

The brothers are the most gorgeous guys that you have ever seen, Satan and Levi are equally gorgeous along with Lucifer, but it was different for you when it comes to Mammon. Expensive coffees are not your type actually, but no one said about it being served by a gorgeous barista.

Mammon internally cursed. Just right when Satan told him to not embarrass himself, he managed to do the opposite. Looking up a little bit, he peeked at your reaction. Mouth agape, eyes staring at his previous form. Ethereal, he thinks. You’re just so ethereally breathtaking that he managed to make a fool out of himself and now he’s a hundred percent sure that he’ll never see you again because you won’t go back.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he pulled all of his remaining guts to serve you. “I’ll get you that co-.”

“Keep me company then.” You reached out to tug Mammon's sleeve “I don’t really need expensive coffee, I have a coffee machine in my apartment. I only go here because of you.”

The white haired barista could not believe what he heard. He was sure that you’ll find him creepy especially when he’s giving you nothing but cold replies when you greet him, or when he purposely avoids you and pretends to be busy whenever you enter the cafe. It was Lucifer that he was so sure of to sweep you off your feet but then you rejected him right off the bat because you told him that you already set your eyes on someone. God knows that everytime when you’re around, he wishes that he could pull you close and bury his face in your hair.

Mammon couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that it was him. You rejected Lucifer because you like him. For months you’ve been going to the cafe because of him and for months he has been wallowing everytime you step out of the cafe because he just likes you too much and he thinks that you won’t even spare him a minute of your time.

Mammon pressed his lips on to the side of your head and whispered “Take a seat for a minute would ya?”

“Only if you’ll take me home”

---

“Satan, where is Mammon!?” Lucifer growled. It’s a busy day in the cafe and the teenagers who won’t stop pestering him despite the long line made the situation worse.

“Uhmm… Somewhere you want to be I guess?” Satan smirked and pointed at the window. “You missed a lot yesterday.”

Lucifer crossed his arms and sighed. “So that’s why he didn’t go home.”

“They grossly look like teenagers with their first boyfriends!” Levi snickered.

Lucifer smiled at the sight of his brother and you exchanging goodbyes looking like teenagers in love. The looks that you unknowingly gave each other does not go unnoticed by him, but that doesn’t mean that he’ll back off and eat his pride. So when Mammon entered the cafe with the goofiest smile on his face. Lucifer can’t help it but be happy for his dear brother.

“Very well Mammon, it was about time.” Lucifer said as he smacked the head of his younger brother, “But hide that damn hickey, this is a cafe not a club.”

[peach-pops]

Hi! Can I requests a HC with Suga, Kageyama, and Noya where they go into Ukais store and they completely fall head over heels for the girl behind the register ( she can be related to Ukai or just works there for him)

This is my first request! Make sure you guys like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed it and requests are open! 

Suga, Kageyama, and Noya develop a crush on Ukai’s new employee 

➣Sugawara

One day after practice, Suga finds himself heading to Ukai’s store with Daichi and Asahi because they’ve been craving those steamed pork buns and since it was Daichi’s turn to pay for food, it was an offer he couldn’t refuse 

He’s definitely an advocate for “Free food is the best food” 

#sugardaddydaichi

The boys walk into Sakanoshita and Suga is the first to notice a new girl standing behind the counter who is reading the newspaper with her legs propped up just like a mini Ukai

Instead of a cigarette between her lip, she has a stick of chocolate pocky in her mouth 

Suga thinks you are SO cute and he can’t stop staring at you but once you look up from your newspaper to lock eyes with him, he averts his gaze and continues to walk forward, only to bump into one of the shelves by accident 

“ Woah, you okay suga?” Daichi asks as he turns around to face his friend

“ GAH I’m fine!”

Suga hears you let out a small giggle as you went back to your newspaper and pretended to act uninterested in the boy, even though you knew fully well that he was reallllllly cute

Daichi is a smart boy and he can clearly tell that Suga is completely flustered over you but decides to say nothing for now while Asahi is deciding between which flavor drink he should get 

He’s oblivious, aren’t all aces? 

The boys grab their buns and head over to the counter where you greet them extra politely because you are an underpaid customer service worker who is just genuinely nice a cute boy is in front of you and you wanna make a nice impression

“ Okay, you’re all set,  is there anything else I can do for you guys?” You asked sweetly as Daichi looks over to Suga who’s cheeks are getting flushed

Daichi gets Asahi’s attention and nods over to the door,” We’ll be outside Suga, don’t take too long.” 

Suga’s eyes practically are pleading with Daichi saying “ Please don’t leave me I think I’m choking on my own tongue” but Daichi just laughs and walks out with a confused Asahi trailing behind him 

Suga just tries to calm himself down because he knows the goal is to make a nice impression and hopefully set up a date so he can see you again 

“ From the way you were sitting, I imagine you’re related to Ukai? ”

Suga immediately regrets this approach because now he sounds like a weird stalker but you don’t think anything of his question

“ Mhm, I’m his niece Y/N, how do you know him?” 

He replays your name out loud and for some reason it makes him smile even more

You being Ukai’s niece doesn’t really make Suga panic even though the thought of crushing on his coaches niece seems like he is crossing some sort of moral line

Suga tells you that he plays volleyball for Karasuno and that your uncle is also his coach which lights up your face 

“ No kidding, what a small world! I would love to come out and cheer you on. When’s the next game?”

Suga short circuits for a second because you specifically said you would cheer him on instead of the team as a whole

“ S-sure! There’s one next week if you want to come .ANDmaybewecangetsomethingtoeatafter!” 

“ Sounds like a plan, its a date,” You smiled as Suga nods excitedly before rushing out of the store without another word 

“ Did I just hear her say that Ukai is her uncle?” Asahi asked as the three of them walked down the street

Suga nods and blabs on about his interaction with you but Asahi and Daichi look at each other the whole time as they think of how screwed Suga will be once Ukai finds out

➣Kageyama

Kageyama never really heads to Ukai’s store unless he’s with his teammates but one day when he’s out jogging, he forgets his water bottle so he decides to stop by Sakanoshita to grab a drink since he knows he won’t be able to run much longer in this heat 

He steps into the store and he’s blessed with not only the blasting AC but the sight of a girl around his age refilling the drinks in the fridge

Kags can only see the side of your face but even then, he feels his heart skip a beat 

He’s never felt anything like this before so he’s convinced he’s about to have a heart attack but then the unsettling thought hits him as he’s just standing there in the middle of the store with his wallet out 

“ She’s really pretty” and Kageyama doesn’t even realize he’s said this OUT LOUD until you turn around and give him a shy smile

“ Um, thank you, you too”

Kageyama wants to just run out of the store because he is so embarrassed and he can feel the back of his neck and ears heat up as he contemplates leaving

And that’s EXACTLY what he does!!!!

The dude just leaves without buying anything and decides to just run back home because he is MORTIFIED 

You’re kinda bummed out because “damn, I scared another one off this week” but you realize that he dropped his wallet as he was sprinting out so you knew he’d be back

You didn’t look through his wallet, all you did was put it in one of the drawers at the register and continued on with your day as usual 

Just kidding, you totally looked through it and founds his Karasuno school ID and when you saw he was a first-year too, you mentally gave yourself a high five

Kageyama on the other time is freaking out because not only did he lose his wallet, he is so sure that the last time he had it was at Ukai’s store which means he has to see you again

He decides to wait until later that night to show up because he thinks maybe Ukai will be there instead-but sure enough when he shows up, you’re still sitting behind the counter and this time, he can see your whole face as you’re doing homework 

And his heart stops when he sees that you’re wearing a Karasuno school uniform because he could’ve sworn he would’ve recognized someone as pretty as you around the hallways

He’s never felt this way about any girl before and now, he slightly regretted not listening to Tanaka’s advice on how to pick up girls because he was felt so lost on what to do 

You could feel someone staring at you but when you turned your head up, you found yourself almost glad to see him

“ Oh hey Tobio! Did you come back for something?” 

His brain short circuits for the millionth time because hardly anyone calls him by his first name and he figures you probably went through his wallet 

Kageyama sheepishly nods as he heads over to the counter. You don’t even understand how hard it is for Kageyama to even talk to you

Cause granted, he’s talked to girls before like Kiyoko and Yachi but never a girl he was interested in because until now, he never even found himself attracted to girls 

You hand him his wallet as you defend yourself, saying that you only went through it to find his address so you could return it after your shift  

he apologizes over and over again on how much it was a burden for you to keep his wallet for the day

All you could do was laugh at how absurd this whole situation was and your laugh made Kageyama tense up because even your laugh was attractive 

He made sure to keep that in his head though 

Kageyama doesn’t know why his feet are practically cemented in front of you but he just doesn’t want to leave

He makes up any excuse and looks down at your math homework and thinks of an idea

“ Oh, do you need help with that?”

And Kageyama feels so stupid because why the hell did he just offer to help you with math homework when he only has one working braincell

You look down at your homework and back up at him,” You know this stuff?”

Kageyama looks at you before swallowing hard and shakes his head,” No…I’m actually really bad”

You giggle at his attempt at trying to be helpful but you nod back towards your homework,” Well don’t worry, I have math under control...If you want I can tutor you sometime?”

Kageyama almost says yes way too quickly before he pretends to think it over in his head and happily accepts your offer

You smile back at him before grabbing a sticky note and scribbling your name and number on a piece of paper,” Call me whenever, yeah?” 

You know that face Kageyama makes where his smile is super weird and squiggly? Well thats the exact face he has as he takes the piece of paper and tells you goodnight

And you can bet everything you have that he immediately rushes home and pulls out his homework just so he can have an excuse to call you up 

➣Nishinoya 

Nishinoya frequently visits Ukai’s store even if it’s out of the way because he likes to see a familiar face 

And also tries to bargain a “family discount” to which Ukai always denies him 

So one night Noya feels a sudden craving for literally anything that isn’t within his own house and he just decides to go drop by Sakanoshita to annoy Ukai out of a free bag of chips

“ Oi Ukai-” Noya stops in his tracks when he sees a girl around his age carrying a big box of products out from the back of the store

He is completely SMITTEN for you right away and in the back of his mind he’s like Kiyoko who? 

He had been going to Ukai’s for a long time but he had never saw you around before so already his mind was thinking of who you could be 

“ She’s too pretty to be Ukai’s daughter- he isnt even married why would he have a daughter-unless his wife left him with a baby and that’s why he’s grumpy all the time- wait but aren’t babies made by having-”

Noya kinda snaps out of it as you let out a small grunt while you’re trying to balance the two boxes on top of each other

Lets be real, Noya is the number one women respecter so when he sees you somewhat struggling, he rushes over and helps take some of the weight off of you

You could feel your load lighten but you still keep your hand on the box,“ I got it, it’s fine!”

“ No, please let me help! You’re too pretty to carry heavy things, you need a big strong man to help!” 

He didn’t mean for it to sound so unfeminist because again, he loves women as much as Hinata loves volleyball but he just didn’t want you to hurt yourself

You guide him where to set the boxes and they’re way heavier than Noya anticipated but since he wanted to impress you, he tried to play it off like it wasn’t even that heavy 

“ Thanks for the help, I hate making multiple trips” You said as you crouched down and opened up the boxes. When you look up at the boy for the first time, you feel your heart skip a beat because duh, cute stranger alert and Noya was feeling the exact same way 

“ I would do it again in a heartbeat,” Noya smiled and introduced himself and when you said your full name, Noya felt like his mind had exploded

“ Woah! I know him, he’s my volleyball coach- I’m Karasuno’s libero-that’s the school I go to- and he owns the store- but you probably already know that- I’ve never seen you around before, are you new?” 

When Noya gets excited, he has a tendency to talk people’s ear off but you found it so amusing and almost endearing 

“ Yep, today’s my first day. It’s been pretty hectic but it keeps me pretty busy for the most part.”

“ You know, I’m here all the time so I practically own the store myself. If you need any manly assistance, I could help you- like right now- do you want me to stock these chips? The cheesy ones are my favorite what about you?” 

You didn’t want to burden him but after trying to convince him you were fine doing it by yourself, you just gave up and decided that it would be quicker with him by your side

It would’ve taken you about an hour to stock whatever was left but with Noya’s help, you two managed to get it done in 20 minutes. While you closed up the shop, he even offered to walk you home because “ someone as pretty as you shouldn’t walk home without a bodyguard” 

You happily accepted your offer because hellooooo any excuse to hang out with him longer worked for you! 

When you got to your house, you gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek to thank him and for extra measure, you pulled out a bag of cheesy chips from your coat

Noya practically fell to his knees once you closed your front door and he was simping so hard for you that everytime he wasn’t busy with volleyball, he would close up the shop with you and walk you home

[softyoongiionly]

Portraits of a Tiger || 02

Legends of a great and equally terrifying warrior nicknamed the Tiger have been emerging from your fellow villagers for quite sometime. Stories of his skill, his stealth and his supposed wickedness have been passed around to the point where he is more prophecy than person. You have lived your life with a strong sense of conviction, rarely letting gossip influence your opinion. However, you would be lying if you said that his legacy didn’t intrigue you. When the Tiger and his infamous army arrive in your village to refuel, you come face to face with the man behind the myth.

And no amount of marketplace gossip would ever be enough to capture the true complexity of his nature.

Pairing: Merchant! Reader x Warrior! Yoongi

Genre: Adventure, Romance, Smut (later), Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: language, depictions of violence both verbal and physical however they are fairly mild, mentions of war and power dynamics, there will be smut in future parts so, (18+ only please).

Current Tag List (let me know if you want to be tagged!): @gldnrecs​ @naajix​ @bluewhale52​ @nikkikenji​ @lustedkisses​ @loveyoongles​ @hear-me-growl​ 

A/N: oh hiiii. I’m a little obsessed with this universe so, I hope you guys are enjoying all the Warrior! Yoongi content. Love you!

Once again, I want to shout out @bulletproofbirdy​ for everything she has done to make this fic possible. I love you so much! 

“I’m just saying, some of the women in this village should at least attempt it. Wedding a solider is an honor, not to mention the fact that it sets you up for life.”  

Jane’s voice sounds beside you and it causes you to smile to yourself; she’s always coming up with plans for other people, attempting to live vicariously through them.  

“Like Y/N- you’re young-” She tilts her head, her frizzy red hair almost twirling above her scalp, “-ish. You would probably be able to convince one of them to take you for a bride.”  

You scoff, “Thank you for having so much faith in me Jane, I’ll keep that in mind.”  

Jane quickly moves on to another girl in the market, throwing the same amount of enthusiasm her way.  

You know she means well, even if she is a little brash at times.  

It’s been two days since the market place was riddled with thieves and soldiers. Things have mostly gone back to normal apart from the same armored men loitering about your village.  

Over the time that’s past, you’ve been able to meet or at least learn more about Yoongi’s fleet.  

Seven men, each of them possessing an incredible amount of skill, made up the group behind the gossip.  

Seokjin was indeed in charge of community outreach (and the cooking) but, he was also an incredible marksmen; his aim was unlike anything you’ve ever witnessed. Whilst you were cleaning up yesterday evening, you saw a few of them practicing and Seokjin through a dagger from nearly 200 feet away only for it to land directly in the center of the target.  

Namjoon, you met in the library whilst you were reading more about a new remedy you were planning to try. He was extremely brawny but very mild mannered. He introduced himself and thanked you for the bread you had delivered and upon speaking to him, you learned of his position in the fleet; psychological warfare. According to Namjoon, he was in charge of depleting the moral of their enemies by various means that he didn’t specify.  His gentle demeanor made it very difficult for you to believe that he was apart of such a dangerous team but you realized that, that was the very reason he was so successful.  

Jungkook, according to Seokjin, was the fleet’s first responder: The first man on the ground during a battle and usually the last one to leave. He had two things on his side: speed and strength. The fleet calls him the Terror Cub which is supposed to be a play on Yoongi’s nickname. You’ve also learned that Jungkook is Yoongi’s younger brother and upon minimal observation, you can tell they have a very close bond.  

Jimin, you met at the tavern during an evening out with Rachel. He was incredibly kind and his beauty was nothing short of offensive. His position in the army made sense; he was known as a Red Herring or in civilian terms: the distraction. Jimin’s beauty and charm was the fleet’s secret weapon and after spending a bit of time with him that night, you could definitely see why. Without a uniform, Jimin looks like a soft and unassuming man. A target would never suspect his true intentions.

Taehyung and you had a lot in common as he too was an Apothecary only- he didn’t specialize in the same type of medicine you did. Taehyung was the fleet’s resident poison expert. You met him at the tavern as well as he was the man Jimin hung off of the entire night. You learned of their romance throughout the evening and, couldn’t help but admire the sheer power between them. The Herring and the Poison Expert, what a duo.

Hoseok was still a bit of a mystery to you as he rarely ventured into the village. According to Seokjin, Yoongi placed him charge of training the new recruits specifically in the art Hoseok was most familiar with: archery. Upon the introduction of his position, you quickly recalled a story regarding the legendary archer.  Hoseok’s expertise had made it into the discourse in your village roughly a year ago when the Royal Army took down invaders in the snowy mountains just west of your home. In accordance with the story, Hoseok defeated their front line from the treetops before they were able to reach the rest of his fleet. You hadn’t had a chance to speak with him much but, he did introduce himself when you brought a second basket of bread to the camp.  

Aside from being their general, their leader and, the most expert swordsman in all of the land, Yoongi was also the fleet’s strategist. He mapped their every move, their every course, their objectives and several precautionary measures should things go sour. He was essentially the brains behind everything but of course, you didn’t learn this from him. The rest of his men had revealed bits and pieces about him throughout your interactions with each of them.  

In addition, you also learned that Yoongi’s army was a defensive force. They were established as a means of protection by the Queens which would mean that the stories of them ruthlessly invading territories around the region were null and void. The seven of them preceded over a much larger fleet; 22,000 men who follow closely behind them but never fight unless Yoongi calls in for backup.

The Tiger’s fleet was the frontline, the brain, heart and soul of the royal army.  

You feel a bit of sadness for them. They have done so much to protect this land and although they are revered and admired, they are also unnecessarily feared.  

The morning passes easily and it’s one of those days where you actually enjoy being out in the plaza.

The weather was nice, temperate and cool just as you like it.  

Clouds encase the otherwise sunny sky which keeps it from growing too warm in the marketplace and, with the slight breeze wafting throughout the atmosphere, you feel content.

A minimal afternoon crowd makes it easy for you to provide accurate and lengthy consultations to your patrons.

“Yes- just apply this three times a day and you should notice a significant reduction in the inflammation.” You smile sweetly, passing a lot the salve to your customer before you notice a familiar color making its way through the crowd.

It’s platinum and the curve of the ponytail its attached to belongs to someone you hadn’t anticipated on seeing.

It causes your heartrate to go a little wonky whilst you attempt to look away.

The salve Yoongi purchased from you days earlier prove to be very popular amongst his crew and now his tin that was supposed to last him three months is nearly gone.  

He may have other reasons for returning to the market as well but, his story was air-tight and would need no further explanation.

He would know, he checked.

“Good morning,” You smile at him and Jane’s train of thought is derailed the moment she sees your next customer. “How can I help you?”

He raises his hand, a large metal tin between his fingers, “Do you have any more of this? I woke up this morning to find that my men have ransacked it. If you have the stock, I’d like to buy 7 more tins so I can have one of my own.”  

You can’t help it but allow your eyes to widen at his request; the profits from 7 more tins would be enough to feed your family for the next month.

But you compose yourself quickly and nod, “I have more than enough- you said 7 right? Did you want the big tins again?”

He lowers his hand and sighs, his eyes flitting back towards his tent, “Please. I don’t trust the younger ones to use it as you instructed so, I want to make sure it lasts as long as it can.”

Snickering, you bend down and grab the requested amount of tins for him and nod in understanding, “Makes total sense. I’m guessing one of the main culprits was Jungkook? I saw him rubbing his hands together for a really long time and, now everything makes sense.”  

Yoongi smirks, his teeth peeking out between his lips, “Aish that kid- he's gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.”

“He’s younger brother right? I can see the resemblance...” You tease, wrapping the tins in paper,  spending a little too much time on each one and, no it’s totally not because you’re trying to prolong your interaction with Yoongi.

“Adopted brother yes- my parents took him in when he was 7. It’s interesting you think we look alike though, you’re not the first person to say that.” Yoongi’s hands have found their way to his uniform, smoothing it out subconsciously.

“Oh really? Yeah I wouldn’t have suspected that, you guys have the same mouth-” His brows raise at your comment and the glint in his eye makes you backtrack, “his lips are a little bigger I guess though so- uh not that I’m looking closely at your mouth or anything but-”

Yoongi starts chuckling then, the shakiness in your tone amusing him “I understand what you mean don’t worry. What’s my total?” He nods to the tins, which you’ve finally finished wrapping.

“Oh! Right, I’m sorry- your total is 24.50...” You slide the tins towards him carefully before Jane’s shrill voice sounds from beside you.

“Give the man a discount Y/N, he’s practically buying out your entire stock!” She urges, gesturing wildly towards your cart.

Your mouth opens as your eyes move quickly between her and Yoongi “O-”

Yoongi raises his hand, “Nonsense. Ms. Y/L/N’s products are some of the finest I’ve come across and are certainly worth the full price-  24.50 you said?” His brows raise again, looking directly into your eyes, not even bothering to turn to Jane’s direction.

The direct way in which he addresses her sends a bit of heat to your cheeks. Jane is someone you have mutual respect for but, her attitude isn’t your favorite nor is her incessant need to put her nose in everyone’s business.  

“Yes, thank you.” You smile sheepishly, bending down once more to grab a paper bag from beneath your counter, “I’ll put in a few bags of rose hip and peppermint tea free of charge; they help with inflammation. I know you all will be training over the next few weeks so, you should get some use out of it.”

He offers a small smile and bows his head, “Thank you. Uh-” Yoongi turns once again back towards his camp, “Seokjin hasn’t stopped talking about your bread, has he arranged for you to bring more?”

Giggling, you accept his payment, tucking it away beneath the counter and nodding, “Yes. I’ll be by this evening with a new batch.”

“Has he offered any payment? We appreciate the hospitality of course but, I do hope he plans on compensating you for your trouble.”

Waving him off, you shake your head and slide the bag his way, “It’s no trouble at all honestly, I’ve been wanting to hone my baking skills for quite some time so, this just gives me an excuse to do so.”  

He grimaces, “Still, you should be-”

“I really don’t mind Yoongi, I promise. This transaction is going to take care of my family and I for quite some time. Not to mention the fact that you all saved my village A LOT of trouble. Take the free bread.” You insist, smirking slightly and if you aren’t mistaken, you notice a light blush come across his cheeks.

Clearing his throat, he steps back away from your cart, moving the smile off of his lips as best as he can.

He likes the sound of his name on your lips a little more than he cares to admit.  

He needs to get out of this plaza before he smiles at you one more time.  

It’s getting a little out of hand.

“Appreciate it.” He mutters before bowing his head once more, “I suppose I’ll see you this evening then?”

Something flutters around in your stomach, “You will. Thank you again for coming by.”

His mouth fixes over a tight smile as he fashions the bag around his wrist, which is quite delicate for a man of his nature.  

When Yoongi is fully out of earshot, you take a deep breath and begin straightening up your cart, trying to distract your mind from his presence

Jane however, has been foaming at the mouth ever since he shot down her suggestion of a discount and quickly rushes over to you, smacking her hand across your arm.

“Ow! Ok- listen we have got to find another way to greet each other because, you’re going to leave some permanent damage on me one of these days.” You admonish, your brow furrowing as you rub your arm.

She ignores you and leans down, her eyes wide with curiosity, “You ARE going to pursue him aren’t you? He’s clearly interested, did you see the way he smiled?! He was quite literally hanging on every word you said!” She whisper yells, her eyes darting around  

This conversation is giving you deja vu and given your flustered state you don’t necessarily have the capacity to argue with her.

“Maybe he’s just kinder than you all gave him credit for.” You answer coolly, giggling as she tugs frantically at your dress.

“He’s kinder to YOU. He barely gave me a second look.” She insists, sound slightly bitter

You quickly move on, waving over another customer, a smile still on your lips, “Aren’t you happily married Jane? I’m sure your husband looks at you plenty...”

She kisses her teeth and rolls her eyes, “Happily is a loaded word dear. Regardless, my point stays the same. You said you were bringing bread over to him didn’t you? Are you planning on using that chance to further this little bond you two have?”

Its your turn to roll your eyes now, “I plan on using that chance to deliver bread.”

With a grumble, Jane reluctantly returns to her cart as she too has a customer heading her way.

The rest of the day passes easily, which you are quite thankful for given that you’re evening plans are a little out of the ordinary.  

It’s hard to get Yoongi out of your mind but, you really do try, he is just a man after all.

Just an interesting, intelligent, handsome-

“Y/N...” Rachel’s voice drags you out of your train of thought and causes you to quickly shift on the stool towards her.

You went to her house after you day had ended because:

She’s the absolute best

and

She has the better oven

“What? Sorry I was-”

She smirks knowingly, sprinkling flour over the dough on the cutting board, “Just thinking about how you plan on charming the Tiger tonight?”

You’d like to deny it but, she isn’t entirely wrong.

Instead, you just go back to wrapping the current loaf of fresh bread in the same paper you use to wrap you wares back at the market.

The cheese in this batch makes the outside of the bread a little greasy so, you always gift it with some wrapping; it also keeps the bugs away.

“You know- you should come with me. It's your one-way ticket to Jungkook, you only have a few weeks to gain his hand in marriage.” You point out, smirking.

Rachel blushes profusely, “I- well- you know?!?! He really is something.” She stutters, swallowing back a bit of her nerves before continuing, “I don’t know if I can do that. You've seen me in social settings...”

You snort and point in her direction, “I have. You’re great in social settings. We panic- in private- together remember? That’s how we bond.” Clenching your fist to your chest dramatically, you continue with the rest of her concern, “Honestly he’s not that intimidating face to face. He was practically hiding behind in his friend when I was there...”

Jungkook had stood out to you for that specific reason; his demeanor at the plaza would have never lead you to suspect his shy and rather docile nature.  

He certainly was perplexing.

Rachel smiles whimsically, staring off at nothing while she half-heartedly kneads the dough. She then lets out a sigh before giggling at the end of your sentence, “I suppose you’re right. He seems gentle underneath that brawny exterior. He’s so handsome too- and such a high rank for being so young. I’m just a village teacher...”

You smirk again, “Gentle is one way of putting it.” Then you scoff, feeling actual offense at her comment regarding herself. To express your distaste, you throw a piece of dough her way, “Stop that. You are literally the most eligible woman in this entire village. You are an artist, an educator and-” You take a bite out of a spare loaf of bread and shove it in your mouth, relishing in it’s doughy, cheesy texture. “- a damn good baker. Don’t sell yourself short.”

She rolls her eyes playfully, “Oh alright...you’re quite eligible yourself you know! How does it feel to have caught the eye of the Tiger himself, hm????”  

“So you’re coming?” You ask excitedly, bouncing on your stool before promptly looking away in denial, “I have done no such thing. He’s just being friendly to me because I cured his dry skin. Soft hands will change a man let me tell you...”  

“Ohhhh I suppose I will.” She sighs with a shrug to her shoulders, “My curiosity will always get the best of me, for better or worse.” She leans closer to her friend, conspiratorially “we can’t have that Tigers paws TOO soft—don’t do your job TOO well, oh esteemed herbalist.”

“In sickness and in health til death do you part...” You finish with raised brows, before giggling “esteemed and eligible? Now you’re just flattering me. I don’t think he’ll need to come back to my cart at least, I gave him enough salve to last the winter.”

Rachel shoves rounds the counter suddenly, heat blooming on her cheeks as she tries to shove you off the stool, “Oh YOUUUUU!!” She rolls her eyes again, looking at you pointedly, “Regardless of salve, you don’t give yourself enough credit. All jokes aside, Y/N, from what you have told me about your run ins with the general, he seems to appreciate your conversation. I don’t imagine people treat him with such frankness.”

Your laughter increases as you hold onto the counter for dear life, “Hey easy!” Biting your lip, you try to think of the right words to say without giving yourself away, “He’s very interesting. I am- you know, very intrigued by him that’s for sure.”

She lets you off the hook, her own laughter dying down as she returns to her place, “He is fascinating...I am a bit surprised at how different he seems to be from the stories...it raises so many questions like- how did he end up where he is?”

“I don’t know honestly. I kind of feel bad that so many people had him wrong- Seokjin said they don’t get a lot of hospitality due to the rumors about Yoongi.”

Rachel pouts before turning to pull one of the last batches of bread out of the oven. As she tugs the tray out of it’s warm resting place her lips tug up into a smirk “Oh it’s Yoongi now? On a first name basis with the nation’s greatest general I see- that was quick.”  

It’s your eyes that roll this time, heat rushing to the tip of your nose, “That IS his name... I can’t keep calling him Tiger now can I? That would be weird...”

She continues smirking but, her eyes hold a bit of sympathy as she addresses the rest of your sentence, “Seriously though, that breaks my heart for them...he handled that raider with more kindness than he deserved. It makes me wonder how many other rumors are unfounded.”

“Yeah it really surprised me- I was expecting there to be bloodshed...I still can’t believe he just let most of them go. I’ve seen soldiers administer worse punishments for lesser offenses.  

“I suppose you are right. Yoongi seems to be shrouded in mystery, but perhaps you will have a chance to learn more about the man behind the myth?” She suggests, brows rising with her inquiry.

“Typical teacher- rooting for me and all my hopes and dreams.” You tease as the two of you load up the bread into the basket, “Perhaps YOU will have a chance to learn more about the man behind the chest plate hm? Are you all ready to go?”

She smiles, “I will ALWAYS root for you!” And as the two of you begin packing everything up she huffs, blushing once again, “You really won’t stop teasing me, will you?”

“Nope.” You smile cheekily, dodging as she tries to wack you, “I can see it now- you, educating the youth and him- protecting the innocent. It’s a match made in heaven.”  

Rachel offers a shy grin as the two of you head out the door, “A girl can daydream...”

The walk to the camp doesn’t take long but within the short period of time you spend walking, your stomach manages to work itself up into a frenzy.

“Ok- the main tent is the one with the flag on the-” You begin, pointing it out to Rachel but your voice is quickly swallowed as you spot him:

The Tiger aka Yoongi, strolls through the courtyard of their camp towards a group of awaiting recruits in the distance.

He’s wearing crème colored linen pants and a matching peasant blouse, his long white tendrils wrapped up into a bun atop his head. He strides through the grass with confidence, his dark eyes observing his surroundings.

“You were saying?” Rachel eyes you curiously before following your line of sight.

Before she can say anything, you rush to return to your explanation, “Seokjin is the one that I made the arrangements with so, we can deliver these in there.” You gesture to the main tent, swallowing back a bit of nerves.

You don’t see many of Yoongi’s men out in the yard with the exception of Namjoon. He’s sitting on a bench, dressed entirely in red, sketching on a piece of parchment.  

As you ring the bell of the tent, Rachel subconsciously shifts behind you.

“Is that my bread?!” Seokjin yells from inside the tent and after a bit of shuffling, he pushes aside the entrance, a bright smile on his face, “Ugh it is. You are a godsent Y/N...” His head cocks as he sees Rachel standing beside you, “Oh hello, you must be Y/N’s friend. Kim Seokjin, did you assist with this delivery?”

He extends a hand to her warmly and Rachel graciously takes it, smiling softly.

“I did. It’s very nice to meet you. You can call me Rachel...”

He returns her smile, bowing his head, “Rachel- that’s a beautiful name. Thank you for doing this, I haven’t seen these men so energized in quite some time.” Seokjin smirks fondly before his teeth tug at his bottom lip, “Would you two mind joining me in here for a moment? I have a question I’d like to ask you.”

You nod despite your confusion, still in disbelief that you’ve made contact with the nation’s most infamous men.

“Of course.”

Rachel nods politely, following behind you as Seokjin holds the entrance open.  

Your hit with the smell of wood as you enter their tent along with a hint of musk. It’s genuinely surprising that the odor isn’t stronger given that multiple men likely share these quarters. There’s several cots on the floor and mini lanterns adorning the ropes holding the tent together. Supplies, personal belongings and various weapons litter the floor and tabletops and, in one of the cots you spot Jungkook, laying down, shirtless.  

In front of his face sits a book that needs no introduction; a famous military strategy guide written by an ancient legend. Befitting, you think, of course they would have their men brushing up on military technique.  

Your brain also hones in on the man holding the book:

Jungkook is truly beautiful. His chocolate locks reach the base of his neck, disheveled but luxurious whilst his tan and soft features are screwed up in concentration. He doesn’t notice your presence at first but, Rachel certainly notices him.

You can hear her swallow beside you, her face turning bright red as her body subconsciously shifts closer to you.  

Her lips part silently and she tries her best to tear her eyes away from his body. The broadness of his chest and the smooth curves of his stomach is enough to capture your attention as well despite the fact that muscle doesn’t normally warrant a reaction from you.

As you the two of you grow closer to him, his eyes finally flit in your direction and, they grow wide like saucers. Hastily, he throws his book to the side before ripping his blanket off the end of his cot and wrapping it around himself.

“Jungkook-ah, make yourself decent. We have guests. I believe you’ve met Y/N already but, this is her friend Rachel...” Seokjin gestures elegantly to both of you, unbothered and unaware of the lingering tension in the air.

“Yes Hyung-” He mutters and grabs his brown linen shirt off the floor and tugs it over his head. He stands, almost robotically and extends his hand towards her, “Nice to meet you.”

Rachel moves in a similar way, her eyes still widened slightly whilst she takes his hand.

“Hi.” She responds, her voice smaller than usual and it causes Seokjin to quirk his brow at the two of them.

Jungkook visibly swallows, his prominent Adams apple bouncing in his throat as his hand sort of lingers against hers.

“I like your- “ His eyes flit to the top of her head, “ribbon. It’s blue.”

Seokjin smirks knowingly at the two of them now and he opens his mouth to break the tension before Rachel speaks up.

“Thanks!” She says a bit too loudly before swallowing the volume a bit, “I like your shirt. It’s very brown- a nice brown.”

Jungkook offers a tiny smile, dropping her hand reluctantly and before their encounter can continue, Seokjin speaks up.

“Uh ok, hooray for first meetings hm?” He nods to the exit of the tent, “Jungkook, I believe Yoongi was looking for you. He needs an assistant for today’s training session.”

Jungkook immediately perks up, nodding in excitement, “Yes hyung.” He pivots towards his cot to collect his armor but turns around once more to glance at Rachel, “Nice meeting you.”

“You too.” She practically squeaks, raising a hand in farewell.

Jungkook’s teeth peek out as he grins before he grabs his armor and practically sprints out of the tent.

Seokjin chuckles warmly and shakes his head before gesturing to the wooden table towards the back of the tent, “You are welcome to have a seat here, this should only take a moment.”

You each take your places at the table, illuminated by the lantern hanging above you.

Seokjin rounds the corner to sit across from you, his prince-like features tightening with a bit seriousness.

“As I said- this will be quick.” He assures you, licking his lips and lowering his voice a bit, “I was speaking with Yoongi earlier today and, he mentioned something that made me quite curious. He relayed a bit of your conversation with him-” He looks at you, “-he said that you told him that raiders were a common occurrence in your region, is that correct?”

You take his lead and lower your voice as well, glancing at Rachel before answering, “Yes. The number of raids has been increasing recently over the last few months actually.”

“I see. Do you have any idea as to why that may be?”

“I mean- our village is known for negotiating with raider clans.” You offer,” Our leaders feel as though it prevents violence.”

His brows quirk, hands clasping on the top of the table, “Has that method been effective so far?”

You look to Rachel for her insight and she tilts her head, considering the question, before she nods in approval which causes you to follow suit.

“I guess so. We have a specific strategy but, we are equipped with defenses as well.”  

Seokjin nods, his brows knitting together in thought. His plush lips part for a moment as he contemplates his next response, uncertainty written all over his face.

“Have either of you noticed any similarities between the clans? Anything at all- clothing, weaponry, language?”  

Your immediate response is to shake your head.

When a raid is occurring, you don’t necessarily have time to observe your intruders; safety is the only thing on your mind.

Rachel however, has noticed a similarity.

“There is one thing I’ve started to notice actually-” She begins, “They all seem to have a similar strategy. When they arrive, they encircle the town first before working their way inwards. It takes them a very long time to reach the center of the village, which is where we wait for them. It’s very strange actually, the center plaza contains most of our valuables- it's almost as if they are trying to take over in a way. However, they always end up leaving after negotiations and, I’ve never seen the same faces twice.”

Now that she mentions it, you recall that similarity as well.  

They do deploy the same tactic but, you just assumed that it’s the most effective way to get the most out of their raid.

Perhaps that isn’t their only intention.

Your stomach shrinks at the thought as you try to push it out of your head.

Seokjin’s features twitch with a bit of unease but, he composes himself quickly and smiles.

“Thank you. I’ll pass that along to Yoongi and see what he thinks of it.” He takes a deep breath, “We really appreciate your cooperation. As I mentioned to you the other day, it’s not very often that we are able to communicate with civilians and it makes our job a lot easier if we have insight from people who actually live in the territories we try to protect.” He eyes you both with a bit of hesitation then, as if he’s contemplating something, “If you wouldn't mind spreading the word that we aren’t a group of vicious demi-gods that would be great. As fun as the legends are, they can be a hinderance to our work...”  

You and Rachel nod in understanding, chuckling lightly at his word usage as the three of you stand.

“I’ll pass along the information. Thank you for having us.” You smile, bowing your head.

Rachel follows suit and, subconsciously her eyes drift to Jungkook’s cot, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by Seokjin.

“We appreciate having you very much.” He smirks as his eyes flit to Rachel, “Both of you. I think you should come along with Y/N for future deliveries Rachel, I’m sure Jungkook would enjoy that.”

Comically, Rachel’s eyes widen a bit as she aggressively clears her throat, frantically looking away from Jungkook’s cot.

“What? Why would he? Wh-What do you mean?” She stutters which causes you to giggle fondly at your friend.

Taking her hand, you squeeze it gently and address Seokjin’s request, “Oh she’ll be back, don’t you worry.”

He chuckles and gestures to the door, “I look forward to it. I’ll walk you two out, I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

Rachel mutters something inaudible by your side, towing behind you reluctantly.

After your departure from the tent and a bit of friendly verbal sparring between you and Rachel, you separate to finish the remainder of your day.

That evening, you decide to go against your parent’s judgements and journey to the river once again.

As beautiful as it is in the daylight, the moon provides a rendition unlike any other. She casts her glow on the water like the mother of all spotlights, dancing across the surface with ease.  

The truth is, you often sneak out after your parent’s have fallen asleep to find solace in the atmosphere of there. It’s almost magical and you feel as though you can think clearly here.  

You always bring your wicker basket along as well so you can collect any herbs or ingredients you may need.

It’s a necessity to switch off between plants though and ensure that you aren’t depleting the rivers natural resources too much; a practice you are continuously getting better at.  

The river carries it’s usual orchestra of sounds along with a bit more whistling in the trees.

It’s mating season for the birds here and they are singing to one another in hopes of finding a lover.

You giggle to yourself and think of what the world would be like if humans implied a similar method of finding a partner.

“Should I be concerned that you’re out here alone, laughing to yourself?”

The voice instantly sends energy up your back and you whip your head around to find Yoongi standing a few yards behind you.

He looks a bit worn out, likely from all the work he’s been doing with the new recruits but, his beauty overwhelms you regardless.

The moonlight casts shadows on his face, his mouth pulled up in a smirk, his hair tied back once again into a ponytail.

He’s wearing a set of clean clothes, a white linen top with brown pants, his sword strapped loyally to his hip.

You imagine he never travels without it.

“Should I be concerned that you’re stalking me?” You retort trying to control the smile that crosses over your face.

He smirks, his hand coming up to rub behind his neck, “I’m not stalking you. I’m patrolling the perimeter, common military practice. You just so happen to be along the perimeter.”

“The perimeter is one the other side of the river, there is a path just through those trees over there-” You point to a group of trees to the left of you, “So technically, you’re not walking the ENTIRE perimeter.”

Yoongi smirks broadens enough for his teeth to peak out as he nods, impressed by your knowledge, “Fair enough.” He nods to the river behind you, “I like walking through here, it’s peaceful.”

You can’t help but return a smile of your own as you nod, “It is. I don’t blame you for taking a detour, even if it was to scare the lights out of me again.”

He chuckles, “Are you out here often?”

“Very.” You nod, “This place serves multiple purposes.”

“Oh does it? What purposes are those?”

“Well, I get most of my ingredients from the river or the surrounding forest so, it’s vital to my work and,” You gesture to the space around your head, “It’s the perfect location to contemplate my existence, the meaning of life, the secrets of the universe- you know, stuff like that.”

Yoongi’s expression grows very amused then, his tongue poking out between his lips before he laughs again, “Ah yes- that stuff. Has the river provided you with any answers?”

“Oh yeah- plenty but you know, the answers only lead to more questions. It’s a vicious cycle.” You quip, giggling a bit and feeling very comfortable in his presence.

There is magnetism between the two of you.

It’s something you’ve never felt before.

And deep down within your heart, you hope he feels it too.

He steps towards you subconsciously, glancing towards the moon and then back at you, “I know that cycle very well. Have you found anything worth sharing? My job doesn’t exactly allow me to indulge in philosophy very often, I’d welcome any of your insight.”

It’s perplexing that a famous General would care to know your thoughts regarding the best eateries in your village let alone, for him to care about your philosophy.

It’s incredibly odd.  

You've always been a fan of oddities though so, you don’t think as much of it as you should.

“You’d have to be a little more specific, I don’t think you’d want to sit here whilst I prattle on about the complexities of the universe.” You laugh

He bites his lip in contemplation, his gaze on you softening significantly, “I wouldn’t be so sure...” Yoongi murmurs and the way he looks at you sends your heart on a marathon, “But I see your point; what do you think of the war?”

Taking a deep breath, you attempt to compose yourself and your thoughts in order to accurately address his question.

“I understand it to a certain extent. Historically speaking, humans have consistently risen in opposition of one another for whatever reason. Peace seems impossible at times. With so many selfish people rising to power, it almost incentivizes that kind of behavior. It’s rewarded. Peace is only possible when you restrict the empowerment of those who act within their own self-interest. The cycle always continues though so, war is inevitable.” You speak softly, taking your eyes off of Yoongi for a moment to focus on your choice of words.  

His dark eyes seem to glimmer with fascination as he nods along to your response, the two of you shifting closer to one another.

Unintentionally, of course.

“How should we restrict the empowerment of those individuals?” He licks his lips as his eyes narrow in curiosity, “Do you think there is a way to do that?”

Chewing on your cheek, you consider his question before letting out a sigh, “The power would have to return to the masses. I think the idea that humanity needs finite leadership isn’t completely accurate. Snuffing out corruption is difficult though, especially since it’s already been let loose. I guess there isn’t a linear path but, I’d like to believe it’s possible.”

He smiles, “So would I. My profession wouldn’t really imply that though would it?”

Your hands play with the fabric of your dress to distract from how close the two of you are as you swallow back the instability of your breath.

“I think it does actually. You aren’t tasked with the corrupt objectives; your job is to defend against it.”  

A grimace comes over his face, “I still engage in violence.”

“You do.” You agree, your hands lowering to clasp in front of you, “There is a difference between you and your enemy though isn’t there?”

Yoongi is truly hanging on every word you say, eager to hear the soft twinkle of your voice, eager to understand your mind.

“There is.” He answers tightly, glancing down your hands, “Violence isn’t our objective.”

You notice his gaze on your hands and it causes you to look at his own; they look softer than you remember, which you hope you can take partial credit for.

Amused, you watch as he clasps and unclasps them unknowingly, his nerves starting to creep up inside his head.

“What is your objective?” You ask, smiling softly at him

He bites his bottom lip, nodding as he understands where you’re headed, “Defending the innocent.”

“In times of war, peace also requires an army...” You conclude, hoping to comfort him in some way.

He smiles again but, he doesn’t look up at you, his gaze transfixed upon your fingers, “You should consider becoming an advisor of some sort.”

Your head tilts, your heart rate going crazy in your chest but, your curiosity and it’s need to be sated override your need to be proper.

“Why do you keep looking at my hands?”

He still doesn’t look up but he does blush, nervous laughter emanating from his lips, “Because I want to hold them...”

At his confession, he looks up at you longing, his throat bobbing as he swallows and tries to discern your reaction.

Without thinking you unfurl your fingers and turn your palms so they are facing towards the sky, slightly embarrassed by the way that they shake.

“Then hold them.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen momentarily, shooting down at your upturned palms before he slowly, almost agonizingly places his own shaking hands atop yours.

Simultaneously, the two of you intertwine your fingers, feeling the erratic pulse of one another.

“It’s good to know that my heart isn't the only one that’s pounding.”

Nervously, you giggle and nod rapidly, “Definitely. I thought I was the only one...”

He chuckles in response, stepping towards you a little more so you can feel the heat coming off of his body.

The two of you stand there in silence, enjoying the feeling of one another and the simplicity of the act you’re performing.

Words fall short on your tongue because, you are truly in awe of the way you feel and, part of you worries that you’re actually dreaming.  

A shout nearby, coming from one of your fellow villagers rips the two of you out of your moment as Yoongi suddenly remembers why he came this way in the first place.  

He drops your hands and steps back, feeling slightly regretful that he let go of you so abruptly.

“I’m sorry.” He clears his throat, looking back towards the voice before gesturing to the forest, “I should go- my men will come looking for me if I’m gone too long.”

Quickly, you nod in understanding, stepping a few inches back, “Of course. Thank you for the talk- it was-”

“I’d like to come by the river more often while I’m here- if that’s alright with you.” He interrupts you, his voice a little shaky as he clears his throat again.

Knowingly, you grin, “I don’t own the river Yoongi...”

Your quip breaks the bit of tension between you and he chuckles, his hands adjusting his clothes unnecessarily.

“I’m aware, Ms. Apothecary. I was just implying that-”

You interrupt him now with a smirk rushing to your lips, “You were implying that we should cross paths again.”

Yoongi bites his lip, cheeks the color of summer roses, “Yes.”

“I think we should too.”

This makes him smile and for a moment, he looks like a young man, completely rid of any burdens.

It’s a good look.

“Are you ok to walk back on your own?”  

You want to tell him no but, the light from the main street is yards away and after that, your home is only 5 minutes by foot.

“Yes.” You nod to the forest behind him, “Are you ok to walk on your own?”

He rolls his eyes before chuckling, patting the sword at his hip, “I’ll manage.”

With one last parting smile, the two of you begin to go your separate ways.

Tonight, each of your minds would be filled thoughts of one another and if you were lucky, you’d cross each others path while you sleep.

One could only hope.

“Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight General Min.”

[ladylouoflothlorien]

Hey, love all your fics! They are so awesome! Could I request a Gimli/reader fic? Where the reader is also part of the fellowship and is a good friend of Aragons. Gimli likes her but thinks her and aragon is a thing but eventually finds out they aren't and that she likes him back?

Here it is anon! I hope you like it. 

For whom does thy heart beat?

Pairing: Gimli x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2623

Warnings: None

“Aragorn, hand over the flint.”

He was crouched beside a slightly damp pile of sticks, trying and failing to get it to light. Aragorn turned his head to the side, watching as you settled beside him with your hand held out, palm up. He exhaled through his nose, and though he tried to make it sound exasperated it merely sounded fond. 

You smiled as he placed the flint in your hand, the steel following moments later.

“You might be older than me, but you never quite mastered fire the way I did.”

As you spoke your tone was smug, teasing. It was an old argument, if it could even be called that. Aragorn didn’t reply, pretending to be above such conversation, but you didn’t need to look at him to know he’d be rolling his eyes. 

You didn’t look at him, however, focusing instead on creating sparks, and soon enough you’d gotten a small fire going. The orange flames leapt upwards, eating away at some of the inky blackness inside the cave the fellowship had found to shelter in for the night.

“You see Aragorn, it’s hardly difficult.”

At last you turned your head to look up at him, a very self-satisfied smile on your lips, until Aragorn brought his hand down on the top of your head suddenly, fingers messing up the strands of your hair. You let out an indignant squawk, and set about fixing your hair immediately, not once noticing the pair of Dwarven eyes intently watching the entire interaction.

~ Gimli glanced up at you briefly when the dying orc claimed that Aragorn was dead, and what he saw in your eyes made his stomach clench uncomfortably. Your face, which was normally so expressive, was completely blank, and your eyes – which were secretly Gimli’s favourite feature of your face – were glazed over, unseeing. It appeared to him that the life had completely disappeared from you. Even so, he did not once see you shed a tear… or at least, he did not see you do so until Aragorn had made his way back – alive, somehow – to Helm’s Deep. He watched as you walked towards Aragorn, and it was clear you didn’t fully believe what you were seeing until you were close enough to dig your fingers into his tunic. You’d cried then, all the tears that had built up since hearing him pronounced dead all pouring out at once.

The dwarf had seen the look on Eowyn’s face as you’d clung to Aragorn’s chest, and as Aragorn held you close in return. He fully understood how she felt, he only hoped his feelings weren’t so plainly written on his face. Later, when he noticed Legolas return the necklace to Aragorn, Gimli had felt a brief moment of confusion. Why hadn’t the Elf given it back to you after Aragorn fell? It was obviously a token of affection that you’d once given him. He came eventually to what he considered the most logical conclusion – that Legolas had kept hold of it for safekeeping until he felt you were emotionally ready to have it back.

He’d never known emotions to be so complicated. Of course, he was relieve to have his friend delivered back to them from beyond the grave – or at least, it felt that way – in fact he was more than just relieved, he was really very happy. He was, however, almost uncontrollably jealous when he had to watch Aragorn hold you close as you cried. More than that, he was disgusted with himself for being anything other than completely ecstatic upon Aragorn’s return, because he knew himself far too well to deny that there had been just a tiny part of him that was disappointed. If Aragorn was truly gone, he might eventually have gotten the chance to woo you. After all, he’d heard that humans were – unlike Elves and Dwarves – capable of loving more than once in their lifetimes. ~

You were sitting alone beside a small fire outside your tent when Gimli came to sit beside you. Gondor had called for aid, and Rohan had – thankfully – decided to answer that call. There was still much that needed to be done, however, and after all the riding you’d been doing, you had to admit that you were quite exhausted. You were, despite your exhaustion, more than glad of Gimli’s company, as you’d developed quite a considerable fondness for the Dwarf. Aragorn had oft teased you of late that it was more than a mere fondness.

He nodded at you in greeting as he settled down, hands outstretched towards the fire. He looked just about as tired as you felt.

“What are you thinking of lassie?”

You gave him a look. He’d insisted on calling you that despite your own insistence that you were hardly young enough to warrant the term. Still, after you’d caught him calling Aragorn ‘laddie’ several times you’d warmed to the nickname considerably. You’d even overheard him call Legolas ‘lad’ once, and wasn’t that a laugh. Legolas was probably older than the rest of the fellowship combined, bar Gandalf, of course. You never had been entirely sure of the age of the sneaky old wizard.

“Nothing much really. I’m too tired to think of anything very interesting.”

He gave another nod and a slight grunt in response and you smiled. It would seem he was of the same mind. You watched as he rubbed his palms together for a moment before extending them back towards the campfire, and you found your ryes drawn to the heavy, rune-covered rings that made their homes on several of his fingers. A thought occurred to you suddenly.

“Are you married, master dwarf?”

Your question appeared to surprise him so much that he almost fell flat on his back, then, red-faced and spluttering, he managed to reply.

“No, no I’m not married. What made you ask that?”

It was your turn to blush. You could feel the heat in your cheeks, and you could only hope it was too dark for him to notice it. In an attempt to appear nonchalant, you took a deep but silent breath before replying yourself.

“Oh, no real reason… I just- your rings.”

You gestured somewhat helplessly in the vague direction of his hands.

“I have little knowledge of dwarven tradition, but humans typically wear rings to indicate their marriage status.”

You didn’t miss the way his gaze fell instantly to your hands, and you had to take another deep breath and remind yourself that it was likely because of his curiosity, nothing more.

“Your fingers are bare?”

He sounded confused, you thought. Perhaps it was just your imagination… had he believed you married? Ignoring the thought, you smiled sweetly and raised your hands, wiggling your fingers slightly.

“That would be because I’m not married, Gimli.”

His eyes widened slightly for a moment before he seemed to get his expression back under control. Maybe he really had thought you were married, though for the life of you, you couldn’t fathom why. Not wanting the silence to stretch on too long, you spoke again.

“How do dwarves show that they’re married?”

When he remained silent, you grew concerned. He appeared to be very far away in his thoughts. To regain his attention, you reached over and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Gimli?”

He seemed to shake himself and snap out of whatever funk he’d fallen into, and you breathed out a silent sigh of relief. Getting too lost in your thoughts when you’d been surrounded by so much death and destruction could hardly be healthy, at least you didn’t think so. Little did you realize, he had in fact been lost in thought, but he hadn’t been thinking about death and destruction at all.

“Forgive me lassie, did you ask me a question?”

You nodded, and then repeated the question. You were rewarded for your efforts with a long and extremely interesting explanation of dwarven courting customs, and of the importance of hair and braids and beads. You’d listened intently to the whole thing, never once suspecting that the entire time he spoke, Gimli had been imagining putting a bead in your hair.

~

The war was won, Sauron was defeated, and Aragorn was preparing for his coronation later in the day. Despite all this good news, Gimli found that he was not entirely satisfied. He could find no evidence that you were going to be included in the coronation. In fact, any evidence he had found on the subject seemed to suggest the exact opposite. When he’d first discovered that you and Aragorn were not, in fact, married, Gimli had felt practically overwhelmed with hope, but it hadn’t taken long for him to berate himself. The fact that the two of you weren’t yet married didn’t necessarily indicate a lack of commitment. After some thought, Gimli had realised that you were probably waiting for some stability, and he’d decided that it wasn’t his place to judge either of his good friends for making such a decision.

Now, however, he could conceive of no valid reason as to why Aragorn should not end your waiting and as you to marry him, and then furthermore to include you in the coronation ceremony. Gimli did not see the point of Aragorn being coronated alone, when no doubt all that would lead to would be a whole other ceremony when you inevitably would need to be crowned Queen. Gimli’s annoyance and concern abated somewhat when he noticed that you appeared perfectly happy as you rushed about helping Aragorn to prepare. Perhaps, he mused, the two of you did have some other reason for this course of action. Perhaps you had already discussed the matter at length behind closed doors. Perhaps even this whole thing was your idea, and you wouldn’t take kindly to his concerned which, he realised, could be unfairly removing your agency in the situation and your ability to decide for yourself what you wanted. He chastised himself, and resolved to try and think no more about it. 

The time of the coronation arrive, and it truly was a beautiful affair. Gimli wasn’t too proud to admit it brought a tear to his eye more than once.

The ceremony was not, however, beautiful enough that it could prevent the small stab of annoyance when those blasted Elves showed up and seemed to make the whole thing about them. This was Aragorn’s special day, and if anyone else was going to make it about them, then that person should surely be you. But wait! What on Middle Earth? Aragorn was… kissing that Elf? Gimli looked to you immediately, horrified, but you merely seemed… happy for him?

The dwarf suddenly realised that almost everything he knew and believed as to the nature of the relationship between you and Aragorn was based on assumptions, and as it appeared to turn out, incorrect assumptions at that.

The rest of the ceremony passed by him in something of a blur. He barely noticed when everyone bowed down, his body moving automatically to follow the movements of everyone around him. Later, when he’d finally pulled himself together, he realised that he needed to talk to you as soon as possible. He’d made his peace with loving you silently from the side-lines when he believed that you and Aragorn were in a committed relationship, but now he knew that wasn’t the case, he had to speak. He knew if he didn’t speak soon, he’d soon feel as though his emotions were overwhelming him once again.

~

It was dusk, and you were leaning over a pale stone wall watching the daylight slowly fade out of the city below and around you. You didn’t even notice the dwarf walking over to you until he cleared his throat. When you looked at him, he seemed nervous, and that wasn’t a look you’d seen on him very often.

“Is there something I can do for you, master dwarf?”

You asked, trying to sound light-hearted in a way that might prevent the genuine concern you felt from sneaking into your voice. Gimli smiled at you, but the expression seemed a little too forced. He muttered something under his breath, but didn’t attempt to say anything at a volume you’d actually be able to hear.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

He muttered something again, shuffled where he stood, and finally held out his hand to you. There was something resting in the centre of his palm.  

“For you, if you’ll take it.”

You looked closer at what was resting in his palm, and when you realised it was a bead, your mind instantly went back to the conversation you’d had with him about dwarven courting customs and your face went bright red. Still, you weren’t going to let any shyness get in the way of what you wanted. Without wasting time, you reached out and picked up the bead. Before your eyes, you saw the tension practically bleed out of him. Gimli let out a somewhat shaky breath and then you watched as an almost blinding smile took over his entire face.

“Don’t you need to braid this into my hair?”

The two of you made your way over to a bench where you could rest whilst Gimli took care of the braiding. You knew exactly what this gesture meant, and whilst it was a little sudden and unexpected, you couldn’t deny that you’d wanted it for a while, and if you felt his hands tremble slightly as he ran his fingers through your hair… well, you certainly weren’t going to mention it. Still, you felt as though the silence had dragged on long enough.

“Have you liked me for very long, master dwarf?”

More muttering, and then you heard him clear his throat.

“Aye lass, I have.”

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips, and yet you were also a little confused.

“Why did you wait this long to tell me? Were you waiting until Sauron was defeated?”

You snuck a glance at him, and were delighted to find that his cheeks were almost as red as his hair. After a brief pause, he replied quietly.

“I thought…” He paused again, and you could tell he was deeply embarrassed by what he was trying to say.

“I thought you and Aragorn were…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, but he didn’t have to, you could tell what he meant. Despite yourself, you burst out laughing. Gimli frowned, his eyebrows furrowing together in a mock display of annoyance, but to you the expression looked far to suspiciously like a pout.

“Oh sweet Eru, me and Aragorn? He practically helped raise me.”

Gimli’s eyebrows lifted suddenly. That certainly brought new context to your interactions with the now-crowned King of Gondor.

“You know, I think he might actually have been in the room when I was born. We’ve become more like friends since I’ve been of age, but some part of me will always see him as my uncle Aragorn. That’s what I used to call him, even though he’s not really my family.”

Beside you, you finally heard Gimli’s deep chuckle as he too began to see the humour in the situation. His fingers left your hair then, and you reached up to gently run your own over the braid and the bead sitting safely at the end of it. It was the start of something serious with the dwarf you’d grown to love over the past year, and you could hardly wait.

Later, when the two of you found yourselves in the company of other people once again, Aragorn was the very first person to wish you both well.

The End. Permanent Tags:  @sweeticedtea @cd1242 @strongandfreedc @pixierox101 @jotink78 @luna-xial @underthemoon-n @anangelwhodidntfall @marvelschriss

[prose-for-hire]

The shelves have eyes

Pairing: Rupert Giles x fem!reader

Request: Can we show Giles some love pleeeeaaase? Some cute story where a new hire for the shop is witty and flirty and it makes him stumble over his words and all of the scoobies try to encourage him to go for it (and even Spike is like "mate, she's doing bloody everything but throw her panties at you") and he finally just goes for it and kisses her! OMG I JUST HAVE SO MUCH LOVE FOR THAT CUTE HUMBLE LITTLE BRIT 😭😭😭

Requested by: Anon

A/N: My first published Giles fic! Enjoyed writing this, I hope this is okay !!

You were new to the store, Giles needed an extra hand around the shop and he was all too happy when you turned up for the interview. You quickly settled into the job, working so closely with the man was the best part for you.

He caught your eye immediately and he was just as enamoured with you. You lit up the room when you were in it, he barely cleaned his glasses when you were around, not able to bear to look away from you for a moment. He enjoyed that you were witty, intelligent and you made him smile. It was a good set of qualities to have when there was an apocalypse threatening to happen almost every week.

He properly noticed his affection for you one Wednesday afternoon in the store. He had muttered something after Xander spoke, mostly to himself, but you had caught it and it had made you giggle. He looked up, catching your eye. A wry smile as he saw your appreciation for his humour.

Giles had definitely caught your eye. You had been trying to find ways to get him alone, away from his band of clingy teenagers to try and ask him if he wanted to spend some time after work with you. You had tried hinting subtly, smiling at him and offering bursts of affection when you weren’t being harassed by customers or demons getting in your way. You really liked this man, and you were sure there was something you were picking up from him. The only reason you hadn’t come out and asked was because he was technically your boss.

However, Giles had been looking extra cute one morning after stock-taking with his pen resting against his chin in thought. Something about the suit he had chosen and the little squint he was doing at the books did it for you, you had to act. Today.

“Y/n, would you be able to hand me the book for the spell?” he asked, barely looking up as he continued to squint a little at the book he was scanning through.

“You’re already casting a spell on me, is there someone else I don’t know about?” You say sweetly, trying a little more boldly.

“Well, uh, yes, uh-” he replied, taking the book and not finishing his sentence. You furrow your brow, unsure if you had misread his feelings or just come on too strong. Mentally, Giles was kicking himself. He couldn’t tell if you were teasing him or if it would be inappropriate to drop to one knee on the spot and profess his feelings that he had been battling with since he laid eyes on you.

Not battling because he didn’t want the feelings, he indulged in them in fact, because you were probably one of the most refreshing and interesting people he had come across since moving to Sunnydale. You smiled anyway, offering a little wink before leaving to attend to a customer. Your heart was beating so fast and you were completely distracted when the customer was talking to you. You were buzzing with excitement, you had finally said something. Shown something a little more than normal. Was it your imagination or was he about to say something back with a little smile on his lips?

After this, you became bolder. Hinting here and there, but it was never a good time. It was coming up to Halloween, which is the busiest period in the store. Plus, demons liked to get their evil plots out of the way before the actual night (the demon’s one night off).

You started to falter, your words failing you as he had never said anything back. He was unsure, he didn’t want to push himself on you. He knew he was supposed to be your boss and he couldn’t see why you would wish to pursue anything with him.

It was your week off and everyone had noticed the way Giles was moping about the place, missing you. He snapped at Buffy, who had been drafted in during your absence, for not doing it the way you did. Apparently, he was very used to the way you and he danced around the store together working in harmony. You knew the others’ steps intimately.

Finally, during your week away, the Scoobies decided to drop more than a hint. They cornered him, deciding that enough was enough. Everyone could see the way your flirtation

“Giles, we think you should go for it” Buffy finally broke the silence on the matter, “She’s nice, really nice – and she’s totally into you” Buffy insisted.

“G-man, make with the moving!” Xander insisted.

The way you smiled in each others presence. The way you were both in such a good mood since you met, with Gilles letting Buffy and the others off when things went wrong. Barely anything phased you and so they enjoyed your addition to the store. They caught you glancing at each other. You not-so-subtle gaze lingering, seemingly always wanting more.

“Giles, you should tell her!” Willow said quietly as Giles was caught, again, contemplating what had been said earlier. It had gone dark and instead of studying information on a demon, Giles was scanning the words and not taking anything in. He was only thinking of you. He took his glasses off, rubbing his forehead as he thought over Willow’s words as she took the book from him and read it herself instead as she was actually able to focus on the research.

“I do not wish to pressure her into anything…” Giles started, but was quickly cut off by another voice weighing in on the matter.

“Mate, she’s one bloody interaction away from throwing her knickers at you and sexy-dancing on one of the tables in the storefront” He rolled his eyes, exasperated, deciding to speak up. Giles hadn’t even noticed Spike had arrived. The vampire didn’t think he could handle you both giving each other the moon-eyes one more second. Giles opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t think of anything to say to this revelation. He only could have hoped this was the way you felt. Apart from the sexy-dancing on the tables, especially if the store was open. As Giles was considering the best way to move forward with you, Spike spoke up again, “Just give her what she wants, a good shag on the counter-top” Spike shrugged, thinking he was still being helpful.

“Get out. Bloody get out, you don’t talk about her in that crass way” Giles’ rage started to bubble to the surface, defending your honour despite you not being anywhere in the room. Stepping towards Spike to shove him. Spike just shrugged, stalking out of the front door before Giles hit him.

Of course you meant it, you were kind and you had been reserving your flirting for him, he just hadn’t been sure you meant it. He thought you saw him as this stuffy boss-type, but you knew he was so much more. You saw him, the humble man and his fierce care for those around him. You wanted him to know how amazing you thought he was. He was most importantly a good friend and confidant to you, with both of you spending long afternoons talking about your lives in the quieter periods.

So, when you returned after your week off just in time for the busiest day in the store, Giles had made his decision. All of the Scoobies had been drafted in and everyone had been told to dress up accordingly.

“Happy Halloween!” You smiled, fake vampire teeth in your mouth arms raised in mock-spooky stance, “Too much?” you asked, pulling the teeth out and smuggling them in your pocket. You didn’t want him to think you were childish, but you noted that he was smiling softly.

“Y/n, we need to talk” He said shortly, gesturing for you to follow him to a back room where rows of bookshelves held magical tomes that weren’t on sale to the public.

“I know I’ve been away and I wasn’t sure on the outfit but Buffy insisted that you would like it-” you winced a little as your words rushed out before he had managed to open his mouth. You had been dancing around your feelings, as well as each other in the store. He smiled, taking your hand as soon as you admitted this. Every doubt melted from his mind, now filled with only thoughts of holding you. Kissing you.

He leaned in, almost tentatively at first, kissing you, only building fervour when you enthusiastically kissed back. He pressed you against one of the bookshelves, his hand sliding along your collarbone and resting against your neck. His thumb rubbed along your jaw, moving your lips closer to his.

Just as you were willing him to deepen the kiss even further, he abruptly stopped. You frowned slightly, almost whining. That had been one of the best moments you had shared, the anticipation making the kiss sweeter. But now he had moved away so quickly. Had you done something terribly wrong? Did he regret what had just happened?

You had been so thrilled at the way he had just pulled you into that kiss. He had been so forthright; you hadn’t expected it. It was filled with meaning, your dance building up to the crescendo of the music. The kiss the perfect final note. You were desperate for his lips to be on yours again, for this not to be the end and your brow furrowed. You were still a little perplexed as to why he had moved from your embrace. He appeared to have understood your look and quickly put you at ease.

“Ah, it appears that the bookshelves have eyes” He indicated with his head to where the Scoobies had been giggling and watching the pair of you kiss from behind a bookcase. They weren’t making fun of you, just excitedly giggling because Giles had actually made a move. They scattered when they noticed you were looking in their direction and went to hide in the stockroom.

“Later then?” You offer and he nodded quickly, his demeanour changing as he felt that they were watching still. You grinned, leaning in for a peck on his lips before skipping off to the counter to serve some customers that had started to form a long queue. You were both grinning so wide your faces were aching and you knew that this wasn’t going to be the last kiss you shared together.

[jarofstyles]

Fan Club II

A/N: Let the tension begin to build 😈This part is a little shorter than the others but it’s a necessary step - n + d

send feedback and requests here

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: angst, anxiety attack, and tender moments

word count: 3.5k

Harry was confused on all levels. Y/N was in his brain like a damn worm and didn’t seem to ever be coming out of it. That was the most frustrating part. It had been about a week, his second bakery visit being short and sweet with another hug and asking for 2 more lemon squares, but he had been a bit bland with texting back. He was trying to distance himself. Not fall for the good girl next door act. 

“Harry, please at least make this believable tonight. I’ve seen a few tweets talking about you going to the bakery so someone must have been a fan in there, so make sure tonight you’re a gentleman to her. People are watching.” Jeff Warned. It wasn’t like Harry sat around and complained about her. He barely said a word. He did tell Jeff he didn’t trust her, but he had restricted any social media usage because he knew the moment he found Y/N’s pages he would stalk her for a while. He would need to make sure it didn’t happen. 

They were sharing a car to the restaurant, and everyone knew the secret so when they pulled up to Y/N’s place, Harry felt a little more relaxed. Jeff would take over until showtime at the restaurant. There would be paparazzi by the time they left, but going in would be far easier.

Y/N was nervous to say the least. This would be her first time being photographed officially with Harry, holding hands and everything. It was a big deal and she wanted to look nice. She had done her whole routine, showering and smelling nice, doing a light makeup that she saw all his past girlfriends do, and changed into her outfit. She felt sexy but still fashionable, definitely not too expensive. Just the right amount of everything. 

When she got the text saying the car was there, she knew it was game time. Y/N made sure to bring her keys, her phone, and wallet, putting it all in a small fashionable blue over the shoulder bag before walking to the elevator and making her way out to the car. 

“Hey.” Y/N smiled as she opened the door, climbing into the car and buckling up. God he looked delicious. His hair was all floppy, his outfit matching hers in a strange way. The two of them together looked good, she couldn’t lie. “You look nice.” She said once again, but she really did mean it. “Smell nice too.”

They both sat in the back seat, Jeff and his wife in the front. Harry smiled lightly and nodded. “Uh, thanks. You too.” He went back to his phone. Honestly, if he didn’t? He would have died. Honest to god died. Her tits looked immaculate. Harry hadn’t seen them like this before but he was nearly choking on the way he wanted to bury his face between them. The first he had dated weren’t really all that big in that department— nothing wrong with that. But she had the perfect amount. Perfect handfuls. Something he was positive would be lovely to suck on. Fuck— fucking hell. 

He had to look at his phone or he would get hard. Y/N smelled good too. Like coconuts, vanilla. He wasn’t sure if that was a perfume or a bakery thing but he enjoyed it thoroughly. They kind of matched, too. which was weird. They hadn’t discussed it. 

Y/N sighed a little, not really knowing what she was expecting considering they were in private. She would rather spend no time with him in private if this was the case. She went all out to look nice for him to just say, ‘you too���? God this would be hard. 

“Hi Jeff, hi Glenne, it’s nice to meet you.” Y/N spoke sweetly, “I’d give you a hug, but you know.” She chuckled and sat back, trying to ignore the fact that Harry was ignoring her. What a terrible fake boyfriend he was, really wasn’t into the whole method acting thing. 

“Hey!” Jeff greeted. “Are you ready for the first pap run?”

“You sound so cheery about it.” Y/N laughed, “I guess I’m ready.” She shrugged and pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear. “I reckon dinner will be fun, bit more excited about that. Get to chat with you all a little more.” It was the honest truth. She wanted to spend some quality time with Harry and with Jeff and his wife. If she was going to spend a full year knowing them? Hell, she wanted to make the most of it. She didn’t just want to fake being friends with them.

Was she serious? Harry thought. Come on. That wasn’t real. There was no way she actually thought they would buy that excuse. She didn’t give a fuck. No way. But of course— both of them bought into it. It was like Harry was the only one who could see that this was sketchy. That it wasn’t what was right. She was too sweet for her own good and that alone had Harry very, very suspicious. He listened to them chatter and took glances at her every so often. This would be torture for him. The whole thing. He was so physically attracted to her that he was worried that it may show when they weren't supposed to be acting. Y/N seemed to get along with them great. It was another thing that made him want to pull his hair out. She had to be bad in some way. No one was genuinely this nice and sweet without having a bad side. Gorgeous or not.

Jeff and Glenne were genuinely nice people, and Y/N was thankful that at least they were being open. Then again, Jeff was Harry’s best friend, then surely there was just something wrong with her. It had been a few days since they met and Harry wasn’t letting up no matter what she did. It would be a slow burn she assumed. She looked over at him, catching him already looking at her with a small smile. Y/N turned her attention back to the front of the car, watching as Jeff pulled up to the restaurant. 

It was go time. Y/N walked out of the car after Harry, moving her hand to hold on to his bicep as they walked towards the restaurant. She didn’t really have a method to her acting, she simply did whatever felt natural. Let herself go whenever they were out in public.

Harry placed his hand over hers and squeezed. He could tell she was nervous, and regardless he didn’t want her to be nervous here and feel upset. Especially when they’d be looked at and photographed. 

When they walked into the place, he looped an arm around her waist and let her lean into him. He felt a small hand on his jacket lapel and let her play with it as Jeff took care of the reservation arrangements. They’d been sat outside at a nice place with those bulb string lights, lots of plants. They’d be sat facing people so photos could be taken— but the people wouldn’t know that. He’d have to keep a good face this whole time. It was going to be a new challenge but part of him was giddy to be able to play it up and touch her during this time.

Y/N’s nerves weren’t really that noticeable, but to anyone else it would just seem like she was nervous because she was on a date with Harry. It was a normal reason to be nervous and frankly, she felt it made her seem more relatable. Despite the fact that Harry and Y/N were acting, they seemed to flow quite naturally and easily off of one another. It didn’t take a lot of effort, she just leaned into him whenever he touched her and vice versa.

“Ooo this is nice.” Y/N commented on the look of the place. She had obviously never been here before, but it looked like it would be good. The smell coming from the kitchen was incredible as well. “Thank you again for inviting us out..” Y/N said to Jeff, purposefully saying us instead of me so anyone who heard knew they meant Y/N and Harry as a pair. She scooted her chair a little closer to Harry, making sure there was enough space for them to have subtle touches if need be. Y/N wasn’t sure what Harry would want, but she wanted to have their options open and ready. She had never seen him actually interact with a woman like this except for when he was with Kendall and those photos leaked. She wondered how he would act when he meant for people to see.

Harry felt the pressure but also knew he was lucky Jeff was here to keep the conversation going. He was feeling a little awkward but fell into his conversation relatively easily. 

“So the bakery... Harry said it’s lovely. That the lemon squares are amazing.” Glenne broke the ice, opening up her menu. It was a midrange pricing so he was hoping that she wouldn’t freak too bad. Money really wasn’t an object to Harry. Granted, most of his clothes were gifted to him and he didn’t pay for much luxury items because they were sent for promotion, but he didn’t mind spending if it was for a good time. He had millions. 

“They are very good. I like them a lot. All of the things are great, though.” Harry complimented sincerely but she wouldn’t know that. His arm hung over the back of her chair, subtly showing ownership. that’s what it would come across as anyways. Most people wouldn’t know this about Harry but he was possessive, jealous, and pathetic when it came to his lovers. He didn’t like sharing. He loved being alone with them and being in their own worlds. He hadn’t had a perfect fantasy of that yet but he figured he may as well get out his affectionate wants when it was supposed to be shown. Pass it off as acting.

Y/N smiled brightly when her bakery was mentioned, her pride and joy. She was just about to speak when he complimented her baking even more. That was cute. Too bad it was all acting. She needed to get out of that mind frame though and really sink into the character. She’d deal with her emotions at a later time. 

“That’s sweet, thank you.” Y/N smiled over at him, setting her hand on his thigh and rubbing her thumb against the fabric of his pants. “But yeah, my sister opened it up 5 years ago and I co-own. We have a solid flow of customers. It’s really fun, we’ve been saving to get it refurbished.” Y/N explained, also looking down at the menu. She quickly decided on the grilled miso salmon and carried on speaking. “I want to buy the upstairs bit as well. Want to open it up to local musicians to have gigs there and stuff. Also possibly wanted to do a kids baking class. Lots of ideas.” Y/N smiled, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. She was really ambitious and career driven, always wanting to improve. It was something she took pride in and hopefully Harry would come to admire about her.

Harry was impressed. She had ideas and they didn’t seem to involve being famous, so to speak. She seemed to want her bakery to do well but anyone who had a business desires it to thrive.

“That’s a lovely idea, pet.” His hand took purchase on her shoulder then. It was bare, jacket off so he ran his thumb over the softness of her skin there. Absolutely delicious. Y/N had to know that she was fucking gorgeous. That she had inspired many a man’s fantasies. He could see down her shirt slightly and had to adjust slightly, knowing he would get a stiffy if he continued. Harry was watching for any telltale signs she was lying but from what he could tell, she really did want to do that to her bakery. And that was pretty admirable. 

It took a second for Y/N to relax into Harry’s touch, not having expected it. The feeling of his rough calloused fingers caused butterflies to erupt in her tummy. She could only imagine how good they would feel on her clit— fuck she had to stop. 

“Lots of musicians in the town would thrive off of it. A little bit of exposure and a place to play goes miles for people who aren’t very hopeful.” Jeff confirmed. “You’ll have to ask Harry for opinions when you do that. He’s good at that stuff— the stage design.”

Y/N hummed in response, “I’m sure Harry could come up with some brilliant ideas, always does.” She complimented, sending him a small wink just to keep the ball rolling. It was nice to be able to flirt and know that it was meant to be reciprocated. Maybe this whole acting thing wouldn’t be too bad? She could just live out her fantasies like this. 

The waiter came and brought over a bottle of wine for the table and took all of their orders. Though the restaurant was mid range, she still had a feeling that this was a place posh people went. She’d have to get used to that as well. Y/N felt too normal for places like this, but then again, Jeff was really good at making her feel comfortable.

To Harry, the dinner was weird. Not in a bad way. But he had found that their chairs had gotten closer during the meal. They’d touched each other a bit— not sexually. Or trying to be sexual, he should say. He had been living out part of a mental fantasy, letting her hold his hand and play with his rings when they waited for the food to come. Y/N hadn’t gone for the most expensive thing— rather a cheaper item and he had tried coaxing her into getting something a bit more, but she said no. It was weird that she was acting like money didn’t motivate her. Isn’t that why she took the damn job? But they’d been touching subtly and talking, Harry smiling down at her pretty little face. He had an urge to kiss her too— which had scared the fuck out of him. He wanted to swoop in and taste her gloss before it went away but he couldn’t. When they finished though, Harry looked at her and began to talk. 

“Listen— May get intense, yeah? Lots of cameras flashing. Just hold on to my hand and don’t let go.” He was serious. There were a lot of cameras and a lot of flashes and he didn’t want her to freak.

This part did make Y/N nervous. The cameras. She had seen pap videos previously and they always made her uncomfortable to watch. It was scary having people say things to you whilst bright cameras were flashing. 

“Okay, I trust you.” Y/N told him in a soft voice, giving him a small smile that really was only meant for him. Part of her didn’t want this night to be over, she wanted to hang out with him some more and chat with him. It was her day off tomorrow so she didn’t mind staying up late and going home if that’s what he wanted. She doubted he would want her to stay the night.

Harry held her hand and as soon as they stepped out, the cameras flashed like crazy. Asking Harry to look at them, to say who his girl was. Who she was. How old she was, what’s her name. Were they dating? But Harry got irritated when he felt her move behind him, seeing someone had pushed her slightly and she had stumbled. He stopped in the middle, gently grabbing her hip and pulling her to walk with him. 

“Be careful, mate.” Harry said to the pap, brows furrowed. “Alright, love?” Y/N looked flustered, but nodded. So he continued on, lifting her by her waist and putting her in the car before climbing in behind her. Genuine concern took over when he saw her breathing heavier, face knitted in concern as he gently pulled her over and let her hide her face in his neck. His glare was actually visible to the outside where people took photos through the windows before Jeff sped off. “Hey.. Y/N? You okay?” Harry spoke, pulling her back.

The experience was something Y/N couldn’t explain. As a person who had mild anxiety, she thought that she could handle a situation like that but it was intense in a way that she truly didn’t know what to explain to anyone. You really just had to experience it to know. When she was pushed it really sent her into a small panic, trying her best to hide her face a little now that she’d felt what paps could really be like. Harry came through though and genuinely helped her. She was so thankful for him and for him sticking up for her as well. It meant a lot. It went by so quickly she could barely process it, a bit shaky and out of breath. Going off instinct she nuzzled her face into Harry’s neck, taking deep breaths to calm herself down and relax. It was over, she had jumped the first hurdle and things would get easier from there. At least that’s what she told herself. 

“Y—yeah, I’m okay... that was just.. a lot.” Y/N told him in a soft voice, still close to him but she wasn’t sure if that was okay. Y/N decided that it would be more hurtful if he moved her off than if she moved herself, but she really couldn’t do that right now. “I’ll be okay, just need a second..”

“It’s okay.” Harry rubbed her back a few times. He wasn’t a complete asshole. She was obviously shaken and he couldn’t even blame her. He wasn’t sure why so many had popped up— he was positive they’d only called for 3 but, that’s a later question. “You’re alright? Yeah? Shit’s scary sometimes but you made it through.” He didn’t know why he slightly melted but seeing her in genuine fear and feeling her shake slightly against his body made his urge to protect her come right to the front. “Jeff, drive around for a bit, yeah? Pop into Waitrose and get her a drink.” He could tell that she was going to be okay but needed a little coddling. He continued to rub her back and let her hide in his neck. Her breath was hot against his neck, and he felt her start to calm down.When Jeff came back, Harry gave her the drink and gently peeled her away, letting her stay seated close to him. “Slow sips. Just relax. You did great.”

Y/N kept herself nuzzled into the crook of his neck while she waited, finding that to be the safest place on earth. She relaxed just by taking in his scent and feeling his heart beat through the pressure point that beat against where her nose was. That combined with his hand on her back was doing the trick. This wasn’t acting and she knew it wasn’t. It gave her hope that he wasn’t in fact a shit person, he was concerned and cared enough to ask Jeff to drive around some more and get her a drink. She really did appreciate it and him. 

“Thank you.” Y/N said quietly, taking the bottle into her still slightly shaky hands and took a small sip before taking another slow one. Y/N did do great, she knew she did. She had seen enough pap videos to know how to elegantly carry herself, but there were way too many paps there. She’d never seen that many. Maybe people were just that excited to see Harry have a girlfriend.

Harry knew later on he wouldn’t regret being kind to her right now. She was genuinely terrified and he didn’t want that for anyone. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe she didn’t want fame, but that didn’t mean he could trust her. Maybe he could be nicer. But he had to keep a distance because his cock was not on board with that. It wanted to bury itself in her plump little ass. But whatever— he could use that visual later. 

“You’re alright, Y/N.” Harry watched her carefully. “Didn’t know that many were going to be out there but, don’t worry. We’ll make sure we do our very best so that doesn’t happen again.” She wouldn’t get away from paps— but having 20 flashing cameras blinding her and pushing? That wouldn’t ever happen again. He was willing to risk his career on that. No human decency. 

“Now, let's get you home.”

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

[part 3]

A/N: H is soft, he cracks under pressure 🤧- n + d

let us know what you think! 

masterlist

[borgiin]

               “  she was her father’s daughter but she’d inherited her mother’s                   black anger. it burned through her sometimes like a chemical fire. “

{ cis woman, she/her } ❝ walk like pepper spray, like don’t fucking touch me. walk like the knife in your pocket is in your hands, like you were born with it there, because weren’t you? ❞ huh, who’s KATIE DOUGLAS? no, you’re mistaken, that’s actually VICTORIA BORGIN. she is a 21 year old PUREBLOOD witch who is a BUYER FOR BORGIN AND BURKES. she is known for being DUPLICITOUS, IRASCIBLE, RECKLESS, SHORT-FUSED, and LACKADAISICAL but also INDEPENDENT, PROTECTIVE, UNSWERVING, VALIANT, and BEGUILING, so that must be why she always reminds me of the song DEVIL LIKE ME BY RAINBOW KITTEN SURPRISE and A FLIRTATIOUS SMILE USED WITH ABANDON; PUNCHING A HOLE IN THE WALL AND COVERING IT WITH A MIRROR; COFFEE SO DARK AND BITTER IT FEELS LIKE PUNISHMENT; HEELS HELD IN YOUR HAND AS YOU WALK BAREFOOT OVER GRAVEL; SLIPPING INTO THE COOL LONELINESS OF YOUR BED AT FOUR AM. i hear she is aligned with THE DEATH EATERS, so be sure to keep an eye on her. { zoe, 22, cst, she/her }

ADDITIONAL MATERIALS:   victoria’s playlist, stats page, & pinterest board CONTENT WARNINGS:    car accidents, death of a spouse / partner, parental manipulation

one. 

nicholas borgin ii was an exceptionally smart young wizard who was unburdened by the war that had ruled his father’s youth. his father was happy for him, in a way; nicholas sr. thought his son was his most shining achievement. it was easy for him to want the best for his beautiful, clever, perfect son. it was easy to be proud that he could do better than be someone else’s follower. it was easy to be happy that he would get to do better than that. 

well, easy in theory. in practice, nothing was easy about nic deciding that he wanted to continue his education abroad once h graduated from hogwarts. there were several fine magical colleges in the united states and nic was eager to branch out from the british wizarding society he’d known all his life. he’d done all the right things up to that point; he attended all the dinners with his parents’ old friends, he’d been sorted into slytherin, made a prefect, earned the respect of all his professors. enough respect that a few of them encouraged he look to further his studies outside of hogwarts’ walls. 

nic had such a good head on his shoulders. he never once insinuated that he wouldn’t look to take over duties at the shop, one day. when he broached the subject of college in america with his parents, he was certain to assure nicholas sr. that his studying spell invention would only help the shop; after all, he said, wouldn’t it be wonderful if they could sell certain members of their clientele custom charms and spells? 

it was hard for nicholas to find a reasonable excuse to quash his son’s dream. he had a bad idea about him fucking off to the united states to study, but it was unfounded, his wife assured him  —  nic knew he was the future of the borgin name and had only ever done things that helped the family. this would be no different. 

that was that. nic was a smooth talker before he was anything else; he hadn’t been lying to his parents when he gave his big speech to sell them on the idea of a magical college in america. he really did think that there would be a way to incorporate whatever he learned into the shop’s whole, like, business model. at least, he really did think he was smart enough to find a way to incorporate it. no, nic hadn’t been lying. he was a smooth talker but he rarely lied  —  he just knew how to tell the truth in such a way that it was what other people wanted to hear. 

nic wanted to go to leave the country for a little bit before he had to settle down and become old and serious, the face of the borgin name. he was smart enough that college in the united states was an option, the easiest at his disposal. it was simple as breathing to tell his family that it was what he wanted his first step to look like, when step two was coming home and doing something at borgin & burkes for the betterment of the family business. 

two. 

he hadn’t had any real ulterior motive when he left for the georgia college of magical mechanics. nic just thought he was too  —  too young to set off down the path his family wanted just yet. too young, too smart, too pretty; nic was a smooth talker, sure, and a little bit of a narcissist, but none of that was unfounded. he was a hot commodity on campus, and it took almost no time at all for him to fancy himself in love with two fellow students, and for them to fancy themselves in love with him in return. 

helen beauvais and anthony fontaine had been a package deal almost their whole lives. both the fontaines and the beauvais’ were large families of excellent pedigree with a proclivity towards mapping out their children’s lives. the families drafted up a betrothal agreement as soon as helen and anthony could toddle and they all saw how sweetly the two children played together. 

helen and anthony were, by and large, fine with this. they’d had their whole lives to be fine with it. first they were each other’s best friend and later they fell in love and neither really knew if that was nurture or nature; and they’d never know, so it was easy not to care, not when the perfect lives they’d been handed suited them well enough. they’d wanted to go to college before they got married and their families were fine with that  —   largely because all involved knew they would get married, as soon as they were done with school and ready for the rest of their lives. it was a forgone conclusion.

nic was a surprise to helen and anthony (who had always been a matched set; and never thought somebody else could match them, too), but he was a pleasant one. all three of them were equals and all three of them loved each other, dearly. they attended seminars and galas and winged-horse races together, the trio standing off to the side, untouchable; their peers’ envy was an almost palpable thing. they were the brightest things at the georgia college of magical mechanics. no one else came close. 

they were, of course, such smart and clever and forward-thinking individuals, who cared naught for blood purity. the only reason none of them ever interacted with muggles and muggleborns was obviously because they were so smart and clever and forward thinking that, of course, their circles were a little exclusive. 

nic’s parents weren’t pleased with this dalliance; it was nice that nic, at least, wasn’t sullying himself with people of impure blood, but really. the borgins wouldn’t get any heirs out of this extended diversion. fontaines and the beauvais’ weren’t exactly pleased with this wrench in their plans, either. it didn’t look great that their perfectly matched children had sought out a poly relationship. but they both decided to look the other way as long as the pair of them fulfilled their betrothal. the borgins were a little less forgiving. 

after college, nic stayed in the states  —  that’s where his partners were, and he knew his parents didn’t approve of them. it was the first time nic had ever had to take a stand, but it was a hard choice was fine with making. the shop would wait, or it wouldn’t; his father would cave, or he wouldn’t. nic was just fine with the life he’d landed himself in. 

in a short time the fontaines and beauvais’ warmed to nic, or at least seemed to: if not as their children’s partner then as a person. he’d take it. they knew of the shop and what it had done to supply the dark lord during his time in power; they figured, there were worse families to find themselves loosely allied with. 

three. 

helen and anthony got married and everyone remarked on how lucky they were to have their good friend nicholas so close to them during the celebrations. they bought a house and everyone laughed at how fun it was that they decided to let their close friend nicholas move in, too. less than a year after the wedding, the couple had a child, and everyone noted how sweet it was that their dear friend nicholas doted on the baby girl. 

everybody knew the three of them were together, that little victoria was his as much as she was theirs. everybody knew; but helen and anthony got married and polite society breathed a collective sigh of relief at finally having a legal excuse to pretend nic was nothing more than the pair’s very best friend. the younger people in their set were all quick to assure the three of them that they were happy they were happy; but their parents still made the guest lists. 

the big house they lived in saw two sets of invitations, sometimes; always one for mr. and mrs. fontaine, and another for mr. borgin when his presence was necessary. nic’s parents begged him to come home; he and helen and anthony drafted wills when they were all too young to really think of death, deciding that they were better safe than sorry when it came to their daughter’s future. 

the three of them resigned to the awkward dance they had to do to carry on with their lives in georgia; nic knew that helen and anthony didn’t want to uproot their lives, but they all talked about the possibility of relocating to nic’s wales so he could take over the shop  —  his family, he thought, might be so glad to have him back they forgave his choice of relationship. all of them were tired of being told they weren’t living their lives right, but they had time to figure out what to do with that tiredness.  

sometimes it almost felt like they were accepted; other times it was clear nic was being snubbed. he was just the easiest target for it, of the three of them; he was the only outsider. he was rarely left off society guest lists, or those hosted by their fellow gcmm alums, but the fontaine and beauvais made it clear that he had no real place at important family events. helen and anthony rebelled against this as best they could, by leaving victoria at home with her dad whenever all four of them weren’t explicitly invited. 

the three of them said their goodbyes for the evening before helen and anthony left for one such event, and the next thing nic knew, his partners were dead at the hands of some drunk muggle  —  the flashy car the trio used crushed like a tin can into a tree at the side of the road. 

it hit nic really hard. of course it did; he lost both the loves of his life in one fell swoop. he was still so young. he hadn’t had a war like his father had, to prepare him for the reality of death. 

at their funerals, helen and anthony’s families were all grieving too much to keep up the pretense of politeness he’d always gotten from them before. it was one thing to know that they didn’t approve of his relationship with their children and another to feel truly hated for having been close to them at all. nicholas was, at least, morbidly pleased they’d all thought to leave extensively detailed wills; there was no way for either the fontaine or the beauvais families to leave him out of the funeral preparations like they’d tried to leave him out of so many other things. 

it felt like he’d barely buried them before both families started making thinly veiled threats about finding a way to take victoria from him. nic was mourning, still so deeply hurt and traumatized at losing both of the people he loved, and feared that they could find a way. he packed all the things he couldn’t bear to leave in a rush, and hightailed it out of america in the dead of night, landing in entrance to his family’s home in wales before he could think of another option. his mother hugged him and her granddaughter to her chest the moment she saw them; his father tried as best he could not to say I told you so.

(his best wasn’t that hard. borgins were, at their core, stubborn assholes. nic was too hurt to mind his father’s smug righteousness.)

four. 

victoria had never known helen and anthony, not really; but she felt their impact in every little crevice of her life, like a heavy coating dust that couldn’t be swept away. her grandfather had bit his tongue on his harsher I-told-you-so’s by reminding his son that muggles were ultimately responsible for the death of the people of loved  —  whatever it took to keep him close to his family and never want to leave again. almost immediately after nic had returned with victoria, he took over his father’s duties at borgin & burkes. 

it took almost no coaxing from his father at all for nicholas to wholeheartedly give himself into borgin & burke’s mission statement, to protect the legacy of magical artefacts. nic had always thought himself too smart to fall into the trap of blood purity talk, but grief really changed him. seeing his partners’ families really turn on him fucked him up, and he never got over feeling like he’d nearly lost his daughter. the damage was done; he might have left for america as a freer-spirited borgin, a smooth talker with a devil-may-care attitude, but he returned jaded and wary. 

he was a good, devoted father to little victoria. when she was older, part of her wondered if he hadn’t thought he had to be the best dad to make up for doing the job mostly alone when he’d always expected to have two other parents to help with her. he was protective of his little girl  —  over protective, victoria thought. controlling. from the very start of her life, she was not a person to be controlled; it figured her father was the only person who ever really tried. 

she’d been born with her hands formed into fists. all three of her parents had cooed over this, when she was barely born, but the truth of it was there if any of them had cared to look: she was always ready to swing first

victoria grew up firmly under her father’s thumb. she was his miracle, his darling daughter; he looked at her and saw the ghosts of the loves of his life and wanted, fiercely, for no harm to ever come to her. it grated on victoria in a way that she kept tightly under wraps. she wasn’t ever sure if she was a product of nurture or nature. maybe any child raised by her silver-tongued, clever father would have equal mastery over lies. maybe victoria did, because he held the reigns so tightly she’d had to learn how to pretend to abide by what he wanted for her just to steal a little breathing room. 

her father hadn’t wanted to half-ass his life, not when he saw himself as the only person looking out for his daughter. he’d been fine living amongst whispers for the sake of true love when he was young and careless, but he knew now that he needed stability for his family. not just victoria, either; he needed stability for the shop, for the family legacy. 

he married valentina dolohov within a year of his triumphant return home. valya was a widow herself, looking for a little stability for her and her children now that her true love was gone. she and nic understood each other. they were a perfect match; they knew that if they wed their tragedies would stop being gossip fodder. they could fade peacefully into their adulthood, content that their spouse understood them if they didn’t love them. neither of them put much stock in love, now. 

little victoria was a flower girl; one of valya’s children was the ring bearer. everybody invited gushed about how perfect nic and valya were for each other, raved over how lovely the wedding had been. just like that, it was as if everybody forgot about the years nic had spent in america (and forgotten just how little victoria came to be). out of sight, out of mind. he and his new wife both had things they’d prefer to leave in their pasts.  

five. 

victoria didn’t, like, hate her stepmom, or anything. she’d honestly never understood why they were always the villains in fairy tales. valya might have never tried to be victoria’s mom, but victoria thought that was part of why they worked. her father was parent enough for victoria. she had a good relationship with valya, anyway  —  she might not have been victoria’s mother, but she was the only mother-figure she’d ever really had, unless she counted theo’s mom. victoria thought valya always knew when victoria was lying to her father, but she never told on her. victoria loved her for that alone; she lied to her father a lot. it was nice to have someone around who would keep that secret for her. 

feeling things was always a struggle for victoria. she was glad her stepmom never asked her to love her; that wasn’t the sort of thing victoria could feel just because she was meant to. it was frustrating to try. and she did try when she was younger, often, to feel the things she thought she was meant to. she was just bad at it, and that would never change, and she got so angry when she thought of trying so hard at something so silly. it made her want to find something to hit, or somewhere to run, or something to do. anything to do. 

she just knew that she was so bad with feelings that weren’t  ...  anger, maybe. frustration. it was the softer emotions that confused her when they came until she didn’t know what to do with them. it was easier to pretend she didn’t have them, to try and will them away. she hated feeling soft.

valya always understood that better than nic did. victoria’s father loved her so much; it was smothering. he loved his perfect daughter, the tiny, helpless girl that needed his protection. victoria had never been that girl  —  sometimes she wondered if it was doing both of them more harm than good when she pretended to be that girl for him. it was just that it was easier, so much easier, to let him think what he wanted about her so their relationship never had to be even a little complicated. maybe it was doing them more harm than good, but it was easier, too. victoria loved the easy route too much to let it go. 

when it came time for victoria to go to hogwarts, she was a hatstall. the gross looking thing sat on the head of curls valya had carefully set before victoria’s departure and couldn’t seem to get her. what else was new, right? gryffindor or slytherin, green or red. she was a little overly self concerned but lacking in any real ambition, bored with bullies; angry and prone to acting on that anger, quick to stick with the sides she chose, eleven and already tired of existence. she picked gryffindor just to speed up the whole affair, on the reasoning that gold would look better with her complexion than silver.

she wrote back home to share the news and it was true that no one was really surprised. 

six. 

when her father and valya got married, nic brought victoria to the table and valya brought kids of her own who bore the dolohov name. victoria thought that no one but her grandfather would have really blamed the couple for not wanting to add even more kids into the mix. such a pity that grandfather was always the loudest voice in any crowd; victoria might have been the shortest of all her siblings, but she was far from the youngest. 

by the time some of her younger half-siblings started writing home with news of their own hogwarts sortings, victoria’s grandfather started leaving hints that maybe victoria wasn’t the one who nic should prepare to take over the shop, one day. nic had slowly started to get a more full picture of who his daughter was  —  she still only dropped all pretenses of being nice and sweet when she was away from her father. but still, she loved physical exertion. she excelled on a broom and led the complex games she and her siblings played. she loved winning, but more than that, she adored the way her mind fell silent when her body was being forced past its limits. 

victoria was never happier than when she had bruises on her fists and legs and blood singing in her ears, and it was something her father had noticed. he’d started to think about how useful that competitive spirit would be once she was old enough. 

her grandfather, though, thought that even the most ruthless, business-minded disposition wouldn’t make up for the fact that she didn’t have a drop of borgin blood. how lucky for all of them that she wasn’t business-minded in the slightest. he wanted nic to start looking at his younger kids to take over one day. 

he wasn’t shy about sharing this fact with victoria, either; the two of them got together for tea all the time when victoria was home, so they could play wizard’s chess and discuss how she was doing at school. he told her point blank that he didn’t think she had what it took to take over the shop, and seemed to expect her to be pleased with this news. just think, victoria, he told her, now you can set your sights on  ...  professional quidditch, or something more suited to you. 

which was pretty much the nail in the coffin on whatever half-baked dreams sixteen-year-old victoria had actually had of her life after school. no fucking way was she going to let her grandfather push her out of the way and tell it was for her own good. she knew she was one of the only ones in the family who could ignore how hard he tried to impose his will. he was stubborn, but she could out stubborn him. 

the last thing she wanted was to see him pluck one of her younger siblings out of their life and into whatever mold he wanted them to fill. she’d put her ear to the door during enough of his meetings with her father and stepmom to know that the three of them knew things about the azkaban breaks. there was talk of another war, or something like it, and victoria didn’t especially want to fight but she knew as well as she knew anything that it was better her than any of her siblings. 

she might not have had borgin blood, but she was a borgin through and through. no one else was taking the fall for her. 

five. 

she still wasn’t business-minded, but she figured that she didn’t actually need to be, yet. she spent the rest of her time at school doing what she could to keep her father from trying to groom one of her younger siblings for the job or for the cause. it meant cracking a little bit of the veneer she always wore with him; he never stopped doting on her like she was a sweet, defenseless thing, but she knew that he knew better. valya seemed to be proud of her for stepping up, which made victoria feel conflicted in a way she did not want to examine much, thanks. 

victoria had always dug her feet in at the thought of assigning any of her actions innate morals. victoria dug her feet in at most things, but it was true: she didn’t like thinking that she was doing something because it was the ‘right choice.’ no one could ever convince her to do something just because it was ‘right.’ she sure as hell wasn’t going to start feeling like she was looking out for her siblings out of anything but a selfish sense of protectiveness.

yes, she was aware of the hypocrisy. but she thought she’d never needed looking after, not like they did. she’d been born ready to fight and none of them had that same fire in them, not that she could see. she didn’t especially believe in what she’d be fighting for but victoria didn’t think that mattered half as much as anything else. 

victoria had always been competitive when it came to school  —  she’d never been the one at the very top of her classes, but doing well mattered to her. doing well always mattered to her. it’s what always made teas with her grandfather so pleasant; the two of them were well matched at wizard’s chess and she was never afraid to give him a progress report on her n.e.w.t. studies. in her last years at school, she was even more determined to do well, to show him that she was the right choice  ...  that she was the only choice. 

when she got out of school she dropped quidditch like it had been a hot coal held in her hand too long. she asked valya to take her shopping and completely overhauled her wardrobe until she had more crisp, respectable items of clothing than she knew what to do with. she reported for duty at the shop and greeted every customer with her most sugared smile. it took almost nothing from her to get people to sell borgin & burke’s their priceless magical artefacts. a half hour meeting with victoria and they were ready to give her first dibs on their great aunts’ estate. 

victoria was doing so well for the shop and for her family that she never stopped to wonder if she, like, liked the life she had. that didn’t matter; she wasn’t doing any of this for herself, so what the fuck did it matter if she was happy with it? 

six. 

victoria had always needed to stay in constant motion to feel content. there was this listless, restless feeling under her skin all the time that only seemed to calm when she was working herself to the bone over a goal. her goals during school had been simple. she wanted to do well in her classes, to win quidditch matches, to have fun at parties, and to keep her father from finding out too much about her. her goals now were a little more complex; she wanted to do well at the shop, to make herself indispensable. she wanted to pull her grandfather’s focus from any of her younger siblings. she wanted to keep making valya proud of her without doing anything that made her feel too sick to her stomach. 

victoria thought about moving out, getting her own apartment, but she wasn’t quite ready to leave home yet when there was so much going on. she started letting her father dote on her, just a little, when she got back to their home in wales after a long day. she let him bring her cocoa, or smooth her hair back when she sat going over a seller’s information on the couch. she was more an adult now than she’d ever been when she hated being coddled, but it felt  —  nice, to be coddled, just a little. 

things felt less real when she sat back and let her father ramble about whatever spell he was workshopping at the moment. unreality was soothing, now. victoria at sixteen probably wouldn’t have recognized who victoria was at twenty-one, but she figured she needed to make her peace with that. she had let herself turn into this person for a good reason. 

(a selfish reason, she reminded herself; she wanted an easy life for her siblings because she was selfish.) 

people were dying. victoria knew she was doing what she had to do to keep her siblings out of this fight, as much as she could; but it hurt victoria a little to see that people were dying and know why. she didn’t want to examine why it hurt. 

she joined a muggle boxing gym and spent hours there once her work at the shop was done. she let everyone at home think she was just spending a lot of time getting drinks with old hogwarts friends. really, victoria just needed to punch something until she felt like a person again. she split her knuckles over and over again, and used healing balms and bruise removal paste to hide the evidence. 

part of her wonders if this kind of existence isn’t entirely sustainable; but that kind of introspection is soft, too soft. victoria shoved it out of her head before she could worry herself over it. it’s not anger and it’s not pride and it’s not frustration, and she really didn’t have the time for anything more complicated than those three things. it didn’t matter if it was sustainable, because victoria would sustain it anyway. she had to. 

[robinrunsfiction]

Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge Day 7 - Gerard Way

Pairing: Gerard Way x Gender Neutral Reader Rating: General Requested By: None Word Count: ~1,100 Author’s Note: Fluffy fluff fluff to celebrate the return of MCR (not that this has anything to do with that but yea)

"I have a cappuccino for Steve," the barista called from the other end of the counter. From your place in line you watched how differently people acted. Some rushed in, grabbed a coffee and hurried out just as quickly, some were working diligently at their laptops at a table, while some chatted quietly with a friend.

The customer at the cash register was apparently ordering for their whole office and was taking forever so you let out a sigh. The guy in front of you turned and glanced at you and smiled. You recognized him, he was there most days when you came in for your daily caffeine fix.

"Some people," you said shaking your head.

"Right?" He replied.

This was about as much as your interactions ever amounted to, but then he turned back to you and opened his mouth to say something when the cashier called for the next customer in line. He went to the counter and placed his order, and you waited what seemed like longer than normal.

When he walked away from the counter with his coffee in hand, he gave you a shy smile that you returned before stepping to the counter.

"Here you go," the cashier said handing you a coffee. "Medium coffee, no cream or sugar, correct?"

"Yea," you replied, confused as you reached for your wallet.

"No need, the gentleman ahead of you in line bought it for you," the cashier explained. You glanced toward the door but he was long gone.

"Oh, wow, ok," you smiled as you took your coffee and headed to work with a smile on your face.

~

The next morning was snowy and cold, but you hardly noticed as you had one thing in mind as you got ready for the day. When you arrived at the cafe, you didn't see him. You hung back for a while, pretending to be reading the menu and letting others go ahead of you. Eventually you decided you had waited long enough and you got in line. After a few more people queued up behind you, you heard the door open and you glanced over. It was him. He smiled at you and you let the people behind you go ahead as you moved back in line.

"I didn't get a chance to say thank you yesterday," you said. "So thank you. I'm (YN)."

"Gerard," he smiled. "And you're welcome."

"You really knew my order? I'm impressed."

He smiled and glanced down at his boots that still had snow on the toes. "I've been meaning to-"

"Next!" The cashier barked, making you jump. 

You went up to the counter and placed your order. "And whatever he's having," you said turning to Gerard.

He smiled down at you before ordering his coffee.

"Thanks," he said as you moved toward the door.

"Not a problem," you smiled. You felt your phone vibrating in your pocket, but ignored it.

"Umm, (YN), I was wondering," he started nervously. 

You felt your phone going off again. "Sorry, one second," you said fishing out your phone. "Oh my god! Its my boss, I'm so late! I'm sorry, I'll see you soon!" You exclaimed before rushing out of the cafe.

~

You had gotten in big trouble with your boss for being late and couldn't risk not being on time again, at least through the end of the week. Even if you were still disappointed to be missing out on coffee time with Gerard, you at least had your friend Christine's birthday party at the end of the week to look forward to. She had insisted that everyone go ice skating and even though you had terrible balance, you agreed to go along.

When you arrived at the rink, you saw Christine's friends Brynn, Kate, Savannah, and Dominique were already there.

"Happy birthday!" You exclaimed as you threw your arms around Christine in a hug.

"Thank you!" She replied. She turned to a group of guys you hadn't noticed when you arrived. "You know my boyfriend Frank, right? These are his friends, Ray, Mikey and-"

"Gerard?!" You cut her off, stunned to find your coffee shop crush standing in front of you.

"(YN)?! Hey!"

"You know each other?" Christine asked, thoroughly confused.

"Yea, umm, coffee shop guy," (YN) whispered.

"Ohhh!" Christine responded with a wicked grin. "Ok, cool, well let's get our skates and get out there!"

When you got your skates your, you found Gerard and plopped down next to him.

"Hey again," you said.

"Hey! Were you in trouble at work? I haven't seen you around."

"Yea, sorry I ran out like that. I got in big trouble and can't risk being late again for a long time," you sighed.

"That sucks."

You nodded. "So do you actually like ice skating?"

"No, I'm terrible at it," he laughed.

"I bet I'm worse," you replied.

"You're on. Who ever stays up longest buys the fall-er coffee, not on a work day," Gerard suggested.

You narrowed your eyes, but couldn't help the smile on your face. "Deal, but no cheating, you have to fall naturally," you said extending your hand.

Gerard shook your hand. "Deal. Let's go!"

You put on your skates and carefully made your way to the entry to the ice, Gerard right behind you. "Ok I'm actually scared I'm gonna hurt myself," you laughed as you carefully stepped on the ice, clinging to the wall.

"You'll be ok," Gerard reassured you. "Here," he said holding out his hand.

"So we can fall together?" You said as you took his hand.

"Yea," he laughed.

Gerard did prove to be a slightly better skater than you, helping keep you on your feet as you slowly moved around the rink, laughing and talking. 

Gerard had made a particularly funny comment about the grouchy cashier at the coffee shop when your feet slipped out from under you. In an effort to keep yourself from falling, you turned toward Gerard, knocking him off balance as well.

The next thing you knew, you were on top of Gerard, who was flat on his back on the ice.

"Oh my god, I'm so so sorry! Are you ok?"

Gerard groaned as he opened his eyes. "Yea," he murmured. You pushed yourself off him so you were sitting on the ice, them helped Gerard sit up as well, but when he was up, he didn't let go of your hands. "(YN), before something happens again, would you like to go out with me?"

"Yea, that would be fantastic," you nodded as you scooted closer to him. You hesitated for a moment before leaning in and kissing him sweetly.

From the far end of the rink you hear Christine and Frank cheering.

When you pulled back Gerard was blushing. "But now we have another problem," he said.

"What?"

"How are we gonna get up off the ice?" He laughed.

[ifsomeoneasksiwasnothere]

Drunk Talk [One-Shot]

(Cover not available yet) 

_________________________________________

Read this on > | Wattpad | AO3 |  Spirit | Deviantart | 

Character Pairing: Offenderman/Bartender!Reader

Word Count: 4000

Rating: T

Warnings: Mention of murder, violence, and sexual abuse.

Synopsis: You are a stressed bartender from an old bar called "Midnight Rambler". A place where monsters were usual customers.     Unfortunately, a violent storm came just as you had to close the bar. Forced to stay inside and wait for it go away past midnight. One last customer comes by. One that you already knew for a long time.     Offenderman, the tall, charming, and alcoholic man, has entered the Midnight Rambler once again to drink his problems away.

A/N: Sorry for delaying this for so long ^^

If you think there are points to be improved, as long as you are respectful, criticism is welcome :D

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

    There is nothing better than spending a cold rainy night inside your home – soft sounds of raindrops colliding on the window, relaxing music playing in the background leading your thoughts far away, along with the warm embrace from thick layers of blankets causing your body to sweetly melt out of comfort –it was the perfect scenario for a stressed mind like mine. All that I needed, and wished for, was at least having a few minutes of rest. Unfortunately, this night I am not watching the rain from my home's window, but instead from the bar's, the Midnight Rambler.

My job mixing and serving drinks at the Midnight Rambler bar is entirely exhausting. The quantity of money I receive per hour for my effort is disappointedly unfair. I live on my own, in a humble apartment that besides its little space, makes me feel welcome in the short time I am not working. To pay my rent, I have to cover three of four shifts, which results in almost 15 hours a day during the whole week, except on Sundays. It is the only reason for me to like Sundays.

However, my exhaustion did not affect my professionalism. No matter the time nor the weather, I do the necessary to achieve utter perfection, hoping that one day it will be paid off.

Inevitably, working for such a long, tiring time, can sometimes make my mind wander far away from Midnight Rambler, unintentionally grazing on 'what if's —

"— And then he turned around and I appeared right in front of him! He got so shocked that he passed out instantly! Like, DUDE, you should have seen his face," Nora, one of my most frequent customers, busted out excitedly.

The positive point of working here was meeting its unusual clients. Nora, for example, as lively and cheering as she can be, she is, in fact, dead. Gone, for good. Living as a wandering ghost. But how? Every time I asked her, she would drastically change the topic, or tell an absurd story that could never have happened.

Yet she was right in front of me, talking, drinking, interacting, except she was not. It took me a while to get used to seeing her disappear behind the entrance door, and not reappearing on the outside of the windows as she walks away. Grasping the idea of serving alcohol to an undead can be challenging. For myself, I'm still adapting. Besides, Nora is often very talkative and outgoing, therefore I easily forget about her true self and get along with her well.

I lift my gaze from the glass I was cleaning to glance at her from across the counter, brushing my daydreaming away and blinking slightly.

A soft smile forms on my face as I return to focus on the dirty cup in my hands.

"Sounds like you had fun."

"You have no idea," she said snickering, "He was so jumpy! I mean, a simple 'Good morning' startled him. It was ridiculous — funny — but ridiculous."

Nora then raised her hands in the air defensively, looking away from me.

"But I must admit that I might have purposely made him get to this point."

I rolled my eyes at her, knowing it was typical of her to haunt random individuals for no reason. She saw it as entertainment.

"Really? I could never imagine you doing something like that." I said with a sarcastic tone in my voice.

"Aw c'mon, it was just for fun!" she whined, "Besides, he deserved it. I saw him harassing a girl the other day, along with his friends. He was forcefully lifting her skirt so he could take a picture of her underwear."

As I finished washing the last glass and put it aside, I snapped my gaze at her, gasping in disbelief.

"What a bastard! The hell why would he do that?!"

"YEAH, RIGHT?!" Nora snapped hysterically, her words echoing through the bar so intensely that its vibration almost broke one of the recently cleaned cups. Luckily, she did not attract attention from others. The clock on the wall showed nearly four in the morning, which meant that everyone had gone away, plus, it was time to close the bar.

Shaking my head disapprovingly, I confessed: "Alright I take that back, you should have done worst to him. But damn, you do need some alcohol assistance. Here. This one is from me."

She cracked a playful grin, later breaking into a burst of laughter, whilst she leaned forward hitting her fist on the table repeatedly. Her strong arms left punching marks over the entirety counter.

I could not help but giggle softly at the sight of her dramatic reaction. Her laugh was undeniably contagious.

"Good thing they're dead. Now he can be a dick in hell."

"What? What do you mean?" my smile fell and I glanced at her seriously, doubting her revengeful spirit nature, "Did... did you...?"

"Me?! No – no, no, no –" Nora blurted incredulously, then continued, "I picked on them about a week ago, but they were murdered the day after. Not sure by who, though — the news didn't know about the killer."

Shaking my head, I hummed, "I... I see."

As I looked around the bar, I found myself staring at the raindrops gracefully sliding on the window. The thunderstorm blasted loudly whilst rain came violently splashing on the rough concrete.

Don't think I'll be able to go home anytime soon.

I sighed tiredly, turning my vision to check the hour. It was already past three in the morning. Nora noticed worry in my expression and immediately directed her eyes to the wall clock as well, following my gaze.

"I should go... it's getting late," she said as she got up from her chair, "Besides, you must be tired of me by now. I know I talk too much."

I throw at her a sympathetic look, which she gently reassured with a wave of her hand whilst she got near the exit. Lightings flashed out the window aggressively and thunders blasted in my ears, making me worry for my friend.

"Nora, you're going to soak yourself, plus, it's thundering outside! Are you sure?"

"Aw, you're so adorable! Caring about me and stuff! But I'll be fine," she responded lazily, "Don't worry about me so much; it's not like a little rain it's going to kill me."

Before I could protest, Nora disappeared after the wooden doors muttering a friendly "See ye later!".

It was a fact that she would reappear someday later, therefore despite continually looking after her, as a friend would do, deep down I knew I would see her again. Besides, Nora is tougher than she looks. Nothing (and no one) could harm her that badly.

Sighing hopelessly and tiredly laying my body against the counter, I enjoy the few seconds of break with my head between my folded arms. The silence filled my ears like the music of an orchestra – every minute was precious and made my body gleam in delight. My frame slowly turned all its energy off, relaxing completely. I unintentionally closed my eyes and took a deep breath in relief.

'Don't forget to close the bar when you're done with the clients!'

My boss's voice echoed in my head, interrupting my sleepiness. As I got off the table and grabbed the keys, I head towards the exit with loosely footsteps. Through the door's glass, I could watch the intense storming outside that made me stop in my tracks and wonder — How was I supposed to go home with the weather like this? — My eyes examine the place, looking for answers. We did not have an extra umbrella that day, although it would be dangerous either way to walk home at this hour. The street seemed deserted and no cars passed by.

Then I took my final decision: not going home at all. Fortunately, we had blankets plus some comfortable pillows for these occasions, besides, couch seats are not that bad.

Just as I was to lock the exit, a familiar figure sitting on the sidewalk catches my attention. I immediately open the door wide enough not to get wet, taking a better view of them.

"Offenderman?"

He turns to me with a surprised expression which quickly changed to a pleased smile.

"Oh, hello darling. It's so good to see you," his voice was deep and low, almost inaudible due to the storm. Every time Offenderman opens his mouth, my entire body gets goosebumps. His words were so easily stuck in my mind; All due to his charms.

"Are you okay?" I ask worriedly.

"Better now," he grins wider, showing me his shark pointy teeth. I tediously rolled my eyes at him, while trying to avoid starring at his clear teeth.

"Just come in already! Unless you prefer to —"

"Alright, Alright!"

As Offenderman walked through the entrance and closed the door behind him, I rushed towards the cabinets under the counter.

He eyed me curiously, letting waterdrops fall on the floor's wood while he took his dark hat off. His accessory was the same color of his long black jacket — the ends of it hid his inhuman, and long, pale legs — dark, plus discreet.

Ah, Offenderman, what could I possibly say about him? Another one of my unusual clients who happened to find Midnight Rambler just when it was most needed. Alcohol is the same as water to him, no matter how many beverages I served, he was never satisfied. The night we met, I served him Whisky, — drink after drink, our conversation flowed— Offenderman's first impression to me was the stereotype of a womanizer. An impressive persuasive, charismatic, and confident man whose charming personality could win – or break – anyone's heart if desired. Usually, he would leave the bar at dawn, alongside woman he allured, who he'd never speak with again.

Towel in hands, I approach the tall figure and offer him the thick fabric politely.

"Here, take this," I said to him.

"Well, why thank you — how kind." He murmured.

I grew used to his compliments and kind words, aware these were all it meant to him: words; Nothing else. Meaningless words. I keep my walls up to prevent getting hurt, clearly due to his intentions. But, even with my negative thoughts of him, something always caught my attention.

"Do you have anything for you, though? It's freezing, you must be cold."

Unlike differently from his other lovers, Offenderman cared for me with true affection. He genuinely worries about my well being; it always caught me off guard. This was uncommon for the usual superficial flirty I knew.

"I'm... okay... don't worry about it," I responded airly, "and please dry yourself because I don't want to have to clean this floor again."

He carelessly pats the towel on his jacket a few times as I contour the counter. Thus, the tall man naturally relaxed on the chair opposite me. I stared at him, then asked:

"Since you're here, what do you want to drink today?"

Slightly surprised, Offenderman's shark teeth are exposed to me once again along with his characteristic smile.

"From you, sweetheart, any drink is a paradise. Serve me whatever."

Ignoring his comment, I prepare a strong and bitter beverage like the ones he mostly asks for. My tiredness has not gone away, therefore I had to concentrate not to spill the fluids as these were poured in the mixer — Little bit of this, little bit of that — after shaking the product, the drink was done right in front of the customer, who finished the first glass in one single sip.

"Perfect. As always, of course." He complimented, humming delightedly.

"Thanks," I answer, clueless of how to react to his constant flirting.

"So," he started, "How was your day?"

Faces can say just as much as words, they say. A frown was all it took for Offenderman to shake his head disapprovingly. His smile faded to a more sympathetic one.

"Ah, not so good, I see," he said as I poured more drink into his glass, "Mine wasn't that nice either."

"What happened?" I turned to him right after filling another round. The pale man sighs, tapping his long fingers on the table.

"Family meeting."

Oh.

"I'm getting a bigger glass."

I turn my back to him and head to the top cabinets. A few moments later I offer him a Seidel: the name of a German-style mug as large as a human head, plus thick walls to help maintain a cool temperature. The rest of the drink left in the mixer — still fairly amount of volume — was now in Offenderman's mug, however, the liquid hardly filled half of his glass. As I realized this, my hands automatically worked on a new beverage.

"Ah, yes, that will do," approved him softly, not wasting time to turn his drink as quickly as he could before telling me the details of his day.

"So," he started, "Have I ever mentioned about my family? Because if I did, I probably was too drunk to remember it, and that doesn't happen often."

"I don't think so," I said, trying my best to recall anything on the subject, "You never talked about them to me."

Offenderman shifted in his chair, before continuing:

"Basically, I have three brothers — Trender, Splendor, and Slender — It's just us," I nodded as he spoke, following his reasoning, "We aren't close and don't interact often — but Splendor insists on having meetings at least once per month; he tries very hard to unite us as if at some point we'd all magically understand each other."

"He sounds quite the dreamer," I commented.

"Indeed," he agreed, "And he's extremely optimistic, and cheering if you ask me, — like all the time — pure sunshine, example of the family."

"Is that how you think of him?" I wondered, raising my eyebrows, "Must like him then."

He glanced down at his empty glass, his jet black hat covering most of his face, "Eh. Kind of, yes. I still manage to get along with him mildly well despise our... different tastes."

"I see," my smile was inevitable due to the simple thought of Offenderman having such a positive brother, opposite of his personality. "If that's how you see him, I wonder how they see you as."

"The black sheep," he muttered.

"Really?" I questioned him.

"Yea," his weak, almost unhearable sigh, made my heart sink, "They think I'm a disappointment."

"Don't say that! Offendenderman, they're your family and I'm sure they love you." I comforted.

"That's not how it works, y'know," he scoffed, took a big sip of his drink, then smiled at me, "Aw, but aren't you adorable when you look out for me?"

Funny. I thought. Not the first time people say this to me.

My lack of energy prevented me from expressing my unamusedness — face blank as stone, immune to his charm, — my thoughts remained unreadable by him "Mhm. And how come you never commented about your brothers to me before? For how long do I know you? Five years or so?"

His nonexistent eyes avoided mine, "I don't talk about my family to anyone, opening up is not my specialty," he said.

"Yet you're doing quite well," I stated kindly, "Glad you told me. This kind of stuff can be hard to deal with on your own."

Offenderman stayed quiet for a moment as he gulped down half of his drink.

"I'm aware," he glanced at me with a sincere smile that I have never seen coming from him before, "You're not anyone to me, you know that, right? — I'm happy I can count on you."

I was utterly speechless to his reaction, had he truly exposed his true self? Had he, even for a second, abandoned his womanizer facade?

"Yeah. Sure. Good to know." I managed to mumble out. He shortly redirected the subject.

"Anyway, I'll spare you the details of the meeting. It's always the same. Awkward silences or passive-aggressive bickering, usually from Slender, while Splendor tries to settle it down by offering house-made food."

I agree with understanding, "Was the food good, though?" Offenderman snorted, making me smile in return, "Mildly, I'd say," he says, barely hiding his sarcasm, "He's still learning. Still learning."

"Hah, I see," more drink is put into his cup. He thanks me silently.

"By the way, why were you sitting on the sidewalk back there?" I asked.

"Oh, that. Well I — I was just... thinking..."

"Mhm, thinking...?"

"It's just — I don't know, guess I was just pissed."

"About seeing your brothers?"

"That too," he paused, "But it was also because of something that happened the other day. I was leaving a bar to smoke a cigarette on my own. Like I mostly do, as you know, I like to isolate myself and reflect upon things. It was all chill, until this man suddenly appeared on the sidewalk, talking with a girl at his side. The moment I took my eyes off them, I heard the girl screaming, begging him,"

"LET ME GO!" she pleaded as the man grasped her arm so tightly that left a mark.

"Take your clothes off," He ordered, pointing a pocket knife at her.

"NO — No... please," She panics with tears appearing in her eyes, but soon realizes that there's not much she can do to avoid the situation due to the male's strength. She was the victim, powerless. Afraid and vulnerable. "Please... do you... want money? I'll give you my money! Just leave me alone!"

"I can get your cash later, now do as I say " The man got closer, cornering her, thus showed his shiny blade that was held in his firm hands. He waisted no time to press the knife against the younger's throat.

"I'm only repeating myself once: Take. Those. Clothes. Off. Now," he repeated.

The girl watched the man in pure shock. Petrified, even. Terrified of what she knew would come next. Tears escaped her eyes as the older one approached further. Her eyelids opened so much that her eyeballs could have jumped off her face. She couldn't believe. She had never felt so much fear in her entire life; it only got worse when a silhouette of a tall man wearing dark clothing appeared behind the harasser.

The man noticed how the environment around him darkened, so as he twisted on his heel to look back —

"— I tore his head off his body using my bare teeth," Offenderman finished, "I haven't felt this much rage for a long time. It took me by surprise, really."

I did not dare share a word. How was I supposed to answer this? Was he the killer that Nora mentioned earlier?

"I hate when people see me as that guy! I HATE IT!" he snapped suddenly and breathed heavily with every single one of his sharp teeth shown. "I AM NOT SOME ASSHOLE WHO RAPES WOMEN WHO DOESN'T WANT TO GO TO BED WITH ME! THEY DON'T WANNA GO SLEEP WITH ME? FINE. HAVE FUN. IT'S AS SIMPLE AS THAT! NO? NO!" He takes a moment to breathe, "...It's unfair... y'know? I never did anything like that. You know me! You know I'm not like that fucker. But why can't people see that too?"

"They will see, with time," I assured him, "If people get to know you, like I did, they'll see you as who you truly are and who you wish to be." I comforted.

"I hope one day... that happens..."

"It will. I'm sure of it. There's always a chance."

"Thank you... Y/N," he said not louder than a whisper.

We both take a glimpse of the window beside us, staring at the knife rain that was strong as ever despite the time spent. By this moment I simply gave up on the idea of going home. It did not matter to me anymore. However, Offenderman was here with me, and perhaps we were not thinking the same. Kicking him out was not an option I was considering. What was I going to do?

His voice brought me back to earth, "Damn, it just won't go away, will it?" he lamented, "Guess it means that we will spend more time together. How nice."

"You're not stuck here, Offender. If you prefer to go home I won't stop you."

"Nah. This is fine. I have nowhere to go, to be honest. Besides, I like being here with you. Your company is... pleasant."

"But you can't stay here forever —"

"Neither can you," I fell silent, "Are you going to sleep here or something?"

For a second my words failed to leave my mouth. Embarrassment covered my face. He was joking, but it was a sad truth. My lack of response ironically answered his rhetorical question, and he was paralyzed.

"Wait. Is this serious? You're going to sleep here? In this place?"

"What do you mean by that? I cleaned every corner of this bar and you dare to refer it as 'this place'?"

"No, look — it's not like that — that's not what I meant, sorry. It's just that here is not the best place for you to rest. And I know you need it. I noticed how tired you are, and I know you put a lot of effort not to show it, but you won't convince me. You deserve to sleep in an actual bed. Somewhere minimally comfortable for you to lay on."

"The couch seat over there is cozy enough. It's not my first time doing this. I appreciate your worry, but I'm fine." I mumble.

"Alright, you may not believe me, because you're too stubborn, but I can tell you're not fine. So I'm not going to let you do that."

"Offenderman, there is no other option —"

"Of course there is!" he stood up from his chair confidently, "C'mon let's get you ready to sleep!"

"What," I stood still in place, "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to tuck you in, the best way I can. 'Do good things for people you like'. That's how Splendor usually does it. And it works — people like him a lot — so I'm doing the same for you."

"You're drunk, aren't you?"

"I'm always drunk, honey."

We stare at each other without sharing a word.

"Okay. Fine. Just tell me what you want me to do."

Holding as many pillows as he could find using his arms and tentacles, Offenderman arranged a fluffy nest on a long seat close to the window. Nevertheless, the remarkable effort he put on a simple task was not what surprised me. After he finished adding more comfy details, he popped himself on to his masterpiece on his back, then patted his chest.

"Lay here, sweetheart," he said.

I blinked at him doubtfully.

"C'mon," he continued, "I'm not gonna do anything, promise."

Too tired to protest. Not enough patience. Never enough. I just did as he asked.

He was stupidly tall when compared to me. It was scary how he could easily tower over me, but was never intimidating. Never to me. I lay on his warm torso that felt as gentle as the sun's touch on my skin, and his arms surrounded me like long, protective snakes.

"There. Comfortable?" he asked as he admired me sleepily shift on him.

"Meh," I answered lazily, "It's ok," he smiled thankfully.

"Perfect," Offenderman lowered his voice, then turned off the lights barely moving from his original place, with the help of one of his tentacles to reach the switch, "Good night, Y/N," his deep voice echoed.

"'Night," I mumbled.

My vision darkened, and all my stress disappeared. Finally, I had what I needed. Just before my mind shut up, I could swear thin fingers played with my hair locks. Nevertheless, I paid no mind. Too tired to protest. Not enough patience to deny. Never enough of him.

============================= Hellow dear reader! Thank you for reading this far ♥️ （*'▽｀*） I put a lot of effort to do this one, but I hope it paid off.

[illbeyourreasonwhy]

So Much I Think It Must Be...

Chapter 8: Not Straight

“Wait, I don’t understand,” Bowie said, “are you two friends, now, or –”

“Nope.”

“Definitely not.”

Andi’s parents exchanged a look, clearly deciding not to ask.

*

Chapter 8 of my Ambi Enemies to Friends to Lovers fic! You can read it on ao3 here, and find the first chapter here. Hope you like it!

*

Bowie was wearing a confused look on his face when Andi walked into the kitchen the next morning, and Andi quickly realised why. Amber was sipping on a mug, her eyes stuck on the table and looking very out of place.

“Hi?” she said, grabbing a mug of her own.

“Morning,” Bowie answered, nudging her shoulder. “You know I caught this one trying to sneak out this morning?”

“What?” Andi looked over at Amber, feeling inexplicably hurt. “You were just going to leave?”

Amber avoided her gaze. “I didn’t want to intrude,” she mumbled.

“Well, you’re not,” Andi snapped.

“Fine, sorry I bothered,” Amber quipped back.

She met her eyes, and Andi felt herself relax. This was what they did, snapping at each other instead of caring. It was familiar, and in their own way, good. And if the minute smile Amber gave her was anything to go by, she felt the same way.

Bowie looked curiously between the two of them, then cleared his throat. “I actually meant that I didn’t understand why I hadn’t been made aware that Amber was here in the first place.”

“Oh, yeah, that.” Andi grabbed a piece of toast. “She spent the night. It was kind of a last-minute decision.”

Bowie opened his mouth, still looking confused, and was interrupted by Bex stumbling into the kitchen. She went directly to the coffee pot, poured herself a cup, and took a sip, before turning to the rest of the room, looking amazed.

“Who made this coffee?”

“I did,” Amber answered, looking bemused.

Bex set the cup down. “You’re welcome here any time.”

“Mom!”

“You’re the one who let her into our home in the first place,” Bex defended, smiling as Bowie hugged her from behind. “And this is delicious.”

Amber smirked over at Andi, who glared back at her – with less heat than usual, she noticed. Somehow, she was less annoyed than expected about someone in her corner taking a liking to Amber.

“Wait, I don’t understand,” Bowie said, “are you two friends, now, or –”

“Nope.”

“Definitely not.”

Andi’s parents exchanged a look, clearly deciding not to ask.

 *

“I’m just saying, if you ever want to talk…”

“I’ll think about it,” Amber answered evenly. “Thank you, though. Really.” She smoothed out her apron, then looked back up at Andi. “Now get out of here, you’re keeping me from my customers and their tips.”

“Pfft, like you’re a good enough waitress to get tips.”

Amber opened her mouth, caught sight of something behind Andi, and stiffened. “Someone is here to see you.”

Andi turned around, her face breaking into a smile. “Walker!”

“Hey,” he grinned. “Cyrus told me you were getting into an argument with a waitress, and it wasn’t hard to figure out which one.”

Andi glanced back at Cyrus, who was still waiting for her in their booth. He waved a sarcastic hand over at her, and she smiled guiltily. They had been talking as usual when she saw Amber and was reminded of the events of the previous night; she’d gotten up to tell Amber that if she ever wanted to talk about her home problems, she would listen, and now that she thought of it she had left Cyrus alone for a good five minutes.

“Although, that didn’t seem like an argument,” Walker went on. “It looks like your relationship is more complicated than it seems.”

Andi gave him a wry look. “Tell me about it.”

Andi didn’t really know where she and Amber stood. Two weeks ago they hated each other; now, everything was much more complicated. There were moments where Andi despised her still, where every word out of her mouth made her want to snap back at her. But other times, like right now, her heart went out to Amber, where she wanted nothing more than to help her, let her know she was there for her. And other times still, there was a sort of pull she felt towards her. In those moments, fleeting as they may be, she just wanted them to get along. No drama, no fights. Leave all of that behind.

She felt like a yoyo, being pulled up and down over and over without ever staying in one state of mind for long. It was exhausting.

“Anyways,” she said, shaking herself, “do you want to join us?”

“Nah, I gotta run,” Walker smiled, shaking his head as she slid back into her booth, ignoring Cyrus’ raised eyebrow. “I just wanted to ask if you’d be open to working together again, say, on a bigger project.”

Andi felt a thrill of excitement run through her. “What kind of project?”

“Big.”

“Hm. Very mysterious,” Andi smiled. “But sure, that sound great.”

“Cool. I might have something coming up. I’ll keep you updated.”

And with that, he left the Spoon. Andi smiled, and gave Cyrus a confused look when she saw his raised eyebrows.

“What?”

“What’s going on between you and Walker?”

She shrugged. “You heard him. We’re working on a project together.”

“Is that all that is?”

“Yes. I’m not going down that road again.” She gave him a look. “Stop it. Do I psychoanalyse every interaction you have with guys?”

“With TJ you do.”

“Well, that’s because you’re in love with TJ.”

“Not sure what the context here is, but I agree,” Amber said, setting down a milkshake and baby taters in front of Cyrus. “And TJ is in love with you.”

“Thank you,” Andi said, and Amber smiled at her.

Cyrus leaned back against his seat, looking dejected. “When you’re not arguing, you’re ganging up on me. I can never win.”

Amber laughed and started to leave.

“Uh, Amber?” Andi called. “I also ordered a milkshake.”

“Did you? I must have forgotten.”

Andi groaned. “Amber, come on.”

Amber smiled sweetly and went to another table.

“I have no idea whether she is going to bring you one or not.”

“Me neither,” Andi said. The yoyo had swung again; one minute playful, the other back to antagonising each other. She threw her head back in frustration.

 *

“I am bored. Bored. I need you to fill me in on all the juicy gossip.”

Andi laughed, adjusting the phone against her ear. “Buffy, everyone is gone. TJ and Cyrus left with Cyrus’ family this morning. There is no gossip to tell.”

“Well, fill me in on everything that happened, then. You have to give me some type of distraction while my parents are out fishing.”

“I don’t know. We went to a party. That was fun.”

“You hate parties. Well, when you’re not the one throwing them.”

“I don’t hate them, I… Jonah was dancing, okay? That made up for it. And I saw Natalie again. Did you know she was dating Iris?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Well, I found out then.” Andi fumbled with her keys and unlocked the door to Cece’s. No one was home. “And then –”

She faltered, leaning against the couch. She had been about to tell Buffy about meeting Amber on the balcony, but suddenly she found that she couldn’t. The memory about that conversation seemed private, somehow, as if she was meant to be the only one to know about the way Amber had looked at her that night, as if she was seeing her clearly in a way very few ever had.

“And then?” Buffy repeated.

Andi shook her head. “I just realised, I do have news for you. I’m not sure you’ll believe it, though.”

“Now I’m interested.”

“Amber and I are kind of getting along now. Sort of.”

“You’re making that up.”

Andi thought about telling her about the sleepover, about their first honest conversation, about eating breakfast together in the morning, and bit her lip.

“Andi?” Buffy’s voice rang, confused about her silence. “Is everything okay?”

She hummed, her mind going back to that balcony, her own words ringing in her head. How did you know you liked girls?

She thought of noticing girls, of refusing to acknowledge what it meant, of Amber telling her about those same things helping her realise she was a lesbian, of conversations with both TJ and Cyrus, and took a deep breath.

“I think…” She paused, steeling herself. Buffy stayed quiet, and Andi tried to imagine her, waiting for her to say her piece at her own pace. “I might… I could be…” Her hand was shaking, and she forced herself to set it against the couch, the other holding her phone in place. “I might be… not straight.”

There was a silence, only of a few seconds, but to Andi it felt like years. Her heart was hammering in her chest, blood rushing in her ears, and she closed her eyes. It was the first time she had ever said it out loud.

“Really?” Buffy said. “Alright. Well, you don’t need me to tell you that I still love you either way.” Andi let out a shaky breath. She knew Buffy could probably hear it over the phone, but she didn’t comment on it, just kept talking in that same calm and supportive voice. “Do you like someone, or…?”

“No,” Andi answered. Her heart was still beating fast, but she was smiling now, feeling elated. “No, it was just a bunch of little things. I’m not 100% sure yet, though, so could you keep it to yourself for now?”

“Yeah, of course,” Buffy answered. “You got it.”

Andi smiled and leaned back against the couch. “I miss you,” she admitted.

“I miss you too. I can’t wait to get back.”

Andi grinned into the phone. “So, did anything interesting happen in Middle-of-Nowhere-Town?”

Buffy groaned, and Andi let her rant yet again about how boring her vacation was, feeling lighter than she had in weeks.

 *

 Unknown number: There’s a sale on crafts in the shop across the Spoon

 Unknown number: In case you’re interested

Andi looked down at her phone, confused for half a second before she scrolled back up the conversation and realised that the texts were from Amber. She had never saved her number.

She smiled faintly, oddly touched that Amber had thought of her.

 Me: i’ll check it out. thanks

 Unknown number: No problem

Andi considered saving Amber’s number, but eventually decided against it.

It wasn’t like they were friends, after all.

[misssunflowersandsangria]

Bean There, Done That

Hello tumblr-verse!  Please keep in mind that this is a Modern AU.  Okay, happy reading :D 

Karui was ready to explode walking into her familiar coffee shop. It had been a long, frustrating day and she was ready to fight anyone who got in her way. Thankfully the afternoon rush had died and there were only a few students scattered within the lobby. There were still open tables and available outlets. It was her favorite place to work and study.  She was studying at this university as an exchange student and the coffee shop became her safe haven in this town. The roof was painted with clouds and walls covered in leaves. 

All she wanted was to write her paper in peace while enjoying her favorite sugary beverage. It was familiar, warm and quiet except for the loud boisterous laugh that disturbed her peace. She looked behind the counter watching as an unfamiliar barista laughed loudly. Damnit, he was one of those. He turned towards her and regarded her with a bright smile.  While she normally hated overly positive happy people on him it looked natural. She’d hurt anyone that took that smile from him.  He made his way towards her still smiling so brightly. Once facing her she peered at him curiously. He seemed so familiar wild brown hair, smile wide and welcoming and yet she’d remember him if they had indeed met before. 

“Welcome! What can I get you?”  If she was paying attention she would have seen how his hands were shaking. 

“Large, soy vanilla latte in a mug.” She rattled off the familiar order.  The flavors of the drink reminded her of her home. Instead of typing it in he just kept staring. “What?” She asked nervously at how intensely he stared at her. 

“Sorry, have we met before?”

She was surprised that he seemed to feel the same way that she did, but she didn’t want to admit it.  “No, I don’t think so.”

He blushed and shrugged.  “Sorry, you just seem really familiar.” 

“Oh.”

“Okay I’ll get your drink started and I’ll bring it right over.” Before she could get over the strange interaction and pay he was off making her beverage. 

Karui settled into her favorite chair in the corner of the shop trying to avoid looking at the man behind the espresso machine. He was far more obvious than her and she smiled at the blush that bloomed across his face every time she caught him looking at her. 

“Here you go!” He presented her with her drink and she was surprised to see an intricate butterfly design made with the foam and espresso. 

“Thank you. I’ve never had coffee with latte art.”

“I’ll make you a million of these if they’ll make you happy.”  He said it so earnestly and sweetly that she didn’t have a response. Thankfully he just grinned and walked off. 

She tried to focus on writing her paper but ever so often he’d come by and wipe the tables around her or sweep up invisible crumbs.  

By the 12th time that he’d wiped the same spot, she had it.  “Oh my goodness just sit down.” Chouji just grinned as if he was waiting for the invitation. 

“Sorry, it’s super slow tonight and I’m bored. I’m Chouji.”  He introduced himself shaking her hand. 

“I’m Karui.” 

“How was your drink?”

“It was okay.” She replied noncommittally not wanting to admit it was delicious and wanting to keep that guard up.

His face fell at the response. “I’m sorry. I’ll make you another one if you’d like.” 

He moved to get up but she placed a hand on his arm. “Sorry, it was really good. Thank you.” His smile returned bright as ever and he launched into questions about her and what she was studying, her paper long forgotten. He was interesting and a good listener. Ever so often he’d have to leave to help a customer but he’d return right back. Once he clocked out of his shift he returned with a refill of her drink and a hot chocolate for himself.  On the top of her cup, this time were lightning bolts. 

They sat there talking and laughing with one another as people filtered in and out and Karui never felt so relaxed and comfortable with someone she’d just met. He was entirely too kind and genuine. Once the shop had closed and everyone had returned home outside they lingered under the streetlights. 

“It was really nice meeting you Karui.” 

“Thank you Chouji you as well.”

“I’ll see you soon?”  He asked hopefully.

“Yes.  Good night.” Surprising her he leaned over to softly kiss her cheek. 

“Good night sweet girl.” 

 Karui laid in bed staring up at the ceiling. Chouji was so sweet and something felt so familiar about him. She had a great memory and would have remembered if she met him before. 

Her hand clutched onto the butterfly pendant hanging from her neck. She’d purchased it from a random shop a few weeks ago. She had been walking around and saw it in the display window, something called to her and she needed it. It had become something of a comfort having it.  Like when she had it she felt safe, loved. 

That night she had dreams of lightning storms and butterflies. 

The next day she couldn’t focus during class excited to see him. This wasn’t who she was, she didn’t get flustered over a guy but Chouji was special. While she couldn’t explain she knew that he had meant something to her long before. 

Rather than greeting her behind the counter he was there at the door and picked her up in an all-consuming hug as though he’d been waiting for her. She giggled and settled into his arms resting her head against his chest sinking into the warm familiar feeling. 

“You’re back.” He sighed, settling his head against her. 

She just smiled nodding her head. “Why aren’t you in your uniform?” 

He just chuckled rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I’m actually off today. I had class this morning but I remember that you’d mentioned coming back here around this time so I have our corner all set up.” 

She looked over and saw that he had indeed gotten it ready. There were two large mugs and his own laptop.

“Thanks, Chouji. This is really sweet.” 

He smiled proudly glad that she’d taken it well and didn’t think that it was too forward. Shikamaru had told him to go for it after he’d come back to their apartment with hearts in his eyes. Telling his best friend all about this amazing girl that he’d met. He was normally so shy and awkward around girls, lacking confidence.  Karui though, she seemed to bring something out of him. He would have never attempted this if she didn’t make him feel safe and that he could trust her.

Karui and Chouji settled in and split the pastry that he’d purchased to go along with their drinks. 

Today’s latte art featured fluffy clouds. 

“What do you have to work on?”  She asked opening up her notebooks.  He’d told her a little bit about what he was studying the night before.  

“Well, nothing really. I got most of it done before so that I’d be able to be here with you. I just brought some stuff along so that I’m not distracting.  You’d let me know if I’m bothering you right?” He asked nervously. 

“Chouji trust me. Do I look like the type to mince words and be nice?  I like talking to you.” She assured him squeezing his hand. 

He relaxed and began to ask her about her classes and day.  Something was still bothering her and so she needed to talk to him about how she was feeling.  

She stared at him again, like trying to put together a puzzle.  “I don’t know what it is but I feel like I know you. Like we’ve sat together drinking coffee and talking just like this.” He nodded with a smile. She’d never act the way she did or share what she had if they weren’t kindred spirits. 

“I think so too, there’s just something about you.”  He replied casually pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.  “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met before and yet, it’s like the way I feel with you is so familiar.”  He smiled at her before kissing her forehead softly.

“It’s crazy huh?”

She smiled to herself and nodded.  “Absolutely.”

 They fell into their comfortable companionship and she was actually able to tackle a good portion of her work. At some point, she moved to sit next to him cuddling against his side as she read her textbook.  He had taken her hand in his placing a soft kiss on her palm then holding it in his own. 

“Can I tell you something?”  He requested after she’d finished up her work for the day. 

“Of course.”

“I actually got this job because I kept seeing you. I would pass by and see you sitting here. So many times I wanted to approach you but I got scared. Finally, I had to find some way to meet you so I just applied.” He admitted.  

He was embarrassed at the lengths he’d gone to meet her but sitting here with her made it worth it.

“Chouji!  You’re too sweet.  I’m glad you did though.  You’ve made me a lot happier in two days than I’ve felt in a while.  Something about you feels like home.” He reached forward and lightly touched the butterfly pendant against her neck.

“Seeing this when we first met.  It reminded me of home. We used to have butterflies that would fly all over our yard. I had a tough time growing up grappling with a lot of self-esteem issues. My father told me that one day I’d be stronger and I’d have my own wings.” 

“Till that day happens, I’ll help you fly.”  With that, they met in a sweet kiss. It was like two hearts meeting after a long time apart.  She felt her heart beating quickly. This felt so wonderfully familiar.

“Maybe we met before, somewhere in the clouds or the leaves.   And maybe we were meant to meet again here.” He mused placing another affectionate kiss on her head.  

It was such a sweet sentiment and she couldn’t help but believe in such a fairy tale.  “I can see it, I was probably the exotic foreigner and you couldn’t help but fall head over heels for me.”  She teased him.  

“I’m sure that’s exactly how it happened.”  He laughed pulling her into his arms. 

“Either way whether we were ninjas in another life or college students now, I think that our fates have always been entwined.  I’m glad that we found each other again.”

“I think that we always will.”

Flashback

“Thank you, Sweetheart.”  Chouji thanked his wife after she placed his coffee in front of him.  It was a tradition of theirs. ChouChou was sleeping the morning away and so they sat together outside enjoying the morning sun over coffee.  They would watch the butterflies float in the air and enjoy their quiet moments together. 

Karui settled herself in his lap curling herself into him feeling safe and sound.  Her husband was unlike anyone she’d ever met before and she’d always be thankful for the peace that allowed their relationship to form. 

“You ever think about how unlikely our relationship is?”  Karui was surprised by the question but nodded understanding where he was coming from. 

She played with the butterfly pendant hanging from her neck.  He’d given it to her after giving birth to ChouChou.  It always helped her feel calm and safe like his wings were always enclosed around her.  “Sometimes, it’s not common to marry someone outside of your own village. Years ago we wouldn’t have been possible so the fact that we’ve come this far is a miracle in itself.”

He smiled at her before kissing her cheek.  “I think that it was fate for us to find one another.  In this lifetime and all the ones to come. I’ll always find you.”

The promise made her heart stop, and she kissed him soundly.  She couldn’t help but love the idea that she’d never have to be without him.  

She smiled brightly at him her honey eyes rivaling the gold of the sunlight.  She had traded clouds for leaves and yet being with him made her feel like she was floating amongst them.  “I’ll never fly so far that you can’t catch me.” 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21475984

[poguesofthebau]

OMG would you be able to do a superhero au with Grayson where the reader is like the villain and they just have flirty banter every time they meet until he finally decides to ask her out💛

this took me soooo long to write because i’ve never done anything like it before, but it was so fun to work on! i changed a few things from the actual request, but i hope it’s at least kind of close to what you were looking for! :)

summary: when grayson dolan, LA’s favorite hero, can’t stop running into y/n, a criminal that flies under the city’s radar, he finds himself first obsessing over her and her life choices, and then falling for her. but how does a vigilante end up with a criminal?

the first time you met was at the california fires.

he had seen you quickly moving around through the front windows, and, thinking you were a homeowner trapped inside by the flames, had darted inside as quickly as possible to get you out. when he finally found you in the house, though, he realized that he had been mistaken about you.

you were no homeowner– oh, no. you were quite the opposite.

when grayson reached you, what you were doing was unbelievable to him. “hey, are– are you fucking stealing from this house?”

caught off guard, your naturally smug face distorted into confusion, your head whipping to the side and squinting through the smoke with a heavy cough to see who the hell had been crazy enough to follow you, california’s least famous crook, into a literal burning building. you’d been leaning over a locket, staring at the photo that was pressed into it. a young girl and a middle-aged couple. it had seemed too sentimental for you to take, even though its other possible destiny was to burn to ashes. regardless of what you’d decided, your thoughts were cut short when another voice rose from the smoke, startling you out of your contemplation.

immediately you recognized him. it was grayson.

while the general public didn’t know who the man really was, every petty criminal in the city made a point to know his true identity. they knew it for two reasons: 1) so they knew to keep away from him, and, 2) for blackmail if they ever needed it. because someone like grayson dolan would never let people like you get away with the things you did– vigilante or not. so people like you did what it took to remain under his radar, but made sure to have a backup plan just in case he somehow tuned in to what you were doing.

for these reasons, you immediately dashed to make an exit when you recognized him. the window above the kitchen sink was still open from when you’d come in five minutes ago to grab anything lightweight and expensive you could find. without a sound, you dropped the locket and sprinted across the room, jumping onto the counter and diving out the window effortlessly, with grayson trying–and failing– to follow you, the prettiest thief he’d ever caught in the act.

the next meeting was almost a month later.

a friend of yours had invited you along on a little robbery. the plan was to hit a small cafe just as it closed, take anything in the register or the wallets of whatever customers and employees were still lingering, and get out. you had passed on the offer, preferring to hit vacant targets and work alone, but you had offered your help if anything went wrong.

conveniently for you, the one night you’d planned on keeping off the streets and letting citizens of LA worry about normal problems that didn’t include being robbed by you, ended up being the night things went sideways for your friend. around 9:45 that night, you received a text with no context or explanation (just how all criminals communicated): 911.

so, like any good friend would, you went.

when you arrived at the cafe, the scene was already messy.

there were three cops cars parked outside the building, and the first person you spotted who wasn’t in police uniform was him.

of course. why would grayson dolan, hero of the year, not be on a scene like this one?

for a moment, you lingered in your spot, just out of the sight of the heroes. you contemplated just leaving. what was one less friend? he could get himself out of the situation if he was as legit as he claimed to be. hell, he wouldn’t have been in the situation if he was as good as he claimed to be. you paced around in heavy thought for a few moments, and just as you decided to hatch a plan to get your friend out of his own mess, your train of thought was rammed off its tracks.

“hey!” and then there were footsteps, rapidly approaching you. your first instinct was to pull the knife from your thigh holster, but by the time it was in your hand, grayson had already reached you. before your body could react, it was pushed against the wall, and your arms were pinned on either side of your head. the knife clattered to the floor as grayson’s knee nudged between your thighs to keep you from moving. your eyes were wide when they finally met his, and the look on his face told you he hadn’t forgotten your last encounter. “it’s you again?” your brow furrowed in response, wrists struggling in his hands to free themselves. “what are you doing here? are you a part of this?”

instead of responding, you took advantage of his position in the only way you could. while he was speaking, grayson had lessened the pressure he was putting on your body by giving you an inch more space between your bodies. without hesitation, you brought your left knee up between his legs with as much force as you could muster. turns out it was a lot of force.

grayson’s hands immediately released you, and you were suddenly able to slid out from between his body and the wall, quickly leaning over to grab your knife before dashing in the opposite direction of the police, who had taken no notice to the interaction going on between the two of you. you didn’t make it very far before he was running after you again, this time taking a bit longer to catch up. he eventually did, though, barely grabbing onto your wrist again and yanking on it just hard enough to halt your momentum and twist you around. as you spun, your other hand– the one holding the knife– flew toward him, only to be stopped a few inches away by grayson’s forearm colliding with your own.

after a few moments of sparring, you ended up with grayson on his back below you as you straddled him, knife pressed lightly against his throat. he was looking up at you as though you were someone he knew, like he had so much faith in your benevolence. “quit looking at me like that. and quit trying to stop me from doing my damn job, before you get yourself killed.”

“you wouldn’t kill me,” he insisted, locking eyes with you. “i don’t buy it.”

“be careful what you assume about a girl who has a knife to your throat, mr. hero.”

the glint in his eye suddenly shifted from familiarity to interest. “who are you? why haven’t i heard of you?”

smiling almost sweetly at his naivety, you leaned into him, your mouth nearly pressed against his ear when you finally spoke. “because i’m very good at what i do.” and then you were gone.

from then on, grayson was everywhere you went. it was almost scary how much you saw him. you’d catch him while you were out on a job, whether he was there to stop you or just happened to walk in on one of your crimes, and he would spot you as you passed by a scene he was on, trying to save a new innocent. often times he would strike up a conversation, as though you were old friends. a part of you was convinced it was all coincidence, but a larger part was worried that you were going to be his next big criminal take-down. so after a handful of run-ins, you finally decided to address the situation.

you’d been listening to the police scanner all day, trying to find something that was close enough to your location that you could catch grayson there and hopefully put an end to the game of tag you two had been playing for the past few months. after hours of running around the city only to just barely miss him, you finally caught up.

funny enough, the scene you found him working on was a fire. when you arrived on a nearby rooftop, catching sight of what was going on down below, you couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. after meeting him for the first time at a fire and spending all that time feeling like he was chasing you around los angeles, it had all come full circle.

deciding it would be smartest to wait for things to settle down for grayson, you sat down on the edge of the rooftop, boot-clad feet dangling from the ledge. for almost two hours, you sat and watched him save life after life, until everyone had been pulled from the burning building. it was odd, the feeling you got every time he ducked back into the building. each disappearance had you wondering– worrying– if he would come back out again. you couldn’t remember the last person you’d worried about like that, and you couldn’t believe that grayson dolan was the one putting you in that state of mind.

the entire time you sat waiting for him, you thought you’d gone unnoticed by the hero. when the job was done, though, the first thing he did was look up to your spot on that building and grin at you. stunned, you laughed in surprise.

a few minutes later, grayson was sitting on the ledge next to you, feet grazing your own as he swung his legs back and forth in the air. “thanks for not adding to the trouble down there,” he teased, knocking his shoulder into yours. “maybe you’re not such a villain after all.”

“hmph. is that what you’re looking to hear from me after all these little meetings? that i’m a good guy deep down, and i’m secretly dying to be your sidekick or something?”

“you said it, not me.” you scoffed at this, shoving him.

“i told you once i would kill you, and i still mean it.”

after a few moments of laughing, you both went quiet. “have you ever thought about that? like, in a serious way.” you raised your eyebrows, not following the question. “i mean, have you ever wanted to be good?” you scoffed again. “seriously, y/n. don’t take it the wrong way, but you are one of the bad guys. a really skilled one, i have to admit. it took me two months to figure out your name, for god’s sake. but really, don’t you ever wonder if you should be doing something to help people?”

you looked at him for a while, just taking him in. he looked worried, thinking he’d upset you with the question. when you looked out at the sky and leaned back on your palms, though, he seemed to realize that he was right. “i never considered anything like that until i met you.”

grayson smiled then, proudly. he had been waiting months for you to finally admit that what you were doing with your life wasn’t who you were– that you were ready to do more. “so do it with me.”

you turned back to look at him again. your face let grayson know that he wasn’t convincing you of anything. “it’s not that simple, grayson. you’re the hero, and i’m the villain. maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be.”

“or maybe it’s not. c’mere.” he was standing then, reaching a hand out to help you up once he’d finally gotten on his feet. when you took his hand and let him pull you up, he smiled again. he started digging around in his pocket then. after a while, he finally found what he was looking for, pulling it out and taking one knee before you. when your eyes widened in amusement, he laughed and shook his head. “it’s not what you think, crazy.” finally, you caught sight of what he was offering to you. the locket, from that first day in the fires. “y/n the villain, will you do me the honor of becoming y/n the hero and help me protect this city?”

rolling your eyes but failing to fight the smile that had crept onto your face, you took the necklace from him and nodded before pulling him back to his feet. “yeah, i will, you corny good guy. how the hell did you find this?”

“i knew it would be important when i first saw you with it that first day. i had no way to prove it, but i could just tell that this locket was one of the things that made you question what you were doing. and i knew that a day like today would come, so i took it for this moment. you know, just in case.”

you groaned. “how did i go from bad ass, unstoppable criminal to sidekick of the guy that finds the meaning of lockets from house fires in a matter of minutes?”

grabbing your hand with a laugh, he pulled you toward the door that led to the building. “that’s the power of goodness. i don’t make the rules, i just follow them! don’t act like you don’t love the protagonist.”

“sadly, i think we both know i do.”

[necrokittytales]

Necrokitty Tales: Trouble in Inkwell Isle (Chapter 13)

Authors’ note: Remember, Necrida’s writing will be in italics and SPKC’s writing with be regular font.If you have no idea what this roleplaying thing is, you can start from the beginning here.

——

Cagney led Isabella away from the Root Pack. “Psy has a habit of talking anyone’s ears off. Makes you wish you were deaf instead of blind.”

Isabella chuckled “No kidding! I mean, he seems nice and all… but… wow!” She remained close to Cagney.

The carnation eyed the stand coming up. “Looks like we’re coming up on Porkrind’s stand. He’s an…interesting character. If you need it he’s probably got it. Wanna stop by?” “A guy who can get whatever I need? Yeah! I would like to meet him.” She smiled.    “Great, he’s just up ahead.” The two walked until they reached the stand. Cagney approached to see Porkrind…and a shotgun on the counter. The carnation blinked. That, uh, wasn’t normal. He cleared his throat. “Hey, Porkrind, how’s things going?” “Going alright.” “Cool…cool. Can’t help but notice you have a gun “ “Always had a gun.” “True, but not on the counter.” “Got robbed a couple days ago by some cat ferret thing,” Porkrind gruffly explained, pointing to a crude drawing of a stick figure with ears. Cagney felt himself tense up. “Really? Any chance you recognized them?” “If I had recognized them, then they would already be dealt with it.” “Fair enough.” Cagney gestured toward Isabella. “Uh, this is Isabella, she recently moved here actually. Showing her around is all.” Porkrind grunted. “Pleasure to meet ya, miss. If you’re looking for something, I can probably get it for you. Within reason, of course.” Isabella listened carefully and noted to herself not to get on the bad side of this guy. “Nice meeting you, Mr… Porkrind? Was it? Em.. this cat ferret thing… did you noticed if it had wings, by any chance?” She was wondering if something in the store got Mina’s attention and her annoying feline curiosity might have made her steal it.

Porkrind gave her a cursory glance before shaking his head and saying, “No, I didn’t see any wings on it, ma'am. It ain’t a friend of yours, is it?”

“If it doesn’t have wings I have no idea who you’re talking about, darling.” She recovered her confidence. “But I’ll keep my ears alert.” She cutely wiggled her long ears. At that moment, a salamander enter the shop. “Good morning Mr.Porkr-oh!” He blushed a little when he saw Isabella. “Hello again, sweetheart!” He looked at Cagney getting a bit nervous “And hello Mr.Car- I mean, Cagney!” He remember he didn’t liked being called Mr.Carnation. “Seems you got a busy day today, Mr.Porkrind.” He got closer to the counter and notices the gun. “Uh, guess better safe than sorry?” He pointed at it. Porkrind nodded at Sulivan. “Yeah, I won’t miss next time.” Cagney glanced at the gun. “Doesn’t only have one eye mess with your depth perception or something?” Porkrind grunted. “Doesn’t mean I can’t shoot. Bet your girlfriend here holds herself just fine for being blind.” Isabella chuckled sweetly. “Well, if the target is noisy, I might have my chances.” “Say, did you had the chance to talk to Ribby and Croaks yet?” Sulivan asked Isabella while making some signs with his hands indicating to Porkrind that she was the lady he talked about the other day. “Not yet but it’s on my to-do-list! And thank you for helping me the other day; that was really sweet” She used her extra charming tone, making Sulivan turn red. “Oh gosh… it was nuthin’.” He played with his beret. then remembered the carnation was standing right there “Em.. are you two…?” He asked pointing at them, implying if they were dating. Porkrind chuckled quietly but kept to himself, not really wanting to get too involved in his customers’ lives unless it could lead to some return business. Which left Cagney quickly shaking his head, realizing what the salamander was implying. “What? No, no, no,” he ascertained, “Just showing her around is all. Trying to make sure no one is going to give her any trouble,” he added, flashing the salamander a not so nice grin. Sulivan gulped taking the message of the giant flower. “H-how nice of ya! Hehe.. well I won’t take anymore of your time. Nice seeing ya again!” He quickly walked out of the shop without buying what he needed. “What a strange fellow,” Isabella pointed out to the remaining people.

–

Unbeknownst to Sulivan, two eyes watched the salamander’s interactions with the flower and bat woman. They followed him as he finally walked away from Porkrind’s shop, empty handed. Amber’s eyes narrowed and she quietly hissed.

Sweetheart? So THAT was his game. Pretending to be this homely little salamander down on his luck while in actuality, he was a sneak! He didn’t even buy anything, just confirming her suspicion that he only visited these places to hit on beautiful women. For some reason, this made her furious and her fur stood on end. Nevermind that Amber flirted all the time. That didn’t count. She quietly plotted as she crept away, definitely planning on bringing a weapon tomorrow.

–

Isabella got close to Cagney and gently placed a hand on his arm. “Shall we continue the tour?”

Cagney heated up at the contact and swallowed. “Yeah, yeah, uh next fellow is a bit…different,” he chose his words carefully as they walked toward the direction of Goopy Le Grande’s home.

The carnation thought about the salamander’s words. “When are you looking for work exactly, if you don’t mind me asking?” “Whenever I find a babysitter for Mina.” The bat said with a sigh. “Night time is the best time to meet the owners of clubs, but I don’t want to leave my little înger alone. I was hoping this tour will help me meet someone that might have what it takes to watch over her while I go hunting for a job.” “A babysitter, huh? Why don’t you get that crazy rabbit lady to watch your kid? Her kid is your daughter’s friend I think. Or at least, wasn’t dumb enough to run away when she trespassed. That probably counts as a friend.” Cagney looked ahead and groaned. “Speaking of friends, the moron coming towards us right now insists we are friends. We are not friends. I repeat, we are not-” “Hello, my friend!” Goopy Le Grande hopped toward them, all a beam with smiles. “I was just thinking of you the other day, old spot! Especially after that storm we had. What did you and Hilda get into a spat about this time?” The slime noticed Isabella and beamed. “Why, Cagney, who’s this lovely companion here?”

Isabella thought about Cagney’s suggestion and chuckled when Goopy got close to meet them. She did listened carefully what he said about a fight with someone called Hilda. A girlfriend perhaps?

“I’m Isabella Bechstein” she spread her arm to handshake the new voice. “I just moved in” she said sweetly.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Bechstein. I am Goopy Le Grande, world renowned and loved by all creatures fair and small.” He tipped his “cap” to the woman. “Lovely name. Romanian, isn’t it? Beautiful country. Am încercat o dată un tip acolo,” he added with a wink.

Isabella chuckled wondering if he really knew what he was saying “You’re quite charming, Monsieur Le Grande. Parlez vous français?”

Goopy laughed boisterously. “Bien sûr. Mon nom est le grand après tout!”

Cagney stared at the two of them in confusion. “I have….no idea what either of you are saying.”

“Oh! Sorry, darling” She apologized to Cagney. “We should stick to English, Monsieur Le Grand. I wouldn’t want to upset my dear guide.” She used her enticing voice and softly caressed the giant flower´s arm. She was actually really grateful that he accepted to take her for a tour after the rough start they had.

Cagney thought bats were supposed to be hairy and leathery but Isabella’s paws were rather soft and it was difficult to suppress the shiver her touch sent through his stem. He caught Goopy giving him a bemused expression and scowled at the goop.

“Right, thanks. I just wanted to show her around. Maybe find her some people who are kid friendly.” “I am one the friendliest goops this side of the isle!” Goopy announced, “I’m a great role model to the little ones!” He leaned in, sneakily. “But if you really want someone who deals with kids, you should really take her to see Hilda. She is pretty good with kids. Have you heard about her?” Cagney bared his teeth at him. “Goopy,” he warned, trying to keep his tone even. “Well, you sound like a great babysitter, but not sure you could handle my little Mina… she’s quite a handful,” she said, proud of her daughter’s ability to get in crazy situations, like fighting a giant flower. “And I have heard of Hilda, but I haven’t got the chance to meet her yet.”

Goopy ignored the death glare Cagney was giving him. “Oh she’s fantastic! She runs space projects for the school kids and can hold her own pretty well against even the most barbed opponent,” Goopy continued, noticing the thorns starting to pop out of Cagney’s stem.

“She sounds really great!” The bat turned her head towards the carnation, not noticing his change of mood. “Will we see her in our tour?”

Cagney froze at the question. “No.” He smiled evilly at Goopy. “But I’m sure Mister Le Grande here would love to take you since he’s running his mouth so much about her.” Goopy winked back at the carnation. “Now, now, I know you’re much more familiar with Ms Hilda Berg than I am, ya old rascal. I’m sure she would love to show you both the exhibits and the dome and-” “The dome is broken,” Cagney snapped. Goopy’s brow furrowed. “The dome is broken? What do you mean it’s broken…?” He looked at the carnation’s pained expression and his eyes widened. “Oh.” Cagney sighed. It was gonna come out eventually. Goopy cleared his throat. “Mademoiselle Bechstein, may I have private word with Cagney for just a minute or two?”

Isabella’s gossip sensors skyrocketed but she managed to stay cool and not show her interest in other’s lives. “Sure! I’ll just go…” She wiggled her ears making a soft chirping noise to get some idea of her surroundings …“over there” she finally said, walking away from them. She stopped far enough to give them privacy, but not out of her exceptional ear range. She sat on the grass and enjoyed the sun, humming a happy tune, pretending not to pay attention to them.

Cagney watched her go and was immediately suspicious. He racked his brain for a way to convey the information and then groaned when he realized he had only one option. “Iway inkthay eshay ancay earhay usway. Eshay eardhay erhay aughterday ethay otherway ightnay idinghay.”

Goopy looked confused before grinning. “Really? We haven’t used that since we were kids.” Cagney gave him a look and Goopy repeated, “Iway aven'thay usedway isthay incesay eway ereway idskay.” “Iway okebray Ilda'shay omeday.” “YOU WHAT?” Cagney cringed at Goopy’s outburst.  “Atwhay appenedhay? Owhay areway ouyay illstay aliveway?” Goopy asked, realizing the carnation looked relatively intact. “Iway asway overway andway erethay asway away urgularbay andway Iway iedtray otay ithay emthay onlyway otay eakbray ethay omeday insteadway. Andway Iway amway aliveway ecausebay…Iway oday otnay owknay. Utbay Ildahay andway Iway aidsay ingsthay otay  eachway otherway atthay Iway oday otnay inkthay eshay illway everway antway otay eesay emay againway. Ornay Iway erhay.” Cagney stuck his tongue out at the words. “This is hard,” he admitted. Goopy nodded. “What are you going to do now?” “I don’t know. I’m supposed to…uh…Iway amway upposedsay otay eesay omorrowtay orfay away ateday….Iway inkthay”

“Ugh… clever hippie…” Isabella grumbled. She still managed to figure out some words but she couldn’t make up much of what they were talking about.

Goopy smiled. “You should go.” “What? Why?!” “It’s for the best! You’ll be happy in no time. C'mon, don’t you trust me?’ “Not at all.” “That’s the spirit!” Goopy looked toward Isabella. “We’re all done now! Cagney has graciously allowed me to escort you to Hilda’s later today as he has some planning to do.” Her ears perked up at the voice of Goopy calling for her. “Oh! That is great!” She stood up, cleaned some of the dirt off her clothes and got closer to them. “We will have the chance to get to know each other,” she said sweetly, secretly hoping he would blabber more about the neighbors than the carnation.

Cagney pulled at a petal. “Actually now that I think about it, she is the last one on this isle you haven’t met. If you want to go with Goopy at this point, I’ll just head back to my field and talk to you later?”

“Aww, you going to leave me?” She said with her enticing voice “Oh well…I guess you must be tired with all this walking.” She leaned towards Cagney.  "Thank you very much for introducing me to everybody. Besides my expectations,“ She chuckled remembering all the horrible things she said to him the day before, "I really enjoyed your company.”  She said sincerely, stretching out a hand so they could shake.

Cagney chuckled. “And you ain’t too bad yourself, when you’re not going all momma bear on people,” he admitted, shaking her hand. lsabella smiled back and turned to Goopy, “Shall we go then, Monsieur Le Grande?” Goopy Le Grande offered an elbow to Isabella. “Of course, Mademoiselle Bechstein.” He waved to Cagney. “I’m sure Isabella and I have will have plenty to talk about!” “Goopy, I will put you in your grave,” Cagney warned. Goopy giggled. “I’ll just come back. I always do.”

She felt Goopy’s elbow and held on to it. She waved goodbye to Cagney and discreetly took a last breath of the delicate fragrance of the carnation before walking away.

Goopy led the bat away from the carnation, loudly asking her, “Soooo, what brings you to the isles?”

“What brings me to the isles?” she repeated, “I wanted to find a place for my Mina to grow up happy.” And to hide, but she decided to keep that detail to herself. “The cities are too noisy and crowded… What about you?” “Me? Well I grew up here, did some traveling but back here to run the family business- gravestones. With my boxing on the side, of course.” He continued to speak loudly, glancing at the ground. She raised an eyebrow when Goopy mentioned the family business. “Well, you’re very cheerful to be working in that line of business,” she chuckled. “And you do boxing too?” She caressed his arm to try to feel the muscles. She didn’t feel much but she pretended to be impressed.

If Isabella could see, she would have spotted the ripples Goopy gave up when he laughed. “Have to be cheerful in my line of work. And don’t be shy about feeling these arms of mine. I’m quite the specimen of a goop if I do say so myself. Now what do you do for a living?”

“Interesting…” she said with a sensual tone. “Me, I’m a singer, currently looking for a job. You don’t happen to know any bands, do you?" 

"A singer, eh? Hmm, I got a little owner at a speakeasy who owes me a favor or two! I think there’s a jazz band or so coming in tomorrow evening. If you’ve got time, we could head over there and see if they need a singer? Before we see Miss Berg, if you like?” “Seriously?” She said excited, “I would very much like that! Oh! Mulţumesc!” She gave the goop a loud kiss on his cheek and held on tightly to his arm.

Goopy accepted the kiss graciously. “Yes, yes of course. We’ll head over there now…And now that we’ve gotten some distance away from our mutual friend,” Goopy gestured behind them even though she was blind, “Is there anything you would like to know? I haven’t had a good gossip buddy in ages!”

—

Sulivan walked halfway home when he remembered he didn’t bought what he went there for. When he was closer to the shop he made sure Cagney wasn’t there anymore and entered. “Uf… who would thought a flower could be that scary….”

Porkrind spotted Sulivan returning. “Ya remember what you went to buy, Sulivan?” “Yes yes, eh… you see I’ve met this gal last night… and we really hit it off! We spent the night together… but not like that!” The salamander corrected seeing a smirk starting to show on Porkrind’s face and turned even more red “ we just talked, that’s all! But… we going to a date and… I wanted to get her something nice….” Porkrind smirked at the salamander. “You’re either a very lucky man or a very unlucky man indeed, Sulivan. A woman like that either really likes you or wants something that you have. And hate to say it but 9 times out 10, it’s the latter.” Porkrind began to display some of his merchandise. “What’s the little lady like? And was she there in the morning?” Sulivan looked at his friend worried. “Oh… what could she want from me? And yes! She stayed, she even fished breakfast” He took a look at the merchandise “Well, she has a beautiful and bright, chestnut fur, her eyes as big as the moon!” He leaned on the counter sighing. “Her delicate silhouette would make swans jealous! And she’s interested in what I do, and she knows how to fish!” Chestnut fur? Porkrind grit his tusks. That sounded very similar to the thief from a few days ago. “She ain’t a cat or a ferret, is she?”

The salamander looked at Porkrind in surprise. “Why, yes she is! How do you…?”

Porkrind put a hand on the salamander’s shoulder with a heavy sigh. “Kid, it pains me to tell you this, but I’m 90% sure your dame is a thief. A cat burglar to be precise.”

“What?!” Sulivan stepped back to shake off Porkrind´s hand. “Y-You haven’t even met her yet! She’s sweet, and charming! She would never steal!” He put on his beret, angry. “You know, I changed my mind! I´ll go get her some flowers or somettin´. Good day!” He stormed out of the store.

Porkrind shook his head. “Poor, lovesick bastard, he has no idea.” He pulled out his shotgun and began to clean it. “Shouldn’t have missed the first time. He’ll figure it out soon enough.”

Sulivan walked without a direction for a while, angry at the shopkeeper and mumbling to himself. “How can he say that! A delicate angel like her… ”

–

Amber repeatedly stabbed at a picture of Sulivan she sketched with her claws before ripping it up into tiny shreds with a tiny growl. 

“Right, stealing. Gotta go steal something,” she reminded herself, walking away…before running back and violently stomping on the pieces of paper.

—

“My dear Amber wouldn’t do such thing!” Sulivan stopped and sat on a rock nearby. He put his elbows on his knees and rested his head on both hands.

He tried to forget about Porkrind and  wondered what kind of present he could get for Amber. Maybe he could ask somebody for suggestions… Psy? Goopy? Maybe even Elder Kettle? After a few minutes he decided to visit Psycarrot first and walked to the Root Pack field.

–

Cagney unburrowed himself once he was in his field and stretched. Well, that was more walking than he had intended to do for a while. He had left Isabella in the somewhat more capable hands of Goopy (which he begrudgingly admitted, was probably one of the more trustworthy residents). Still, he had shown her around enough and if she was lucky, word got around that she knew him and that would be enough to keep too many islanders from messing with her. At least on this isle.

He looked toward his tree and stopped in his tracks. Sitting near his spot was a giant pot. With a bow on it. He was immediately on guard. “This was not here when I left.” He approached it warily and when he was sure nothing was going to pop out did he inspect it. It kinda looked like the pot Hilda had tried to give him. A bit fancier that’s for sure, but it was similar. The fact that there was a bow on it clued him in to the fact that it could be a present? Or a trap. He peeked inside. Nope. No hiding Hilda or trained assassin. He circled it once more until he saw a piece of paper stuck to the pot. He plucked it and opened it. “Eager to continue what we started two nights ago. See you tomorrow. Don’t keep me waiting?” He read outloud. He stared at it, looked around, and then read it again. This was Hilda’s writing alright. His mind immediately went into overdrive. “Continue what we started…” he repeated and he felt his hands shake. Before Hilda had left, they had been lying down on the bed and they were going to…to…He turned bright red before realizing something else.   “Wait, no, we tried to kill each other!” He remembered. Cagney really racked his brain now. Did Hilda really want to fight him in the jazz bar they had planned on going to? That seemed a bit excessive, but then again, he had nearly crushed her. Maybe she would turn into the moon and crush him in kind. And this don’t keep her waiting business? Was this so she could set up a trap and make sure he would be there on time to fall for it? “I probably should show up before her just in case she…” He nearly slapped himself in the forehead. “Hold up, I just said I never wanted to see her again and here I am planning on getting there first to meet up with her for a potential bar brawl?! Am I insane?” He rested his head against the pot and scrunched his eyes shut. “Ughhh, I HAVE to go,” he realized. If he didn’t, and there was even a slight chance of reconciliation, he really would lose her forever.

–

Psycarrot let out a low whistle after the carnation and the bat left. “Did you see how impressed she was with my story? It’s the natural charm for sure!” The carrot looked to see if Moe and Weepy were listening.

He found a very angry potato staring at him. “We said we would never talk about it!” Moe said, referring to the embarrassing story he revealed to a newcomer and crossed his arms.

Weepy smiled at the carrot. It was a fun and courageous story he thought.

“Hey there, gang!” Sulivan called, getting closer to the fence. Moe turned to see the salamander getting closer. “Hey! Hi, Sulivan. Your order is not ready yet, we got some trouble with the storm.” “Oh! No, don’t worry, I’m here for something else.” He reached the fence. “ I need help…” He turned a bit red. Psycarrot knew that red face goofy look anywhere. “Sayyyyy, this wouldn’t be about a girl now would it?” Sulivan hid behind his beret giggling “Well… yes it is! A real angel!” He described her again for the vegetables, playing nervously with his beret between his hands. “And now I want to find the perfect gift. Something to show her how much she means to me… without being creepy,” he added knowing that sometimes the produce got carried away in their ideas. Like that time when Psycarrot dressed Moe Tato as a woman to seduce someone for who knows what. Psycarrot rubbed his hands together. “Well! A lady such as this does indeed sound special! How long have you been together? I can think of a couple of real nice things if this is a year anniversary!”

The salamander chuckled “Oh! I just met her last night…at the Joint. We really hit it off! She spent the night at my place… but we only talked! It was very nice….”

Psycarrot began to elbow his companions. “She SPENT the night?! Oh Sulivan, you dog you! Ha! I think you already have the cat in the bag!”

“Attaboy! Didn’t think you had it in ya!” Moe patted Sulivan’s back.

“Oh! No! Guys! C'mon! Nuthin’ happened… we… we just had a good time talking about ourselves…although…” He blushed. “I-I think she might be the one. She’s so… soo… so unique! Not like any other woman I’ve ever met… I really want her to like me. What can I do?” “Aww!” Weepy squealed happy “That is so sweet! I’ve never seen you so happy, Sullivan.” His eyes started to tear up. “I’m… I’m so glad for you!”

Psycarrot scratched his chin. “Well, you could impress her with your great intellect and romantic witty banter…or is that just me?”

They all frowned at the carrot.

“Listen, Sull. Ladies like it when you spend money on them,” Moe made a gesture with his fingers rubbing together, "But they will hate you if you buy something they don’t like. What you should do is take her shopping! That way you’ll pay for what she really wants to have! No risks of making her mad.” He concluded leaning on the fence. “What? I thought they liked romantic stuff… like romantic dinners at fancy clubs,” Weepy said, scratching his head. Sulivan looked at both of them, not sure which advice was the best. “I don’t know…” He looked at Psycarrot, hoping he will come up with something better. Psycarrot rubbed his hands together. “You say you’re taking her to carnival, right? How good are you at the games? Ladies love it when guys can win them stuff.”

Moe snapped his fingers “Oh! Yeah! Show her your skills! Shoot the ducks, test your strength, and win her stuff she wants!” “A night in the carnival does sound romantic! With all the lights… the merry-go-round…” the onion said, holding his hands together. “Hm… I am good at throwing darts.” Sulivan said, scratching his forehead .

“Darts?! Ha!” Psycarrot shook his head. “No, women like a man who demonstrates great feats of strength and intelligence - a Renaissance man, if you will! It’s evolution! Women are always attracted more to men who can take the lead! So go for the hammer prizes!”

“The hammer prizes?” The salamander repeated, “but… I’m not very strong…”.

“Psy is right!” Moe crossed his arms. “You gotta show off a little! Any idiot with an eye can throw a dart! You just have to train a bit.” Weepy looked at them, raising an eyebrow. The salamander was very slim, he might have been a great sailor once, but now he was all bones.

Psycarrot slammed the salamander on the back. "And that is why we’re going to help beef you up! I’ve got some beet juice here that’ll put some muscle on those scales! You could even start by pushing that wheelbarrow of gardening supplies for us to start flexing those muscles!” He added slyly.

“W-w-what?” Sulivan started to say when Moe interrupted him by grabbing the back of his shirt and putting him down on the other side of the fence.

“Go on now! You don’t have much time ‘till tomorrow!”. “Oh dear… ” Weepy lamented, leaving them to carry their crazy plan and took care of their plants. —

Meanwhile, over the sea ,a serious looking spider gentleman, dressed elegantly in dark green suit, was looking to the distant isles of Inkwell aboard a big ship carrying cargo for Mr King Dice.

A crab sailor approached him. “We’ll be arriving tonight, sir.” The gentleman didn’t bother to look at the crab. “Thank you Mr. Porto. I’ll inform my men.” The sailor nodded but he didn’t leave. The spider looked at him with his six eyes, well, five. There was one closed, but judging by the tiny marks around it, it seemed it has been scratched out. “Anything else?” He said very calmly but there was still something disturbing in his tone. The sailor hesitated. “W-when we reach port, I’m going to have to declare the cargo I carry, and there will be an inspection….” “And I will take care of it. No one opens the cargo but me.” “Y-yes, sir.” Mr. Porto left the gentleman knowing he was being watched by those preying eyes. When the sailor was out of view, the spider looked at one of the big cargo boxes and allowed a small smile creep into his face. “Questo sarà l'inizio di una bella e proficua amicizia.”

——–

CHAPTER 01,  CHAPTER 02,  CHAPTER 03,  CHAPTER 04,  CHAPTER 05, CHAPTER 06,  CHAPTER 07,  CHAPTER 08,  CHAPTER 09,  CHAPTER 10; CHAPTER 11; CHAPTER 12 ; CHAPTER 13 (You’re here!)