#so feel free to forward him any job listings you see that might fit!

[probablygayattorneys]

People think ‘Layton CV’ is ‘Layton Curious Village’ but actually it’s his curriculum vitae. He needs to find a new job after not making tenure at Gressenheller since he went missing for a decade.

[kokonoiis]

artist's admiration── ❝ maybe falling in love with kokonoi hajime was easier than you thought it'd be ❞

Ⅰ. tokyo revengers ft. idol ! k. hajime x stylist ! gender neutral reader Ⅱ. drabble / 1.5k wc Ⅲ. tw. slight abuse of power if you squint but also not really at all. Ⅳ. a/n. alright we're so here to kick off the bonten idol au that i've been cooking, of course i have drabbles planned for all of the members and some more characters than just the bonten idols so,,, let me cook let me cook. most won't be nsfw for now but the nsfw is coming i'm sure

" haji- what are you doing ? " kokonoi knew what that tone of your voice meant better than anyone else. he knew he had a few second in total to stop everything that he was doing, but with the eyeliner wand in his hand, he was already committed and had no intention of stopping already. it was just a little graphic eyeliner, it couldn't be that hard, right ? he swore he remembered doing it all the time whenever he was in junior high, so he couldn't be so bad at it. at least, no one came up to tell him that his eyeliner sucked, so that's all he needed for confirmation that he wasn't terrible at eyeliner.

but before he really got to test his hypothesis, you were already behind him, your arms crossed as you hovered over kokonoi while he squinted at the mirror, trying to really see what he was doing. " you don't have your contacts in, do you ? "

" no, they give me a headache whenever i'm performing. the fans say i always look mad whenever i'm performing so i don't want to wear my contacts anymore, " it sounded reasonable to him, but you just let out an exasperated sigh, reaching over him to grab the eyeliner pencil from his hand.

" if you can't see what you're doing, how do you expect to be able to actually draw a good wing ? " you asked, trying not to show your annoyance at his flippant nature, knowing that if you got into an argument with him over something like this, it could last hours or more, and you really only had about forty minutes to completely do his makeup now that kokonoi was fitted into his stage outfit. but, of course, you couldn't just let it go without being a little annoying about it. " besides, i've seen what you looked like in junior high.. i don't think you're, uh, practiced enough to my standards. whatever is on your face in forty minutes reflects my skills, so i need to make sure it's perfect or its my head on a spike. understood ? "

" not really. " kokonoi looked up at you through his mirror, shaking his head as you settled down into a stool next to him. you swiveled his chair around so he was facing you, and redipped the eyeliner wand, leaning forward to do your job.

" maybe i'll teach you how to do your own eyeliner when you're not going to be headed off onto stage, yeah ? " you mused out loud under your breath, that focused look in your eyes as your free hand took his chin and tilted his head so he was looking straight ahead, resting your hand there just in case you needed to move his head again. " then we'll have much more time to thoroughly teach you and it won't reflect poorly on me, you know what i mean ? of course i want you to do your own makeup if you like it, but damn, i can get fired over this. "

there were unspoken words that refused to fall from your lips, of course. you were a makeup artist first, and everything else came second. that included any feelings that you might have towards anyone you might be working relatively closely with. and kokonoi hajime was on that list of people you couldn't really afford to fall in love with.

you spent at least an hour or more nearly every single day with your makeup kit looking at his face all day every day, and with that closeness came natural conversations. you learned the two of you had a lot of things in common, like how you both really enjoyed sweet things and really didn't have a taste for anything spicy, or how you both enjoyed messing around with fortune telling from time to time. just small things about both of you that you've learnt over the span of your time as a makeup artist for bonten.

but no, you couldn't fall in love with kokonoi, it was literally your job on the line. the only reason you landed it in the first place was because you were in a relationship at the time, and it was an unspoken rule that a makeup artist had to almost prove that they wouldn't fall for their idols. lord knows what would happen if someone caught wind of your feelings for him, or if the wrong people snitched. those emotions weren't necessary for your job, so you cut them out.

while trying to push him away, though, he almost seemed to lean harder into talking with you, as if he'd never met anyone who he couldn't sway with his words one way or another. but you were stubborn in your ways, and you made sure that he was always aware of how hard headed you could be. and that stubbornness really was what kept you from really connecting with the romantic feelings that had sprouted for kokonoi.

" you're staring. "

you blinked a couple of times, your eyes widening slightly before you narrowed them again, dragging the eyeliner across his lid. " well, yeah, i'm trying to fix what you did. " the lie was effortless, but not perfect, especially since he really only made one simple line and it really wasn't going to be hard to fix at all.

" uh huh, " kokonoi found himself laughing softly, a knowing smile on his face. " if i didn't know any better, i'd say you're falling for me. "

" me ? falling for you ? no, never, " you denied it pretty adamantly, turning his head so you didn't have to fight with filling in the pretty thick wing that you gave him. the rest of his makeup was simple, so you wanted the wing to be the standout point this time. he had monolids, so the bat technique was your favorite to use on him, and it worked pretty well as long as he could sit for the extra time while you filled it in with the fine tip of the wand.

you kinda liked how he never fought back with you as you moved his head from time to time, your hand sat on his chin comfortably. it gave you some sense of power and made you feel a certain way whenever he looked up at you and the two of you made eye contact with each other. but.. that didn't mean you were falling for him. " i'm your makeup artist, koko. "

" and you're pretty, " kokonoi had whispered immediately, as if he didn't even think before he spoke. " i think you're pretty. and i spend quite a long time looking at your face while you're doing my makeup. you always have this one crease in the middle of your brows-- "

" alright, alright, koko, i got your point ! stupid.. "

" what ? i just complimented you and you're going to call me stupid ? rude. "

you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, trying to shake your head an alleviate the blush on your cheeks that you were so sure he was able to see. " you never asked me to compliment you back. that's like giving a gift because you expect one back, kinda rude, right ? " pulling away from him, you admired your work, tilting his head a few ways to make sure it looked good from all angles. of course, it was kokonoi hajime, he was going to look perfect with any makeup you put him in.

" you are a weird one, you know that ? "

" nope. i've never heard that one before a day in my life, koko. "

" oh, then let me be the first to tell you, " kokonoi grinned a little bit, leaning forward to press a small kiss onto your lips, throwing you off guard completely, but not necessarily in a bad way. you found yourself kissing him back within seconds, enjoying the feeling of his lips on yours. he tasted like the flavored lip balm he always applied before you did his lips, and you could smell the cologne he was wearing. were people looking ? you didn't know, and for the moment, you didn't care, either.

when he pulled away, he stood up, brushing off his stage outfit with a nonchalant hum, as if your world wasn't spinning because of him. " i think you're a weird one. but i'll see you after this performance, okay ? you'll have time to teach me how to draw my own eyeliner, right ? "

you weren't entirely sure how well he would do in your class, but you figured that the extra practice couldn't hurt. " uhm. yeah. i'll see you then, i guess. " you mumbled underneath your breath, feeling both deflated and ecstatic about spending more time with kokonoi where you weren't staring into his face trying to make sure that his foundation was even and making sure his eyeshadow was perfect on both sides. " and, for the record, koko. i think you're the weird one. "

" well, make sure to watch this weirdo perform his best ! " you would make sure to watch from the sidelines and silently cheer him on. maybe falling for kokonoi hajime was a lot easier than you thought it would be, and maybe you were okay with that. as long as he didn't ruin the makeup that you'd worked so hard on.

──kokonoiis 2024

[addermoray]

Tim Drake: Civilian Life

As many of you know, Tim Drake is my favorite comic book character and has been for decades. And being the long time fan that I am, I hate to see my boy's wheels spinning. But I also hate to see writers try to advance him to places he really shouldn't be going.

Some of you may have read previous posts I've made about the character and know that I agree with the thoroughly ingrained concept that, in the future, Tim will become Batman, despite not wanting to be, out of obligation and doing the job will make him miserable.

Why would I want to inflict this kind of suffering on my favorite character? Because it's the only route that has ever made sense for him. Tim's entire character, his entire reason for becoming Robin in the first place, has been stepping up because someone had to, despite never wanting to be that someone.

His other defining character trait is his loyalty to the people close to him. Not just the Batfamily, but the original Young Justice as well. When Tower of Babel happened, the team got nervous about Tim doing the same to them and he swore he could never treat his friends that way. Years later

Your first instinct might be to say he went back on his word. But you'll notice that his list includes not one single member of his Young Justice team.

Why do I bring this up in a post about what I would do with Tim Drake if given free reign at DC? We'll get there.

The answer to the question, by the way, is that I would do one last story arc tying up loose ends as Robin and then I would have him move on...

To civilian life.

Tim was never meant to stay a super hero. It is a tragedy, in universe, that he's done it as long as he has. And the day he comes back to be Batman because someone has to will always be some distance in the future. So one final story line. One last long string of triumphs before he hangs up his cape (except, ya know, for big giant crossover stories where it's all hands on deck) and is sidelined into the background of the DCU.

Sidelined, but not removed.

Because while I'd take him out of active hero duty, there are a bunch of dangling threads that would make for a beautiful bow to keep him in the loop while off of the front lines.

Tim Drake's mother was killed. And then his father was killed. But he has a Step-Mother that survived, vanishing from the story. As did the failing, but not failed, Drake Industries.

Let's bring those back. The final chapter of Tim Drake's final story as an active super hero would be reconnecting with Dana-Winters Drake. After her mental crisis, following her husband's death, she was able to recover. Tim had been helping, but keeping his distance. His being a hero has gotten enough of his parents killed. The company he inherited? He gave to her once she was fit to take it, expecting her to sell it.

Instead, she brought it back from the brink, never taking it public.

Tim, finally putting his super heroics behind him, can at last feel safe reuniting with her.

Flash forward and Tim's got a role in what was his father's company. Not in charge of it, why would he ever want to take that from his stepmom? But he runs his own division and has full autonomy. Over the years there have been many companies purporting to provide aid to super heroes. The problem is that they were all inevitably revealed to be evil ploys, run by villains, or taken over by greedy fat cats.

But what if there was one that was guaranteed to be trustworthy?

From equipment, to safe houses, to access to medical and psychiatric professionals, Drake Industries has you covered. And, of course, the first people we see Tim, in a suit and tie instead of a cape and mask, extending these services to are his old team.

And with this being the new status quo, Tim is still around to be used in stories and is freed up to take a background role that can have him appear in any number of books, not just bat and Young Justice books. Like Nightwing and Oracle before him, he becomes a major player in the DCU overall. But he's also finally living the life he wanted to, balancing his sense of obligation with at last being free from the rooftops.

[reidyoulikeabook]

A is for Ankle Socks

Summary: The first installment in my A-Z of Spencer Reid series. Spencer Reid is very particular about his socks.

Ship: fem ! BAU reader x Spencer Reid

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Discussions of case-typical violence, blood, brief description of a fight, minor injury to reader that requires some stitches.

A/N: hello! this is my first ever series and i’m very nervous about it! it’s going to be a chronological a-z series with Spencer, detailing the progression of your relationship!

Spencer Reid permanently wears odd socks. The only time you can recall him wearing matching ones, in the year you’ve known him, was on days he had to go to court. Then, it was required that he wear the technically mandated uniform of proper leather shoes, and monochrome socks. On those days, Hotch would turn up with a pair of black socks tucked into his briefcase, just in case. Spencer had needed them, twice.

However, today is not a court day. Today is day 8 of a case in back of beyond Oregon that, quite frustratingly, seems to be going absolutely nowhere.

It says quite a lot, really, that in a day spent combing over convicts with domestic violence charges, the sight you look up to see is more viscerally disturbing. Spencer’s perched on the end of a desk, as he so often seems to be, his ankles crossed over each other. Signature black converse on his feet. And he appears...not to be wearing socks?

He notices you looking at him, and flicks his eyes downward self-consciously, “Is something wrong?”

“Are you wearing socks?”

He lets out a quiet laugh, “Uh. No. I meant to go to the laundrette last night but then Hotch called us into that meeting. I wasn’t expecting to be out here this long.”

“Is it comfortable?” You ask, “Wearing those without socks?”

He kicks his feet around just slightly, “Not really. I guess I’d forgotten about it until you mentioned.”

“Sorry,” You say, with an apologetic smile.

“Not your fault,” He says, looking back at the paperwork in his lap, “Hey would you mind coming to take a look at this actually? I think I might have something.”

***

By day 2, you’d learnt that the only sandwich shop in town had a reputation for bad food hygiene that none of you felt like risking. Normally, everyone would roll their eyes at Spencer for his investigation into such things. However, in this case, everyone else seemed to be as thankful as you always were.

It’s your turn to do the lunch run today, so you head to the grocery store that isn’t too far out of town. Putting your car in park, you mentally run through the list that the team had given you: cheap pasta for everyone but Rossi, who was willing to risk running foul of their microwave meal selection, as many coffee supplies as you could manage, some sour gummy worms for Spencer, mineral water for Hotch, and tights for you. It was frankly quite impractical to wear the things. You ran through so many brambles, fell down so many times, that you almost felt you should get pantyhose hazard pay. In fall in Oregon though? You’d splash out the $6 for the sake of preventing frostbite. If only because Hotch would be furious.

You smile at the thought. Wandering through the aisles, you collect everything you need. Spencer only asked for a pack of sour gummy worms, but, with a smile on your face, you decide to get him the strawberry laces he likes too.

It’s only when you scan the cart, last minute, that you realise what you’ve forgotten.

Tights. Shit.

Wheeling the cart around, you weave through the aisles looking for them. The underwear aisle is aisle 20, and it looks like it’s been ransacked. Flicking through the disorganised display, you see them.

A five pack of socks, adorned with farm animals and backgrounds of a completely clashing colour. It’s almost too bright for you, but you know a certain sockless Spencer who will be sure to appreciate them. Out of curiousity, you navigate your way over to the men’s section and have a look through. Mostly, it’s all black and navy. Right at the back though, you spy a similarly garish looking pack, this time with vegetables on.

You put them in the basket, eyes flickering over a pair of matching aubergine patterned boxers, as you make your way over to the tights. You select your usual kind, turning your attention back to the boxers.

Is it weird to get him boxers?

He’d know it was a joke, right?

Is it weird to get him socks?

Well he didn’t have any

Yeah but you don’t need to get him two packs

Yes I do we might be here a while

10 more days?

He could fall. He could spill coffee on his shoes. He could get shot.

How would socks help with him getting shot?

Your internal monologue gives you a moments reprieve, and then.

Kinda weird you got him socks

Nobody else would have got him socks

Yeah well I’m just thoughtful.

The last thought crosses your mind without permission, and you almost bristle at the brazenness of your lie to yourself. However, you decide, examining the real reasons you’re so eager to provide comfort to your favourite co-worker would require mental stamina you didn’t have right now. Mental stamina that would be better put to use on the case at hand. Mental stamina that definitely wasn’t being used to employ the BAU’s favourite defense mechanism: denial.

***

“I got you a surprise.”

“A surprise?” Spencer spins around in his chair to face you.

“Yep,” You say, plopping the sweets down onto the desk in front of him and grinning.

“Strawberry laces!” He says, smile lighting up his face, “Thanks ____!”

“That’s not the surprise.”

He quirks his brow, confusion tugging at his features, “Then what’s the surprise?”

You untuck your arms from behind your back, handing him the pairs of socks.

He looks down at them. He’s silent for a moment, and your heart thuds.

Fuck.

Told you it was weird.

It’s definitely weird.

He definitely thinks you’re-

You don’t have time to finish that thought, however, because Spencer scoots his chair back. Standing up, he pulls you into a hug. He gently squeezes you, and when he speaks his voice is low, cracking a little.

“Thank you,” He says quietly, “That was really thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

You lean into him, allowing yourself to be enveloped, “No problem. I know you have some issues with sensory things sometimes and I just thought, you know,” you trail off, “Anyway, I didn’t know which ones you’d prefer and I know you like to mix and match anyway so I just got both.”

He doesn’t say anything. But he squeezes you again, tighter this time, before releasing you. Strangely, he won’t meet your eye as he does.

“I’m gonna go put them on, okay?”

“Okay,” You say, watching a little quizically as he hurriedly heads out of the room.

Derek happens to be heading back to the room, bumping into Spencer on his way out.

“You alright kid?” He asks.

“I'm fine," Spencer says, waving him off. He tries to avoid meeting Derek’s eyes, knowing as well as he does that if the profiler catches the look on his face he’ll be found out.

Derek allows him to shrug past him with a confused glance over his shoulder. He walks into the room, scooping the nearest file off the desk and asking in your general direction, “You know what’s up with him?”

“Nope,” You say, popping the p.

You don’t. And it’d bother you, except you genuinely don’t have time right now to dwell on it. Although, try as you might to focus on narrowing down this list of factories in the area, it niggles at you.

***

You don’t see Spencer again until you’re heading out to the unsubs location. You get called out by Hotch in the minute before he returns, and then it’s all guns blaring. Emily and Dave managed to work some magic with Penelope, and the place he’s holding the hostage has been narrowed down to a factory quite far out of town.

You’re perched in the back, discussing entry tactics with Hotch when your eyes travel down to Spencer’s shoes.

One chicken, and one broccoli sock sit on his left and right feet respectively. It’s hard to see them though, with how far they are down his feet.

Hotch answers his phone then, immediately barking down commands at the local PD who are apparently failing to summon adequate manpower, in Hotch’s opinion at least.

You take the moment to cautiously lean over to Spencer, whispering, “Were they not the right size?”

He smiles at you, “They fit just fine as ankle socks.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think to check the sizes, womens ones are pretty much all one size. I completely forget that men have massively different sized feet.”

He laughs, “Are you suggesting I have huge feet?”

You feel yourself flush a little, “I don’t think that’d necessarily be an inaccurate suggestion.”

Amused, he smiles. Hotch turns around to you both, momentarily taking his eyes off the road, “I need you to call Penelope, and tell her to get us all the CCTV she can get in the area. If we’re going to have to go in without enough men to cover the perimeter we’ll need all the tactical advantages we can get.”

“Of course, sir.”

***

Lunging forward, you tackle the unsub to the ground, effectively freeing Spencer from the grasp he’d previously been held in.

“It’s over Peter,” Hotch’s voice comes, even and steady.

“No it’s not.”

Before you can even register what’s happening, you’re being tossed backwards, landing against some barbed wire. Immediately, you’re on your feet again, running after him. Not noticing how the wire has ripped a hole in your tights, and cut into your leg a little.

Grabbing his arms behind him, you use all your strength to subdue him to the floor, handcuffing him. Wiping the sweat off your brow, you breathe out a deep sigh of relief.

Derek has it from there, patting you on the shoulder and giving you a “Good job kiddo.” He leads Peter out.

You rub your chest, feeling the adrenaline start to flood out of your body with all the excitement now over. A stinging senstation in your calf gets your attention, and looking down you see the nasty wound oozing blood. It isn’t much, nothing that two stitches won’t fix.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asks, having gotten up from his position on the floor, “You didn’t have to...Derek would have gotten him.”

“Why should he be the only one that gets to tackle people?” You ask, letting out a breathless tinkle of a laugh.

“Statistically, he is the one who does the most tackling out of all of us. Then Hotch, then Emily, then Rossi, then me, then you.”

“I am not the one that tackles the least,” You say indignantly.

He tips his head to the side, “Are you gonna argue with the guy who has an eidetic memory or are we going to get you stitched up?”

“Both, please.”

He laughs at that, linking his arm around your waist. You limp against him a little, out to the paramedics. Mostly it’s for Spencer’s benefit. That’s what you tell yourself, you’re letting him help you so he doesn’t feel emasculated.

When has Spencer Reid ever fallen pray to toxic masculinity?

He might have

When?

Well he could

You just like how he smells

It’s true. The faint waft of his cologne is incredibly comforting. He doesn’t loosen his grip on you for even a second, helping to hoist you so you can sit on the ambulance bed while the medics attend to your leg. You’re feeling a little woozy, so Spencer sits next to you, allowing you to lean on him for support.

“Can you tell me something?” You ask, gritting your teeth, “Distract me?”

It doesn’t really hurt, getting stitched up, you’ve just never found it the most comfortable of processes. All your favourite cases have ended with you not having to get sewn up. You know that much.

“I’ve actually only tackled one more person than you in my entire BAU career,” He says, deciding to return to your former discussion, “I didn’t really go out in the field all that much until a couple years in, it was only because of Hotch that I really went out in the field to take down an unsub for the first time. That was March 12th, 2005. You’ve only been here 9 months and have done almost as much physical stuff as me. One more and we’re even.”

“Well, if you could try not to be the person getting tackled by the unsub next time. Then I might not have to make a tackle.”

His mouth turns up at the corner, “You tackled him for me?”

You feel yourself growing embarassed, “Not for you. For the socks.”

“Oh the socks?”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s a little unfair to go putting yourself in harms way while wearing a gift someone got for you. 5 dollar socks Spencer, practically designer at that price, I’d hate to see them ruined day one.”

He laughs, his tone playful, “Well you’ll need to bare that in mind.”

“Huh?”

He tilts his head towards Emily, strutting her way across to the ambulance with Spencer’s go-bag in her arms. She hands it to him, smiling at you.

“Should I let Morgan know the team will no longer be in need of his services?”

You snort, “I’d hate to steal his brand.”

She shakes her head, “Drinks when we get back? Hotch said the jet’s ready for whenever you’re done, and Rossi says he’s buying.”

“You got it,” You nod.

She pats you on the shoulder, exaggeratedly eyeing your leg again and rolling her eyes as she walks away, “Idiot.”

You smile, turning back towards Spencer, “Are you coming for drinks? I can drive you home.”

He visibly considers it for a moment, “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

“You’re all done here,” The paramedic interrupts, wiping down your leg with an anti-bacterial wipe, “Was a really smooth tear for barbed wire, shouldn’t leave that much of a scar.”

They press a bandage over it and you thank them, getting to your feet with the help of Spencer.

“Wait, why’d you get Emily to bring your go-bag if we’re going home?”

He looks almost bashful. Out of his bag, he pulls a three pack of tights. Just the kind you always wear. Down to your preferred brand, and everything.

“When did you-?”

“I noticed you rip them a lot while we’re on cases. I didn’t know if it was weird but then...the socks?” He gestures at his feet, floundering, “I’m sorry if that’s...I just didn’t-”

“No,” You cut off his ramble, “No, Spencer, that’s really sweet. Thank you, thank you so much. Can I hug you?”

He nods, happily. You wrap him into your arms, pressing your face against his chest. Inhaling the scent of him. Reveling in how safe you feel, how protected, thinking how you’d take three hundred stitches if it meant you got Spencer out of harms way. He was so thoughtful, so kind, so attentive to detail.

Oh fuck.

You can barely look at him. It hits you like a train, the realisation. Co-workers save each other from unsubs. Friends buy each other gifts that have meaning and value. But only somebody who is in love feels like this when they get handed tights. Oh.

It’s a warm feeling. Overwhelming. So much so that you miss Spencer saying he’ll be right back, scooting off to Rossi who’s shouting him over with a question the local PD need answering for their report.

You stumble a little, thankful that you have the blood loss and adrenaline rush to blame if anybody were to notice.

You wait for the wave of denial to hit, to come and lock your feelings back in the treasure chest you’ve managed to shove them down into now. It doesn’t come. Instead, you look at Spencer with a sense of awe that feels newfound, but has actually been here all along. Watching him speak to Rossi, you really notice him: just how much he gestures with his hands, how quickly he relays information, how the huge smile on his face, when he turns around to notice you staring, truly meets his eyes.

***

You can’t tell if it makes you a good profiler, or somewhat of a stalker, that you notice Spencer wears the ankle socks you got him to work everyday for the next 9 days.

Spencer worries he’s being a little too obvious, but he can’t help that whenever he sees the socks he beams at them. They remind him of you. Unbeknownst to everybody but Dave (who somehow notices everything), he spends a good minute or so a day sneaking a peek at the novelty socks under his converse. And then trailing his eyes over to you. Thinking how much he loves the person who got them for him.

----

B is for Blindfolds

Tagslist (this is just people who replied to the post about this series and said they’d like to be tagged! let me know if you’d like to be added/removed to this series masterlist): @reidingmelodies @rem-ariiana

[yesokaythatsfine69]

You Sexy Thing (Levi Ackerman x reader)

Description: Often Captain Levi is a little shit, and sometimes- he needs to be reminded about who's in control.

Character(s): Y/n, Levi

Pov: 2nd person, third person

Warning(s): SMUT!!! PORN WITHOUT PLOT- PEGGING, 18+

A/n: I keep seeing all this talk about pegging Levi Ackerman but I couldn't find anything to show- so in the words of Thanos, "I guess I'll do it myself"

Word Count:

*none of the Gifs used are mine, full credit goes to the maker :)

Your fists clenched, nails digging into the palms, on the verge of breaking skin. The yelps of your fellow squad members caused your teeth to grind. They had to have ran over four miles today- probably more- they had to do suicides double time, all of this shit and more were because the lovely supreme commander of heaven and hell, Squad leader Levi Ackerman had felt their cleaning of the stalls had been less than ideal.

Currently you were in the midst of doing push ups till he deemed fit. You glanced up at the captain, watching as his silver eyes roamed over the lot of you. Even as you seethed and raged- he was still the most gorgeous sight your eyes had ever laid upon. Levi's hair was raven black, in contrast to his light skin and silvery orbs. His hair was what caught you at first- the way it seemed to fall over his eyes just a bit.

It was long enough you could pull your fingers through- you were sure. You could only imagined how soft it must be. Levi facial features also caught you at a loss for words- they were quite dainty. Long black eye lashes, a soft line nose, and thin pink lips. God, was he pretty.

Your eyes moved from their spot, away from your Adonis and to the ground. No matter how pretty he was, he was still a bastard.

You mumbled incoherently to yourself, flexing your fists. The pain of doing another pushup finally getting to you. "Tch, I think you've all learned your lessons." You looked up again, knees dropping. The Devil himself spoke, lifting his hand and waving it in dismissal. "Go to the showers, you brats stink." Blowing a strand of hair from your eye, you rolled your shoulders back, taking Petra's outstretched hand as you bounded up.

No one spoke as they dispersed. You were itching for a shower, and you practically ran to get one.

You were dead tired, dead sleepy, and running on pure anger.

You watched the water flow into the drain near your feet, fixated on nothing but the boiling water as it hit you. Your anger had not evaporated-it simply grew. If he thought he could've done a better job, maybe he should have done it. You slammed the water off.

Or perhaps- and this was just a thought- he could let you get some real training in, instead of wasting your time and energy on being punished.

Punished.

Your eyes narrowed.

You stepped from the shower, one foot at a time.

Perhaps...the omnipotent captain Levi deserved a punishment of his own. Something that would...bring him down a peg.

You smiled, remembering a certain box hid underneath just for this type of reason.

"I think I might have just the thing."

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

Levi was just as sexy (if not more) than he was pretty. Something about him, oozed it. Maybe it was the way he walked, confident but not egotistical. They way spoke- his voice. His dry humor, his bleak expressions, his impeccable fighting skills and savagery...his taunt ass, or maybe it was the way his uniform hugged his body.

Your hands tugged at a box that laid deep beneath your bed. It scraped against the floor, finally sliding directly in front of you. You unhooked the latch, pulling out the important piece of equipment you'd need tonight.

You bit your tongue.

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

The truth was, you could spot a bottom from a mile away. It was also the people who needed control in their daily lives- people who needed everything perfect. At night they liked to take a break- to be controlled. Who were you to judge? You couldn't blame them, not hardly.

You knocked at his office door. It was late, barely a few minutes before lights out. For several seconds nothing happened, but you waited. Patience was a specialty.

"Come in." The tone was annoyed, and as you entered you could see why. He had stacks of papers before him, a signal candle lighting the room. Levi rubbed his temples, a sign that the dim lighting had an affect.

His eyes flickered up to met yours, "lieutenant Y/L/N?" The air was tense and goosebumps erupted across your forearms. "Captain Levi, I'm glad I caught you." His Expression remained unchanging. "Tch, yeah, I'm sure. What do you want, brat?"

You smiled, your hands intertwining from behind your back. "You to apologise." His entire body paused. Levi twitched his head to the side, a small movement. "Oh? So you're here to waste both are times then, y/l/n." You turned, locking his office door behind you.

Levi stood. "Oi, oi, oi, what do you think you're doing?" You turned back to face him. "The only person who wasted our time today was you." His eyes narrowed slightly. This was a side of you he hadn't been used to. Sure, he'd seen this intense focus on your face before, this same expression you wore when you sliced and diced titan after titan.

"Tch, what are you on about you stupid-" I'm flash you had his hair in your grip, dragging his head to you. "It's not nice to call people stupid, Levi." His eyes were wide, and his face was inches away from your own. "I can forgive that though, especially when you look so pretty like this."

His eyes sunk back, his shock leaving him. "Oi, I guess you've got me where you want me." You smiled, innocence twinkled in your irises. "Not yet I don't." Loosening your tight grip, you gently guided his head to close the gap between you two.

His eyes fluttered close upon impact, the tenseness he often carried with his resolve melting away with the warmth of your lips. You hummed, feeling the way he seemed to open up with your touch. Gently you scratched his scalp, pulling a sigh from his mouth.

When it opened you wasted no time slipping in your tongue. He tasted like tea, which wasn't suprising but was rather delightful. He let out a small groan as she gave his bottom lip a small bite, tugging softly. Her hands slipped underneath his shirt, dancing across his warm chest and abs. The feeling of what lied beneath was enticing and she pulled away eager to see it.

Levi groaned when you left him, an irritated, "y/n." Leaving his lips as his arms tried to find you, to bring you back to him. You escaped him though and worked to pull his shirt off.

When you had an object so important it was natural that worked as efficiently as possible to succeed. With that mindset you had him shirtless within seconds, Levi felt that had to be some type of record.

With his comfort in mind as soon as his shirt was off you folded it properly, working as efficiently as you had to take if off of him. When your eyes met his, they twinkled with something akin to admiration. You smiled and pulled him into a chaste kiss, his tongue moving to part your lips, but fire he could succeed you began moving.

You kissed his chin, and he frowned. "What are-" Then you kissed his neck and a shiver racked his body. His breath quickened and shook, your lips planting directly over his heartbeat. You sucked, making sure to leave him as many reminders of tonight as you could.

Your lips moved down his chest, blessing each nipple with a tug of teeth. Licking a stripe down his v line, you unbottoned his pants. He moaned, "y/n..." Watching as you tugged down his underwear with your teeth. His length sprained free, looking almost as eager as you.

"Stunning..." You spoke licking a line up his shaft. His legs shook at your move and you laughed, wrapping your first around his base. "It can't be this easy, Levi." He blinked looking down at you in bewilderment.

You lifted yourself up, becoming eye level with him. As light as a feather you stroked his cheek, his head leaning into your hand as though it were instinct. "I figured humanity's strongest would have put up more of fight." His eyes narrowed. "Especially since you seem to love giving orders." Your nails stabbed into his skin, his eyes widened and he pulled back "tch! You bitch!"

Your other hand grabbed his neck, squeezing it and bringing him to you. "I've wanted you for so long. Do you have any idea how hard it is to be so close and yet so far, to someone everyone wants." "Y/n." Levi whimpered as your hand tightened around his throat. "Maybe you do know how much you're wanted. Maybe you like it." You let go and he fell forward, you catching him.

"I guess we'll just have to add that to lists of why you must be punished." You pushed him to his knees, his pants still wrapped around his ankles. Your foot spread his legs apart, and kept them there. Your hand found his chin, pulling his face up.

"i hope you like this view, you'll need to get used to it." You pulled up your shirt, taking it off effortlessly. His eyes widened at your chest- you had chosen to go braless. Then, they relaxed, his tongue going between his teeth.

You pulled your pants off next, and then your underwear. The strap you had put on before you left your room flung out, and Levi looked between you and it. "Like I said, you need to be punished..." You stroked the strap on. "I consider this the punisher." You voice had dropped an octave lower.

Levi took on a dazed expression, half lidden eyes taking in the sight. "Open your mouth." His eyes flickered back up to you. They were big and puppy like."I said." You reached down and pinched his two cheeks together. "Open. Your. Mouth." His pretty little mouth popped open, and your hips thrusted the device in. Your hand ran through his hair as he sucked, when you reached the back of his head you pushed him forward.

Levi gagged around your cock, the fake tip hitting the back of his throat. Tears prickled, in his eyes, but your coos to take in more, to be a good boy for you, they caused his brows the furrow as he adjusted and did what he could to please you.

Using your grip on his head he allowed you guide him at your will, submitting to the drive of your hands. His eyes closed finally and your leg pressed up against his own hard on. "Who would've thought humanity's strongest could look so hot sucking dick." You spoke softly, causing your good boy to moan into the dick.

Finally, you pulled away watching the strings of salvia appear and separate as you let him go. His head bobbled towards you, his eyes barely open.

"fuck me...please." you bent down to where he was. "Oh baby..." Again, you stroked his cheek gently. "I'll do so much more than that to you. When I'm done with you...you won't be able to walk tomorrow." His breathe caught and you laughed. "Be my good boy and go to your desk. Ass out."

You watched him stand and walk to his desk, still filled with long forgotten papers and a dimly lit candle. You stood and moved to the neat pile you had placed his clothes in.

You pulled out his belt, smiling and snapping it. This could be useful.

You moved to where he stood, wrapping yourself behind him. "How well you listen, Levi." You slammed his upper body down onto the desk, pulling his hips up. His ass was on full display in the air, as perky as you imagined. Taking two fingers, you shoved them up is mouth.

Levi didn't need a command, his tongue went right to work. He wrapped it around your fingers while he moaned, pushing his hips against you and your cock.

"cheeky, cheeky." You smirked taking your free hand to grab his ass. Finally satisfied you pulled her fingers from his mouth.

"more..." His voice rasped out. "More? I haven't even started." With that you pushed your fingers into his tight hole. You began scissoring them, watching as he twitched beneath you. His breathing became louder the more you curled. Then you hit his prostate and he cried out, gasping at the intense pleasure you gave him.

Your fingers pulled out, and you reached for the belt that you had placed beside him for such a moment. "Tch, y/n please you must-" you reared the belt back and slammed it forward, the belt bouncing off his ass with a thrup! Sound. He gasped delightedly, his cheek pressed up against the cold metal of his desk.

Again you reared down, jolting his body. "You." Slap. "Think." Slap. "That." Slap. "You." Slap. "Can." Slap. "Just." Slap. "Treat." Slap. "People." Slap. "Like." Slap. "Shit." Slap. "Just." Slap. "Because." Slap. "You." Slap. "Are." Slap. "A." Slap. "Squad." Slap. "Leader." Tears streamed from his eyes, ass red and tender.

"you can't." You grabbed his hands from his sides, "and now you're going to be tied up with your own belt, right after you were just spanked with your own belt." You slide the belt around till it was tight enough to only hurt a bit.

Then you you raised his hands directly over his head. This was used as something to grip onto while you fucked him.

Her other hand made sure you two were properly aligned, and with little more than a grunt you thrusted in. A breath released from his body, a shout escaped his lips as you bottomed out.

You waited several seconds, gently stroking his face and cooing to him, waiting. Finally he nodded, telling you everything you needed to know. You pulled back, almost completely out, save for the tip before you plowed into him.

Your hips thrusted- hard and faster. The only way Levi Ackerman deserved- rough. Each time you bottomed out he grunted and it became a steady rhythm of grunts.

"nnnuh...nuuhhnn..ahhh..." He was drooling, each hit of his prostate weakening his resolve a bit more and making him a bit more needy for more.

Your position made it almost impossible for him to move and he could really only met your thrusts. "Harder!" He gasped out, tears running down his face, drool dripping from his mouth.

Your hand reached around and tugged along his dick, high pitched whines now leaving the captains mouth. "Y/n! Y/n I'm so close please, please." You bent down and bit into his shoulder, causing another Yelp to leave the squad leader.

"cum, bitch." You whispered to his ear and with a cry Levi Ackerman came, his eyes practically crossing as he painted his chest and desk white.

He laid their several seconds, breathing harshly and listening to the sounds of your praises. He was a good boy, he was. He was your good boy now, all yours.

Gently you helped him up and into his shower, fully discarding his bottoms and your strap, to take back to your room to wash.

You cleaned, scrubbed, and were as gentle as possible, making sure to help him to his bed.

You pulled your shirt over your head. "I can stay till you leave for breakfast...if you want that is but-" he cut you off. "Tch...Stay as long as you want." He pulled himself up and onto his elbows. "Especially since you didn't cum."

You raised a brow. "Levi, I appreciate it, but I don't think you're read yet...I mean- we-" again he cut you off. "Y/n, my mouth is always ready."

You paused. He was right, you hadn't cum and not very often did the people you slept with care. He was offering his mouth to you- not that Levi surprised you much- he was very caring and it seemed natural he'd be that way in bed.

You smiled and tugged off your shirt. "I hope you're hungry." You crawled into the bed, barely having to do a damn thing as Levi simply hoisted you up- as if you weighed nothing- and sat you on his face.

His nose carded through your folds- parting them for his tongue. Your hips buckled against him, thighs closing around his face. His hands came up and wrapped around them, pressing them together.

"Fuck, Levi." You moaned as his tongue licked from your hole to your clit, where he sucked for several seconds. Again he pushed his nose up into you, allowing you to ride his face and practically suffocate him. "God, you're so good." You squealed, yanking at his raven locks. He had definitely done this before and definitely knew how good he was.

He hummed into you, pushing you down each time your hips buckled up. Finally it seemed he had enough with your erratic movements before he flipped you into your back and moved so that he was on his stomach, mouth never leaving your core.

Your legs wrapped around his head as he ate, each time dipping his head in deeper to your core. His tongue fucked your hole with urgency, meaning, desire and finally with one final plunge you came, wetting his face.

He pulled away, allowing you to sit up. Your legs were shaky, but you moved so that you were directly in front of him. You licked your juices from his face, meeting him in a chaste kiss.

"Maybe I should be more harsh on you cadets more often." He spoke hurriedly as she pushed him down. You tutted. "Did you really learn nothing, my sweet boy?" He shrugged allowing you to pin his hands down above him.

"What can I say? I am the leader of the brats."

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

BONUS

Erwin frowned at his friend and colleague. The two had been eating breakfast together and everything had seemed rather ordinary until Erwin noticed a bruise on the side of Levi's neck.

"uh..Levi?" Levi glanced up. "Where did you get that bruise?" Levi frowned at Erwin. "What bruise?" Erwin rolled his eyes impatiently. "The one on your neck."

"Hello everyone! I hope everyone slept well!" Hanji appeared interrupting the conversation. She slid into a chair on the other side of Levi, smiling happily.

Erwin made a few more glances at Levi's neck, but felt it best to leave it, lest he be smitted by the all powerful Levi Ackerman.

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A/n: BARK BARK BARK okay I definitely got a bit...carried away. Anyways I hope you enjoyed this, thanks for reading, and pls feel free to give critism!

[mammons-tax-returns]

How would Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Diavolo react to a male MC who wears skirts (because *chants* men in skirts, it’s masculine af) on the daily? bonus if the MC wears black nail polish!

REACTING TO MC THAT WEARS SKIRTS

LOVE THIS PROMPT 🙏

During this I imagined 💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻TANGO DANCER SOLOMON and thats going into my art idea list

masterlist

���️MALE MC✖️

Not unlike all the other boys, Lucifer is willing to risk it all as soon as he sees it.

His favorite cut of skirt is the classic a-line ones, both modest and not.

A CLOSE second goes to wrap skirts.

This is a SFW blog so I will not be going into any detail at this time ✨

Literally loses his breath everytime he sees MC, and it surprises him.

If MC isn’t already wearing the RAD skirt, he’s already offering to get him a set. Almost too eagerly?

When MC decides to not wear a skirt one day, he tries not to make it too obvious, but he’s simply curious as to why is all. Maybe a tad bit let down.

MC insisted one time that Lucifer painted his nails for him, and...

“Well, normally Asmo is the one doing that for all of us...”

“But Lucifer 🥺”

“Alright... Fine. But I’ll have to continue my paperwork in between each layer.

It’s just kinda cute to think that he would spend an incredibly unnecessary amount of time on each nail, trying to perfectly lay down the polish. Occasionally, his tongue will poke out because of his concentration.

There’s some slip ups here and there, but mentioning them will only get him flustered.

I don’t use this word lightlySIMP SIMP SIMP

He thinks he loves MC in every skirt imaginable just as equally as the last (which, he actually might) but deep down he can’t deny that a mini skirt just hits different.

The first time he saw MC wearing a mini skirt, mammon’s initial reaction was to cover him up before anyone could see him.

However, he failed to realize that he was actually the last of the brothers to see him, since he woke up late.

But that’s just what being the avatar of greed does to you. You just want to keep what’s yours, no matter what.

But considering his jacket isn’t as big as Lucifer’s or Solomon’s, he ended up just holding it up against MC’s lower half and stood in front of him.

It took the coaxing of MC and the snark comments of his siblings to make Mammon finally allow MC to walk around freely.

Looking back on it, Mammon most certainly understands why even Asmo had called him clingy.

But even now, he can’t help but hold MC a little bit closer in public when so many demons are staring at him! It just feels wrong to allow them to do that.

Cut him some slack, he thinks MC looks amazing, and he trusts him, but they’re literally in hell surrounded by demons. He just wants to keep his boy safe <33

Levi doesn’t even realize what MC’s wearing at first.

In fact, he doesn’t realize even after their first FEW encounters.

He only notices because while Mammon was ranting to him and Satan about money, he brings up MC and his “stupid and cute but also dumb skirts”

Levi is baffled that he’s the only one that hasn’t noticed it. So, the next time he walks by MC’s room, he contemplates stopping by to talk. Right... Socialize. That.

While Levi is stuck in his thoughts, MC opens the door, presumably ready to go out to a party with Mammon and Asmo.

*fish man short circuits*

MC looks...! S-so cute....!

- thinks the third born otaku.

Because I’m big on fashion, I can kind of picture an exact skirt I feel would apply to him. Let your mind run free but I imagine a semi-sheer maxi skirt with water-like embellishments uwu

But don’t get me wrong, Levi literally loves seeing MC in skirts so anything will get him like 😳 yall know how he is

Actually starts to get more interested in feminine fashion because of MC. And one day, he purchases a long black skirt from Akuzon.

He saw a popular cosplayer wearing one, and so he makes that his excuse.

No one even realizes the change except for Asmo, who gushes over the new look, even if it barely changed. MC also notices, but only compliments him/brings it up when they’re alone so Levi doesn’t overheat.

I was this close to typing “Satan is a man of beauty and FASHION” can you believe that

OKAY ENOUGH SATAN SLANDER

Satan... He can recognize when someone else looks ridiculous.

But he knows for a FACT. That MC very likely pulls off a skirt better than anyone he’s seen before.

Call him biased, but he sincerely loves it on MC specifically.

He likes the puffier skirts because they’re ADORBS, but for a more casual look, there’s this one asymmetrical skirt in particular that makes MC look so handsome to him.

He has no idea why men don’t wear skirts more often! Surely MC isn’t the only one that can do it!

Oh. Right. Gender norms 😪🤚🏼

Satan feels his anger crawl up his skin when he watches MC get ridiculed. And just for something he simply enjoys wearing! The nerve of demons.

He advances to “de-escalate” the situation in the most “avatar of wrath” way possible, but when he sees MC’s slumped shoulders walking away from him, he feels more inclined to follow and comfort him.

Satan gives an icy glare to the irrelevant demons, taking note of their faces, and goes after MC.

He doesn’t immediately bring up the situation, instead opting to go out on a spontaneous date to a nice café or a shopping district. Anything to distract from the situation subtly.

If his plan works out, splendid. Anything to make light of situation without even addressing it for even a day is good.

If the shopping and food doesn’t quite bring MC’s smile to his eyes, Satan will just have to be forward with his feelings for once.

“MC. I’m not entirely sure how I can get it through to you, but you shouldn’t be worrying about what some moronic, low-level demons think of you or your clothes. Much less what they say. Just be you, and make them suffer ten times worse.”

MC relishes in his words, even if the last bit sounded more like a threat than anything.

The last thing Satan would ever do is let MC even hesitate wearing an outfit that he would have had no trouble throwing on any other day because of someone else.

Asmo screams (in a happy way)

“No, Mammon! You’re wrong. MC is NOT my personal dress-up doll! He’s my model.”

Trying to break the stigma around Asmo’s “shallow” personality, let’s get the obvious things out of the way.

He and MC shop together pretty much every other day. It’s almost concerning. And nail appointments are, of course, regular.

NOW THAT THAT’S OVER,

Yes yes, Asmo loves the skirts and wonderfully glossy black nails, but there’s still such a massive divide between him and MC. Not physically, or even relationship-wise.

He’s never met someone like MC, who is so fashion-heavy and just the right amount of self-centered.

He thinks its the fact that they’re a human and demon. But he’s seen firsthand that the line between what makes a demon so different from a human is very thin. Solomon is an example of that.

But he realizes it’s just MC. He’s simply dressing for himself and himself only.

Asmo loves himself, there’s no doubt. And it’s nice to go out and dress fancy for others. He couldn’t dream of another lifestyle.

But he has to admit that what MC is doing is working for him. He comes off as a charming sort of man when he ignores the negative comments made about his clothes.

He knows that people in both Devildom and the human realm are a little sensitive when it comes to men in skirts. And the fact that MC continues to wear them is beautiful in and of itself.

This got kind of deep out of nowhere and i apologize but Asmo deserves to be seen for more than he’s constantly portrayed as 😞

Diavolo isn’t really thrown off that much by it at first, but as time passes, he starts to understand the appeal of skirt-wearing MC.

PENCIL SKIRT LOVER 🚨🔊PENCIL SKIRT LOVER🚨🚨🚨🔊🔊🔔🗯

Barbatos has to remind him that it’s rude to stare, but he finds it almost entertaining how whipped they BOTH are for MC.

Like Asmo, he actually loves bringing him out to shop!

The only difference between the two experiences is that Diavolo has no fucking idea what he’s doing when he picks out clothes for him.

Which leads to some pretty funny/terrible clothing combinations.

No, Diavolo, MC will not be wearing a flannel top with a camouflage hi-low skirt. Put those plaid socks away.

He’s confused and even a little sad when MC continues to turn down his ideas, but he figures that he should turn this into a learning opportunity.

So he lets MC grab whatever he wants, and patiently waits for him to finish up in the fitting rooms.

The store clerk is shitting her pants at the sight of the literal future ruler of Devildom hyping MC up with the energy of a puppy retriever.

Barbatos does an amazing job pretending like this doesn’t affect him.

He’s a classy man, he just internally loses it when he sees MC in any fancy skirt, really. From silky gold ruffles to a victorian-esc vibe, he’s obsessed.

So when Diavolo makes arrangements for an event/ball, Barbatos makes sure to, at the very least, offer to help MC get ready at the castle. He may not be the most fashion-centric but being able to spend time with MC in an extravagant get up is enough to make a demon butler interested.

Most of the time he’s disappointed because in between the seven brothers, he’d be lucky to be able to see MC at all because of how jealous they can all get.

I can imagine that even Diavolo doesn’t get to hear what Barbatos has to say about MC and his ability to make him weak at the knees.

But all it takes is Diavolo prompting, “MC’s outfit tonight... It was a sight for sore eyes, correct?”

Then, Barbatos lets a compliment or two slip out.

I can also imagine MC wearing a slightly short snd flowy skirt, and some rather disgusting demons waiting for it to get picked up by the wind, only for Barbatos to already be there, discreetly holding the fabric down and shooting them an intensely calm smile

Barbatos will always be one step ahead of creeps.

👀..

sneaky boy is sneaky.. especially with the constant glances he gives MC.

Solomon’s favorite type of skirt to see on MC is DEFINITELY pleated. No other option.

Unlike Lucifer, if MC isn’t wearing a skirt, he makes it clear that he wishes he would’ve.

It’s in a playful manner, though! Don’t worry.

“No skirt today? Bummer. That’s fine though, I can’t expect myself to feel attracted any less.”

I imagine MC wearing a flowy skirt to some sort of event at the demon lord’s castle, and he uses his magic to make it temporarily sparkle or shine.

This mf flashy and wants EVERYONE to know that MC is dancing with HIM and no one else.

But if you ask him about it, what? What’re you talking about? Lights?? Emitting from your skirt??? While we were dancing ?¿ Crazy talk. I would never do such a thing.,.

As childish as it is, he loves to see the way it flows when MC twirls or turns.

Not in a weird way, either. It’s just beautiful to him.

So, not to be cheesy (which he WITHOUT A DOUBT is.) but he’ll occasionally just spin MC by his hand throughout the day, then catch/dip him by the waist.

[mingoyeob-archive]

1 and 50 with oc😊

under the oak tree drabble game ⚔️🌳 to make up for my delayed release of part 3 of under the oak tree i’ve decided to do a drabble game! send me a number + any of the characters from under the oak tree and i’ll write you a drabble :)

jsfejfkhw these keep ending up longer than intended but I'm doing this for you anon <3 thank you so much for requesting!

I'm still taking requests guys if you want to send some in! check out my tag 'drabble game' to see which ones I've already done :)

1. “I can’t believe I’m doing this” + 50. “You’re lucky I love you” - jjk x reader - word count: 1.6k

Being new to Uwhen meant knowing practically no one. You would think living in a castle full of knights and servants and maids meant you would always have someone to keep you company, but no. Your naturally soft spoken ways and tendency to distance yourself from crowds only pushed you to hole yourself up in your room or hide outside amongst the courtyard and stables. Namjoon must've noticed how lost and lonely you always looked (it was his job to look after the castle and its tenants after all) because after your umpteenth walk around the garden that day, he took it upon himself to assign you a task that would, hopefully, put you in better spirits.

“Here, take this.” A small travel and a pair of petite leather gloves was shoved in your direction, dwarfed by Namjoon's hands as he held them out to you. You reared your head back in surprise, eyes fleeting back and forth between the items and his expectant face, “What are these for?”

“For you!” he exclaimed, eyes brightening and face breaking out into a dimpled smile.

You let out a noise of confusion and quirked an eyebrow, finger pointing to your chest in question, “For...me? What do I need these for?” You had no idea what had got into the man, he barely ever talked to you, always busy dealing with some issue in the kitchen or trying to order supplies. It made you feel kind of guilty, that was all stuff you should’ve been doing as the Lady of the Castle, but your lack of education and inability to manage money correctly made the tasks nearly impossible.

Namjoon just cleared his throat, dropping his outstretched hands when you showed no signs of taking them from him. “Well I figured, since you look so dreadfully bored, perhaps picking up a hobby would make you feel better. I believe gardening is a great way to pass the time.”

So cautiously you had taken them. Not even your father expected you to do manual labor back at home, so this was unheard of, “I can't believe I’m doing this.” you said. Namjoon let out a snort at your words before proceeding to show you the areas around the castle that needed the most help, not that you needed him too as you had already walked them probably a hundred times over.  But still, from that day forward, you woke up early to garden and after three years you had rehabilitated the garden, the areas around the stables, pruned the shrubs and even pulled up a nasty infestation of weeds that surrounded the cobblestone pathways. But with your husband Jungkook finally coming home you had begun to put off your to-do list in a last ditch attempt to try and get to know him better, which was easier said than done.

You often compared Jungkook to the stone wall that surrounded the castle, hard to get through and constantly surrounded in a grey monotonous mood. Your efforts to hold a conversation with him were typically met with one word answers or a measly grunt which you learned, depending on the tone, was either a ‘yes’ or ‘no’.  Sometimes you couldn’t even tell if he was listening, which you could understand was hard since most of the times you caught him he was either in the middle of overseeing training or stuffing food in his mouth. Still, sometimes you wished he would take a second to hear you out; to want to get to know you as much as you wanted to know him.

So today you had decided to put a pause in your plan to discover your husband and instead went back to tackling your goal of finally fixing up the courtyard. There wasn’t really much to do in terms of the small area, the circular shape didn’t allow much except for a few benches and flower patches here and there. The most challenging part was the large oak tree that stood right in the middle surrounded by crinkled leaves and dying twigs. It was almost sad. Yoongi had told you the tree had been here as long as he can remember, probably a few hundred years.

“It didn’t always look like this, ya know. The old maids in the kitchen say it used to be the pride and joy of Uwhen. Hard to believe that now though.” His words had basically been a challenge, even if that hadn’t been his intention. By the end of this year, you were going to revive the tree no matter what it took.

And that was how Jungkook found you, covered in dirt and cutting at thick grass that surrounded the trunk of the tree. He was used to waking up in bed with your side empty, sheets neatly tucked and spot cold. But usually you would find your way to him by the middle of the day, telling him all about what you had spent doing around the castle, and even if he didn’t show it those times were the favorite part of his evening. Listening to your relaxing voice after a hard day of training with pestering young knights and sitting in war meetings was like being soothed by the softest melody. Oftentimes it left him speechless. How was he expected to compare your lovely stories to his boring responsibilities? He preferred listening to you rather than himself. You were probably only doing this out of pity anyway; why would you want to spend time with him when he so obviously made you uncomfortable judging by how tense and shaky you always were when in his presence.

The sound of his heavy boots crunching must’ve alerted you to his presence, your head whipping around and working fingers halting. Jungkook stood there awkwardly, embarrassed to have been caught staring at you so openly, “Sorry. I’ll leave.” he said, turning on his heel.

But the small giggle you let out in response had him stopping in his tracks, his heart skipping a beat, “Why would you leave? This is your castle and you’re free to roam wherever you please. Just pretend I’m not here, I’m just fixing up the tree a bit.”

“Why would you want to do that?” Way to sound like an asshole, Jungkook thought. The wide expression you had at his question had him internally scrambling to correct himself, “I mean...it’s obviously dead. Why waste your time?” You shook your head and pulled the dirty gloves off your fingers to place them on the ground, “Well it's not a waste of time to me. It’s actually pretty fun! Here,” you extended a hand out to him from your spot on the ground, beckoning him forward. “Would you like to try?”

“Me?” he quirked an eyebrow and pointed a finger to his chest. Talk about deja vu you thought amused and let out a giggle,“Yes you! Come on, I'll show you how.”

Jungkook just stared at you with his signature steely gaze and for a second you assumed he was going to walk away, uninterested in having to spend more time with you than necessary. But you watched in surprise when instead he proceeded over to you, taking your hand as he sat cautiously down next to you on the ground. He wondered if you could hear his heart beating hard in his chest at feeling how dainty and perfect your hand fit into his.

For the rest of the day the two of you spent time sitting in the dirt, you showing him the correct way to cut out the invasive roots to prevent them from growing back or how to properly plant the seeds to make sure the rain didn’t wash them away. And for once, Jungkook actually looked like he was listening, taking the time to ask questions when he didn’t completely understand why you had to do something a particular way. One question actually had you throwing your head back in laughter, ugly snorts and squeaky noises escaping your throat at how amused you were.

You always did hate your laugh, but for some reason Jungkook was mesmerized at how beautiful you looked, too caught up in how the sunlight framed your face just perfectly and how the rays hit the expanse of perfect skin down the column of your neck. He must’ve not been paying attention and got distracted while trying to cut something from the ground, because the next thing you know he was letting out a hiss and you heard the thump as he recoiled his hand effectively dropping the small shears. You jumped towards him in concern, reaching out to take his hand in yours to inspect the wound on his finger.

“Oh! Are you alright, Jungkook?!” You say and pull the digit up to your face, turning it to fully grasp how serious the cut was.

Jungkook hadn’t responded at first, heart warmed by how worried you seemed. Your face was so close to his he became distracted again, only realizing you had asked a question when you peeked up at him waiting for a response. He nodded, “Yes. I’m fine. Just a cut.”

You tsked, “I think we might need to wrap it. We can come back later to clean up but right now let's take you to wash this off, hmm?” You gave him a small smile of confirmation.

Jungkook didn’t say much else as you two got up off the ground, following you back towards the castle. When he finally did utter something from behind you, his words made you gasp, “You’re lucky I love you.”

[everlarkficexchange]

On the Hunt

Author: @hutchhitched

Prompt 39: Katniss has been bumping into the same stranger (Peeta) for months. When they get stuck in an unfortunate situation together, she decides to be the first to say hello. [submitted by @eiramrelyat / @taylerwrites]

Ratings/Warnings: T

The first time Katniss sees him, he takes her breath away. It’s from afar. He probably doesn’t even catch a glimpse of her, but her whole world tilts off its axis.

She’s not sure why he stands out to her. There’s nothing particularly unique about him. He’s not short or tall or big or small. He’s not drop-dead gorgeous or ugly like a troll. He doesn’t move like an athlete or sparkle with the magic of a performer. He appears normal in every sense of the word, but that doesn’t mean she can’t see how special he really is. At least she thinks he might be—if she had a chance to actually speak to him.

That doesn’t happen, though. She’s too far away when she sees him picking up a loaf of bread, and she can’t seem to move once he’s left her line of sight. She stays frozen in the freezer section (the irony!) for several minutes. Hopefully, everyone else thinks she’s considering her options in breakfast burritos, but she’s actually involved in an out of body experience that follows the young man from the back of the store to the registers, out the door, and into the parking lot where he must load his groceries into his car and drive away. His life is no different, but hers will never be the same.

It has to be because she’s lonely. It’s been a very long time since she’s been in a relationship. In fact, it’s been so long since she’s kissed a man, she kind of wonders if she’s forgotten how to do it. Katniss has never been that popular, but she’s enjoyed her fair share of attention. She tries really hard not to spiral out in the freezer section, but Christ on a cracker! Something about that specimen of manhood has made her question her life’s choices. Why hasn’t she run into him before now? Clearly, she’s been living wrong.

Except, she hasn’t. She’s done absolutely everything she knows to do to be a good person. She supports her little sister and sends money to her mother who needs every speck of help she can get. She has a best friend who’s been by her side since they both lost their fathers when they were barely teenagers. She helps out at a shelter and donates money to the food bank because she knows way too well how hunger can impact a person’s life. In other words, there’s no reason her weekly grocery trip should result in an upheaval to her world. It’s simply not fair, and she plans to file a complaint to who it is that runs fate and destiny. She has a bone to pick.

Somehow, she finds everything on her list and heads to the front of the store. When she gets there, she unloads her groceries and watches as the cashier scans each item. Digging into her wallet, she’s stunned to find she only has a twenty and the total keeps rising. Mortified, she watches as the number climbs to $34.15.

“I don’t have… I mean, can you take off the…”

Trying to figure out what she can live without until her next paycheck, she surveys the food and toiletries. Almost in tears, she stammers for a few seconds before the cashier speaks.

“Don’t worry. Another patron paid it forward. He left a twenty and asked that I use it if anyone needed help. Looks like you could use some.”

“I— I couldn’t. It’s not right.”

“The guy seemed pretty adamant that I only offer it to someone who could use a break. It seems like that could be you today.”

Katniss nodded slowly. “Do you have any idea who it is? I’d like to thank them.”

The cashier shook her head. “Young guy. Stocky, medium height, ashy blonde hair, blue eyes. Very polite. Named Peter, I think. Something like that.”

It’s got to be him. The description’s too similar to be a coincidence. It seems the guy that froze her in place with his looks is as kind and compassionate as he is special. Now, he’s even more intimidating.

She nods her thanks and takes the change and her purchases. The five in her pocket gives her a little joy, but the feeling of not having money still bothers her. Maybe it’s time to get a credit card. She’s been warned off them for so long that she never applied for one, but now, it might be something she should do. Maybe. It makes her nervous to think she could get in financial trouble with it. She’s been poor her entire life. It might be too tempting to resist.

When she makes it back to her apartment, her attempt to unpack her groceries is interrupted frequently by long pauses in which she fantasizes about finding the guy who’s rocked her world and given her daydreams about all the ways she needs to thank him (appropriately and not so much) for the rest of her life. It’s not unrealistic at all. Totally doable, she decides. After all, how hard can it be to find him again? They live in the same town.

****

The answer to that question is that it’s very hard. Difficult isn’t even the word to describe the problem she has in trying to find the Boy With the Bread, which is what she calls him even though he’s definitely an adult. The person she saw from afar was all man if the stretch of his shirt across broad shoulders was any indication. Still, the alliteration makes her smile, so she continues to refer to him as such.

It shouldn’t take so long, but it does. Months pass, and she wonders if she’s made it all up and imagined the creature that changed her life. She keeps her eyes open in public, scans the local news and social media sites, and seriously considers setting up an online dating site just to see if he’s looking for someone. She’s getting desperate, but then fate smiles on her again.

She’s sitting in a coffee shop, something she hardly ever does, when he walks in the door. She doesn’t normally have time for such a mundane, normal activity that other people her age seem to enjoy all the time. She’s usually working during the day, and she has no desire to consume copious amounts of caffeine after 5 pm when she gets off work. Today, though, she has time. She’s taken a half day to run errands and go to the dentist, and she needs the jolt the espresso will give her to survive her reduced shift.

He ducks through the doorway just as she’s taken a sip of her hot beverage, and she almost chokes on the liquid. He shakes the umbrella he’s holding just outside the door and shoves a riot of blonde curls off his forehead that have shrunken up and frizzed from the rain. It’s adorable.

He’s wearing an emerald Henley and faded jeans that hug all the right places. The sight of him freezes her in place, but that doesn’t stop her from tracking him as moves past her. She’s close enough to see his eyes are blue before he marches across the café and approaches a man sitting alone in the corner. They clasp hands and grin at each other, and the vision in green heads to the counter to order.

She’s dumbfounded. Here he is again after so long, and she can’t think of a single thing to say to him or how in the world to actually approach him without making her look absolutely insane. She racks her brain trying to think of an intelligent topic, but she’s jolted from that when the barista walks to the end of the bar and calls a name.

“Peeta! Chai Latte.”

That’s his name, she realizes, and it’s like the sun’s broken through thick, heavy clouds. It’s just unusual enough to fit him and still feel familiar. He smiles at the woman behind the bar and takes the cup from her. He ordered chai, and she files that information away for future reference. He might not like coffee, which seems important.

She’s pondering a trip to the bathroom just so she has an excuse to pass by him when she suddenly understands that he’s leaving. He and his friend are talking as they walk to the door, and she catches the sound of his voice.

“—we can change that, the numbers will—”

His words are swallowed by the rush of traffic outside, but that silky tone she hardly had a chance to listen to has already taken up residence in the part of her brain that creates unrealistic fantasies. She daydreams for longer than she should. In fact, it’s only the vibration of her phone against the table that reminds her she has to get to her job. What a chance encounter, but now she has a name to go with that face.

****

She’s tried to find him again. She’s googled and returned to the coffee shop when she’s had a spare minute or two. She’s asked around and continues to check dating sites. Nothing. She’s found absolutely nothing. Without a last name, she has very little idea how to find out anything else. Frustrated, she goes about her daily life with a weight on her shoulders that shouldn’t be there. He’s a stranger she’s glimpsed only a couple of times.

Frustrated and full of pent-up energy, she joins a gym. There’s nothing quite like working up a good sweat to ease tension and kickstart her brain, so she spends her free time running the track, lifting, and participating in every hot yoga class the establishment offers. After a month, she’s leaner and stronger than ever, but she hasn’t managed to come up with any ideas that might help her find the guy she desperately wants to thank for saving her when she wasn’t sure how she’d eat for a week.

She’s two laps into her normal ten when she glances down from the elevated track and spots a pickup game of three on three basketball on the far court. Three blonde men face off against three with dark hair, one of whom looks remarkably like her best friend Gale Hawthorne, who she hasn’t seen since he left town for a job almost a year ago. As she jogs closer to the court, she realizes it is him teamed up with his brothers. The blonde men look like siblings, too, but she doesn’t spare them much of a glance. She’s got more laps to go, and she doesn’t want to draw any attention to herself. Gale didn’t bother to tell her that he’s in town, and she’s a little miffed by that.

It’s another three passes by the court before it hits her that the blonde men look familiar. She puts on a burst of speed to get back to where she can see the men closeup and almost trips over her own feet when she spies him. It’s the guy. THE guy. The cashier had said Peter, and the barista had called him Peeta. She stops in her tracks and grabs the railing when someone bumps into her from behind.

“Watch it!” he yells as the jogger passes her. “You’re not supposed to stop on the track!”

She dismisses him with a wave and sprints to the nearest stairwell. If she can just catch them… She bounds down the stairs, three at a time, and bursts into a bustling walkway. She dodges and shoves her way free and streaks around the corner to find—

“Catnip! What are you doing here?”

“Gale!” Sweat drips down her forehead and stings her eyes. Cringing, she swipes her hand across her face and tries not to cry. “Where are—? I thought you were playing basketball.”

He throws her a bewildered look and nods like she’s lost it a little. “We were.”

“You’re done?”

“Yeah? We’d been at it for a while. Are you… Have you been watching me?”

Katniss rolls her eyes, although that’s not really very fair. She had noticed him. It’s not like that’s not the case. “Who were you playing with? I saw Vic and Rory, but the blonde guys… Who, er, who were they?”

The expression on his face would be priceless if she weren’t so desperate to find out the information. He looks like he’s swallowed something very, very distasteful, and she tries hard not to snort with laughter.

��Why?”

She takes in his narrowed eyes and realizes she’s going to have to lie to get what she wants. Part of the reason they haven’t been as close since he left town is due to his sudden confessions of feelings toward her. She’d let him down easy, but things have been strained since then. There’s no need to rub that in his face when all she wants is to find out about Peeta. With a straight face and innocent eyes, she explains, “I think one of them door dinged my car a couple of weeks ago. The gym won’t give out membership information, but if you know who they are… Well, I’d be really grateful, Gale.”

He falls for it when she bats her eyelashes at him. She should feel terrible, but all’s fair in love and basketball. Of all people, Gale should want her to be happy, no matter if that means she’s interested in someone else or not. She’s no damsel in distress, unless she can’t pay for her groceries or something. However, her simpering works, and that’s really what she needs.

“Mellark is the last name. They all have bread names. It’s weird.”

She rolls the name around in her head for a bit. Peeta Mellark. It’s a nice solid name, and now she has more information to help her figure out how to find him. Almost giddy with victory, she stretches up on her tiptoes and kisses Gale’s cheek in gratitude. Backing away before he can reciprocate, she hears him as the distance widens between them.

“Do you want to grab dinner sometime? Maybe?”

“Sorry, Gale! Got to go. Really good to see you!”

With that, she turns her back and slips down the hall to the women’s locker room. She doesn’t bother to shower before grabbing her bag and heading to her car. She’s barely closed the door before she’s on her phone and typing in the name Peeta Mellark. She has a thank you to deliver.

****

Surprisingly, it’s not much easier to find him now that she knows his full name. She unveils a lot of information about his family, but not him. Apparently, they own a few local bakeries that she tries out and loves. Still, Peeta’s family is not the same thing as Peeta, who is remarkably absent from social media and with no online presence. She’s willing to admit, she got cocky, and now she can’t figure out how to recover from it.

“Where the hell is he?” she mutters as she comes up empty. Again.

Frustrated, she runs over all the data she’s gathered about him. He’s kind, compassionate, and thoughtful; all of those qualities were on display at the grocery store. He drinks tea and has a very good-looking friend who he talks to about numbers; that she learned at the coffee shop. He’s athletic and has two brothers he likes well enough to exercise with them; that information, and his last name, came from the gym. It should be enough to go on. It’s not.

She’s at home on her couch and paying bills when it suddenly hits her that she may never see this guy again. Peeta Mellark seems to be a figment of her imagination for all the good it’s done to try to find him. That and the small number in her bank account are both so unpleasant that she decides she’s going to have to break down and do something she’s been avoiding and delaying for a very long time. She’s going to have to open a line of credit. She’ll only use it for emergencies, but she can’t rely on the kindness of strangers to bail her out the next time she doesn’t have money for groceries, let alone car maintenance or an unforeseen medical crisis. It’s been months since Peeta saved her, but the humiliation of not being able to take care of herself still hasn’t faded. Before she can change her mind, she grabs her purse and heads to the bank. The time is now.

“Can I help you?” A bubbly blonde teller named Delly asks, and Katniss takes a deep breath to fortify herself.

“I’d like to open a line of credit. Can I talk to someone about that?”

“Sure!” she practically squeals. “Let me just call someone to help you.”

She’s led down the hallway and past a few desks to a small office. Once ushered inside, she sits and raises her eyes to view the person across from her.

“Oh…”

The man before her is stunning—green eyes, bronze hair, a swimmer’s build. It’s the guy’s—Peeta’s—friend, the one he was with at the coffee shop.

“Ms. Everdeen. I’m Finnick Odair. Want some sugar?” he asks and nudges a candy bowl toward her.

“No, I’m fi—.”

“Hey, Finn. Can you— Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were with a customer.”

She jerks at the sound of his voice. Peeta Mellark is standing in the doorway, and her heart is in her throat. She has a sudden flashback of the coffee shop, when the two of them walked past her discussing numbers… Now, it all makes sense. They work at a bank together. Of course they do. Peeta turns to leave, and she calls out.

“Wait! Stay with me.”

She claps her hands over her mouth and wills herself not to blush, but it’s no use. She’s just asked a perfect stranger to stay with her, and her invitation sounds much more intimate than she means it to. He must think she’s insane. Maybe she actually is. She pushes down a sudden urge to flee the situation and escape to the safety of her apartment.

This is out of her wheelhouse. Shy, introverted, and intensely private, Katniss worries the end of her braid and bites her lip. Every instinct she has tells her to run, but the temptation of him before her is too great. Rising, she crosses to him and holds out her hand.

“Hi. My name is Katniss. You saved my life once, and I’ve been on the hunt to find you for months. Thank you.”

Peeta and his friend exchange looks, and she fights the urge to shrivel back into herself. Finally, he looks directly at her and takes her palm in his. With a smile so disarming she nearly faints, he answers.

“Peeta Mellark. It’s nice to meet you.”

The touch of his hand on hers melts her insides. She dreads when she finally has to let go, but maybe she won’t have to. With a shy smile, she cocks out her hip and looks up at him through long lashes. Her flirting may be a disaster, but it’s all she’s got.

“It’s so nice to meet you, too.”

The flicker in his eyes makes her knees weak. An hour later, she’s left the bank with a line of credit, a phone number, and a dinner date. The hunt is finally over.

[impalas-r-important]

Branch Out - Chapter 1

Summary: Y/N left everything she's ever known, and Dean just wants to be left alone. With both of them trying to heal from heartache, they might just end up finding what they need in the last place they'd ever look.

Word count: 6219

Pairing: Dean x reader (eventually, maybe?)

Warnings: I don't think there are any for this chapter, but if you think i should add one, feel free to let me know!

A/N: I started this series a long time ago and just barely had the motivation to start it up again. I really love this series, and have been enjoying writing it. Let me know if you want a tag!

My Masterlist

Branch Out Masterlist

Thank heavens for GPS, there’s no way you would have found this place without step-by-step directions. A narrow gravel driveway branched off from the worn mountain road and wound to a homely cabin. You stepped out of your old pickup truck and pulled out the key the realtor had given to you. Buying a house sight unseen wasn’t the smartest idea and you second guessed your impulse decision as you took in the dense woods that were so foreign to you. The seasoned wooden boards of the porch creaked under your feet while you made your way to the door and let yourself into your new home. Dust rested gently on every ledge and the frigid January air was lined with a twinge of must from sitting unoccupied for so long, but something felt so promising about the sturdy structure.

A modest kitchen and living room made up most of the house with a bedroom and bathroom on either side of a small hallway. A small, metal woodburning fireplace sat just next to the backdoor and you had a feeling you would end up putting that to good use if you ever figured out how to use it.

Your hand was subconsciously touching the bruise that was prominent on your forearm and when you realized, you pulled your sleeve down to cover it. The decision to leave your family and friends behind was a heart-wrenching one, but you knew you had to make a change if you wanted to heal completely. You needed to do something for yourself, and you wanted a fresh start. A small cabin in the freezing cold woods of Idaho was about as far from what you knew to be normal as you could have gotten, but a seed of hope was planted firmly in your chest.

When a job posting for the assistant city accountant had fallen in your lap a few weeks back, you applied without thinking twice. A few online interviews later, you had secured the job and things fell into place effortlessly, as if some external force was paving your path to this small town. You bought this quaint home with the help of a local realtor, packed your things, and left the only home you had ever known in Arizona, despite the protests of your family. Not knowing what your future held was scary, but something about this place felt right from the moment you pulled in.

You had brought only what you needed to in hopes of making a quick escape, meaning you had only a mattress, some clothes and a few personal belongings. After working for a few years, you had a built up a good savings account and figured it would be easier to buy furniture once you got here instead of trying to move big pieces by yourself. It didn’t take long to move your things inside, and you felt grateful that you called ahead to have the power and water turned on so you could shower once you had unpacked what you needed for your first day on the job tomorrow. Anxiety sat like a rock in your stomach, so you skipped dinner and went straight to bed, burying yourself under a mountain of blankets to shield you from the winter chill that had settled in your bones.

Your nerves woke you up well before your alarm went off, so you dragged your feet across the frozen floor and pulled your clothes on quickly before digging through your boxes for some granola bars for breakfast. You leaned against the kitchen counter and began to make a list of things you would need to buy since you were essentially starting from scratch. Double checking the email that you had received with instructions for your first day, you took a deep breath and headed out.

City hall was a historic, two-story red brick building that was shared with the fire department. It looked like something out of a storybook, but then again, this whole town did. You pushed the door open and looked around at the empty lobby, checking your watch to make sure you weren’t crazy early. Rustic chairs lined the walls by the door, and a few empty desks were placed behind the tall front counter.

“Hello?” You asked, turning your head left and right to look for any signs of life.

“Oh!” A muffled voice responded, and distant footsteps quickly scuttled your way from the back room. “You’re here!” A pretty, dark haired girl gave a few excited claps as she made her way to you. “You must be Y/N. I’m Sarah. Sarah Blake.” She eagerly pulled you into a hug which caught you by surprise and she chuckled a bit to herself before taking a step back. “Sorry, my boyfriend says that my enthusiasm scares new people away. I’ve just been so excited since I heard they hired you. I’ve been praying for someone my age to come work around here for a long time.”

“Don’t apologize, you’re the first person I’ve met in town so it’s nice to see a friendly face.” Her warm welcome calmed some of your nerves.

“That’s right, you just moved in yesterday, huh?” You tiled your head in question, wondering how she knew that. “It’s a really small town, everyone knows everything, especially when it comes to new people. You’ve been the talk of the town the past little bit.” She shrugged. “Well, I’m the marketing/PR girl here, and we all just kind of pitch in with working the front desk. Come on back, let me give you the grand tour.”

Sarah led you around the corner and stopped at the first office on your left. “This is Ellen Singer’s office. You’ll be working under her, she’s the lead accountant.” She looked at the clock on the wall. “Hmm, she should be here by now. I bet her car is giving her trouble.”

A friendly voice called out to Sarah from down the hall and she motioned for you to follow her as she stepped just inside the end office which was significantly bigger than the rest.

“Y/N, this is Garth Fitzgerald, he’s the mayor. Garth, this is Y/N.” Sarah introduced you and he stood to shake your hand.

“It’s great to meet you, Mayor Fitzgerald.”

“Please, call me Garth.” You smiled and nodded. “We’ve been excited about you around here. I think you’ll make a great addition to our community.” His phone ringing broke the conversation. “Excuse me, ladies. Oh, and welcome to Wallace, Y/N!”

“Next up is Arthur Ketch, he’s the city planner. Sometimes he can be a little abrupt, but deep down he’s a big softie. Don’t let him scare you.”

He was on the phone, so he simply waved to you two as you passed. Sarah’s attention was drawn back down the hall when two police officers walked in. “Jody, Donna!” She hollered to them.

“Heya, kiddo! Who you got with you?” The blonde officer sent a warm smile your way.

“You must be Y/N!” The other responded.

“Oh, that’s right! I heard you were coming to town. I’m Donna and this is Sheriff Jody Mills. It’s so great to meet you.” She pulled you in for your second hug of the day.

“Everyone here is seriously so nice. I don’t know why I didn’t move here years ago!” You joked.

“Well listen, if you need anything, you can always come to me, okay?” Jody put her hand on your shoulder. “We’re all so excited to have a new face around.”

“Thank you. You’re all making this transition so much easier than I thought it would be.”

Sarah waved to the officers as they left and pulled gently on your arm. “Come on, let’s chat while we wait for Ellen.” She took a seat at one of the desks in the front and you sat across from her.

“Thanks for showing me around, it’s nice to know that I have a friend at work already.” Sarah’s eyes lit up when you called her your friend.

“Are you kidding me? I’ve been dying for you to get here. I knew we’d get along.” She folded her arms and sat back in her chair proudly. “So, where did you move from?”

“Phoenix, Arizona.”

“And you moved to Idaho in the middle of January? Are you crazy? I would give anything to go lay out in the sun for an afternoon.”

“Yeah, I might be!” You laughed. “I guess I just needed a change, you know? It was just time to move onto the next chapter of my life.”

“I get that. I grew up here and couldn’t wait to leave for college, but as soon as I was gone, I missed this place.”

“I can see what you’re talking about. It has a good feeling to it here.”

“So, now to the juicy stuff.” Sarah leaned forward. “Are you dating anyone? Because there’s a whole pool of eligible bachelors I could set you up with here.”

“No, actually I just got out of something kind of messy, so I don’t think I’m really looking for anything at the moment.”

A sympathetic look was sent you way. “I’m sorry to hear that. But if you ever feel ready, you let me know, okay?”

“You will be the first. What about you? I heard you mention you have a boyfriend. Tell me all about him.”

A smile spread across Sarah’s face and she pulled out her phone to show you a picture. “This is Sam, we’ve been together since high school.”

She handed you her phone and you looked at the tall, handsome guy whose arms were wrapped around her. “He’s cute, nice work!” She beamed as you handed her phone back. The expression on her face was clearly one of adoration as she looked at the picture.

“We actually broke up before we went to college. He went to Stanford and I went to the University of Oregon and we figured it would be easier to break it off on good terms rather than fade away in a long-distance relationship. That lasted about two weeks and we’ve been together ever since.”

“Do you think you’ll marry him? You guys are so stinking cute together.” You weren’t sure if you had ever seen a better fitting couple.

“I overheard Sam talking to his older brother about buying a ring. I don’t think he knew that I was just in the other room, but I’ll let him try to surprise me.” Sarah giggled. Your conversation was interrupted by someone walking in the back door.

“Hey, Ellen.” Sarah greeted. “Your reinforcement has arrived.”

Ellen looked at you with relief in her eyes. “Oh, honey, you have no idea how happy I am to see you. Come on back here and we’ll get started.”

“Have fun!” Sarah left you to meet your new boss as she went up to help someone at the front desk.

“Y/N, you’ll have to forgive me for being so late. My stupid car has been giving me hell the past few weeks. You’d think with my husband owning the only mechanic’s shop in town, I’d have a reliable vehicle, but here we are.”

“No worries. It gave me a chance to meet some people around the building. I’m excited to get started though.” You sat in the chair across from her desk and she plopped down with a sigh as well.

“I’ve been begging Garth for two years for some help, so you are a light at the end of my tunnel. I’m hoping to retire in a few years and hand you the reigns, so let’s get to it, shall we?”

The next few hours were spent introducing you to all of the systems and procedures. After receiving a call from her daughter, Ellen decided to call it a day just after three in the afternoon and the two of you agreed to hit it hard tomorrow. You gathered your things and returned to the front area where Sarah was scrolling through her phone. She looked up when you entered the room.

“Hey! How are things going?”

“Ellen has to take off, so we’re going to call it a day and just work a little longer tomorrow.” You sat at the desk adjoining Sarah’s and set your things down.

“Take any desk. It’s just you and me out here. Charlie is the county IT girl and works out here sometimes, but she hops from building to building.”

“Well, I suppose this one is as good as any.” You unpacked a picture frame and a few supplies at the desk across from Sarah’s. “Hey, are there any places to buy furniture around here? I only moved with the bare essentials so I’m in desperate need of a few things.”

“So, what you’re saying is you need to go on a shopping spree? I’m in! I’ll drive.” Sarah grabbed her purse and coat and led you out the door.

She took you on a short tour of the staples around town before arriving at the only big box store nearby. You browsed up and down the aisles, pulling all the necessities off the shelf and tossing them in the cart. You’d have to order some of the bigger furniture pieces online since it was a small place, and they didn’t have anything like here.

Sarah had a basket and was creating a good-sized stockpile of her own. “Sam has been trying to put me on a budget for a while now, so I’ll have to hide this stuff before he sees.” A guilty smile pulled on the corners of her mouth.

“Just tell him you were shopping with an accountant and I approved all your purchases.”

“Hah! We’re going to be good friends.” She picked up a candle, smelled it, and placed it in her basket.

“Where does Sam work?” You asked as you looked through the bathroom towels.

“He’s the lawyer for Winchester Lumber, the sawmill in town. A lot of people work there actually, it’s kind of the main business that brings people in. Sam’s great grandpa started it and it’s stayed in the family. Sam’s older brother, Dean, runs the place right now, but I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to hand the throne over to their Dad when he gets back. He got cancer a few years ago and they moved to Kansas to be closer to medical treatment.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. How is he doing?”

“He’s doing really well, actually. He’s in remission and they’re hoping to move back soon.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent checking things off of your to-do list and grabbing dinner with Sarah. She dropped you off back at your truck and you thanked her for showing you around before you went your separate ways.

Back at home, it took you a few trips to unload your haul, but you were just happy to have a few more things to fill your empty home. Your first day had gone better than you could have imagined, and you were filled with confidence in your decision to uproot your life.

Sarah opened her front door and did her best to sneak her shopping bags past Sam and Dean who were sitting in the living room, sharing a pizza and some beers. She successfully stowed her treasures away in the hall closet and joined the boys.

“Hey hon!” She placed a kiss on Sam’s forehead before grabbing a slice of pizza and plopping down on the couch next to him.

“You’re in a good mood.” Sam noticed his girlfriend’s chipper energy.

“I made a new friend today.” She took a big bite and gave a smile.

“Don’t you already know everyone in town?” Dean’s voice sounded as pessimistic as usual.

“No, actually. There’s a new accountant at city hall, Y/N. She just moved in yesterday.”

“That’s great! You’ll have to invite her over sometime.” Sam placed his hand lovingly on Sarah’s knee. “Where’s she living?”

“She bought a cabin up in the mountains sight unseen, so we went shopping for some essentials. I think she might be kind of close to you, Dean.”

Dean frowned, trying to think of which cabin the new girl would have bought. He moved up there to be alone, so the thought of a neighbor was disheartening. “You mean that old shack just off of Placer Creek Road?”

“Yeah, I think that’s the one.”

“She’s got a lot of repair work to do on that place.” Dean shook his head, glad that it wasn’t him that put any kind of investment into what he was sure was a money pit.

You awoke early the next morning to find that it had snowed overnight. Growing up in Arizona, you had never really experienced snow like this before. Every breath you took felt like your lungs were filling with ice and you couldn’t help but cough, willing the warm weather to find you soon. Winter was one thing you didn’t think about when moving to a mountain town, so you wanted to give yourself plenty of time for the commute. After packing a few things for lunch, you stepped outside to find your truck buried in a mountain of frozen powder.

“Ugh!” You groaned and threw your head back, looking around for a stick to help you dig out your vehicle. You made a mental note to buy a scraper after work. Ten minutes and one soaked pair of shoes later, you had finally freed your car. You twisted the key, forcing the engine to sluggishly turned over, then blasted the heat on high while you ran inside to change into dry shoes and socks before taking off down the road.

The feeling of your back wheels slipping around on the frozen dirt road was so foreign to you, and you weren’t a fan. About two miles away from the main road, your engine began to sputter as it struggled to trudge ahead through the wet snow.

“Please don’t do this to me…” You steered towards the side of the road as much as you could while the truck wound down to a full stop. An annoyed sigh escaped from your lips. “Great.” You turned the car off and then back on, willing it to start up again, but the clicks of defeat that sounded from under the hood dashed your hopes.

You hadn’t had the time to buy a heavy winter coat yet, so you zipped up the light jacket that you had on and began walking. You didn’t want to make a bad impression on your second day of work by calling in sick, so you picked up your head and kept going. One of the points of starting your new journey was to be more self-reliant, and this definitely fell under that category. Ten minutes had passed, and your toes were so cold that you were sure they would snap off and rattle around in your shoes at any point now. The sound of an engine coming down the hill made you look over your shoulder to see a snowmobile barreling around the corner and straight towards you. You quickly side-stepped out of the way, but not enough to avoid the kickback of snow that was thrown into your face as the machine drove past.

“Seriously?!” You yelled as you shook the snow from your clothes. The snowmobile stopped and slowly backed up to meet you.

“What are you doing up here?” The man abruptly asked as he pulled off his helmet. If you weren’t so annoyed and cold, you might have thought he was attractive.

“Being buried alive by some maniac speeding down the mountain.” You retorted and brushed the snow from your hair with your fingers.

“I’m going to assume that’s your truck back there?”

“Lucky guess.” The wind-chill blew through your jacket and you crossed your arms. “I don’t think it likes the cold, and I don’t exactly blame it.”

His eyes assessed you. “Crappy shoes, thin jacket, and no gloves. I’m going to assume that makes you the clueless new girl.”

“What an ass...” You thought to yourself.

“I guess it does, Kowalski.”

“Kowalski? Really?”

You were surprised he got your reference to Clint Eastwood’s infamously crotchety main character.

“If you’ll excuse me, I gotta get to work.” You didn’t find much point in continuing on this conversation with such a smug jerk, so you continued on your path down the road and heard the snowmobile make a sharp u turn to climb back up the trail.

Ten more minutes later, you could see the main road just ahead of you had been plowed, and you were thankful that you wouldn’t have to be hiking through any more ankle-deep build-up. You could hear a vehicle slowly coming up behind you and you made sure to move as far over as you could to avoid being blasted with snow again. The truck slowed to a stop next to you and you looked over to see the same man from earlier rolling the passenger side window down.

“Get in, I’ll give you a ride.” His voice still sported an undertone of condescension and he rolled his eyes when a doubtful frown from you was sent towards him. “Just get in.”

Hundreds of episodes of Dateline should have taught you to not get in a car with some stranger, but you figured that even if he didn’t murder you, you’d end up dying of frostbite and decided to you’d rather die inside a warm truck. You opened the door and took off your damp jacket before getting inside.

The man’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel tight. You placed your hand by the heater on the dashboard in hopes of defrosting your fingers enough to feel them again.

“You shouldn’t drive a pickup in the winter.” His gaze stayed firmly glued on the road ahead.

“Uhm…” You dramatically looked around, “aren’t we in a pickup right now?”

“Yeah, a pickup with chains on the tires and a weighed down bed.”

“Well, I’m still pretty new at this whole snow thing…”

The man glanced at you from the corner of his eyes. “I couldn’t tell. You’re Y/N, aren’t you?”

“Should I be concerned that you know my name?” You raised an eyebrow.

“No, no,” he must have realized how creepy that came off, “I know Sarah. She’s dating my younger brother and she was telling us about you last night.”

“Oh, it all makes sense now. You’re the grumpy older brother. Dean, right?”

Another eyeroll made an appearance, but you could tell he wasn’t going to make any further comments.

“Well, I appreciate the ride. I’m sorry if I screwed up your morning routine.”

“It’s no big deal.”

It wasn’t hard to tell that Dean wasn’t a man of many words, and you were okay with that. You weren’t really one for small talk either. Dean’s eyes moved to your arm that was extended towards the vent blowing heat.

“That’s a gnarly bruise. How’d you manage that?”

You pulled your arm back quickly, hoping that your sudden move didn’t come across as suspicious. “Oh, you know, just being a clutz. They never tell you that moving by yourself is a dangerous game.” You chuckled casually while watching his eyebrows knit together ever so slightly as he glanced at the bruise one more time. No further remarks were made so you assumed he bought your story.

Dean pulled up in front of City Hall and stopped as close to the door as he could get. Before you could reach for the door handle, Dean instructed, “give me your keys.”

“What?” Your face twisted in confusion.

Yet another fed-up sigh escaped from his chest. “Bobby Singer down at the auto shop owes me a favor. I’ll get him to tow your truck down and take a look at it.”

“Oh.” you weren’t expecting such a generous gesture from such a grumpy guy. “I don’t want to put you out any more than I already have.”

“Hand it over.” The tone in his voice remained gruff, but the bluntness was slightly faded at this point. You reached into your pocket and pulled out your key ring, sliding the truck key off and placing it into Dean’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Dean’s eyes avoided yours and you took the hint that it was time to leave.

The wind blew flurries in the air, forcing you to quickly sprint to the door, meaning that you missed Dean watching you with curiosity. Sarah, who was observing from the front desk, didn’t miss his wondering stare. He quickly averted his eyes when he saw her spying and peeled away.

“Kowalski.” He muttered to himself with a half-entertained chuckle once he was a few blocks away. Dean would have never admitted it, but he quite enjoyed the witty nickname.

Sarah couldn’t stop the mischievous smirk that crept up on her face and leaned on the counter to greet you the second you stepped through the door.

“You look like you’ve had quite the morning.” She greeted.

“Yeah, something like that.” You hung your jacket up on the coat rack in the corner to dry and stomped the packed snow from the tread of your shoes.

“Am I going blind or did Dean Winchester give you a ride to work?” She quickly cornered you.

“Yeah. My truck broke down and then he tried to bury me in snow, so he gave me a ride.” Goosebumps covered your arms as you made your way to your desk. You had never been more grateful for heat.

Sarah crossed her arms and sat on your desk as you took your seat. “You know, people call him the Grinch because he moved way up the mountain to be all broody and alone.”

“I can’t say I don’t understand it. It’s kinda fitting.” You logged into your computer, but Sarah continued to press for details.

“Well did he say anything on the ride over or did he just glare at the road?”

“A little bit of both I guess. He told me I shouldn’t be driving a truck in the winter, but that’s about it.”

Ellen arrived and cut the chatter short. “Hey girls. You ready to get started, Y/N?”

“You bet.” You stood from your desk, but not before Sarah pointed an accusing finger at you.

“This conversation is not over!” She warned.

After lunch, Ellen had given you some expense reports to review and organize. It was tedious, but you didn’t mind the slow afternoon after a crazy morning. Sarah was helping you to punch holes in the stacks of papers and organize them into departments while the two of you chatted away. The snow had kept most people inside, so it was a slow day at the front desk. Just before it was time to call it a day, the bell of the front door dinged, and Sarah walked over to see who it was.

“Hey, Dean. You going over to Benny’s tonight?” She greeted.

“Not sure yet.”

Dean’s hands were shoved into his front pockets as he stared Sarah down, not wanting to give her any more room to speculate as to why he was here.

“Hi.” You smiled softly, trying your hardest ignore Sarah’s curious stare as you joined in the conversation.

He pulled a key from his pocket and set it down on the counter. “She’s all fixed up. Battery terminals were corroded so I cleaned them up a bit, but you’re going to need a new battery soon. That one doesn’t have much juice left in it.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize that you worked at the auto shop.” You remembered Sarah saying something about Dean working at the sawmill.

“No, I used to. But I figured it would be an easy fix, so I took a look myself. I stuck some old grates in the bed for some weight. Take it into Bobby’s tomorrow after work and he’ll take care of the rest. He knows you’re coming.”

“Wow, I really owe you one. Thank you.” You slid the key from off the counter and fiddled with the metal ring.

“Don’t read into it.” Dean tapped his fist on the counter twice before swiftly leaving.

Sarah was biting her lip, and you slowly turned your head towards her. “Spit it out.” You gave permission for her onslaught of questions.

“You didn’t tell me he was going to fix your car for you!”

“He said he would have Bobby tow it back to the shop and take a look at it. I didn’t know he was going to fix it himself.”

“I’ve known Dean for a long time, he’s pretty much my older brother at this point, so I can see past all the grumpiness. He’s a really good guy, he’s just been dealt a hard hand the past few years that made him swear off people.”

That was a feeling you could easily relate to. “He really went out of his way to bail me out today, so he can’t be all that bad.”

“He’s all bark and no bite. Granted, it’s a big bark.” Sarah checked her watch. “Closing time! Hey, would you want to come back to my place after we clock out? Sam’s playing poker at a buddy’s house tonight so I figured maybe we could grab some take out and find some furniture for you online?”

“Yeah, that’d be great actually! It definitely beats the PB and J I would be making otherwise.”

After work, you ran home to change and Sarah stopped for some Chinese food, then the two of you met at her apartment.

Some crappy TV movie played in the background while mostly empty take-out containers littered the kitchen counter. You were sitting on the floor with your laptop on the coffee table, browsing through loveseats while Sarah lay on the couch behind you giving her input.

The door gently swung open and the man you assumed to be Sam walked through. Sarah stood up and stretched before giving her boyfriend a hug.

“How was the poker game?”

Sam tossed his keys on the counter and pulled off his jacket. “About the same as always. Benny won most of the games, Cas still has no clue what he’s doing, and I lost a little too much pride.”

“You’ll get them one of these days. Come on,” she tugged on his shirt sleeve, “I want you to meet Y/N.”

You stood when Sam and Sarah walked into the room. “Y/N, this is Sam.”

“Ah, the infamous Y/N, I’ve heard lots about you the past day or so. It’s nice to put a face with the name.” He shook your hand. “How are you settling in?”

“Honestly, the move has been a lot easier than I thought it would be. Everyone here has been super welcoming and helpful.”

“Including Dean.” Sarah gave a knowing look to her boyfriend, who was clearly confused.

“My brother, Dean?”

“The one and only. He gave Y/N a ride to work and fixed her truck up for her.”

Sam’s face read skeptical. “My brother, Dean?” He repeated.

“I found myself knee deep in snow and car problems this morning. I’m sure he helped me out of pity more than anything.” You tried to explain, not wanting to make a big deal of the situation.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “Wow. I guess that’s why he was late to work today. Well, I hope he didn’t scare you off too much.”

You shook your head with a smile. “Not at all, he really helped me out. But I have to admit, I feel bad. He would barely acknowledge my thank yous. I don’t want to come across as ungrateful.”

“Yeah, that sounds like him. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure he heard you loud and clear, he’s just hasn’t been properly socialized yet.”

Sam finished off the rest of the Chinese and got to know you a little better while Sarah sat next to you on the floor, scrolling through furniture.

“Where’d you go to school, Y/N?” Sam stacked the empty red food containers together and set them aside as he pulled his feet up on the couch.

“University of Arizona. I didn’t originally plan on staying so close to home, but a full ride soccer scholarship is hard to turn down.”

“No way! That’s awesome.” Sam’s face lit up with an idea. “Oh! Every summer we do this obstacle course race thing here in town as part of the summer festival. Maybe you can be on our team this year?”

“That sounds super fun! Count me in.”

“Yes!”’ Sam made a fist in the air. “We’ve used to win every year, but we’ve come in second the past three times, so maybe you’ll be our secret weapon.”

Sarah joined the conversation once she’d had her fill of online shopping. “I was thinking, Y/N, I don’t know if you’re much of a baker, but if you wanted to say thank you to Dean, he’s a sucker for a good pie. I know he wouldn’t just brush that off.”

“It’s true. He’s a pie whore.” Sam nodded.

“Sam!” Sarah scolded.

“Noted,” you said through your laughs.

The clock in the corner of your laptop screen caught your eye and you realized how late it was getting. “I should probably start heading home before I hate myself tomorrow at work.”

“At least it’s not supposed to snow tonight.” Sarah teased.

“Wow, it’s going to be like that, huh?! It’s a learning curve, okay?” You stuck your tongue out as you gathered your things.

Sam stopped you after Sarah had said goodbye. “Hey, Y/N, I know Dean doesn’t make the greatest first impression, but do me a favor and don’t write him off just yet. He’s had a rough go the past little while and could always use another friend in his corner.”

“I won’t. I’m sure there’s a great guy buried under all that angst.” You gave a reassuring smile and Sam gave you a hug before you left.

The next day was Friday and between training and helping out with the front desk, the workday flew by. You needed to take your truck in to get the battery switched and Sarah had agreed to give you rides while you were without transportation. After work, you dropped off your truck at Bobby’s, and Sarah took you home. You were glad for a little time to yourself so you could clean up the house before the first delivery of furniture tomorrow morning.

On your lunch break earlier that day, you had gotten all the ingredients to make blueberry pie bars as a thank you for Dean. Time was in short supply, so you hoped these would be a suitable place holder in lieu of a regular pie. You quickly threw them together and loaded up a plate once they were cool enough. Baking had always been a stress reliever for you, and the way it filled your small cabin with warmth and sweet smells felt so cozy and charming.

Dean’s place was only a ten-minute walk from yours, so you bundled up and began your hike. You had finally gotten yourself a suitable coat and boots and couldn’t believe the difference they made as you crunched through the snow that was matted on the gravel road. His cabin was much newer than yours, and considerably nicer. A long staircase on the right side of the house led up to a wide porch. Smoke spilling from the chimney and lights beaming through the windows told you he was probably home, so you knocked on the door.

Clattering of locks being undone broke through the silence a few moments later and an expressionless Dean opened the door.

“Hi,” you began, “I just wanted to say thank you for helping me out so much the other day.” Dean stood silent and stone-faced, so you awkwardly continued. “I, uh, heard you were a big fan of pie, but I didn’t have enough time to make one from scratch, so I hope these will do.” You extended the plate of goodies and he looked at them doubtfully.

“Look,” a gravelly voice ended his vow of silence, “I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, but I’m not looking for any new friends or whatever this is.” He began to shut his door when you interjected.

“Listen, this is nothing more than a simple thank you for bailing me out when I really needed it. I’m not going to force you to eat them, but I’m also not going to take them home with me. Maybe just wait until I’m gone before you throw them away though.” You set the plate on a neatly stacked pile of firewood off to the side of the door. “Don’t read into it.” You echoed his parting words from yesterday and took your leave. A sneaky glance over your shoulder as you walked away revealed that Dean had picked up the plate and was looking at it with a half-impressed nod. You assumed that was as much of a reaction as you’d get from him and marked the trip to be successful.

Chapter 2

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Kakashi Week- Day 2: Hatake Legacy/Au

My Father's Son

Words: 2662

AU: Mafia Au

@kakashiweek

Warnings: Mentions of Blood, Mention of Sakumo's Death

Every time there was someone in need of rescuing from the precinct, without fail, Shikaku sent Kakashi. Even though he had an entire gang full of people that he could use, he always chose to send Kakashi.

Whether it was because Kakashi was able to make even the most seasoned cop tremble at the mere sight of him, or because he was somehow also able to smooth talk his way out of any sort of trouble he was faced with, he wasn’t quite sure. If he had an answer, he’d do something to fix it. To get Shikaku to send someone else, anyone else.

Just not him.

Climbing off of his motorcycle, he headed straight for the police station. As he made his way up the stairs, police officers who had been chatting to each other while watching him from afar scrambled to get out of his way. Desperate to put as much distance between them and Shikaku’s ‘Scarecrow’.

It was these moments that made these stupid little trips worth it. Seeing just how his reputation had bled into every corner of the city, and straight into the souls of cops. The people who would usually stand tall and proud, confident in their freedom to do as they please with the law supporting their actions.

“Pathetic,” he huffed, using his shoulder to shove the door open and stepping into a building that was all too familiar to him. Not just because of all the visits he had made in the past two years to pick up those unfortunate members of Shikaku’s gang who had been picked up by the cops. Sometimes because they had actually done something wrong, and sometimes just because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It was his job to find out which one it was today. If he had to drag an idiot out of there and scold them for getting caught, or if he was going to have to argue with a cop or two about why they actually weren’t allowed to just arrest someone and throw them into a cell for existing in a public space.

“Look who’s back,” A familiar redhead moved in front of him, her finger poking deep into his chest as she looked at him through the motorcycle helmet that he still wore. “You know the rules. No helmets on when you’re in the building.”

Swatting her hand away, Kakashi huffed. “And you know that I’m not taking it off,” he reminded her. “Can we stop wasting time, Kushina-San? You know I’m here to pick up the man you whisked off of the street in front of the coffee shop on 156th. I’d appreciate if we skipped the argument today and you just handed him over.”

“Mmm, sorry Can’t do that,” Crossing her arms over her chest, Kushina smirked up at him. “See, we actually have evidence on this one. His fingerprints were all over the knife we found at a crime scene a few days ago and…”

“Do you have enough proof for a conviction?”

“I…what?”

“You heard the question,” matching her stance, Kakashi watched as she narrowed her eyes. “Do you have enough proof for a conviction? If not, then you might as well release him. We all know you’re not going to find the proof.”

Kushina opened her mouth for a rebuttal, but before she could get a single word out a hand came down on her shoulder. Pulling both of their attention to the smiling blond now standing at her side. “Now, I think that’s a rather unfair assumption, but it doesn’t matter,” Minato responded with his usual cool demeanour. An attitude fitting a Police chief. “We can’t just release a suspect to you because you walk in here looking intimidating, Scarecrow-san.”

It was always interesting hearing the ‘San’ after his nickname. Like the Chief of Police was trying to show him some respect, even knowing that he was a member of Shikaku’s gang and a feared name among other gangs.

“And why can’t you?” he asked, dropping his hands to his side and resting the right hand on his hip. “If you have solid evidence against him, I’ll just bring him back.”

“And you think that’s enough?” Minato chuckled. “The word of a man that half of my officers would love to see behind bars?”

“Are you saying that you don’t trust me, Minato-san? I’m hurt. I thought we were starting to build a trusting, open relationship,” The sarcasm is so thick that he’s pretty sure even the dumbest cop in the room could hear it. “What if I give you my word? If you can actually produce evidence to prove he did something wrong, I’ll bring him back myself.”

After all, what use was a person if they weren’t careful enough to clean up after themselves? If what Kushina was saying was true, the bastard was already in trouble for leaving behind a knife with his prints. There’s no way that Yamato approved him for the big jobs before making sure he learned not to be a careless idiot.

“Again, that’s just words,” Minato sighed. “I have no proof that you’ll keep your word. For all I know, you’ll get him out of here and immediately transfer him far away so that we never see him again.”

Proof. That was a hard thing to come up with on the spot, and there was no doubt that Minato knew that. That he was counting on his failure to produce the kind of proof that would work for him. Something that would actually give him even the tiniest bit of trust in the man standing in front of him.

Glancing over the Police Chief's shoulder, Kakashi focused on the wall on the other side of the room. There, for everyone to see, a fine selection of pictures on display. Past chiefs that had done their duty and retired. Spending the rest of their days in a comfy home with family surrounding them until they finally died of old age. Each of them dressed up in their best uniform with a smile on their face and a proud look in their eyes.

Though there was one picture that stood out among them all.

It didn’t stand out because of the way the Police Chief looked in the picture. For any random passerby, he was the same as every other picture on the wall. A proud man doing his duty, protecting the city that he loved so much.

Behind the smile though, there was a story that only a few knew. One of a life cut short with bullets and blood. Of a child standing over his father’s body, blood staining his tiny fingers as he cried for help.

A story that was known among the officers of this station. Whispered among each other as they stared upon the child sitting outside of his father’s office waiting for someone to come pick him up. To claim guardianship over a boy who had lost everything, and had no one.

“I have proof,” he spoke softly, his hand leaving his hip and coming up to undo the buckle under his helmet. The room around him suddenly went quiet, all eyes turning towards him as he undid the buckle. Even Kushina had her full attention on him now, eyes wide as she watched him grab the underside of his helmet.

As he pulled the helmet off, his hair fell free. The long silver ponytail falling against his back was met with gasps, and as the helmet slides off he can feel the tension in the air. Thick enough that he’s certain he could cut it if he felt the urge.

“S-scarecrow…” Opening his eyes, he met Minato’s gaze. A soft smile on his face that looked nothing like the one in the picture. A smile he had been told many times growing up resembled his mother more than anyone. “I-“

“I think you know that’s the wrong name,” He offered, sunken eyes focused on the police chief. “Though, I guess you wouldn’t know any better, hmm?”

Scanning the room, he focused on one of the many cops that had been so afraid of him moments ago. Watching him with cautious eyes as he made his way into the station, and never letting him out of his sight.

“Ahhh, you’ll know it,” he smiled at the older man, chuckling when his words were met with stuttered confusion. “Come on, don’t tell me you forgot. It hasn’t been that long, has it?”

Twenty years. It would make sense if they had forgotten his name, it wasn’t like they had ever cared to remember it even when he made daily trips to the station before his father took him to his school. Most of them would simply pat his head and smile down at him, perhaps offering him a cup of water or a treat while he waited outside of the office while his father quickly sorted out his day.

“K-Kakashi.”

He was actually surprised to hear his name being spoken. Not just because someone managed to remember it, but because of who it was who had spoken it. Out of everyone in the room, he didn’t expect to hear his name from Kushina of all people.

“Kushina, how…”

Taking a step back, Kushina narrowed her eyes. Taking a moment to examine the silver-haired man standing in front of her. Almost as if she didn’t believe that he was real. “When we first started here people always talked about Chief Sakumo and his son,” she explained. “I heard so much about them that I got curious and decided to check out his old files. It didn’t take long to find information on the Chief’s death.”

Rolling his shoulders, Kakashi tried to force himself not to clench his jaw. To keep that same relaxed appearance he always had when he was in front of people. The last thing he wanted to do was show weakness.

To allow anyone in the room to know just how much it hurt, being reminded of his father’s end.

“You were listed as missing, presumed dead,” she growled. “You vanished from foster care when you were twelve.”

“I got bored,” he stated. “There was nothing interesting going on in that place, and the schools weren’t any better. What was I supposed to do? Hang around and become a cop like you?” his mouth burned when he spoke. Anger boiling inside of him. “I wasn’t going to sit around and wait to become another body on the floor.”

“And you think this is the escape you need from that?” Kushina bit back, taking a step forward and poking him in the chest. “You think that this is the life your old man would want for you?”

“Don’t-“

“Afraid of the truth?” She growled, swatting Minato’s hand away when he tried to grab her shoulder. “Scared to face the fact that you turned into the exact type of person your father would be ashamed of? The type of person who made him a body on the floor!?”

Calm shattered.

For the first time in years, Kakashi felt the anger he worked so hard to keep hidden deep inside of himself boiling over. Breaking through the calm facade that the ‘Scarecrow’ was so well known for.

Now wasn’t the time for anger though. The last thing he wanted to do was give Kushina and Minato a reason to put him behind bars. He had worked too hard to get where he was. Struggled and fought too much for his anger to be his downfall.

Taking a step back, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

One

The memories flooded his mind. His father’s smile, the way he’d put a hand in his hair and mess it up, the sound of his laughter. Memories Kakashi had tried so hard to bury. The ones that were better to forget.

Two

His heart beat slowed. Returning to a steady pace and easing the pain in his chest caused by the vibe grip that was his anger.

Three

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks,” He spoke calmly, opening his eyes to meet Kushina’s gaze. The anger still boiling deep inside of him. Fighting to get out even as he tried to push it back down into hiding. “He’s not here.”

Four

“You can’t seriously-“

“Kushina.”

` Five

Finally the anger gave in, allowing him to shove it back into that small corner of his soul where it always sat, waiting for him to find a quiet deserted place to let it out.

“What my father would have wanted for me holds no weight over my life,” he continued. “He’s dead. He has been dead since I was a kid, and if anyone in this room had wanted me to have a different path perhaps they would have done something about it themselves.”

Eyes darting around the room, he watched as every single cop diverted their gaze away from him. Shame evident in all of their eyes.

“Now, I believe the issue we were talking about was my trustworthiness,” he continued, finally meeting Minato’s gaze once again. “You said you needed proof that I would keep my word. Do you have that proof now?”

Bright blue eyes stared at him, only breaking eye contact long enough to flick back towards the picture of Hatake Sakumo hanging on the wall before returning. “Alright.”

“What!?” Kushina spun around to face Minato, her eyes wide with surprise. “You can’t be serious. Minato if he leaves we’ll never see him again!”

Sighing, Kakashi directed his attention back to the red-head. “I told you, didn’t I? If you find any substantial evidence against him, I’ll bring him back myself.”

“There’s no reason we have to trust you,” She snapped. “You’re a thug, Scarecrow.”

Hearing his nickname being used once again, Kakashi sighed.

“I am also the Son of Hatake Sakumo,” he stated firmly. “Regardless of what you think of me, that fact will always stand above all others. And as much as I hate every single coward in this room-“ murmured protests filled the station. Words of anger and aggravation spoken just low enough that Kakashi could barely make them out. “I will never disrespect my father so much as to lie to the person who took his job.”

Kushina’s mouth hung open, no words leaving her lips for the first time since he had walked through the door. For once, Kakashi had managed to stun her into silence, and the feeling that came from that knowledge was beautiful.

When all was said and done, he was going to enjoy bugging her about this moment for years to come.

“Fine,” straightening herself up, she met Kakashi’s eye. “I’ll hold you to that.”

A challenge. He could handle that.

“You know how to get hold of me if you do end up finding anything, right?” Watching as Minato signalled to one of the other cops, Kakashi allowed his eyes to wander over. Lingering on the officer as he made his way towards the back where all of the cells were. “Of course, if you’re having trouble contacting me you can always stop at my favourite Coffee shop. I could always do with a free cup while you’re proving his guilt to me.”

As if the last five minutes didn’t exist, vanishing into distant memory, Kushina squared off on him once again and started arguing about ‘not buying gang members coffee’ and ‘having better things to do’

Statements that Kakashi knew were bold-faced lies. Kushina would buy him a coffee even while complaining about him being a cheap bastard and saying she had better things to spend her money on, and as much as she refused to admit it she would love every second of it.

Because if Kushina didn’t have him to challenge her, she’d be bored. They both knew that even if they would never say it out loud.

[flying-guinea-pig]

Not What He Seems (ch.1)

(Prefer to read this on AO3?)

(It’s happening folks. The big reveal, four years in the making.)

NotWhat He Seems: Chapter 1

Thomas' heart always beat a little faster when he summoned something, even after several years in this job. It was the thrill of calling a powerful being into this reality with only your wits and some chalk lines as protection.

Beëlzebob was an intermediate-level demon. He took the appearance of every cliché devil ever - hairy black goat legs, a ridiculously buff and gleaming red upper body, large curled horns. The works.

He was also not cooperating at all.

"You are... di̵s̢tra͢c̢te͜d," the demon whispered, his voice echoing back strangely from the corners of the summoning lab. The shadows seemed to thicken.

Thomas kept his face impassive. These were just some special effects, after all. His binding circle was perfect, he didn't need to worry.

"I have outlined our offer in this document. These are the terms you have previously discussed at length with my colleague," he said, reaching out slightly to hand Beëlzebob the carefully rolled up contract. "All should be in order."

The demon unrolled it and took his sweet time reading it through. He would make a good addition to the safe summons list, despite being a bit higher level than their usual choices. This old-fashioned approach, with the written contract and all - it would teach the students to be patient and give them time to focus on the details before shaking on anything.

"Yes," the demon said, dragging a black claw over the parchment. "These terms are acceptable. However, there is one issue."

"Is there?"

A horrible, fanged grin. "The contract must be written in your o̦̰͚w̮̮n̬͇̹̕ blood, mortal."

Maybe it was his experience with grandstanding demons, or Tyrone had been rubbing off on him, but Thomas was not impressed. "That wasn't in the agreement."

"You will rewrite it. Ḩè̲̙͙̩̤r̦e̹̦ ͏͕̥a̝̱̺͟n̘͔d ̛̦̱̲̖n̩͈̪o̰̻͓͓͢w̺͍͎̦.̪̣͇̩́"

"No, I don't think so," Thomas said, mildly. Seriously? All that work was just wasted? Typical. He was not going to use his own blood to write it, sheesh. With all those clauses and addendums the thing was way too long. Not to mention willingly given human blood had power - power that wasn't a part of this offer.

The shadows twisted - the candles flared. "You will, little mortal, or I will step over this boundary and write it myself, straight from your veins."

"This attitude is not convincing me you're a good fit for our list."

"You have summoned me and I will not leave without my deal!" Red-tinged smoke filled the circle, edging over the chalk lines and spreading into the room. It stank of sulphur and decay.

Thomas coughed. Dramatics aside, maybe it was time to get rid of Beëlzebob. Too bad, Hicks would be disappointed to cross off another name on the safe summons list… It had shrunk a lot in the past years. If this kept up their students would soon only get to summon the Organ Duck. If they couldn’t offer a proper practical education they might eventually run out of interested students as well, which was bad news for the survival of the demonology department.

"Whoa, did someone drop a rotten egg in here?"

Tyrone usually didn't barge in during summonings, especially when they were trying to get more demons for the safe summons list, but this time Thomas didn't mind. The open door let in some fresh air and that was very welcome at the moment.

Tyrone entered the room, waving away some of the smoke. "Hey, Hicks mentioned you wanted to have a talk?"

"What? Oh, yeah," Thomas said, distracted. The smoke was dissipating with record speed and Beëlzebob was visible again, staring at Tyrone in abject terror. "I'm a bit busy right now though."

"Do you need any help?" Tyrone offered. His smile was perfectly friendly.

Thomas glanced at Beëlzebob. "As a matter of fact, he was just leaving."

"Yes! Yes indeed," the demon hurried to say. "Just leaving. Right now. I’m going. Big misunderstanding, you know how it is, have to be somewhere else, goodbye now!"

“Thanks buddy," Tyrone said. "Very accommodating of you, leaving without a deal like that. I will remember this. Here, have a snack."

With a snap of his fingers a familiar deep-fried ball appeared, partly wrapped in a festive paper towel.

Beëlzebob caught it with a flinch and popped away without another sound.

“So, what exactly did you want to talk about?”

“Just a second, let me clean up first.” He frowned at Tyrone. “Speaking of cleaning up, what happened to your shirt?”

“What?” Tyrone glanced down at the brown stains on his usually so crisp white shirt, and made a face. “Aw man, seriously?”

“Do I want to know?”

“I bumped into Banerjee on my way here. He was carrying samples. And he didn’t even apologize, can you believe it?”

Banerjee was the Cryptozoology department’s newest hire, working on his doctorate involving – honestly, Thomas had no idea, he just knew it involved a lot of mud. He wasn’t aware of Tyrone’s true identity. The university staff tried to keep that one under wraps. Parents might object to their children coming to a university where Alcor the Dreambender was frequently hanging around.

“He owes me a new shirt.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “You can literally make it brand new with a thought.”

“He doesn’t know that. It’s about the principle of the thing.”

Shaking his head, Thomas set to work. To his students it often came as a surprise that practical demonology involved a lot of cleaning up. The preparations were extensive, of course, but afterwards someone had to put away the candles and mop up the chalk, blood, and other assorted fluids the demons occasionally left behind. Beëlzebob in particular had left footprints of some kind of sulphurous ooze that he probably shouldn’t handle without gloves…

Safely removing summoning circles was an art, really. It’s not like you could just start scrubbing away with these things – the outer part was usually the binding circle, and you never knew if the demon was still hanging around, invisible, waiting for you to make a mistake. Not that he expected something to happen while Alcor the Dreambender was literally waiting at the door, but proper caution was a good habit to have.

“You know, I could clean this up for you with a snap of my fingers,” Tyrone mused, lounging against the wall while he waited. His shirt held no trace of the brown stains.

“Are you offering?”

“For free?”

Thomas snickered at the almost scandalous look on Tyrone’s face. Put down his cleaning supplies. He had planned to do this differently, but you know what? Now might be as good a time as ever. And it would be fun, wouldn’t it, to put Tyrone off-balance for a moment? “How about a deal then?”

Tyrone perked up.

“You get this room back to its cleaned-up, usable state,” said Thomas, and felt the smile break through on his face. “In return, you get to be my best man.”

To his credit, it didn’t take Tyrone long to realise. “Thomas! You finally popped the question then?”

“Yep. I said I was going to do it soon, this can’t be a surprise –“

“And she said yes?”

“We did talk about it beforehand, you know –“

“Congrats!”

“Thanks,” Thomas grinned. “So, what do you say? Fair warning though, being my best man comes with certain responsibilities. Making sure I’m on time at the wedding and such.”

Organising the stag night as well, technically. Though Thomas suspected Brad already had some thoughts in that direction.

“I’ve been someone’s best man before, I know how it goes,” Tyrone said. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Thomas.”

The room around them shifted, the magical arrays fading away and taking the trailing odour of brimstone with them.

Tyrone’s expression shifted too, as he let go of Thomas’ hand.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked.

“Nothing.”

“You seem upset?”

“I am happy for you,” Tyrone said. “It’s just… you’re getting old.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“No, I mean – look at you! Getting married. Maybe kids and a house, soon.”

“I’m not buying a house on a teacher’s salary,” Thomas said. “The rest… who knows? We’ll see how it goes. Is that what’s upsetting you? That I’m growing up?”

Tyrone shrugged awkwardly. He seemed smaller somehow. “You’re going to be very busy with all that – that life stuff. It’s happening already. Everyone is so busy. Your dates with Elisha, Eddy’s got his new job, Brad’s mucking around in his dad’s company - when was the last time we all hung out, just for fun? Not because it was someone’s birthday or anything? It’s been ages since we had a game night.”

That… had been a while, true. “I guess that’s what happens when you get older. There are more demands on your time, you get to juggle more responsibilities.”

“I’m not getting older.”

“Right.” Thomas took a deep breath.  “Listen, so… we’re busy more often. And it’s not like in college, where we all could just hang out all the time. But you’re basically part of the family, Tyrone. Alcor. You’ll always have a place here. And I’m sure the rest of the gang would say the same.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Thomas said. And smiled, to lighten the mood. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“You’d just miss all the amazing deals I make with you.”

“Of course” Thomas said, glad Tyrone was now teasing instead of moping. “I’m clearly only using you for your clout as Alcor. You’ve made my life so much easier.”

Tyrone mimed a gasp. “Sarcasm, Thomas? Ouch.”

“Not entirely sarcasm,” Thomas admitted. “You do make my life easier, sometimes. When you feel like it. For instance, vanishing that sulphurous stuff Beëlzebob left behind, I was not looking forward to handling that. The smell lingered.”

Tyrone suddenly looked way too innocent. “Oh, I didn’t exactly vanish it.”

Oh Stars. “What did you do?”

“Might have put it somewhere. Like, oh, I dunno… Banerjee’s car.”

Thomas facepalmed. Serves him right for making a vague deal like that. “Is it at least safe?”

“Define ‘safe’.”

“Tyrone!”

“Don’t worry, Thomas, I promised not to deliberately harm the university’s students and faculty, remember? He’ll be fine.”

“All this for an accidental stain on your shirt, really?”

Tyrone folded his arms in front of him. “He didn’t apologize.”

Thomas shook his head, exasperated.

Demons. They really knew how to hold grudges.

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

The Mindscape was a vast, endless realm where the strong hunted the weak and territories were defined, invaded, and redefined. This was the place where demons lived, and they didn’t like each other any better than they liked humans. The collective noun for a group of demons, as they say, is ‘a carnage’. Teaming up was rare, and more often than not ended in the stronger one destroying the other as soon as their goal was met. That was just the natural order of things.

Even so, sometimes even they needed a neutral place to go. Somewhere deals could be made without worrying about being devoured. This place was the Midway Bar, run by a demon known only as the Bartender, and for the past six years it had attracted a group of regulars.

They took over the table in the corner. Sometimes the group lost a member, occasionally it gained one. They weren’t here to make deals. They were here to drown their misery and sneak away before a stronger demon took advantage of their intoxication to ambush them outside these walls.

Beëlzebob entered the Midway Bar. He went straight to the Bartender, who after a short conversation pointed in the direction of the gloomy table in the corner.

“Get lost,” Flaga the Eagle-winged said, at his approach.

The demon next to her, who mostly looked like a giant fungus with teeth, curled a green tendril around their glass. “Yeah. This is a private party.”

Beëlzebob paused. He was stronger than each of them, he knew. But this was no place for threats. “Apologies for the interruption. May I sit?”

That wasn’t how demons talked to each other, especially not to a bunch of low-levels like them. They shared a suspicious glance. The one across from Flaga, some kind of feathered crocodile hybrid, raised his empty glass meaningfully.

Of course. “Listening can parch the throat so,” Beëlzebob said. “Let me get those refilled for you, and then we̙̮'̥͉̘ll̟̮ ț̳̮a̪̩̗̥l̯̹̹k̰.”

[gryffindors-weasley]

Relighting A Flame

Ron Weasley x Reader

Summary: A routine day at work resurfaces unexpected feelings when you encounter the very person responsible for them.

Requested by @snitches-at-dawn : “can i get a ron fluff about bumping into him in diagon alley after years of having broken up”

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: mentions of death, grieving, break ups, angst, fluff

A/N: This will be part one of two! Thank you for the request, Liz!

(not my gif, credits to the maker)

It was a busy day, a long shift ahead of you at Amanuensis Quills. Students, both new and experienced, had swarmed the old cobblestone walkways of Diagon Alley. The bustling commotion filtered in with no intentions of stopping any time soon; it was always the busiest time of year for obvious reasons. You had your work cut out for you with a seemingly endless amount of quills to stock up for the new school year, an equally daunting amount of ink to shelve as well. To make matters worse, you had been left to run the shop by yourself for the day.

Fortunately for you, quills hadn’t been on the top of the list of priorities for most students and their parents, it certainly was never on yours. They’d much prefer to get their brooms in preparation for quidditch and even more excitingly a wand carry with them through their years of magical endeavors. That was always your favorite part.

It was a nice place to work, one with a welcoming familiarity that was very much appreciated. A job outside of the wizarding word didn’t seem quite like a good fit for you, so this was your best option. You were happy though, Flourish and Blotts was right down the walkway for you to stop in on your lunch breaks. They always had something new to appeal to your taste in literature and that was enough to give you something to look forward to each day. It was a cozy place to be in with its winding pathways and perfectly imperfect buildings, and the lanterns dotting along every one had only added to its warmth.

For the most part, you were as happy as you could be given the circumstances of your personal life. You had been accepted into the best training program to become a healer at St. Mungo’s, something you’d always wanted and now it was finally coming together. The training was rather rigorous as one would expect, but you’d always had Madame Pomfrey to help you along when you attended Hogwarts. It felt as though you had a stable footing in your education and you were right where you wanted to be.

You had your own apartment not far away, furnished exactly how you could dream of and maybe even better than you imagined. It was quaint and it was warm and it was yours. No pesky neighbors and you were free to use however much magic you’d like given everyone around there had been witches and wizards. You couldn’t ask for anything better than what you have, though maybe you could think of a few things.

It was a fairly good life to live after the wizarding war, one that was more fortunate than you could have thought to have. Though the burdens of such a historic event still weighed heavy on your heart if thought on for too long.

The small brass bell on the countertop had rung out behind you once to signal a new customer, effectively pulling you from your thoughts and grabbing your attention. It was a perfect and much needed break from the task you’d been working on for the better part of two hours, and it was one you accepted without an ounce of hesitation. You set down the cardboard box in your hands, turning to greet the person who had been responsible for ringing it. Though in that moment, it seemed as though the words had been taken from you completely and pushed out of your mind. Familiar blue eyes had met your own, eyes that had always been obstructed by strands of near unruly red hair. They belonged to someone you hadn’t seen in the better part of six years.

Your mouth hung slightly agape, your heart stilling in your chest and your surroundings fading around you.

“Hey,” Ron managed, fighting a smile because he wasn’t entirely sure if it had been appropriate in that very moment.

You swallow thickly as you try to collect yourself in your flustered state, though the heat blossoming in your cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Seconds of silence had ticked by unforgivingly, each one more agonizing than the last and you quickly began to realize you needed to say something soon or it’d just get worse.

“Hey.”

That was all you could manage, just one single word. But to be fair, how does one broach talking to someone they so desperately longed to see, someone that held so much meaning yet felt so far away?

He scratched the back of his neck as the quiet tension became increasingly more apparent, averting his gaze from you momentarily before the tips of his ears burned any hotter. It was as if he’d just met you, as if the years of endeavors at Hogwarts and countless late night kisses hadn’t ever existed. He felt ridiculous for being so timid around you, for you were not a stranger and you never will be.

“How...is there something I can help you with?”

Your question seemed to have baffled him, and he found himself scrambling to think of just what shop he had even been in currently. The mere sound of your voice had him forgetting all else and he hadn’t realized just how much he longed to hear it. Truthfully he’d been there for you; he’d plucked up the courage to do so after hearing this was where you’d been. George had told him after he had bumped into you on your way to work one morning. Of course he would tell his brother, he’d missed you too after all. But not as much as Ron had, and he would never tell you that.

Your patient but expectant look had pulled him from his daze, his cheeks flushing a pale scarlet as he stood a little straighter and smoothed his loosened tie. His grip on the strap of his bag had tightened as he cleared his throat.

“Y–Yeah…could I get a package of quills?”

The words tumbled out so pathetically as he stammered them, humiliation seeping into every fiber of his being. He knew this was a bad idea, to come and see you. He debated it for months and though maybe it’d be okay. But it was clear you didn’t want to see him; at least that’s what he’d been thinking.

You nod with a soft smile and disappear around a corner momentarily, leaving him to stand in his own regret and offering you an opportunity to release the jittery sigh you’d been holding. Every word you said had been one you over analyzed, and you felt maybe you had been too dismissive, too short with him. Maybe you had come off as though he was the very last person you wanted to see, when in reality he was the first. He’d been the first for years now and you felt you had yourself to blame for that.

Stuffing your feelings down, you reach up on your toes and snag a fresh box from its slightly dusty shelf, taking a breath before willing yourself to go back. He’s standing right where you left him, his gaze so focused on you that he looked away in an instant to pretend it’d just been coincidence. He was always so blatantly obvious. However, it was something you came to be grateful for when your arm snags the corner of the counter, sending the delicate quills flying from their box and fluttering to the ground. The tiny metallic clangs against the floor in the quiet shop were a deafening reminder of your clumsy blunder, and your cheeks burned fiercely when he had looked at you once more.

“I’m sorry, Ron,” You rush with a soft laugh, internally scolding yourself for acting so foolishly in front of him. You’d known him since you were twelve after all, so it shouldn’t have been so difficult.

Your hands shook as you gathered the soft feathers and you tried not to focus on the way you felt him staring. If you had, you just might make another mistake. He was too busy reveling at the sound of his name falling from your lips for the first time in what felt like forever, something he’d thought about more times than he could count. He was too busy dealing with the emotions cascading over him to care about your inherent clumsiness, for you’d always been that way.

You stood to your feet once everything was as it should be, your hair falling ungracefully in your face at the sudden action, and set the box down in front of him. He’d resorted to looking over every inch of the place in that moment in hopes it’d make you forget he’d been gawking.

“I’m sorry,” you say once more, much more meek than you had anticipated it to be.

“It’s okay, lo—” he cut himself short, nearly falling into old habits. He couldn’t call you that anymore. “It’s okay.”

You nod with a soft laugh, looking in his eyes for the first time since he had come in, a small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“What ever could you be doing with thirty quills?” You ask curiously, anything to stave off the tension, though you also wanted to know. Your smile had been returned at your teasing question.

“I’m a professor,” he says, breathing out a nervous laugh of his own. “I’ve uh…I’ve taken over for Lupin. It’s my first year teaching on my own.”

Your eyes widen a fraction at his explanation and you smile a bit brighter at him from your spot across the counter.

“That’s wonderful, Ron!” You exclaim, your hand reaching out to grab his arm in excited habit. Realization was quick to hit you, and it felt as though sparks of electricity had mingled between you, the contact leaving flushed skin in its wake. You quickly recoil your hand, the heat traveling from your cheeks down to your neck. “You’ve…you’ve always wanted to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Ever since Umbridge had taken over for a bit.”

“Yeah,” he laughs, nodding his head in agreement. “That was quite awful.”

The familiar silence was soon to settle over you again, his eyes meeting yours. You’d love to know just what he was thinking, though you were uncertain if your heart could take it if you knew. What you did know was that it was a near impossible feat to look away from him, however, no matter how much you told yourself to. But a rather annoyed throat clearing had sounded and you peered just over his shoulder at the source. A growing line had formed behind him and he reluctantly spared a glance too, dread pooling in his stomach.

“I guess this is goodbye,” you say, offering a small smile.

“I guess it is,” he laughs softly, digging around in his pocket for money. He paid in exchange for his quills, trying not to think about the way your fingertips brushed against his. Or the way he wasn’t quite ready to leave just yet.

“It was nice seeing you again, Ron.”

He looks up at you, a bittersweet smile on his lips as he nodded. “You too, Y/n.”

He brought himself to look away after several moments no matter how much he didn’t want to, but the series of huffs over his shoulder were hard to ignore. He turned around and walked past the very apparent line of customers giving him a sideways glance for holding them up. You watched after him for a moment until he left, disappearing around the corner and out of view as your smile fades. You found yourself rather disappointed at the brief interaction, you wanted more time and your heart squeezed in your chest at the thought. But your attention is quickly stolen by the next customer in line.

—

The rest of the day had gone by quite differently, and the weather had clouded up seemingly to reflect your mood. Every day had been routine; you wake up, you come to work, you go home, and you do it again the next day. Any bit of heartache is easily shoved down and forgotten should there be any that boil over. It’s not everyday that the very love of your life, your best friend, comes in and singlehandedly resurfaces every one of those feelings you fought to keep at bay. The good and the bad.

The brief interaction set back six years of progress you’d made with yourself, six years of trying to live a life without him in it. That small window of time had taken that progress and diminished it to nothing. You missed him, so much so you found yourself looking out of the display windows at the front of the store all day in hopes he’d come back. You missed him and you didn’t want to, you wanted to revert back to the time you didn’t feel as though seeing him completed your day. Now you had seen him, you had talked to him, you had looked in his eyes. You’d been happy to see him and sad all the same. Now the cycle would begin again.

It had been Ron’s decision to take a break from your relationship, just under a year after the war. He had been too overcome with grief over the loss of his brother that he’d withdrawn himself from you, from everyone really. It wasn’t unlike him, and you couldn’t blame him for it either. He loved his family very dearly, and he fought fiercely to protect them. You can’t say you hadn’t expected him to respond this way, you were quite sure you would too and you had been to an extent. But not like Ron. For that, he didn’t feel as though it was fair for you, he didn’t want you to feel responsible for mending his broken pieces. He didn’t want you to feel as though you’d been ignored. You deserved better in his eyes, someone who didn’t feel like a mere shell of the person they once were. Someone who didn’t sulk around and confine himself to his room.

So he broke up with you, regretfully at that. But he couldn’t and wouldn’t forgive himself if he allowed you to feel unloved or unwanted. Because that—that would never be true.

You’d like to think that you handled it very well when he told you, it was a reason that was more than justified. There was no animosity, there were no hard feelings or resentment, not even a little. But that didn’t stop the hurt that settled deep within you. It was a feeling you felt somewhat selfish for but it remained nonetheless. It stayed and it only got worse with each day that passed, with each unanswered letter, with each visit to the Burrow to check up on him only for him to avoid your gaze and tell you softly that he was fine. It was nothing personal, yet it very much felt like it.

In time, you’d wrote to him less and less. Your visits to the beloved family home became few and far between until they had stopped altogether. It wasn’t because you didn’t care, you don’t believe you could ever stop caring for him and his family. But that very feeling was what had been hurting you the most. And any wall you had built has since crumbled unceremoniously to the ground with the days events.

With a sigh, you stacked the last of the shipment of quills and fresh ink onto their respective shelves, brushing the dust on your hands off on your jeans. The chaos of the day had finally ceased now that the sign on the door was flipped to ‘closed’, a quiet settling over the shop. You loved the week before the new school year and hated it all the same; it was endearing to see excited new students frequent Diagon Alley for the first time like you had done years ago. But the frenzy of flustered customers that almost seemed never ending was very much something you could do without.

You gave the room a once over, each package neatly organized, the floor swept and the empty shelves dusted. Perhaps you went above and beyond to distract yourself and keep from going home to simmer in your thoughts, but the darkening clouds had urged you to reconsider. You didn’t have anything particularly exciting to do that evening save for reading the book you’d bought earlier that morning. Though you didn’t think you could concentrate on the story at this point. You were tired and you were replaying it over in your mind.

Reluctantly, you switched off each lamp that dotted around the small shop, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you step outside with a soft sigh. The smell of the rain had immediately hit you, and it was a breath of fresh air compared to the smell of cardboard and ink. Pulling down the shutter over the window on the door you close it and lock it behind you, stuffing the tarnished set of keys in your pocket.

It was significantly less busy at this hour but you made it all of three steps before spotting the ever familiar head of red hair, your heart skipping a beat once more. Your brows furrow as you look up at him, nearly bumping right into him as your head tilts to the side in curiosity.

“What are you doing here?” You ask softly, hoping it hadn’t sounded too expressive of how you’d been feeling.

Ron’s cheeks flush again as he laughs, fidgeting before you as his box of quills sat tucked under his arm. “I was…I was just visiting George,” he says, pointing in the general direction of his brothers shop just down the way from you. “That’s all.”

He could have kicked himself for stumbling over his own words, you had to have thought he sounded ridiculous. He really had gone to see George as he had very frequently, but that had been no less than two hours ago. You nod your head.

“Oh,” you say quietly, offering a small smile in response. “I see.”

He hums, and you look at the rain drops splashing against the cobblestone one after another. You wanted to apparate away, to shut out the world and be in the comfort of your own home so you could unpack the day. And yet you wanted to stay, no matter how much your heart ached upon seeing him you still enjoyed his presence and felt miserable when it was gone.

“I should be going home now,” you say, risking a final glance. He appeared as though he was about to say something before you had beat him to it, and you turned away from him to head to your apartment.

“Y/n wait,” he calls after you, effectively stopping you in your tracks. You look over your shoulder, turning around fully once you see the look on his face. Your brow raises as you await his words, watching as he struggles to find them for a few passing moments. “Would you…would you want to have tea on Thursday?”

Your breath hitches as you stand there, your heart beginning to pound in your chest. The rhythmic beat rang loudly in your ears, so much so that it had to have been heard over the rain. You were quite sure the rise and fall of your chest had been painfully obvious, not to mention the heat in your cheeks that was rapidly trickling down your neck. The numerous thoughts swirled around in your mind in a whirlpool in that moment; it should have been an easy decision, an immediate yes. But the wall you built wasn’t completely destroyed, and the reluctance to get your hopes up for something good was clouding your judgement.

You knew you looked like a fish out of water as you stood before him and each wordless second that passed you by hadn’t been helping your cause. Ron was beginning to worry he overstepped, but he hadn’t said anything either.

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” you manage, exhaling a shaky breath before timidly meeting his gaze.

The look on his face is enough to make your heart burst in your chest but you bite the inside of your cheek, your eyes bouncing between his. He swallows thickly at the soft statement, nodding his head as he looks away from you. You mimic his actions and the grip on your bag tightens as you will away the tears that fought to spill.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, nodding as if to convince himself that he believed you. “Yeah you’re probably right.”

His laugh is soft and humorless, more so to cover up the fact that his heart had dropped down to his stomach. Or the fact that he was embarrassed. He didn’t want to accept this kind of fate, he didn’t want to accept that you felt it best to be apart, even if you didn’t really. He hadn’t expected you to run into his arms, but he didn’t want you to leave.

You nod and clear your throat, the rumble of thunder providing you with an excuse to go your separate ways. With all the hesitation in the world, you lift your hand and give a half wave, unable to trust your own voice with a proper goodbye. You look at him once more, his gaze so full of what could only be longing that you couldn’t bear it.

Spinning on your heel, you try and make your leave again despite your heart cracking and the soft sigh behind you. He couldn’t see you like that. It felt wrong to leave, for the life of you, you couldn’t give yourself even a half decent reasoning for it other than to protect yourself from any more hurt. Spending the last six years without him paled in comparison to this.

“I miss you.”

You still completely at the shaky declaration, and it felt as though the breath had been stolen from your lungs. The words were gentle and you almost convinced yourself you hadn’t heard him correctly. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you peer over your shoulder. He stood there with hope, a feeling that could get him in a great deal of trouble but he can’t bring himself to care about the repercussions right now.

“What?”

His tongue swipes over his lips as he takes a deep breath, willing himself to keep talking. “You’re my best friend, and I miss you. Okay?”

He hadn’t meant to sound so aggressive and forward, but he felt he needed to say it before he didn’t have the chance to. He didn’t expect you to take him back, he didn’t even expect you to give him the time of day. But if there was one thing he could say, that would be it and he took full advantage. It was something he wanted to tell you for far too long. He watched the myriad of emotions wash over you as you face him wholly, and he braces himself for your response.

Your reasoning for leaving seemed to falter and break apart the more time that went by, the more he looked at you like that. The look that was reserved for you, though you were always unaware of that fact and Ron was far too bashful to admit it. Anyone and everyone knew that look had always just been for you. He wasn’t known for being discreet with his feelings.

One tea couldn’t hurt, it wouldn’t break you, right? Surely it would have been better than spending your day at home. His words made your heart flutter, and he spoke them with the utmost of sincerity. It would only be self sabotage to reject this offer.

“Thursday you said?”

He felt so overcome with relief that he’d laughed softly, clearing his throat to try and rid himself of the lump forming there. He almost felt as if he’d conjured up the thought, but the soft smile you were biting back was confirmation enough.

“Yeah,” he nods, his rain dampened hair flopping over his eyes. “Thursday.”

“Okay,” you say, looking up at him. Your heart was still beating wildly, the rain pelting over you softly. “And Ron?”

His brows raise as he holds your gaze. You were reluctant to say it and make yourself vulnerable again. You gulp and think better of it.

“I’ll—I’ll see you then.”

—

Tags: @vogueweasley @theweasleysredhair @loony-loopy-lupinn @lupinsclassroom @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq

[purpleyellow]

Recovery pt 2

Seventeen 14th member

Hayun’s masterlist

“She’s home, and it’s time for the 97+maknae liners to watch Hayun”

a/n: Some of these are shorter, so I apologize. Also, I couldn’t find gifs of mingyu and dino that fit the “aesthetic” so sorry again. Feel free to let me know your thoughts as well as send me some requests💙. Ask box is also open to random chats.

The8

(italics are Chinese)

“Myungho!” Hayun called out from her spot on the couch and waited for a few seconds before screaming again “Minghao! The8! Whatever name you respond to”

“I’m here woman, calm down” The boy rolled his eyes as she extended her arms to give him her notebook. Minghao took it without a second glance and sat on the floor next to her to read the sentences she had written since he had last left her. “Nice job”

“Do you have any pointers to give me?” She smiled paddling her feet on the couch and he gave her back the notebook.

“Your calligraphy still sucks” He snickered making her chuckle “But I told you that the last three times you called me” 

“Yeah, you did,” Hayun twisted her pen, looking from her laptop to the pages before noticing the boy hadn’t left like the previous times “What?”

“Why the sudden interest in Chinese?” He blatantly said, making her close her notebook and shrug her shoulders.

“I needed something to distract me and turns out it’s very easy to get a language certificate through the internet,” The girl said without a break, smiling triumphantly at the end which made him giggle at her proud face. “I might need you to help me revise some stuff though”

“I don’t have much time before I need to go back to pledis so write down your questions and I’ll help you when I get back” He patted her arm and got up from the floor. 

“Yeah, go ahead and leave me like everyone else” Hayun threw her head back dramatically making him look at her sassily.

“You do know we’re making you richer right?”   

“Yes. And you know that I like to communicate with people” She raised a finger and poked his chest “And I can’t do that if someone is not around to teach me their mother tongue”

“Isn’t three languages enough for you?”

“I want to be one of those smug polyglots. Once you’re done with me I’ll call Yuto to help me with Japanese. There’s this idol who can speak German I think, I’ll talk to him too” She joked with a wink and Minghao shook his head laughing.

Mingyu

Mingyu pushed the door with his elbow and set the tray of food on Hayun’s nightstand. Pushing her arm until she woke up from, what he assumed, her nap.

“What?” She groaned holding his hand and turning away from him.

“I made you food” Mingyu chanted sitting on the bad and moving the platter to his lap

“Is it pizza?” She asked, burying her face in the pillow.

“No?”

“Then I don’t want it”

“Noona, you have to in order to get better soon” The boy rolled his eyes poking her side and she groaned again.

“Is it ramen?”

“No” He answered, expecting her to at least sit up to see what it was. In reality, Hayun stayed still in her spot, pretending to fall asleep again and have him go away. Huffing, Minngyu poked her again “I tried a new recipe, you need to help me see if it’s tasty or not”

Raising her head like he expected, she checked what he had brought and whined while sitting properly.

“You made soup” The girl pouted making him laugh. “I want something greasy”

“You can’t have anything greasy for now” Mingyu shook his head and brought the spoon out of the bowl, leaning forward to feed her a little “Say ahh”

Shutting her mouth, Hayun shook her head making him groan and retreat the spoon annoyed. Smiling mischievously, she opened her mouth again and as the boy took the bowl out of his lap she instantly closed it.

“Can you be a little cooperative?” Mingyu complained laughing and she shrugged, allowing him to properly feed her a spoonful. “How is it?”

Making a disgusted face, Hayun quickly changed it to a pondering one and then smiled satisfied.

“Not bad, Chef Gyu”

“Not bad” He repeated her in English making her laugh and nod.

“Next time, maybe add a little more spice”

DK

“A package arrived for you” Seokmin sang while walking inside Hayun’s room and she shot up from her bed “Wait, calm down. We don’t need your stitches to rip open”

“I’m taking them off tomorrow” She rolled her eyes taking the package from him. As he was walking away she waved him inside, shaking the big box with a smile “Stay, you’re going to like what I ordered”

“Ohh, what is it?” He sat along with her on her bed and helped her rip open the cardboard. 

“I ordered a hammock” Hayun smiled satisfied as she made her way to the fabric “I’m going to hang it in my room and chill in it”

“Cool,” Dokyeom got up, holding an end of the object and spreading it out so they could get a perfect view “How are you going to hang it?”

“Uh?” The girl blinked, her smile turning to a frown as she looked at him.

“The hammock. You’re going to need a place to hang it”

“Oh. True” She sighed and let go of her end, throwing her body back on the bed and repressing a very mild discomfort. “I didn’t think about that”

“I guess we’re going to need a drill or something professional like that” The boy kept muttering, walking around her room while looking at the walls and dragging the hammock along the floor.

“There must be a tutorial somewhere on the internet. I’ll look for it later” She sighed carefully pulling herself upwards. “Or you know… my very strong groupmates can hold it up while I lay in it”

“Ah, I think you got the wrong person” DK shook his head grinning and she leaned her head forward doing the same movement.

“No, I don’t. C’mon, Seokmin-ah. Do a favor for your sick Noona” She smirked, making him tumble laughing.

“Wow, just a minute ago there was nothing wrong with you” He managed to say in between laughs and she grinned, leaning on her side and shrugging calmly.

Seungkwan

“Are you going to hold my hand?” Hayun asked Sengkwan as soon as they made it to the hospital, the boy rolling his eyes with a big exhale before taking her hand in his and making her laugh “I meant when they take out the stitches dummy”

“Of course I knew that” He scoffed, throwing her hand away. In revenge, Hayun looped her arm around his waist and forcefully made him hug her shoulder as they walked together. Whining, Seungkwan said under his breath “Noona, not here”

“There’s no one in the hallway, stop pouting” Hayun giggled gently slapping his butt, which caused him to widen his eyes and look around to see if she was telling the truth.

“Aren’t you a little bit worried?”

“Not really. I’ve had stitches before” She shrugged as they walked inside a room and sat on a waiting list. “But in all seriousness, I do want you to hold my hand while they do it”

“Why?” He whined again resting his head on her shoulder. “You said you weren’t scared”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want some support” 

“Okay then” He sighed and they stayed in silence for a few seconds before Seungkwan turned to her serious “You’re probably not going to like hearing this”

“Oh my, what did you do?”

“Nothing. I just feel bad” The boy took her hand again and looked down ashamed “I kind of feel better about not doing the entire performance after you had to step out”

“What?” Hayun frowned and he shook his head, realizing how that sounded.

“I’m not glad that you had to take a break. The members know I complain about wanting you with us all the time” He smiled gently making her chuckle “It just made me realize how lucky I am that I didn’t have to sit out everything”

“Strangely enough I don’t feel attacked at all” Hayun laughed patting his head and gesturing for him to rest on her shoulder again “I’m glad you didn’t have to either Boo. Please keep taking better care of yourself” 

Vernon

“Is that my sister?” Vernon frowned, leaning down over the back of the couch to check out Hayun’s phone.

“Oopsies, gotta go,” Sofia said over facetime and instantly hung up the call, making the boy frown at his own reflection on the black screen.

“You were facetiming my sister?” He looked at Hayun confused and walked around to sit next to her.

“Yeah actually. I do talk fairly often with your mom too.” She quirked up an eyebrow and crossed her arms “You better step up your technology game because I’m stealing your family”

“What?” He chuckled, leaning back and taking her phone to check the latest calls, laughing harder when he realized she was telling the truth.

“I mean it, boy. Your mom said she’s getting me a Christmas stocking this year”

“Well, you’re going to be a great addition to the family” Vernon snickered not knowing if she was being honest or not.

“I’m aware” 

“Are you going to do something right now?” He asked side-eyeing her and she shook her head “Good. I’m going to need you to help me out with something I composed”

“You know. Technically I’m still on my work hiatus” She smirked poking his side and Vernon snorted. “But, we are at home after all so I don’t think that’s a problem”

“I know, that’s why I asked” He laughed and opened an app on his phone.

Dino

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Hayun said as soon as she heard Dino entering the room backstage.

“You came!” The boy beamed running to hug her and she replied with a giggle rubbing his back.

“I wanted to surprise you guys after the last stage” She smiled and shrugged looking to see if anyone else was around “Please don’t tell the others”

“Okay. Oh my, I saw you this morning but I can’t believe you are here” The boy chuckled making her pat his cheek.

“Why did you come back?” Hayun asked frowning “You’re supposed to be on stage in two minutes”

“I left my phone inside my pocket again” Chan giggled embarrassed and took the device, setting it on the table. “Aren’t you going to be lonely while we’re gone”

“Nah. I’ll look around to see if there’s anyone bored too”

“You were supposed to say ‘watching you is enough for me’” Dino made an annoyed face and both of them started laughing.

“I’ll look around after watching the performance, don’t worry” She rolled her eyes and held his hand “Talking about it. If you guys come back and I’m not here text me. I either lost track of time or one of the managers sent me home”

“The managers don’t know you’re here?” He said amused “How did you even come? You’re driving already?”

“I took a cab. But now that you said, I can drive again. I don’t know why I didn’t do that”

“Okay, Noona” Dino laughed stealing a look at the clock “I have to go, please don’t wander around too much”

“Good luck with the performance!” Hayun smiled sending him a flying kiss before he bolted off the room.

[thetravelerwrites]

Eikichi and Sterling (Lemon)

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Female Human/Male Oni/Male Tiefling Additional Tags: Exophilia, Polyamory Negotiations, Polyamorous Character, Oni, Tiefling Content Warnings: Sex, Double Penetration, Oral Sex, Power Bottom, Light Bondage, Light BDSM Words: 4990

 A commission for @faeryamber​! A woman and her oni boyfriend search online for a third to add to their relationship. They end up meeting a perfect gentleman who completes them.Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

“What would we even say on our profile?” You asked your boyfriend, Eikichi. The two of you had been dating for almost five years and had an open relationship, but recently the two of you had been talking about adding a third.

Eikichi was an oni who had immigrated from Japan several years ago. He had been the kami, or god, of an old town that no longer existed and presided over construction for his parishioners for several hundred years. Laborers and carpenters from that town used to come to his temple to pray to him for success in their ventures. When the town died out, he was left homeless and joined the human society when other yokai from his region decided to do so. He was no longer a god, but being the CEO of his own construction company was just as good, he said, and he was just as happy now as he had been when he lived in the temple.

Despite a significant age difference, the two of you had fallen in love over tea and books, and the fact that he was gorgeous. Six foot five, two hundred and fifteen pounds of pure muscle, ivory colored horns rising up out of his white hair, red skin like ripe cherries, and yellow eyes. He was stunning. It still amazed you that he chose you to fall in love with. How would you get that lucky twice?

“Just be honest,” He said, his Japanese accent fairly heavy. “That we’re poly and looking for a male to complete our family. Make it clear we’re not looking for a unicorn.”

“A real unicorn or a figurative unicorn?” You asked jokingly.

“A figurative one,” He said with a smirk. “A real one might actually be cute.”

“Real unicorns welcome,” You typed. “Hehehe.”

“Are you being purposefully vague again?” He asked, putting tea next to you on the desk.

“It’s my favorite thing,” You replied.

“I thought I was your favorite thing,” He shot back, kissing the top of your head.

“Close second,” You said, laughing. “Don’t you have work soon?”

“I’m the owner, I can go in whenever I feel like it,” He retorted. “Are you working today?”

Eikichi owned a construction business, and you sold handmade clothing online by commission only.

“Not today,” You said. “I’ve been putting the housework off and I really should get to that mountain of laundry.”

“We could just throw it all away and buy new clothes,” He suggested.

“Don’t tempt me,” You replied, shooing him. “Go on. What are you thinking for dinner?”

“Spaghetti?”

“Again?”

“What? I like the way you make it.” He gave you a kiss on the forehead, cheek, and lips before picking up his jacket. “I’ll be home a bit early. It’s expected to rain.”

“Okay. Be safe.” You hugged him and saw him out of the door.

You sighed and looked around the house, demoralized by the sight of the housework you’d been neglecting. Both you and Eikichi were a little slovenly, you had to admit, but it was an acceptable amount of clutter. Usually.

Before you could bend down to pick up a pair of pants Eikichi had shucked off the day before as soon as he got in the door, you heard a ping on your phone. Looking down, you’d been matched with someone.

“Already?” You asked. You unlocked it and pressed the notification from OkCryptid. You saw who had matched with you and your jaw dropped.

“No way.”

It was, indeed, a unicorn, although he listed his race as tiefling. Where Eikichi was devastatingly handsome, this man was breathtakingly beautiful in a completely different way. He was thin, slightly taller than you but much shorter than Eikichi, and as pale as milkglass. His hair was long, white, and shimmery like spidersilk. A single horn spiraled out of the crown of his forehead. Pointed ears stuck out from under his hair, and his eyes were indigo in color. In his picture, he was dressed in an elegant, pale lavender suit that complemented his skin perfectly.

“Whoa,” You said under your breath. You took a screenshot and sent it to Eikichi. >You’re not going to believe this.

>You’re kidding! He replied quickly. >I was just joking!

>Me too! Should I message him?

>Hell yeah, he’d be perfect, look at him!

>He’s prettier than I am!

>Not possible. But he is gorgeous. Message him and see if he wants to meet up.

>I will.

You switched back to the app and started typing out a short message.

Hi. My boyfriend and I are in an open relationship, and you matched with us. Would you be okay meeting up sometime? We’d both love to get to know you.

You bit your lip as you hit send. You hoped he wasn’t the type who thought he was better than you or Eikichi because he was pretty or wore suits and such. You put your phone back in your pocket and returned to your housework, putting the lovely tiefling out of your mind.

A few hours later, while you were folding some very large boxer briefs, you got another ping. There was a message from the tiefling. With your heart in your throat, you opened it.

Hello! I’m Sterling. I’m very much open to the idea of an open relationship. I’m free this weekend on Saturday, if that works for you and your partner. Please let me know as soon as you can.

Your heart jumped and you felt giddy. You immediately texted Eikichi.

>He wants to meet us Saturday! You don’t have plans then, do you?

>I do now. Tell him we’ll be happy to meet him. You want to do that Japanese cafe?

>You just like that place because that kitsune owner and his girlfriend are pretty and you like looking at them.

>So?

>Maybe we shouldn’t ogle other people while were wooing someone.

>Perhaps you’re right. Sigh. Okay, then the Italian place you like.

>Ooh, I’m always happy with that.

>I know you are. LOL

You smiled. He did know you pretty well. You switched back to the app and messaged Sterling again.

That Saturday, you and Eikichi waited at your favorite restaurant, sipping some wine, when Sterling arrived. He was dressed in a suit again, though a dark burgundy one this time. His bright, gossamer hair was pulled back into a tight plait. Gods, he was pretty.

“Hello,” He said, his voice lilting. “I assume the two of you are my dates tonight?”

“We are,” You said, standing up. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

He took your outstretched hand and folded it into both of his, smiling sweetly. “Very nice.”

“Eikichi,” Your boyfriend said, holding out his hand in turn.

“Well, aren’t you strapping?” Sterling said with a grin, shaking Eikichi’s hand firmly. “Let’s sit, shall we. Oh, thank you for ordering me a glass as well.”

“Of course,” Eikichi said.

“So, tell me about yourselves,” Sterling said, taking a sip of his wine and raising his eyebrows appreciatively. “What am I getting myself into?”

The two of you told him about your jobs and life together and he listened attentively. “What do you do, Sterling?” You asked. “I would hazard a guess that it’s something to do with fashion, given how you dress.”

“Very astute of you,” He replied, pleased. “I’m a tailor, in fact. I own a menswear shop downtown.”

“Really?” You said with interest. “I’ve only ever made dresses, never suits.”

“Well, we will have to compare techniques, then, won’t we,” He said with a charming smile.

“Fashion is something that’s well over my head,” Eikichi said. “But you work with your hands. That’s something we all have in common, even if my profession gets me a little dirty more often.”

“You look good dirty,” You said in a flirty tone. “And even better all soaped up.”

He snorted. “You’re supposed to be flirting with our date, not me.”

“No reason she can’t do both,” Sterling said reasonably, sipping his wine. “So, would I be dating one or both of you? I’ll mean, I am bisexual and you’re both very attractive, but I want to know where my boundaries are.”

Eikichi nodded. “Both. We’re both bisexual and have outside girlfriends. Those relationships are casual and we both prefer it that way.” He gestured at you. “We’ve both met each other’s girlfriends. The four of us sat down and discussed all of us dating each other, but we ultimately decided against it.”

You leaned forward. “Have you ever been in an open relationship?”

“No, not as such,” He said. “I’ve only dated casually before. I’m not opposed to the idea of commitment, it just… hasn’t happened for me yet.”

“It could,” You replied. “Maybe you just haven’t met the person for you. Or persons.”

“Are you insinuating you two are said persons?” He asked with a smirk.

You shrugged and grinned. “We could be. Why don’t we find out?”

He matched your smile.

“We make decisions together,” Eikichi said. “We’ve got a contract, you might say: she’s what you would call a power bottom. She likes taking the submissive role, but she also likes to tell me what to do, and even though I’m what could be considered a dom, I like taking orders. It’s a little unorthodox, but it works for us.”

“How would I fit in?” Sterling asked.

“That depends. What position do you play, so to speak?”

“Whatever is best at the time. I guess I’m a switch? Though, I have to admit I haven’t been very adventurous.”

“We’ll teach you, if you want to learn,” You said, leaning closer so that your fingertips touched his arm.

“It’s not just about sex, though,” Eikichi said. “We want someone to love us as much as we’ll love them. If you decide you’d like to be casual, that’s fine. We can keep you casually and just continue looking for our third. Honesty and openness is the most important thing in any relationship. If you decided to be in the relationship with us, that would apply to you, too.

“And your impression of me so far, if I might ask?”

“You seem genuine and intelligent, and you’re very good looking. I don’t get any bad vibes of you. So far.”

“So what would be your recommendation?”

“Well, the date just started,” Eikichi said. “Let’s get to dessert before we make further plans.”

“And what does the boss say?” Sterling asked, turning to you.

You side-smiled at him. “Dessert first. But let’s just say you passed the application process.”

The three of you spent another two hours talking over dinner and dessert. Sterling was funny and smart and surprisingly nerdy, once he opened up. He loved manga, anime and collecting Funko Pop Vinyl figures. He had quite the collection. He had spend several years in Japan learning about Japanese fashion after college and ended up having a lot of tastes in common with Eikichi, reminiscing about food and drink brands they couldn’t get in the states.

With you, he talked about fashion and sewing and wanting to branch out. And all three of you had similar tastes in music, books, and movies.

After dinner, the three of you went to a small, comfortable pub that you and Eikichi were familiar with and continued your conversation well into the night. At one point, Sterling even loosened his tie and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt, which you thought was a great sign. He seemed comfortable and open. And you got to peak at his collarbone.

Eventually, the bar closed, and the three of you reluctantly decided to call it a night with plans to see each other again soon.

“I really liked him,” You said in the car on the way home.

“I could tell,” Eikichi said with a smile. “You were practically in his lap by the time the night was over.”

“You like him, too,” You said shrewdly in response.

“I do like him,” Eikichi admitted. “There was definitely a connection between all of us. I think he might be the one we’re looking for.”

“Me, too,” You said, bouncing in your seat slightly. “I can’t wait to see him again.”

Eikichi smiled at your enthusiasm, but you knew he was just as excited.

A few days later, the three of you met up for drinks and continued talking. You felt that flushed, rosy feeling when you first start dating someone and it’s going really well, and you thought Sterling was feeling it, too. He was soon holding hands with both you and Eikichi in turn, being flirty and physically affectionate.

You were trying to go slow and not jump into things head first, but there was a real, tangible attachment between the three of you that was hard to ignore. You could see it on both men’s faces when they looked at each other, and when they looked at you.

That night before you parted ways with Sterling, he kissed you full on the lips. It wasn’t just a peck, either; it was long and open-mouthed, with just a hint of tongue. You were surprised but delighted, and reciprocated happily. When he parted with you, he pulled Eikichi down and kissed him, too.

“Why don’t we meet at our house next time?” You asked him. “I think you’ll have a good time with us.”

He grinned. “I have no doubt I will. Sounds wonderful.”

You bit your lip and smiled. “Until then.”

The night of your home date, you were jittery. You wanted to look cute, hot, sexy, and intimidating, but couldn’t decide what to wear that reflected all of those things. You stood inside your closet wearing only your nicest pair of panties.

“You could just answer the door naked,” Eikichi suggested.

“All of your solutions involve nudity,” You snorted.

“That’s why they’re clearly the best solutions,” He replied.

“You are absolutely no help to me,” You said, switching between two different dresses in front of the mirror.

“That black sheer one with the lace, then,” He replied as he watched. “It’s a nice preview.”

“Oh, but I only wear that one for you. Won’t you be jealous?” You asked playfully.

“Nah,” He said, coming up behind you and putting his hands on your stomach. “If we’re going to share, then there’s no point in keeping things from each other. He should enjoy it just as much as I do. Besides, I’m going to wear that black shirt you like so much.”

“Oooh, the one with the subtle feather pattern on it?” You asked as he helped you into the dress. “I do like that one. Leave the top two buttons undone in that way that I can see your collarbone.”

“You and your obsession with collarbones,” He said, snickering.

“Hey, we all got our own things we like. Don’t kinkshame me in my own house,” You joked. “I don’t poke fun at you for your pregnancy fetish.”

“You’re the one who decided no kids,” He said grumpily, checking his watch. “He’ll be here soon. I’ll finish up dinner .+while you get dressed.” He kissed your neck. “You look delicious no matter what you wear.”

He could always make you blush, even after five years. He walked back out to the kitchen and finished up the okonomiyaki and tsukune balls. Eikichi wasn’t exactly a gourmet cook, but he knew how to make plenty of his favorite dishes from home. He thought Sterling might like some Japanese food to remind him of his time there.

Sterling arrived later wearing a black suit with a blood red tie and pocket square. His hair was pulled back in an elegant french braid with red ribbons threaded throughout. He stood at the door with roses, wine, and a bright smile.

“Well, I guess we were all of one mind this evening,” He said as he looked at the both of you both wearing black. He gave you the roses and the wine, which actually turned out to be plum sake.

“Umeshu!” Eikichi said. “I haven’t had this in ages! Come in, come in, sit! I’ll pour us all a cup.”

“How was your day, Sterling?” You asked him, offering to take his coat.

He shrugged it off and gave it to you with a gentle smile. “It was pleasant. I made a few good sales and I have an order for a bespoke three piece double breasted suit with a shawl lapel. Someone is going somewhere fancy, which is my favorite thing to work on. So much gossip during fittings.”

You put the roses in a vase as Eikichi poured the sake. Sterling sat at the table, which was beautifully set, and you placed the roses in the center. Eikichi handed both of you a traditional choko sake dish, one of the few relics he’d brought with him from his old temple.

“Ah, this takes me back,” Sterling said, sipping delicately.

“Me too,” Eikichi sighed happily.

“I’ve never been to Japan,” You said. “Eikichi keeps talking about us taking a vacation there, but he’s such a workaholic that it never ends up happening.”

“We will go! I promised, didn’t I?” Eikichi protested.

You grinned at him playfully. “I’ll believe it when it happens, mister.”

“I would love to take some time off and go back,” Sterling said wistfully. “Some of the best years of my life were spent on that island.”

“Maybe you may be more successful in talking Eikichi into putting in some vacation time,” You said, winking.

“I will endeavor to try,” Sterling said, putting a hand out and resting it on the back of Eikichi’s. Eikichi flipped his and grasped Sterling’s hand briefly, smirking at him, before standing up to finish dinner.

“Tsukune?” Sterling said in a pleasantly surprised tone.

“Yep,” Eikichi said. “And okonomiyaki. I thought you’d appreciate it.”

“The two of you are spoiling me,” Sterling said, a hand to his heart a little dramatically, which made you snicker.

Dinner went amazingly. Sterling praised Eikichi’s cooking and he adored your dress, even more so when you told him you’d made it yourself. He actually got down on the ground so he could look at the stitching on the hem.

You smiled to yourself, looking at the top of his head from your chair. Your eyes flicked to Eikichi, and his smile was mischievous. He knew exactly what you were thinking.

You slid off your shoe and began tracing your toe up from his knee, where he knelt on the ground, and up his leg to his waist, managing to pull his shirt out of his pants and tickling the skin of his stomach.

He looked up at you, smirking, but didn’t stop you or say anything. Eikichi silently slid out of his chair and disappeared into the bedroom for a moment, returning with a length of soft cotton rope before sitting back down at the table and watching with a fond smile. Sterling took your foot and kissed the top of it, working his way up your legs with his hands and lips.

You tilted your pelvis forward as his hands went up your skirt and pulled at your underwear.

“These are pretty,” He said as he slid them off.

“Only the best,” You replied with a grin.

“The safe word is ‘Enokida’,” Eikichi said idly from his seat where he was watching, lightly tapping the rope against his thigh. “Don’t stop until she says it, even if she screams and begs. Her rules, not mine.”

“I understand,” Sterling said, though he looked at you with an inquiring eyebrow. You nodded acquiescence and bit your lip.

He hiked your dress up to your waist, exposing you to the air. He kissed the inside of your thighs, working upward until he was breathing on your most sensitive place, stroking it lightly with one long finger. You hissed and sucked in a breath, your body stretching and flexing. His finger teased around your pearl without actually touching it, and he pulled up to kiss your mouth, biting and sucking your bottom lip. Ooh, he was good at this.

The first stroke of his tongue on your slit sent electricity though your body, and you moaned. He vocalized in return, sending vibrations through your skin. Eikichi set the rope on the table next to you and began caressing your shoulders and pulling lightly at your hair, tilting your head back to meet his kiss as Sterling continued his ministrations, looking up from his position on the floor to watch you and Eikichi make out and fondle each other.

Eikichi pulled your dress off and lifted your arms, starting to wrap your hands with the rope.

“Not tying her to the chair?” Sterling asked.

“Don’t stop!” You hissed, looking down. Sterling snickered and went back to work.

“She can get out if I tie her to the chair,” Eikichi said. “I don’t know how, but she can get out every time. What good is tying her up if she can just free herself anytime she wants? Again, her words, not mine.”

Sterling snorted, but continued. You were reaching your peak quickly, having been turned on all through dinner. Eikichi finished tying your hands and left a leash connected to it that he could control. He pulled your hands over your shoulder and held them against his chest while he used his other hand to massage your breasts.

Your thighs began to shake as you moaned loudly, unable to move. You crashed into that wall of pleasure at the speed of a freight train, but he kept going. You tried to push him away with your feet, but he held your legs back against your chest. Eikichi put your tied hands around his neck and grabbed your ankles, pulling them up. Sterling continued, pulling another orgasm from you almost immediately. You were a sweating, swearing mess at this point, but it was so good. You fought against the restraints and their firm grips, but the two of them held you in place rather effectively.

You were still shivering from the aftershocks of the last orgasm when another one sent you contracting off the chair. Eikichi, with his sheer brute strength, was the only thing that kept you from falling sideways.

“Enokida! Enokida!” You screeched, and Sterling finally pulled away and you were left boneless and gasping in the chair. Eikichi lifted you up bridal-style and carried you to the bedroom with Sterling following behind.

“Do you need a break?” Eikichi asked, petting your sweat soaked hair away from your face.

You nodded. “You two have fun while I catch my breath.”

Eikichi grinned at you and slid off the bed, catching Sterling by the waistband of his trousers and pulling him roughly toward him, kissing him passionately. Sterling responded favorably, kissing Eikichi back just as soundly and unbuttoning Eikichi’s shirt.

You spent your break slowing down your heart rate and watching the two of them undress each other and make out. It was pretty hot, you had to admit. Sterling pushed Eikichi on the bed and got on top of him, grinding against him as they kissed. Sterling found his way down Eikichi’s body, just like he had done with you, and started sucking Eikichi’s cock right next to you, where you could watch. Sterling kept switching eye contact with you and Eikichi in turn and moaning. Eikichi grunted and his legs flexed in pleasure.

Your hands were still bound, but you touched yourself as you watched them, and Sterling reached underneath him to fondle himself while he continued sucking. At some point, Eikichi tapped out and put Sterling on the bed, sucking him in turn.

“I’m ready again,” You said. “Eikichi, do the thing I like.”

“You got it,” He said, getting up on his knees. His massive dick swayed upright between his thighs. He took the leash part of the rope and pulled your legs back up, tying your knees up around your ribcage, giving you enough room to breathe but not enough to buck. He also put your arms around his neck, so that you couldn’t move them.

He picked you up and presented you, tied and splayed, to Sterling. “You go first.”

Sterling smiled and gripped your hips, lining his organ up with your entrance. Where Eikichi was all girth, Sterling’s was long and curved upward. He pushed himself into your dripping slit and you groaned. He didn’t waste time in being slow and gentle; he rammed straight into you and you screamed. He railed you fast and hard, every so often either kissing you or Eikichi over your shoulder.

As Sterling’s body slapped sharply against yours with every thrust, the pressure and pleasure continued to build until you burst, and your brain blanked, with you going limp in Eikichi’s grasp.

“Wait, hold up,” He said to Sterling, and Sterling stopped immediately, though he didn’t pull out. “You okay, babe?”

“Mmm,” You said. “Water.”

Sterling did withdraw then, grabbing a water bottle that was on the bed. Because you were tied, you couldn’t take the bottle so he opened it and helped you sip it.

“Better?” He asked.

“Yeah,” You said. “Thanks.”

“You want to keep going or take another break?”

“I don’t think I need a break, but let’s take it a bit more slow. I loved what you were doing, but I think I’m overstimulated.”

“I got you,” He said, slipping himself back inside you more slowly and gently. Eikichi held you so that your head lay on his chest and he put his arms around you, holding you in place but also embracing you, kissing your neck and shoulders.

After some time, you said, “I want both.”

“You got it, babe,” Eikichi said. “There’s some lube in the dresser, Sterling, could you grab it?”

“Of course,” Sterling said. He stopped and pulled out, reaching over to opened the drawer and retrieve it. Reaching underneath you and taking Eikichi’s cock in his hand, Sterling slicked it down with the lube, which made Eikichi hiss, and then lead it to your pucker. Eikichi pushed himself inside you slowly, very slowly, until he was all the way inside and stopped. Sterling took his place back in front of you and took himself in his hand, stroking twice, and pushing back into you.

Ever so slowly, the two of them began to thrust in rhythm. Sterling caressed your face, then took a fistful of your hair, gripping it tightly as he went in and out, his other hand had your breast in it’s grasp. Eikichi grunted and bit the lobe of your ear, whispering dirty things and moaning, blowing his breath across your skin.

The three of you moved in unison, crying out and gasping, sweating, swearing, screaming. Soon enough, they were both ramming you as hard as they could, and you were reveling in the full feeling, the incredible pressure, the feeling of being sandwiched between them.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You shouted, cumming for possible the twentieth time. Sterling pulled out with a strangled groan and came all over your stomach and legs. Eikichi took another few seconds, but finished inside you, roaring and bucking into you from behind. Then the three of you collapsed in a pile.

“Eikichi, the ropes,” You said breathlessly.

He reached up and snapped them effortlessly, allowing them to slip off. Then you managed to move so that you were lying in between the two of them, arms and legs everywhere. Then the three of you just lay there and breathed for about ten minutes.

Sterling was the first to rouse. “Well,” He said, still a little out of breath. “That was definitely a good time, as promised.”

You laughed and pulled him into a kiss. “I’m glad we could live up to our promises.”

You thought Eikichi was almost asleep, except he said groggily, “Are you staying the night, Sterling?”

“I’d planned to,” Sterling said. “I closed the shop for the next two days. I wanted to be sure I had enough recovery time.”

Eikichi barked a laugh. “You might need another few days. This one is insatiable.” He jerked a thumb at you while his eyes were still closed.

“Sounds good to me,” Sterling said, laying his head on your breast and sighing contentedly. “I haven’t had a break since I opened the store. A mini-vacation is exactly what I need.”

“Hey, maybe you might actually get us to Japan, like Eikichi promised.”

“I said we would,” Eikichi protested sleepily, throwing an arm around you and pulling up the covers.

Sterling snuggled in, kissing the middle of your chest before settling. “I’ll see what I can do.”

One year later, you stepped out of the airport in Kyoto, bundled up against the cold. Eikichi stood next to you, carrying most of the luggage, and Sterling took out his phone to call a cab to take you to the apartment the three of you had rented for your vacation. On your left hand, you wore two interlocking engagement rings, one sterling silver, and the second rose gold.

You breathed in the crisp air. “I can’t believe we’re really here.”

“Believe it,” Eikichi said. “The spring wedding will be amazing.”

“And we came with plenty of time to get things in order,” Sterling said, hanging up. “Cab is on it’s way.”

“Thank you,” You said sultrily, pulling Sterling toward you for a kiss. “I also can’t believe the two of you actually said yes when I asked you if you wanted to get married.”

“I’d have married you years ago, babe,” Eikichi said, bending down to get his kiss. “I just didn’t know it was something you wanted.”

“Well, now you know,” You said, winking up at him. “And I can’t think of a better place.” You took a couple of the bags as the cab pulled up. “Now let’s get going. Our future is waiting.”

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[moral-turpitudes]

House Calls:

A/N: I’m in no way a doctor or even a med student, I just used google and went off my own experiences with fevers...so yeah lol. I’m screaming at how cute Soft!Tommy is though like I think I’m dead. RIP to me and my ovaries.

Trigger Warnings: Angst, FLUFF. Some flirty shit at the end.

Word Count: 1,640

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female Reader

Request: “Could you perhaps write a one-shot Tommy x reader and the reader would work as a doctor and one day she would be called to treat John or Charlie (doesn’t matter) and she would be able to cure them and Thomas would be very grateful for it. I think that might be very cute but if you don’t like the idea it’s okay!! 😃😃”

Requested by: Anon

Summary: Y/N is summoned to Thomas Shelby’s house to help cure his ailing son, not knowing she’d catch the eye of the usually cold-hearted gang leader.

Part 1 | Part 2

Around 5am a rough, rattling cough came from the depths of Charlie’s lungs, startling him awake and causing him to cry between ragged breaths. His frail screaming pierced the air, sending Tommy shooting out of bed, grabbing his gun from his nightstand, and darting straight to his sons room. He panicked internally, while flinging the door open for any signs of danger, only to be met with Charlies cries and outstretched hands.

Tommy took a deep breath and sighed, scooping him up and taking a seat in the rocking chair near his crib. As he fought sleep, he looked at the pale blue ceiling of his sons room, listening to Charlie’s ragged breaths. With a furrowed brow, he lifted him up, bringing his forehead to his lips, confirming his suspicions of a fever. The poor thing was flushed red in the face, a light sheen of sweat developing on his skin as his hot tears soaked his face.

“Shhh...it’s okay. Daddy’s got ya. We’re going to call a doctor okay?” He said, trying to gently coo to calm Charlie down. He was whining and fussy and showing no signs of the fever breaking anytime soon.

Tommy gently got up with him and brought him to his bedroom, sitting him on what would’ve been Grace’s side of the bed, and lied down next to him whilst he dialed the doctors office.

A nice voice on the end of the line answered. “This is Dr. Y/L/N with the Birmingham Women and Children’s Clinic. How may I help you?” She asked.

“Hello Dr. Y/L/N, this is Thomas Shelby. I’m calling about my son. He has a cough, ragged breathing, and a fever that seems really high. Are you able to make house calls?” He asked, watching as Charlie played with a horse-shaped toy.

“Yes of course Mr. Shelby. I’ll just need an address and I’ll be over in about 30 minutes.” She said.

Tommy told her the address and any other details she needed to know. And before he could hang up, her voice sounded again, calming Tommy as the sun rose through the window.

“Don’t worry Mr. Shelby, I’ll have him better in no time. But just for a precaution, get a cold rag and put it on the back of his neck to help with the fever.”

“Alright, I will. Thank you.” He said before hanging up.

“Well Charlie, looks like we’re going to have a visitor alright? She’s going to take good care of ya.” He said as Charlie now laid against his chest, whining quietly. Tommy gently put him on the pillow and went to get a cloth, running it under cold water, and putting it over the back of his neck.

“There ya go, my sweet boy.” He said kissing the top of his head. He whined a bit as the cold cloth touched his neck, protesting the feeling as Tommy watched sleepily over him. It was around 5:30 in the morning when they finally heard the doorbell and a swift knock on the door.

Tommy picked up Charlie, and went to the door allowing the nurse to step in.

“Thank you for coming so early in the morning. I’m surprised anyone’s working this early.” He said, his voice still a bit groggy.

“Of course! I was working the graveyard shift so I’m always the doctor on call at this time. Now this must be Charlie...Hello sweetheart. My name is Y/N.” You said, smiling and in a much more lively tone than Tommy.

“Charlie do you want to show Y/N to your room?” He asked. Charlie looked up at you and smiled slightly, his rosy cheeks alarming you a bit.

“Lead the way you two, I’ll be right behind ya.” You said, nervously walking down the hall and up the stairs, reveling at the grandiosity of the house. You knew the Shelby’s after caring for many of the families wives and children, but this was the first time you’ve encountered the infamous Thomas Shelby. His current state was much less alarming than you thought it was going to be. You expected a ruthless leader answering the door, with a razor-blade cap on and wielding a gun, but instead he was a blue-eyed slim faced man, with a loose fitting shirt and pants on, and an adorable baby boy living seemingly alone in this huge mansion. 

“Here we are, where would you like me to put him?” He asked you. You looked around the blue-toned room, your eyes catching a portrait of a blonde haired, beautiful woman in a frame near his crib that you assumed to be his late mother, as it was similar to the one in the stairwell.

“His crib is fine.” You said, sitting your work bag down and putting your gloves on and putting your stethoscope around your neck. 

“If you don’t mind I’d like to stay, he doesn’t like when I leave...” He said, taking a seat in the rocking chair.

“That’s completely fine, Mr. Shelby. I’ll try to make this quick so you don’t fall asleep.” You said smirking. He smiled and watched on as you did your work.

“Alright I’m going to take this and listen to your heart okay? Big breaths for me, like this.” You said, breathing in a big breath and blowing out.

He did his best to copy you and sat surprisingly still as the stethoscope gently made its way around his chest and back.

“His heart sounds great, but his breathing is a bit rough. His lungs sound like they’re inflamed a little bit.” You said looking over at Tommy who was eyeing you intently, causing you to blush a bit as he nodded for you to continue. 

“Okay sweetie let’s take your temperature shall we?” You say before reaching in your bag to get a thermometer.

“Can you say “Ahh” for me Charlie?” You asked, smiling at him. He opened his mouth just enough for you to examine his throat before raising his arm up to place the thermometer under his arm.

“We’re going to play a game okay? You’re going to hold that under your arm and I’m going to hold this under mine until it’s ready alright?” You said, grabbing a pencil from your bag and placing it under yours, getting him to copy you. You were able to get a reading not too long after, taking the pencil from under your arm and clapping as you removed the thermometer from under his.

“Now I know you won’t like me for a moment, but I’m going to shine this at your eyes for a second okay? Look at me.” You said guiding his eyes with your finger as you examined them.

“Great job sweetheart!” You said leaning down to him and giving him a high-five. You turned to Tommy who was smiling at your all’s little interaction. 

“It’s 101.5...that’s a bit high especially for a toddler, and so from the look and sound of it, I’m going to say he has acute bronchitis.” 

His face turned a bit serious as he took in what you said. Your smile faded slightly as you took in his change of emotion.

“Will you be able to prescribe his anything?” He asked, concern lacing his face and his voice.

“Of course Mr. Shelby. I’m going to prescribe him some cough syrup that will help with the cough and everything, and I recommend cold compresses every few hours to help with the fever or a cold bath if you find it increasing.” You said writing out a note for the prescription.

“Alright, thank you again. I hate to keep you away from your work, but I’d probably be panicking right now if it weren't for you Dr. Y/L/N.”

“It’s no problem at all, especially when my patients are as well behaved as little Charlie.” You said, smiling at him and then at Tommy. You felt his gaze on you as you gathered your things and as you made your way to the door.

“Oh and Mr. Shelby, you can call me Y/N. I’d be happy to help you again if need be.”

“Thank you Y/N. And you can call me Tommy. I know it may not be the right time, but I’d love to pay repay ya in some way, not just with money...” He said lingering by the door to Charlie’s room. You stopped and looked at him, taking a moment to think about what he said.

“What kind of repayment were you thinking Mr. Sh-I mean Tommy?” You asked, catching yourself calling him that out of habit. 

“I was thinking maybe going for a drink sometime, when you’re free of course.” He said. You blushed and took a long look at him. 

“I’d love that actually...I’ll ring you this Friday when I’m free.” You said.

“Then it’s a date.” He said smiling slightly before turning back to Charlie. 

You walked out, hearing the birds singing as you drove off and back to the remaining hours of your long shift, excitedly looking forward to the end of the week.

Later that morning, Thomas called the shop, telling Polly all that went on and decided to take the day off to better help monitor him, but before she could say anything else he spoke.

“Oh and cancel anything for Friday of this week.” He said.

“Why...? Thomas is it serious?” She asked concerned.

“No Poll. The lovely doctor prescribed him some medicine. I’m...actually going to be meeting with her that day...”

“My god you’ve asked out the doctor?” She asked.

“I did. But I know she’s not like the others Poll, you’ll see.” He said before hanging up. 

After Grace’s death, he didn’t know when he’d want to take up dating again, but dating takes risks, and risks were something that Thomas Shelby could never shy away from.

Tag List:

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @cai-neki, @peakyxtommy

[genaleah]

ANSWERING WILDCARD QUESTIONS

For the first time in about a year maybe??? Some of these might be even older than that.

Yes, it is Korka! I definitely want her involved, she’s a wonderful character and there is a *lot* of fun paranormal stuff going on in this setting that she can help them research. Also, I’d just love for her and Nelson to become friends!

Thank you! I love him a lot, and it’s fun to picture him interacting with the other guys. They’d all make for some interesting uncle figures, but they might not be that great in terms of role models.

OHOHO. Devilish laugh. That’s a wonderful idea, and a good way to keep him occupied at some point. He’s a great character, but he’s incredibly powerful, and I want these dudes to solve their own problems whenever possible. 

A good question! I don’t remember most of my dreams, but there’s usually a consistent look to the vivid ones. Lots of water, mountains, creeks, and high, winding roads. There are also a lot of buildings that are closely integrated with nature, even though I have almost never seen construction like that. 

I had not, but now I have! Here’s a trailer, for anyone else that missed it:

https://youtu.be/33HXHaaagsw

I really like these new models! I’m looking forward to watching a playthrough when that’s available. Just like with Rhombus of Ruin, I don’t think I’ll be able to play this one myself.

DOUBLE FINE, I WISH TO SPEAK WITH YOU- no, I’m kidding! I think great minds think alike. But I’m really excited to learn more about that character and possibly involve them in this whole au eventually. 

I’ve actually tried to avoid almost any info about Psychonauts 2 so I can go in mostly-blind, and a lot of the characters are vague to me. It’s fun to look forward to, but it’s also a little harrowing because I don’t know how to anticipate for it!

N...NO..... I NEED TO... Honestly those are old enough that it might be a good idea for me to re-make them, as well as the playing cards I made for the mega playlist cover. I think it’d be nice to remake them as vectors... that might make for a nice art stream sometime. I’ll mention publicly if I start doing that, and sharing any of these conceptual Wildcards arts when they’re done. 

And if you’re just curious about what the tarot cards for the other characters are going to be, it’s this:

Eddie: Judgement, The Magician, The Emperor

Manny: Death, Justice, The World

Sam: The Chariot, The Tower, Strength

Max: The Devil, Wheel of Fortune, Joker

Although! I may actually give the Moon card to Max instead of the Devil, and replace the missing card from Nelson’s selection with the High Priestess?  🤔  I’ll decide when I get to it.

Could be! I’ve flip-flopped occasionally on if I want the split-a-cab gang to participate much in the story. I think they deserve a break, and splitting an apartment in New York seems like a good situation for the four of them.

Oh boy, that must be so disorienting for him. The Psychonauts deal with a lot of hippy-dippy weirdness in a seemingly organized way, but it seems like they’re not as paranoid about safety as a real federal organization would be. Not necessarily a good thing, considering one of their camp counselors went AWOL one day, and the head of the Psychonauts got kidnapped the next. They kinda need to get their act together.

Fun fact, in one of the earlier drafts of Chapter 3 I was actually going to make Nelson get scanned by the equivalent of a metal-detector for malevolent thoughts at the door and get really spooked by it, but I decided against it.

YEAH IT’S ON THE LIST

Honestly, a big bulk of the plot in this just regards characters having to face their mental health struggles... via facing it as literal internal demons, unstable powers, etc.  It’s going to take a little while for any of Eddie’s teammates to realize how MUCH he has going on under the surface because he does a pretty good job of hiding it. “Needing to help others above ever helping themselves” is a hard issue to notice if you’re not looking for it. But it’s a guarantee that once they find out he needs help, they’ll give it; whether that’s making sure he’s not working himself too hard, or fighting off demonic cultists. Care comes in many forms.

SHE NEEDS TO REST.... POOR SYBIL (on the upside, they don’t TECHNICALLY work there, so she might be fine most of the time.)

Strong Bad isn’t a Psychonaut! He’s just a vlogger and a petty (psychic) criminal. It’s honestly not very different from canon.

Free Country, USA is a smalltown hotbed of psychic activity. Nearly everyone there has some mild capacity for supernatural powers, but nobody really notices or cares. Strong Bad just pops the tops off of cold ones and.... sometimes alters reality, a tiny bit. But mostly just in regards to media. The cartoons, comics, etc, that he invents and talks about have a tendency to suddenly voip into existence and nobody knows how. I swear, there’s actually a line of him saying something to this effect, but I can’t find it anywhere.  Don’t worry about it! Nobody in town is ever going to do anything truly nefarious with their powers, so it’s not a high priority on the Psychonauts’ radar, just a weird footnote.

The only reason Homestar is an actual agent is because he seems like exactly the kind of guy to sign up for a job like that on accident and then stick with it. And he’s a talented telekinetic! None of his other friends know about his job or notice his absences.

And just for fun, here’s some weird instances of psychic overpowering that happened in the cartoon:

---

(Poor Strong Sad)

I’ve actually answered this one before! BAM  Pretty sure all of it is still accurate.

Nelson: He sees floating sheets of paper containing notes, questions, etc. Anything that he wants to know more about regarding that person. The notes are subject to edits, cross-outs, ripped pages, etc.

Guybrush: He sees the item that the person is carrying that he wants most. As he gets to know people better, he sees them for their useful skills first.

Manny: His view of most living people is not very kind...

The people he’s closest to will eventually look a lot less garish. More like a flattering, camera-ready versions of themselves.

Eddie: Sickass sketch drawings that look like they belong in the margins of a composition book. The illustrations improve as he gets a better picture of where they’d fit in the internal lore of his mental world.

Sam: A lot like Nelson; Sam pictures case files, though his are a bit more in-depth.

Max: Max’s visions of people are highly personal and uncomfortable for those who witness them. He sees Nelson as a puzzle with a piece missing. Guybrush is a ripped up voodoo doll. Manny is a forgotten ofrenda. Eddie is a powder keg with a long, lit fuse. Sam is Sam, but he’s the wrong one.

I also got two questions that were pretty big subjects, or that I didn’t want to repeat, so I’m gonna cover them pretty broadly:

REGARDING [X] CHARACTER OR SERIES INCLUDED IN THE AU

Sure, I support it! I’ve gotten this question a few times in regards to things that I haven’t had time to delve into yet, or I’m not interested in, so I’m not going to include it into the AU myself. But if you want to explore an idea like that, feel free! This AU is pretty dang collaborative.

My main focus is just on the main 6 properties: Psychonauts, Puzzle Agent, Monkey Island, Grim Fandango, Brutal Legend, and Sam & Max.

But my general rule of thumb for “characters that exist somewhere within the background of this story” are any other properties owned by Telltale, Lucasarts, or Double Fine. And considering all of the licensed games that Telltale was getting into before it kicked the bucket, that includes some really weird characters, even up to the Venture Bros. I loved that series, but I’m not really interested in doing anything with them for this story! Partly for my sanity, the canon I’ve picked are already a lot of content to play with. 

ASSORTED QUESTIONS ABOUT THE WILDCARD AU DISCORD

There’s no particular criteria needed to join the discord, and it’s not strictly on a need-to-know basis! Because it’s been a long while since anyone has joined, I've been hesitant about adding new people in... But I‘ve decided to try sending invitations again! Everyone who had asked about it in the past will be getting a ping by me in about a day or so, since I want to double-check if you’re still interested. If you’ve been nervous to ask you can reply to this post or message me privately.

Some things to keep in mind before asking or accepting the invite:

If you’re not a friend or a follower I recognize, I will likely double-check your tumblr along with some other current members before sending the invite. 

Here’s the Rules page, so you know what to expect before you join: 

Be Mindful - Respect other people's boundaries, don't do or say things that would cross the line. If your behavior makes other people feel uncomfortable or unsafe, I will remove you from the chat. In most cases I will try to resolve things with you and offer a chance to do better, but that will depend on the severity of the situation. And if you have any concerns regarding another member of the chat, you can contact me privately.

Health Boundaries - While discussions of mental health do occasionally pop up, do not rely on the chat for help. None of us are equipped to handle serious mental health concerns, and it will only cause distress for everyone. Please seek real help if it is needed! If you rely on people beyond the point that they have asked you to stop, I will remove you from the chat.

NSFW - Generally speaking, try to keep NSFW talk to a minimum. Swearing and humor is fine, but don't get too explicit please! Discussions should usually keep to a PG-13 / occasional R, but no NC-17.

Spoilers & Censorship - Please use the spoiler function to hide story spoilers, as well as discussions and graphic depictions of gore/excessive blood/body horror/severe psychological horror. Include a content warning so that people know what they could potentially be seeing when they click on the censored content. If the spoilered content is the subject of a back-and-forth discussion, please use another warning when you are switching to a different spoilered topic. (Note that these rules were added to the chat later, so be careful when using the search function or back reading.)

The canon series involved with the Wildcard AU are Psychonauts, Puzzle Agent, Monkey Island, Grim Fandango, Brutal Legend, and Sam & Max. Please be mindful of story spoilers!

Channel Organization - Also be mindful of which channel you're in and move a discussion over if need be! That way they don't get too clogged with unrelated info.

Creative Criticism - When it comes to writing, art, or character creation; try to be open to suggestions from others! Nearly all of the creative work in the chat is collaborative, so input from others is important! Creative criticism is not the same as judgement, and is not a personal attack.

Have fun! - Discussions move quickly in this chat! Don't feel bad if you ever need to step back, whether it's because of the speed or a disinterest in whatever current topic we're focusing on. If you ever want to come back, we're happy to have you and can give quick explanations if you feel out of the loop! :thumbsup:

We’re a group of approx. a half dozen to a dozen people, either posting very very quickly in a span of a few hours or barely anything for a few days. We’ve been in an activity uptick lately and there’s about a year and half of back content, too. If it’s hard to keep up on, not that interesting to read through, or you just have a hard time gelling with the group that's already there, there’s no shame in just lurking or dipping out if you need to.

We also talk a lot about Psychonauts OCs, so anticipate that.