#uh oh trade secrets that you can see as a customer if you look with your eyes

[cthoniccripple]

IME left handed people get flagged way more often because their right hand will pass over the scanner before the item.

the camera above your head thinks your hand is an unscanned item, and employees with too little time to actually help train the program and use the "unhelpful" button have taught it that it's right.

I can bet $5 that the helpful/unhelpful button for videos is singlehandedly responsible for ruining the algorithm on the Kroger group's machines.

Grocery store self checkout machine when you say a pack of chicken breasts is a single grape: "yeah that looks good to me"

Grocery store self checkout when you try to scan something normally: "I AM SCARED I AM SCARED WHAT IS THAT I DO NOT UNDERSTAND. CHECKOUT ATTENDANT HELP. HELP. I NEED THE AUTHORITIES. COLD. COLD. I CANNOT FEEL MY LEGS."

[sorrownotsexy]

Hi yall !! Thinking about Alejandro in the states. And he meets the love of his life there because she burns his mouth. 

He's homesick. He’s usually away from home but at least he’s in Mexico most of the time. But the states suck and they’re nothing like home. 

He's hungry too. And he’s sick of MREs fast food and hotel breakfast. But a starving man would dirt so he’s walking to the nearest McDonalds when he sees the truck. 

A big ol p30 painted black with rainbow calaveras and a luchador eating a taco. There’s a mom and four kiddos and the truck is bouncing from the people inside? 

The door opens up to a girl looking like a 50’s Cola ad in a long black skirt to her calves and hair braided with a bandana catching sweat in the hot truck, bounding out of the truck to get tackled by the youngest two. She hugged the babies who danced with her to the music that got louder when the door opened. 

La Chona filled his ears and he smiled. That explained the bouncing of the truck the people had been dancing inside. 

The family had been distracted when the girl caught the handsome soldier smiling at her teaching the babies how to step with the music and she burst into embarrassed laughter. 

She got back in the truck and mom moved to let the young man place his order. He stepped up to the window and greeted her with a smile and a “hola señora, buenas tardes-” to be interrupted by her stepping back and giving him a hand motion that said wait.

“Daddy, he speaks spanish” 

“So do you.” the dad replied not giving her any help

“No-”

“Take his order mija he’s gonna leave”

She knew her dad wasn’t going to help her so she turned to the man and smiled apologetically. “Uh lo siento soy no sabo?” she said, searching for the proper response. She was pretty sure she apologized incorrectly.

“Right?” she asked her dad who shrugged and laughed at her struggling. 

“Um qué quieres?”

“I’ll take a number seven” he smiled

The men of the truck roared in laughter “Oh of course” she huffed, frustrated she should have just asked in the first place if he spoke english. She smiled anyway though and asked him about sauces. 

“¿Qué es el asesino?” he asked with a snort

She smiled and leaned down as if it was some big secret “The hottest salsa in the west. Me and my Lita make it ourselves. Supposedly it’s the cause of death for John Disp, a grown man.” she giggled as she finished telling how it got the name.

“Oh now I have to try it.” he grinned

“Ya sure? Don’t wanna ruin your day.”

“I can handle it.” she laughed at him. 

Her brother packed the man's five tacos, rice, beans and fork with the killer salsa for him. She gave him one last warning and he laughed it off so she traded him the dish in exchange for twelve dollars. 

He sat down to eat his food feeling less homesick seeing a big family when he felt eyes on him. All eight members of the family were watching him waiting for the first bite with salsa, the girl standing with an extra large cup of horchata over ice. He laughed to himself and took the bite. 

Just to be cocky he piled a lot on his first bite “¡CHINGADA MADRE!” and the whole family cackled. The girl went up to him holding the horchata which he all but snatched to drink down. 

Still laughing and wiping tears the girl asked if he’d like some sour cream “Yes! Fuck, now!” he was breathing through his mouth and had tears rise. 

One of the babies came up with a small lidded container of sour cream which he snatched to let melt on his tongue. Another one of the babies brought him napkins. He wiped his nose and took another swig of horchata. He was fine after that but the sting was still there. 

The mom took the kids back in the car after and the brother and dad went back to the truck. “What in the fuck do you even put in that? Jesus.” 

She laughed, wiping more tears “I grow the serranos and cilantro” she said a little proudly.

“Oh so they’re bred to kill?” 

“Something like that” she smiled but had to head back to the truck as a new customer appeared. 

The colonel finished his meal being mindful of how heavy he placed the salsa on his food. When the other customer was sitting eating their food he placed a put in the tip jar. “Para la horchata.” and left back to his hotel with a full stomach and a smile.

[baepsaesbae]

Heal Me, Kill Me Ch.3

Pairing— Kim Taehyung x reader

Genre— Vampire! Tae x Vampire Hunter! y/n, ANGST, Smut +18, fluff

Warnings— Oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, being tied up, Dom!Taehyung, ass eating

Word Count— 6.6k

Summary— You’re one of the best vampire hunters in the world. That’s to be expected when your parents are the best of the best. Your life had solely revolved around ruthlessly killing vampires. You were essentially a cold blooded machine. However, things take a turn once you meet Kim Taehyung, your latest target.

“When will I see you next, dear?” Taehyung asked as he walked you back to your car.

“When would you wanna see me?” you replied.

“Honestly, I’d never want you to leave. I’d selfishly keep you all to myself,” Taehyung lightly pinned you against your car door. 

“Maybe one day you could,” you say, wrapping your arms around him.

Taehyung planted soft kisses on both of your cheeks. You pulled him in for a deep kiss right as he began to step away. One hand cupped his cheek while the other got lost in the tresses of his long dark hair. Taehyung reciprocated your neediness as he roughly grabbed your ass. 

“I still need to repay you for the other day,” he seductively whispered.

“I’ll remember that for the next time,” you winked, “Meet at the flower shop tomorrow?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Taehyung gave you a final goodbye kiss.

The drive back was awful. You were torn. Torn between duty and passion. It was your duty to kill Taehyung, but your newfound empathy kept you from doing so. Even when Taehyung was on the brink of death, you couldn’t commit to your plan. 

Telling yourself that you needed to know the truth behind your parents’ death was just an excuse. Of course you want to know the details of what happened, but that’s not what stopped you from killing Taehyung. 

You just...couldn’t. You didn’t want to. Maybe there could be a way to fake his death? It could create the perfect cover to run away together. Maybe he could live with you in secret. Well, he probably wouldn’t appreciate the fact that you kill his brethren for a living. 

You have a month before Yoongi contacts you again. He’d know something is up by then. You’ve never taken longer than a month on a mission. Thinking about all this gave you a headache. 

You decide to do the responsible thing. You’re going to enjoy the month you have with Taehyung and worry about all of your problems when you can no longer run from them. Aside from the moral dilemma of having to exterminate your boyfriend, you actually felt happy. It felt nice having someone by your side. 

You fantasized about seeing the world with Taehyung. You wanted him to teach you more about plants, cook for you, and maybe most importantly, love you. The concept of love had been completely foreign to you. However, being with Taehyung sparked something you’ve never quite felt before. Was it simply the mortifying ordeal of being truly known by someone else? Or was it the acceptance and appreciation for the real you? Maybe it was a combination of both.

You hopped into the shower before your thoughts became too philosophical. You set your phone’s speaker on full volume and sang along to your favorite songs. TWICE had the best songs to sing and dance to in the shower (dancing in the shower can be dangerous, but you like living life on the edge). 

Being emotionally exhausted allowed you to fall asleep quickly. You woke up the next day feeling refreshed after a much needed good night’s sleep. Pairing a black maxi dress with a knitted cardigan, you felt cute and comfy. 

Biking to the shop was a simplicity that you enjoyed. It was relaxing, the scenery was gorgeous, and the simple act of biking to work made you feel like a normal person. There was a new shipment of flowers that arrived, along with a fresh set of bouquet orders. 

‘To keep you busy while your target takes his time, thanks flower girl :)’ was scribbled on a note atop the orders.

You rolled your eyes, silently cursing Yoongi. Thank god Taehyung was coming today, you could put him to work. You began to fill up multiple vases with water and plant food, humming as you worked. 

“Good morning ___,” a deep voice sang out as soon as the door opened.

“Morning dear! You’re in a good mood today,” you spun around to greet him.

“Of course, because I get to see you! I see you’re prepping vases. Do we have more orders to fill?” he asked excitedly.

“Indeed we do! I’m glad you’re excited about it,” you handed him the stack of orders. 

You admire Taehyung’s sharp yet delicate features as he glossed through the orders. His mouth moved silently as he read the order descriptions to himself.

“Do you only take orders for funerals?” he asked when he finished.

“Huh?” you were taken by surprise.

“It just seems like all of the bouquet orders contain flowers that symbolize sympathy in some way. Lilies, carnations, and especially chrysanthemums. In most European cultures, chrysanthemums are only used for funerals,” he explained. 

“I have no idea what these bouquets are for. I, well I guess we, merely fulfill the orders,” you shift uncomfortably. 

Taehyung was remarkably sharp. You remembered that Yoongi said these flowers are for the families who have been victimized by vampires. 

“Ah, okay. I was just curious. Let’s get to work, love. Can you bring me pink carnations and lilies please?” he asked.

The day was filled with nonstop preparations. You tied decadent bows around the vases that were finished as Taehyung arranged the most beautiful bouquets you’ve ever seen. He shyly explained that he loved art in all forms, and bouquet making was its own special artform.

“I used to paint a lot as a hobby,” Taehyung admitted.

“Why’d you stop?” you asked.

“I had no more inspiration. No muse, I guess you could say,” he said sadly.

“Do you still have your paintings? I’d like to see them.”

“They’re hidden away somewhere in my house, but I’ll dig them back up for you. It might make me a little sad though. I miss painting.”

“Why don’t you pick it back up? It doesn’t matter if you have a muse or not, just paint whatever comes to mind,” you shrugged.

Taehyung looks at you, visibly amused, “What do you think I should paint?”

“A dick,” you deadpanned. 

“A what?” Taehyung was shocked.

“A penis,” you cracked a smile.

“___! You’re so vulgar,” Taehyung blushed.

“I’m just kidding! But just for the record, I think your dick is pretty enough to paint,” you smirked.

“You think so?” Taehyung’s voice lowered.

He reached over to cup your cheek before leaning in to give you a quick kiss. Feeling playful, you lightly bit his bottom lip as he pulls away. Taehyung’s eyes darkened as soon as you did that.

“Someone is feeling bold,” Taehyung tsked before pulling you into him.

Grabbing you by the ass, he hoists you up and sets you on the counter. He harshly kissed you as you wrapped your legs around his waist, begging him to get closer. Taehyung kissed up and down your neck, before harshly sucking on it. The sudden pain caused you to cry out and squirm, but Taehyung’s firm grip prevented your escape. Taehyung chuckled at your response.

“Don’t think you can get away with being cheeky with me, darling,” he cooed in your ear.

His hand slipped between your thighs, his cold fingers lightly inching closer to your core. 

“Taehyung…” your voice trailed off.

“Yes, darling? What do you need?” he teased.

“I need you to--”

The front door chimed, interrupting you. Taehyung dragged you off of the counter with inhuman speed, spinning you back to your spot with the bows. The quick force made you dizzy, but you were grateful for it. It would have been embarrassing for a customer to catch you in such a compromising position.

“Hello again dear,” a familiar voice called out to you. 

You turn to see elderly couple smiling at you from the front of the shop. The elderly woman was waving at you.

“Good morning! How are you two? Here for your roses again?” you politely welcomed them in.

Taehyung is smirking to himself as the conversation continued. You wanted to hit him for being so brazen. The elderly couple updated you on their bakery, saying that next time they’ll bring you fresh goods. You laughed and told them you would gladly trade flowers for their baked goods. 

“Who is that handsome boy over there? Is that your lover?” the elderly woman whispered to you. 

“Oh, I uh, I guess you could say that. That’s my boyfriend,” you blushed, suddenly becoming shy.

“Wow you hit the jackpot, girl,” the elderly man remarked, “That boy might very well be the most handsome young man I’ve ever seen in my life. Besides myself of course.”

The couple laughed and you couldn’t help but join in. Taehyung shyly looked over and respectfully bowed. You could tell he reverted back to his timid and stoic state. You had forgotten how standoffish he was around new people. 

The elderly couple happily left with their regular bouquet of roses. Taehyung’s tension melted away as soon as they left the store. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself, they seemed sweet,” Taehyung apologized.

“Don’t worry about it. They’re the only customers I’ve ever had here. I guess the shop makes its money from all of these orders,” you resumed tying bows.

Taehyung’s smirk crept back onto his face as he snuck a glance at you.

“What?” you asked with annoyance. 

“Nothing.”

“Taehyung.”

“That’s me.”

“What are you smirking at?” you asked.

“Maybe you should look in a mirror,” he suggested. 

Horrified, you whipped out your phone. At first, you didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. There was nothing weird on your face. But then you saw it. A huge hickey was showcased in the middle of your neck. It was impossibly dark and its sheer size had you in awe. At first you were impressed, but then the dismay set in when you realized that the elderly couple must have seen it. No matter how blind they were, there was no way they could miss that. 

“Taehyung, you asshole!” you scolded him.

“Did you not enjoy receiving that?” he questioned.

“I did, but I didn’t want to show it off to my only customers!” you cried out.

“I’m sure they had their fair share of fooling around when they were younger,” Taehyung teased as he took your hand and pulled you closer, “Should we resume where we left off?”

“Can you remind me where we were?” you nipped at his ear. 

“Certainly,” he growled, hoisting you back onto the counter.

Planting kisses across your jawline, his hands spread your legs apart. Again his fingers flitter a trail in your inner thigh. Your neediness caused you to roughly press your lips against his while weaving your fingers in his hair.

His fingers grazed your clothed pussy, causing you to shudder. He lightly teased you, slowly rubbing your clit in a circular motion. 

“Faster,” you begged.

Taehyung obliged, picking up his speed. He applied more pressure, bringing you closer to the edge. Pulling aside your panties, his long fingers ran between your folds. You threw your head back in pure bliss.

He slowly inserted a finger into you, relishing your moans as he got deeper. You were so wet that he easily added a second finger. He took his time entering your pussy.

“You’re so warm, darling. And so wet. Is this all for me?” he gazed into your eyes.

“Yes, Taehyung. Oh mm,” was all you could say before trailing off into a moan when his pace picked up.

His fingers curled to hit your g spot with each pump. It was getting too intense, and your breaths became quick and shallow. You were right on the edge when Taehyung removed his fingers entirely. Your pussy clenched around nothing, and you whined at the sudden emptiness.

“Can I taste you, dear?” Taehyung asked.

You quickly nodded, desperate to get to your high. If Taehyung reduced you to this much of a mess with just his fingers, you could only imagine what his mouth could do. 

Taehyung buried himself under your dress, draping the fabric around his head. At first you couldn’t help but giggle. It looked a little silly, like he was hiding under your dress. Your giggle was replaced by a gasp when his tongue made contact.

He began lightly licking stripes through your folds, flicking your clit with his tongue each time. His tongue took its time exploring your intimate area, flattening out in order to gain the most coverage. 

His attention was then focused solely on your clit. He circled it with his tongue before gently sucking on it. The new sensation made you cry out even louder, but your voice hitched when he plunged two fingers back into you. 

The knot in your abdomen returned as your grip on Tae’s hair tightened. His free hand kept your legs spread open as you began to thrash around when your climax got closer. Taehyung was now moving his fingers at an inhuman pace, and his tongue was getting rougher on your clit. 

You let out a final cry as you release all over Taehyung, the intensity hitting you like a truck. You’ve never had an orgasm like this before. You were panting hard to catch your breath while Taehyung appeared from under your dress.

His face was glistening with your juices. He shot you a smug smile before wiping his face with the back of his hand. He seductively licked your essence off of his own hand. If you weren’t so spent, you would have immediately jumped on his dick after seeing that. 

“Did I satisfy you, ___?” Taehyung questioned.

“I believe so,” you exhale, “The evidence is all over your face. Wait, I think it’s on your forehead?” 

“Probably. I’m pretty sure you squirted. The inside of your dress is a mess,” Taehyung shrugged.

You hopped off the counter and sure enough, there was a puddle on the counter. Your dress was also a wet mess. A random passerby would have thought you wet yourself. You were flustered by the thought.

“I made quite the mess, huh,” you sighed.

“That’s my fault. Should I never repeat that mistake?” Taehyung playfully jabbed.

“I never said that,” you replied defensively, “But now I have to clean that up.”

“Can I help?” he offered.

“You can help by finishing the rest of the orders. I can take a few days off when all the orders have been fulfilled,” you suggested.

“A few days? Would you be free to spend those days with me?”

“What else would I do?”

Taehyung got back to work quickly. You chuckled at his diligence. To your surprise, Taehyung managed to complete the orders by the end of the day. He loaded up the cart by himself and hauled it over to the post office in record time. No doubt the postal workers were in awe at his sheer strength when they saw him single handedly bring drag the full cart. 

“So, are you free tomorrow?” Taehyung asked shyly when he returned.

“I think my schedule just cleared up. Why do you ask?” you played along.

“Would you like to come over and have a day on the lake with me? I can fish while you nap alongside me,” he suggested.

“Lemme think about it,” you pretended to mull it over, “I guess you convinced me. I’ll come over around 10? Or is that too early?”

“It’s never too early for you, darling. The best fishing happens around dawn anyway,” Taehyung replied.

“You want me to come around dawn?” your eyes widened.

“That would probably be too early huh? We can do something else instead then. Wanna be lazy and watch Netflix?”

“I thought you didn’t like technology,” you teased.

“I don’t. But I enjoy lounging around with you. And you got me hooked on Marco Polo.”

“Hell yeah I did. Just wait till you see Peaky Blinders!” you beamed enthusiastically.

“Can’t wait. I’ll see you tomorrow then?” he asked as you both stood outside the shop.

“Yes sir. It’s a date,” you nodded.

You found yourself waking up early the next morning, the excitement of seeing Taehyung made you restless. Was his hold over you that powerful? Or perhaps it was something else that had him never leaving your mind? Those questions swam in the back of your head as you picked out your outfit for the day. 

With your laptop bag in tow, you hopped into your car. It was around 8am by now. It was by no means the crack of dawn, however it was early enough for you to lull back to sleep if Taehyung really wanted to go fishing.

The sun was blocked by a thick wall of dark clouds, which was the normal weather in this area for some reason. Even without the sun shining down on you, a faint warmth hugged your body as you approached Taehyung’s house (and no, it wasn’t humidity). This feeling was new, and you couldn’t quite place it. It was as if the sheer buzz from your romantic feelings kept your cheeks warm 24/7. 

The front door swung open immediately after your first knock.

“___! Good morning, my darling. You’re here early,” Taehyung greeted you.

“I woke up early and decided it wouldn’t hurt to show up a bit earlier. Do you still wanna go fishing?” you asked.

“We can certainly try, if you’d like. We can have fish for lunch if I catch anything,” Taehyung pondered.

“I can potentially try more of your cooking? In that case, I definitely want to try,” you piped up.

Taehyung nodded in agreement. He helped you put your stuff away before disappearing to gather fishing supplies. In his absence, you blankly stared at the table where you tried to poison him just a few days prior. Was it a mistake to change your mind? If it was wrong to let him live, why did it feel so right to be with him?

“I got everything! Did you want to fish too? I only have one rod, but we can share,” Taehyung called out, snapping you away from your thoughts. 

“I’m fine with sharing. I’ll take a nap if I get bored,” you smiled at him.

You carried the fishing rod to the lake alongside Taehyung, much to his chagrin. He argued that he was more than capable of carrying everything by himself, but you claimed that you would feel useless if you didn’t help him. He let you carry the lightest item as a compromise. 

 Taehyung easily guided the little boat to the middle of the river. The shores were barely visible in all directions. It would be incredibly easy for either of you to dispose of the other. His back was turned to you as he cast off his line. A simple flick of your wrist and Taehyung’s head would be lost in the lake. Your body tensed up at the thought.

“Isn’t this scene so serene?” Taehyung broke the silence.

Your gaze moved from his back to the calm waters. It was indeed beautiful. Fog rolled along the surface of the lake, making it even harder to see the shoreline. Normally this would be perceived as eerie, but it was oddly romantic to you. 

Your body relaxed as you rest your head against Taehyung’s firm back. This predicament you were in was silly. Maybe if you came clean to Yoongi he’d support you. Afterall, he wanted you to have a normal life. Being with Taehyung for the last few weeks has made you feel like that kind of life was possible. 

“It’s beautiful, Taehyung. Like you,” you responded, hugging him from behind. 

“You think I’m beautiful?” he was amused.

“Of course I do. But so would anyone who’s ever seen you.”

“Your opinion is the only one that matters to me, ___. Thank you. You are the most stunning creature I have ever laid my eyes upon,” Taehyung happily hummed. 

“You’re too sweet. I feel so at peace right now. I think I’m gonna fall asleep,” you yawned.

“Go ahead, darling. This may take awhile,” Taehyung chuckled. 

You succumb to slumber almost instantly. It was an enjoyable nap until your dreams turned odd. You were enveloped in darkness, shivering. You gasped for air but to no avail as you struggled to breathe. 

“I wish I didn’t have to do this,” you heard a faint voice say.

“Tae? Taehyung are you there?” you cried out.

You abruptly woke up with a gasp, your sudden movement rocked the tiny boat.

“___? Are you okay?” Taehyung turned around to comfort you.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I guess I had a bad dream,” you replied.

“What did you dream about?”

“I’m not sure. It was weird. I couldn’t see anything, but I was extremely cold. And there was this voice. It kind of sounded like yours but I can’t really remember,” you shivered.

“Well, you’re okay now, darling. I’ll make sure no one can ever hurt you,” Taehyung reassured you, “Good news, I managed to catch 3 fish! They’re a pretty good size.”

Taehyung triumphantly showed you his catches. He was right. The fish were pretty sizable. You couldn’t wait to eat whatever he cooks up with them. 

You tried to shake off the uneasiness from your dream. Luckily, Taehyung distracted you on the way back. He started humming a tune, which soon turned into a song.

“I still wonder, wonder, beautiful story,” Taehyung sang aloud.

  His voice was captivating. You’ve never heard a voice so angelic before. His song calmed your nerves almost instantly. 

“I didn’t know you could sing. What can’t you do?” you asked in awe as you entered his home. 

“I just dabble in it. I have many hobbies. Like painting, as I mentioned before,” Taehyung admitted.

“You say you like to paint, but as soon as we have a painting date, you’re gonna reveal that you’re the next Monet or some shit,” you shook your head.

“I’m happy you hold me in such high regard, darling. I’ll admit that I’m a better cook than I am an artist,” he chuckled as he began prepping the kitchen.

“Oooh I can’t wait! Do you need any help?” you asked.

“No, I think I can handle it on my own darling. You just relax and keep me company, okay?” he made eye contact with you.

You smiled and complied with his request. You never grew tired of conversing with him. Before you knew it, the dish was complete. The fish were filleted in the most ornate manner, with a skill level on par with Gordon Ramsay. The taste was even more exquisite than the appearance. You’ve never foodgasmed before, but this dish just did you in. Taehyung gave you a boxy smile when you praised his food. 

The remainder of the month was filled with days similar to this one. As promised, you helped Taehyung tend to his garden as he gave you advice on how to not be a plant killer. One day, you surprised him with a painting date. You brought over small canvases and paints, only to find out that Taehyung has his own studio set up in one of the many rooms in his humble abode. Nonetheless, he was delighted by the surprise (turns out he also really was the next Monet, his paintings were incredible). 

You also began to spend the night at his place. You made it a habit to bring an extra set of clothes to leave in your car just in case. Taehyung even got you your own toothbrush to leave at his place (how romantic). 

Tonight marked the two month anniversary of you two meeting each other. Taehyung wanted to commemorate this day instead of the day you guys actually started dating. You thought it was odd, but you didn’t argue against it. 

He surprised you with an extravagant bouquet that he arranged himself. Dressed up in a suit and treated you to dinner at the fanciest restaurant in town. You dressed up too, the clothing was reminiscent of how you dressed on previous missions. 

You honestly forgot that you were on a job. You were too busy living out the life of your dreams. A normal one with the bonus of being in love with a gorgeous man who happened to love you back. The thought that your month of peace was nearly over crept up on you while you were getting ready. You pushed the thought away immediately. You still had time to live out your fantasy, even if it was fleeting. 

Your red velvet dress dipped scandalously low on your chest, and it hugged your curves promiscuously. Taehyung’s jaw dropped and transformed into a smirk as soon as he picked you up. 

The meal at the restaurant was good, but you both knew that Taehyung could cook a better one. But it was nice to go out for a change. You could feel eyes on you during the entire evening, but you weren’t sure if people were staring at you or your date. After all, your date’s appearance rivaled that of the gods.

“Did you enjoy your meal, darling?” Taehyung asked as the waitress took away the plates. You noticed that she took every opportunity she could to interact with him, such as filling up his water every time he would take a sip. You were going to say something, but decided against it since you couldn’t really blame her. 

“I did! I’m stuffed,” you huffed.

“Not yet.”

“Hm?”

“You’re not stuffed yet,” Taehyung repeated himself, then continued to lower his voice, “You look ravishing tonight. You’re always stunning, but tonight I don’t think I can control myself.”

“Who said I want you to?” you teased, leaning over to further expose your cleavage.

“Where the fuck is the check? We need to go immediately,” Taehyung flagged down the waitress.

Taehyung sped all the way back to his mansion. Every bump in the road caused you to squeeze your legs together, increasing your horniness. You tried to get Taehyung to put his hand on your thigh, but he refused. He claimed that if he touched you now, he’d have to take you then and there.

You couldn’t wait to get to your destination. You and Taehyung shared some sexual encounters, but he insisted on taking things slow. He did not want you to feel pressured to have sex with him (even though you made it clear that you truly wanted it). However, tonight was different. Taehyung would finally have his way with you, just like you’ve been wanting since you laid eyes on him.

He carried you bridal style all the way up to his room. He roughly threw you onto the bed, causing you to giggle.

“Get your giggles out now, love. I promise you, you won’t be laughing for the rest of the night,” Taehyung growled with a tone you haven’t heard before. 

You pulled him into bed with you, your lips locking into a passionate kiss. Hands began to wander as the kiss deepened. As tongues delved into foreign mouths, articles of clothing were being stripped off. You tossed off Taehyung’s suit jacket and began to unbutton his shirt. Taehyung grew impatient and ripped your dress in half. You whined in protest since you actually liked that dress, to which Taehyung laughed and promised to get you another. 

Now both in your underwear, Taehyung stopped to gaze at your nearly naked body. Your matching black lingerie made you look sinful, and Taehyung was ready to indulge. Your hand lightly grasped his bulge before it was swatted away. 

“Nuh uh, babygirl. You obey me. You are only to do what you’re told. Understand?” Taehyung scolded as he tied your wrists together with a rope you didn’t realize he had nearby. 

“Yes sir,” you responded. His dominance made you wet before he even touched you there.

“Good girl. Flip over,” he demanded. 

You followed his order, rolling over to lay on your arms and knees. You propped your ass out for him, wiggling it around playfully. A harsh slap stung your bottom, causing you to yelp out in pain.

Taehyung pulled down your panties, running a finger through your slick folds. He teased your clit, rubbing it in circles agonizingly slowly. Before you could complain, he licked a long and flat stripe along your pussy. His tongue swirled and flicked at a euphoric pace that had you seeing stars. He inserted two fingers into your soaked pussy as his tongue traveled to your ass.

You gasped at the new sensation, you’ve never had your ass eaten before. You tingled in new places as his tongue explored the intimate region. His fingers curled in you as he pumped them into you. You felt your climax build up as your pussy began to clench.

“Cum for me, babygirl,” Taehyung ordered, increasing his pace. 

The control he had over your body was incredible. You had an intense orgasm as soon as he uttered those words. Your body shook under him as you released the knot that formed in your lower abdomen. 

Taehyung flipped you onto your back with ease. Your chest was heaving and you tried to catch your breath.

“I think you’re wet enough for me now,” Taehyung smiled as he finally tugged off his underwear. 

You eagerly spread your legs open for him, signaling that you were ready. Taehyung relished the sight. He rubbed his cock along the folds of your pussy, hitting your clit with every stroke. You were oversensitive from your orgasm, which made you cry out each time he played with your clit.

“Are you ready, baby?” Taehyung teased your entrance with his tip.

“Please fuck me already. I can’t take your teasing any longer,” you begged.

Taehyung happily obliged. He took his time entering you, enjoying your drawn out moans. He let out a low groan when he finally bottomed out. He filled you up perfectly. He lingered in that position for a little too long. You had the silly idea of being cheeky.

“I guess you could say that I’m stuffed now,” you smirked.

“You haven’t felt anything yet,” Taehyung scoffed as he finally began to move.

His thrusts were powerful, allowing his dick to hit you in all the right places each time. Your moans were getting louder with every second. Your tied hands reached between your thighs, but Taehyung harshly grabbed your wrists.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” Taehyung admonished. 

As punishment, he pinned your tied up hands above your head as he began to pound into you mercilessly. You were lost in pure bliss when he did what you were trying to do earlier. He applied the perfect amount of pressure to your clit to make you go wild. Your body began to quiver again under him.

“Let’s finish together,” Taehyung panted. He was close. 

“Taehyung, I love you,” you made eye contact with him.

That sent him over the edge. The sincerity mixed with lust in your eyes was the final straw. He released his hot load into you as you also surrendered to your pleasure. 

“Now I would say that you’re stuffed,” Taehyung joked as he leaned over to kiss your forehead, “I love you too, ___. So much. More than you could ever fathom. In a way, you saved my life.”

“I did?” you were still out of it from your two intense orgasms.

“You did. But we can talk about that another day. I’ll get something to clean you up,” he chuckled. 

You were already asleep by the time he returned with a towel. He smiled to himself, wondering how you can go from sinfully seductive one second to downright adorable to the next. Taehyung happily cuddled up next to you and soon followed suit in slumber.

You had to return back to your house the next day. You stupidly forgot your laptop charger and Taehyung was whining because he wanted to watch Peaky Blinders. Taehyung dropped you off and waved cutely as you left the car. You promised that you’d watch the show with him the next day. 

The moment you stepped foot into your cottage you noticed something was off. The door gave way too easily, and the aura had changed. The once peaceful atmosphere of your safe haven had been replaced by an eerie stillness. It was akin to the silence before a major storm. 

You silently surveyed the immediate surroundings as you closed the door behind you. You knew you weren’t alone. Acting as if nothing was wrong, you casually walked to the bedroom. The intruder was watching you intently. 

You stretched nonchalantly, in hopes of luring the intruder out. It worked. A rustle of movement was heard behind you, allowing you to easily evade the attack. In a motion almost unseen to the human eye, you had your attacker pinned to the ground with a knife at their throat (it’s good practice to always keep a weapon on you in this profession). 

“I really thought I had you that time,” your attacker sighed.

“Jungkook? What the fuck are you doing here?” you angrily questioned, tilting his chin up with your blade. 

“I could ask the same thing,” he retorted, unfazed by the knife at his throat, “What the fuck have you been doing here for the past two months, ___?”

“I’m on a mission. Is that a problem?” you masked your alarm.

“It is if you refuse to kill your target. I’ve been tailing you for the past week. You’ve had so many chances to finish that thing off, yet here we are,” he replied smugly.

“Did Yoongi send you?”

“Who else?”

“Go back and tell him that I’m working on it.”

“You want me to lie?” Jungkook dramatically dropped his jaw.

That angered you, causing you to apply just enough pressure with the knife to break his skin. A line of blood trickled down the blade.

“Why did you choose to reveal yourself now?” you snarled.

“I got bored. Tracking you is boring. Watching you pretend to be in love with that thing is boring. I came to give you an ultimatum. Either you kill it, or I will. That thing killed your parents, ___. You have to remember that it’s a monster,” Jungook challenged you, “Guess little Miss Number One is finally slipping.”

“Fuck you. All those years of chasing after my ass finally getting to you? Second best isn’t such a bad thing.” you mocked.

“Fuck me? If you insist,” Jungkook winked, “You know, this position is kinda hot. You into knife play?”

“Shut up, Jungkook,” you say in disgust, finally releasing your hold on him.

You sit on the bed, watching Jungkook as he paced around your room. Processing his ultimatum had you in a trance. By now, you had no chance of killing Taehyung. You foolishly fell in love with him. 

However, you didn’t think Jungkook would be able to win in a fight against Taehyung. Jungkook is too brash, and Taehyung is too powerful despite his atypical behavior. Even if Taehyung killed Jungkook, that would only cause more problems. The VEC would be even more eager to exterminate him, and will probably send multiple teams in to do the job. Maybe you could convince Yoongi to call it off. Maybe, by some miracle, he would listen to you.

“___? ___? Yoohoo. If you’re gonna ignore me, you should at least stop staring at my dick,” Jungkook stood before you.

“Huh?” you were pulled out of your daze and looked up at him , “Oh. Don’t flatter yourself, Jungkook. I wouldn’t stare at your shrimp dick even if my life was on the line.”

“My Jungcock is the size of a jumbo shrimp, thanks for noticing,” Jungkook grinned.

“God, you’re so disgusting,” you rolled your eyes.

“And yet the vamp ladies can’t get enough of me. They’re willing to die for this dick,” Jungkook nodded.

“I don’t think they’re exactly willing, but sure. Do me a favor, go back to Yoongi and tell him that the job is done,” you say quietly.

“Oh? You’re gonna kill your lover boy?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow. 

“Duh. It’s my job. It’s just been hard to find an opening--”

“Bullshit. I told you, you’ve had numerous openings. You just refuse to take any of them for some reason. Don’t tell me that you’ve actually gotten attached to your target,” Jungkook said in disbelief.

You remained quiet, avoiding eye contact. There was no use in lying, Jungkook would see right through you.

“Holy shit, ___. You dumb bitch,” Jungkook laughed.

“I told you that I would handle it. Just go tell Yoongi that the job is done,” you pleaded.

“And get chewed out in your place? No thank you,” Jungkook sat beside you, “So, what happened?”

You tell him everything. Despite him being a dick, Jungkook was probably the closest thing you had to a friend. He was orphaned due to a vampire attack, so the VEC took him in. You’ve been rivals since you were kids. 

“Sounds like you might actually have real feelings for this thing,” Jungkook said after hearing you out.

“He’s not a thing, his name is Taehyung,” you admonished, “But yes, I think I actually am in love. I fucked up big time, Jungkook,” you exhaled in exasperation. 

“Feels bad man,” Jungkook shook his head, “Major F.”

“Ok thanks for your sympathy,” you huffed.

“You still have to kill him. You know that right?”

“I know. It’s just going to be really hard,” you fought back tears.

Jungkook watched you struggle to hold everything in. He pulled you in for a hug. You suddenly let it all out, crying into his chest. Everything came crashing down. You have to fulfill your mission. Even if you failed, the VEC would pursue Taehyung relentlessly. You owe it to him to give him a peaceful death. 

Your special poison. That’s how you’ll do it. Once he’s immobile, you’ll be able to behead him in one quick motion, making it virtually painless for him. But god, it’s gonna hurt like hell for you.

“Do it the next time you meet him. If you don’t, I’ll kill him myself,” Jungkook said after you finished crying. He said it in a tone that let you know that it’s not a threat, but rather a promise that he’ll back you up. 

You cried yourself to sleep that night. You tried to convince yourself that Taehyung was just a monster that charmed you to bend to his will. You tried to believe that he doesn’t actually love you. You tried to believe that everything was a lie. 

But you just couldn’t. 

You didn’t want to think about how tomorrow will be the last day you’d ever see him. It would be the last time he would ever hold you in his arms, the last time he’d gaze at you with his beautiful eyes, and the last time he would ever say that he loves you.

You drove to Taehyung’s house the next day, as promised. Taehyung waited for you in his usual spot on the fountain’s edge. His lips curled into a smile as soon as you drove in. God, you’d miss that smile.

He bounded over to you as you parked the car.

“Hello darling! Oh, are you alright?” Taehyung asked with a concerned look when he saw your puffy eyes, “Have you been crying?”

“I got emotional last night. It was stupid. Don’t worry about it,” you faked a smile. 

“It’s not stupid if you cried over it. What upset you?”

“The thought of losing you,” you answered honestly.

“Aw, that’s sweet. Don’t worry, my darling. You won’t be rid of me any time soon,” Taehyung pulls you into a tight embrace to reassure you.

“I hope not,” you quietly replied.

Published October 16, 2020. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2020 Baepsaesbae.

[baepop]

J’aime

You’re the newest hire at a local café and head barista Jeon Jungkook takes you under his wing.

Word Count: 16.2k

Pairing: You x Jungkook

Genre: Slight Fluff, Smut, Angst

A/N:  What’s next? maybe a Taehyung fic to quench my secret thirst?

Part 2 | Part 3

Working at J’aime Café had taught you a valuable lesson: Where there’s high risk, there’s high reward, and in the absence of said reward, there would be unbelievable loss too.

It all started when you finally got around to checking your voicemails one March afternoon and you realized the job you applied to months ago had finally reached out to you for an interview. Since you weren’t always the best at keeping track of these things, and noticing the voicemail was now a week old, you quickly paused your show and checked the time. Two o’ clock, still during business hours.

The phone rang twice before a courteous voice responded to your call. “J’aime Café, how can I help you?”

“Yes, hello! My name is Y/N and I applied for the barista position. The manager reached out to me for an interview last week. I was wondering if it was possible to come by sometime soon for an interview?” You held your breath and crossed your fingers, hoping they wouldn’t turn you away because you were so late on responding.

“Ahh, Y/N! Yes of course, can you come by this afternoon? If not, then we can do your interview maybe… Wednesday morning?”

“Today’s perfect! Thank you so much!” You couldn’t hide your excitement and gratitude but made a mental note to be more professional in person.

The manager chuckled at your glee and ended the phone call with a simple “See you soon.”

The café was only a 15-minute walk away, so you weren’t in a rush to get ready. You spent the next half hour or so trying to decide what to wear. Dress for the job you want, not for the job you have. That’s what you’d always heard growing up, but if that was actually the case, you’d be walking over there dressed in a cop uniform. You sighed and placed your hands on your hips. What was that other piece of advice about job interviews? Oh yeah, dress as if you already work there so they can better picture you as an employee. Since the coffee shop was small, you had only ever seen three people working there total including the manager and they always had on jeans and knitted sweaters or some variation of that, so you ultimately decided to trade your pencil skirt for black jeans and your heels for boots. You kept your pretty pink blouse on though. Good first impressions are always important. If there was anything that worried you in these situations, it was being forgettable.

You checked your ponytail for any fly away hairs then headed off towards the café. As you walked past the park near your house, you rehearsed your replies to general interview questions. So why do you want to work here? I have plenty of experience in customer service and feel I could bring great things to the table as an employee here. Do you have experience handling money? Yes, yes, I do. I have worked with countless POS systems as well so I’m sure I can learn yours very quickly.

You were so busy interrogating yourself that you didn’t notice or thank the person holding the door open for you once you arrived at the coffee shop. You stood in the lobby, searching for the manager. When you realized you were accidentally standing in line, you rushed to get out of the way. You clutched your handbag with clammy hands as you observed your surroundings anxiously. It’s just an interview, most likely informal, given the setting. You got this. Don’t sweat it.

You’d never realized how busy it could get here, seeing the huge line of customers that had accumulated. When you looked behind the bar, you realized there was only one employee back there. You didn’t want to bother him inquiring about the manager, since they were already so busy, so you found a stool to sit on and wait patiently.

As you watched the cashier ring customers up, you were impressed by his cheery disposition and professionalism despite having so many drinks lined up and no barista. Thankfully for you and the cashier, only about 2 minutes had passed by before two employees came out of the back room. They seemed to be in a heated discussion, but upon closer look, it was more playful than anything. The one with earrings and hand tattoos was tying on his apron while smirking and nodding at the older one holding a clip board. In an incredible show of annoyance, the barista walked away mid conversation and began making all the drinks that were backed up, making sure to slam the doors and cups obnoxiously. However, he was able to do so many things at once that it was no time at all before he cleared the crowd of people waiting on their orders.

You were in such awe at the barista’s sheer talent that you almost forgot why you were there in the first place. It wasn’t until the man with the clip board stood in the way of your eyesight that you realized you had a mission. As you stared up at the stranger, you had to think for a second what it was that he had just asked you.

“Are you Y/N by any chance?”

“Oh uh, yeah! Hi, are you the manager?” You wiped your hand on your thigh and went in for a handshake.

“Yes, I am,” he shook your hand firmly, “Thank you for coming in so soon. As you can see, we really need some new employees around here!” The manager, whom you presumed to be Mr. Kim noted on his nametag, raised his voice towards the end of his sentence so that the barista could hear from behind the bar. Seeing the guy with tattoos chuckle at his boss’ cheeky behavior had a calming effect on you.

The interview went extremely well, so well that it only lasted 10 minutes before you got a job offer. You accepted it right away of course, considering there was only $3.79 in your bank account, so you showed up to the coffee shop first thing in the morning the very next day.

You were excited and confident yet nervous. You had worked plenty of jobs to put you at ease with customer interaction, but never at a coffee shop. You didn’t know the first thing about making specialty drinks or brewing coffee for that matter. You’d simply always been a tea person.

The manager asked you to come in once the café opened, so you were there just as the cashier was unlocking the front door. He held it open for you just as you entered and offered you a dazzling smile.

“Hey, you’re the new hire, right? My name’s Hoseok, but you can call me Hobi! You’re going to be shadowing me today.”

“Yes, hi,” you weren’t sure why you were blushing, maybe because he already knew who you were, “um where can I put my stuff?”

“Oh, we have cubbies in the back office. Just find an empty one then come meet me out here when you’re ready. Oh, and grab an apron and a hat while you’re back there.” You hurried to do exactly as he said, determined to do a good job on your first day. Everyone seemed so capable and diligent, you didn’t want to come off as a newbie at all.

You noticed the cubbies immediately as you stepped into the back. You put your sweater and satchel in one of the cubes next to one that housed a leather jacket and an iPhone. Since you saw another cube filled, you wondered if the handsome barista would be working today too. You forced yourself not to think about that for now, you didn’t want to be distracted on your first day. Once you found the extra aprons and hats, you headed to the front of the shop where customers had already begun ordering. You rushed to the cashier’s side to observe him as he took orders and wrung them into the touch screen accordingly. The same scenario played out from the day before: Customers began crowding the end of the bar, checking their watches impatiently and wondering where the hell their drinks were. You began getting nervous, hoping no one would complain to you. You had no idea what to say to them.

As if sensing your anxiety, Hobi finished wringing up the last customer in line before turning to you and saying, “Don’t worry, he always does this. Why? No idea, but Jungkook’ll be in any second now to make these. He has to anyway, because neither of us have been trained on making drinks!” Hobi laughed and patted you on the back before turning towards the crowd of people that had just walked in. You laughed along nervously, checking the door for the boy with the tattoos.

Thankfully, thirty seconds later, the infamous barista barged in through the door and b-lined it to the back to grab an apron. “Oh, shit! Here’s my phone! I thought I lost it! Thank god!” Jungkook yelled at no one in particular and you giggled at the theatrics that could be heard from the entire shop. On his way to the bar, he eyed you briefly but didn’t say anything, choosing instead to greet the regulars.

“Ahh, there he is! The resident rockstar is gracing us with his presence! We’re finally gonna get some coffee everyone!” An older man with grey hair and a hoarse voice bellowed out. Jungkook laughed and high fived him over the counter.

“Jerry! You old bastard, still haven’t croaked in your sleep, I see! Vanilla latte with three shots coming right up!” Jungkook began making everyone’s drinks with the same ease as you witnessed the day before. His banter with the older man seemed incredibly inappropriate, but clearly it was okay since his customer replied with booming laughter.

“Nope, not yet son! Still healthy as an ox.”

“Not if you keep having all this caffeine. But it’s not like I’d stop you. I’d miss your wise crackin’ around here.” Jungkook handed him his latte and the older gentleman took a sip.

“Don’t you worry about that, son, even if I did croak, I’d still come back and haunt your ass for making me some god-awful drinks!” Him and Jungkook laughed heartily at his jabs, even gaining chuckles from a few customers as well as from Hobi. “Alright, I’m heading out. See you kids tomorrow morning.” The older man waved at everyone including you and sauntered out of the door.

As you watched Jungkook make the rest of the drinks that were lined up, you noticed he interacted with each and every customer. None of them were as acquainted with him as Jerry was, but they remembered each other’s names at the very least.

You noticed the kind of morning regulars at the cafe were more of the same than anything else. Many of them dawned suits and work uniforms, most likely residents from the area stopping in on their way to work in the neighboring metropolis.

After 9 o’ clock, business severely died down. It was only then that Hobi was able to give you a tour of the café and answer questions you already had.

“Have you ever made coffee before?” Hobi inquired while slapping the top of the brewing machine.

“Uhh…to be honest, no I haven’t,” You noticed Jungkook ‘tsk’ with a side smirk as he wiped down the counter, no doubt listening in on Hobi training you, “I’m more of a tea kind of person.”

The older guy smiled, “That’s okay, it’s pretty easy to learn.” His patience with you made you happy.

“This,” he pointed to the pots with handles, “is where you put the grounded coffee into, then you press the ‘brew’ button, and the coffee begins dripping into these containers that keep the coffee hot. Some people don’t like the fancy shmancy drinks that hot shot over here serves and prefer regular cups of coffee. If you’re on the cash register, then it’ll be your responsibility to serve the regular coffee.” You nodded along with everything he was saying but couldn’t help your small smile at his jab to Jungkook. He moved you two further down and pointed to a contraption you’d never seen before. “This is for ‘pour-over’ coffees. Some people order special coffee blends that we don’t brew in the machine, so whenever that happens you just come over here and put the grounded up coffee in this cone, get some hot water, slowly pour it over the grinds and watch it drip into their cup. Just make sure you don’t forget about it or it’ll overflow.” Hobi mimed all the actions out as he explained the process. It was endearing. You tried your best to retain all the information. After explaining where to find the coffee filters and the cup sleeves from, he decided to give you a break from the information overload. “Here,” Hobi handed you a rag and a bottle of Windex, “why don’t you wipe down the windows outside and then come back and we’ll pick up where we left off.”

You gladly took the cleaning supplies from his hands and went out to the small tables that lined the front of the shop. The entire front was made of glass, so you could still see Hobi and Jungkook from where you were. As you sprayed down the windows, you noticed Jungkook leaning over the bar resting his cheek on his palm and shamelessly staring at you. You swallowed and tried to focus on the task, pretending you didn’t notice him even though the blush on your face told a different story. What’s his freaking deal? Given his demeanor with the employees here and the customers, you wondered if he would start picking on you too, or if he was just straight up flirting. Either way, you didn’t have time for either since you desperately needed to keep this job. When you entered the shop again, you noticed Hobi left to use the bathroom, so you took the chance to make polite conversation with Jungkook.

He had been watching you the entire time that you came in, but still you tried not to acknowledge it and look busy, which was hard because you didn’t know enough to pull that off. You fiddled with the coffee filters before clearing your throat to speak.

“So…your name’s Jungkook, right? How long have you been working here?” You looked over at him innocently. He was leaning on the counter propped up on one elbow with a smile playing at his lips.

After a second, he replied, “Couple months.”

“Oh…but you seem really good at what you do. Did you catch on quickly?”

“Not my first coffee shop, babe.” Your heart skipped a beat at the pet name. Jungkook was eyeing you, probably waiting for your next question, but you weren’t sure what to say. Yep, definitely shameless flirting.

“That’s because he got canned from his last gig for showing up late every day.” Hobi’s voice came from behind you and startled you, but you were grateful for it since you had the perfect exit to this charged moment between you and the bad boy barista.

Jungkook chuckled and responded, “What can I say, your mom just can’t get enough of me in the morning.” Hobi chucked an empty cup at Jungkook’s head but the younger boy ducked down slightly and dodged it.

With laughter in his voice, Hobi turned to you. “Come on, Y/N, let’s get you away from this terrible influence.” He stopped at an odd machine with a large hole at the top and a simple lever. “Okay, so now let’s go over how to grind up coffee beans…”

Their banter and the overall atmosphere was infectious, and it had you smiling from ear to ear for no particular reason.

With thirty minutes left to the end of your shift, the café got busy again. When you checked the time, you realized schools in the area had already let students out which would logically explain all the uniformed teenagers in line ordering drinks full of whipped cream and fruit. This time, Hobi let you stay back and fetch any coffee orders that had come in, but hardly any of them wanted regular coffee. During the few times that Hobi handed you empty cups to be filled, you’d hold the lever that allowed coffee to trickle into cups then glance over towards the end of the bar. The scene that unfolded before your eyes had you smiling as if enjoying a private joke. It seemed Jungkook was a hit amongst the local teenage girls. As he handed out fruity drink after fruity drink, they all giggled and thanked him personally. One even took her phone out innocently, but you could tell she was recording him, probably for her Snapchat.

The cafe filled up with students who were in no rush to go home, changing the sleepy ambience of the shop into a rowdy, hip one. Once Hobi wrung up the last person in line, he turned to the barista and said, “Don’t catch a case out here Jungkook. These girls have their hopes up.”

The three of you laughed in unison, but Jungkook looked over at you with a look of offense on his face. “Y/N! Don’t laugh at his jokes! And here I thought you were cool.”

You couldn’t help but giggle like one of the girls on the other side of the counter. “I guess you judged me too quickly, huh.” Hobi gave you a fist bump and chimed in about how you were his new favorite.

As you untied your apron in the backroom, you recapped the day in your head. You were overall satisfied with your first day at your new job. The job seemed easy enough to do, your coworkers were cool, and the customers were more bearable than at some of the other jobs you worked in the past. Sure, there were people here and there that seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed, intent on giving service workers a hard time for things out of their control, but other than that it was a great day. And it absolutely had nothing to do with the head barista flirting with you. Not a single thing.

A whole month had passed before you got your first action on the bar. You had been feeling nervous and hesitant about starting that part of your training, especially seeing the sheer volume of people that order drinks during rush times. You feared you’d only be in Jungkook’s way if you tried to help, so you settled for observing as much as you could. Hobi had been getting his feet wet in that area this past month, so when you learned enough of the register, he’d leave you alone and help Jungkook with backed up drink orders.

Jungkook had taken the time to train Hobi while it was slow, especially since the older boy had already learned everything he could about cashiering. You, on the other hand, were content with wringing up customers and cleaning up after them. However, on this one particular day, Hobi called out of work and Mr. Kim had stepped out to run some errands for the day, so it was just you and Jungkook working at the cafe. Jin had felt confident enough to leave the shop in yours and Jungkook’s hands, and although you were fully capable, you still wished he hadn’t left. If you were being honest with yourself, Jungkook made you nervous. Cute guys made you nervous, and the ones that were both cute and shameless made your hands clammy. He was always respectful with you though, and kept his distance when Hobi wasn’t around, which is why you still hadn’t established a close relationship with Jungkook like you had with Hobi. You knew the older guy’s last name, where he was studying at, what shows he was watching at the moment, what his favorite super villain was; but when it came to Jungkook, he was simply still a beautiful mystery.

After the morning rush, when the café emptied and there was nothing left for the two of you to busy yourselves with, you started to feel awkward again. You weren’t sure how to talk to someone like Jungkook, who was always so blunt and boisterous. You, on the other hand, were reserved and polite. You weren’t exactly shy, you just weren’t sure how to navigate a friendship with him, but you wanted to learn so that there wouldn’t be so much silence between you two. Not to mention, his shameless staring, which persisted just as it did from day one, confounded you. He never ever tried to make a move on you, almost as if he was waiting for you to say something to him. If you were being honest, the staring flustered you because it was coming from such an attractive confident person. You were definitely attracted to him too, but you’d never start anything romantic with a coworker. Those kinds of things always got too messy, especially with such a small staff.

As you wiped down the windows outside, your eyes automatically found Jungkook’s on the other side. You smirked and waved at him, acknowledging him for once. He flashed a crooked smile at you and nodded a ‘sup’ at you in return. You couldn’t get the stupid smirk off your face as you finished cleaning the windows, realizing you probably looked like a happy idiot from inside the shop. You thought about what to say to him when you’d have to go back inside, ultimately deciding on just coming out and asking him what his deal was. So, when you put away the cleaning materials and met Jungkook’s lingering eyes, you cleared your throat and asked the burning month-old question at the tip of your tongue.

“So…what’s with the staring?” You put your hand on your hip but then second guessed yourself and placed it on the counter. Jungkook watched your movements carefully and chuckled, observing your false bravado.

“Easy, you’re very beautiful.” Jungkook watched your eyes widen before continuing, “I can restrain myself though, if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You smiled and looked at anywhere but at his face. “Ah…well, that answers that. I was just asking, thought maybe I had something on my face.”

Jungkook laughed, “No, nothing like that. Is that why you don’t really talk to me, because I make you uncomfortable?” Jungkook kept his gaze directly on your burning face which made you feel like you were on the hot seat.

“What do you mean? I totally talk to you.” You crossed your arms, giving up on willing your blushing cheeks to cool off.

“Psh, not like you do with Hobi. You guys are like best friends now. I’m third wheeling it over here.” Jungkook mirrored your arms crossed over your chest. You giggled and rolled your eyes, playing along to his false offense.

“Well, I don’t know… Hobi’s easy to talk to I guess.”

“And I’m not?” It was evident that Jungkook took pleasure in grilling you with that teasing smile playing at his lips, but you refused to backtrack now.

You took a minute to think before responding, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but not exactly. You’re really…how should I put this…out there. And I’m more of an…in there…kind of person.” After a beat, you both laughed at how much you weren’t making sense, you with embarrassment and him at how cute you seemed when you were flustered.

“Well maybe if you got to know me you wouldn’t be so shy.” Jungkook challenged you with a wicked glint in his eye and a sexy side smirk.

“Point taken. So, tell me about yourself then, Mr. Third Wheel.” Jungkook laughed at his new nickname.

“What do you want to know, babe?” You rolled your tongue around on the inside of your cheek and tried to think of a good question for him while ignoring the thrill that his pet name for you inflicted.

“Umm, okay, are you a student anywhere?”

This time it was Jungkook’s turn to roll his eyes at you. “BORING. Seriously, that’s what you want to know about me? Let me guess, your next question is about my favorite color.” His teasing flustered you further, proving your point about how hard it’d be to have a conversation with him.

“Okay fine! Have you ever killed anyone?” You looked Jungkook in the eye in an attempt to intimidate him.

“If I told you the truth then I’d have to kill you too, and I don’t really feel like doing that, so, pass.” You smirked at each other until it turned into a stare down, conceding after a while and rolling your eyes at him. Just then, you noticed a customer making their way to the register and just like that, your brief albeit silly conversation with Jungkook was effectively over for the time being.

Once you two were done wringing and serving the random group of people that interrupted your conversation, Jungkook immediately turned back to you and asked a follow up question. “So, what about you? Have you ever killed anyone?”

You smiled and responded, “Oh, tons! My favorite victims happen to be flirtatious coffee shop baristas. You know any?”

Jungkook’s laugh was disarming. The more you talked the more at ease you felt with him. He was definitely charming, which is probably why he got along with strangers so easily, and probably why he could get away with coming in late all the time. What he lacked in professionalism and punctuality he more than made up for in expertise and people skills.

Before you knew it, 3 o’clock rolled around and tons of school kids flooded the café. You were able to wring everyone in a timely manner, so there was nothing left to do but watch Jungkook make drinks. You felt bad at how slammed he seemed, so you asked if he needed any help, secretly hoping he’d say no.

Jungkook smiled down at the drinks he was making and responded, “Sure, if you’re feeling up for it!” Why don’t you come over here and top these bad boys with whipped cream then hand them out.”

You immediately grew nervous but rushed over to help. There was a different kind of pressure when it came to making drinks, you quickly realized. Not only did you have to worry about making everyone’s orders correctly, you had to do it quickly with no mistakes since all the customers would crowd the bar and watch your every move. Your hands slightly shook as you took hold of the whipped cream dispensers. The café made their own, so it wasn’t the cans of cool whip you were expecting.

Jungkook noticed your confusion and answered your thoughts. “All you have to do is shake it a bit, hold it upside down and swirl it on top of the ice so that it makes a nice cone shape. Go on.”

You did as he instructed, but when you squeezed the handle, the trapped air inside of the tin released into the cup and sent an ice cube sliding across the counter. Your face was blazing with embarrassment, but Jungkook didn’t seem to think it was embarrassing it at all. Instead, he offered you some more help.

“Here, do it like this.” Jungkook stood close behind you and took hold of your hand that held the contraption. He squeezed your hand so you could get an idea of how firm to hold it, tilting your hand completely upside down, and helped your finger pull the trigger. Slowly and smoothly, cream circled the top of the drink nicely. With his head almost resting on your shoulder and his mouth so close to your ear, his instructions sent shivers down your spine. “You have to turn it all the way and ease up on the trigger or else you’ll make a mess.” You nodded tightly, pretending to understand what he said only because your brain wouldn’t stop obsessing at the way his chest felt pressed up against your back and his hands on yours.

Your fingers shook while fitting a lid on the drink. When you finally handed it out to the customer, you caught a dirty look from the girl who it belonged to. You figured she was one of Jungkook’s many admirers. The thought had you alight with humor. As you continued to top the drinks and hand them out, you realized how easy it was to work with Jungkook. The hard part was trying to keep your cool.

“Look at you go! It’s almost as if you’re an actual barista!” You chuckled at Jungkook’s comment as you handed out the last drink.

“Oh, didn’t you hear? I’m your replacement.” Jungkook looked at you for a moment without saying anything.

“What?”

“Shy my ass. You’ve got a mouth on you. I like it.”

“I never said I was shy.”

“Touché.”

Just then, Jin came in through the front door.

“Thanks for holding down the fort you two. Y/N you can go, you did a great job today.” Jin rounded the corner of the stand and you handed him your apron.

“Same time tomorrow?” You looked at your manager who was busy checking the sales on the register.

“Yep, see you in the morning!” Jin answered you absentmindedly so you took that as your queue to go, but not before saying something to Jungkook.

“Do you think you can manage the bar without me?” You asked him cheekily as you removed your hat.

He smiled at you with narrowed eyes. “I don’t know how I’ll go on, but I think I might just barely make it.”

And just like that, you headed home with butterflies in your stomach for the first time in ages.

Three months into working at the café, a new horror movie came out, and since Hobi knew you were a horror fan, he invited you to come see it with himself and Jungkook.

“If we go tomorrow night, the tickets are half off for students. You in?” Hobi was busying himself counting the change in the drawer while you contemplated going out with them. They didn’t want to go until late, so you’d definitely lose out on sleep, which you weren’t a fan of, but you didn’t want to turn down your first invitation out from your coworkers. You knew Hobi and Jungkook regularly hung out together outside of work, and it made you feel a tad left out whenever they talked about things you weren’t a part of.

You also couldn’t lie and say you weren’t excited to hang out with Jungkook off the clock. Over the last two months, you two had taken any and all chances to flirt when left alone but you both knew how to behave yourselves while in the presence of Hobi and Mr.Kim. It sort of became like a game of who could make the other blush the most. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t enjoying Jungkook’s dirty looks, because what had started off as glances turned into full blown body checks, winks, lip biting and cheeky facial expressions. You also couldn’t lie and say that you didn’t take extra time in the mornings to get ready for work for this exact reason.

You knew it was probably a bad idea, what started developing between you and Jungkook over the last couple months. You wouldn’t accept responsibility for how it started, but you did acknowledge that your shameless entertaining his advances wasn’t innocent in the slightest. You knew this was a slippery slope to go down, but it made your harmless fling all the more exciting.

That’s why when you looked at Jungkook after Hobi’s invitation and caught his subtle wink at you, you accepted right away. You hadn’t been out in so long, especially not with the opposite gender.

You pondered what to wear when you weren’t busy tending to customers. If you tried too hard and dressed in the sexiest outfit you could find, you might seem desperate. You might also give Hobi the wrong idea. If you wore something casual that you might wear to the coffee shop, then it might be embarrassing if they show up dressed to the nine.

When the time finally came for your movie date with the boys, you settled on the best of both worlds. You let your hair down, which would be a nice change from the ponytails and buns you wore to work. You still kept your usual look of denim and a nice shirt, but you traded your comfy work shoes for heeled boots. Trying without trying. You decided against putting on a full face of makeup since you didn’t want your coworkers looking at you differently at work without it on. You called an uber once you were satisfied with your looks, feeling butterflies the entire way there. You weren’t just excited to see Jungkook either, your relationship with Hobi had evolved into genuine friendship outside of being coworkers, so you couldn’t wait to hang out with him either.

Once the car pulled into the movie theatre, you immediately noticed the boys waiting out front. They were dressed impeccably, and you instantly regretted changing outfits. Hobi was sporting sweats and a denim jacket with trendy sneakers and a beanie. The outfit was sporty but sexy at the same time, given it seemed he wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath the jacket.

Jungkook, on the other hand, was wearing something akin to what you pictured he might look like after hours. He was wearing the leather jacket you noticed was always in his work cubby paired with ripped blue jeans, a bucket hat, combat boots, and a plaid button up tied around his waist. You almost didn’t want to get out of the car, but you knew you’d keep getting charged for the ride if you didn’t, so you exited with a sigh and waved to get their attention. They were in the middle of a conversation, but it was Hobi who saw you first. He smiled and did a silly dance to show how happy he was to see you and it made you crack up.

“Why did I agree to go out with you?” You teased Hobi.

“Because you have nothing better to do anyway.” You feigned pain at his words, no doubt a minor habit you had picked up from Jungkook. When you turned towards Jungkook, you instantly noticed how he wasn’t laughing along with you guys. Probably in one of those moods again.

It happened very rarely, because Jungkook was always a cheery person, but once in a while he wouldn’t be in the mood to socialize and those were the most boring days at work.

When all three of you headed inside, Jungkook went ahead of you two so you gave Hobi an inquisitive look while pointing at your grumpy third wheel to which he responded with a shrug. You sighed, a gloomy mood setting in at the thought of not having as much fun as you thought you would.

You offered to hold seats for everyone while they waited in line at the concession stand. You wanted to give Jungkook time to get over his bad mood, and you also wanted to avoid craning your neck from getting stuck with bad seats. You busied yourself on your phone in the meantime, but you weren’t scrolling for long before you felt someone take a seat next to you.

Jungkook sat down with a large popcorn and tossed a few pieces in his mouth, “Hey work wife, I missed you.”

You smiled and put your phone away. “Oh yeah? How much did you miss me exactly?

Jungkook took hold of your hand that was resting on the arm rest in between you two. “This much.” He laced your fingers together and wiggled his eyebrows. You couldn’t help but laugh, since it all felt elementary. It brought you back to your first date ever when holding hands, and any skin ship for that matter, was a huge deal.

You wriggled your hand out of his grasp, since you weren’t comfortable flirting around Hobi. You didn’t want your friend to feel like a third wheel at all. “Seriously though, you okay? You seemed kind of down earlier.”

Jungkook looked embarrassed at your worrying. He shifted in his seat and, could it be, a light blush forming on his cheeks? He smiled to himself, looking down at his thighs, “What, are you worrying about me now?”

This time it was your turn to look at Jungkook and wonder how he could be so cute while being flustered. “Of course I do, can’t have my work husband being sad.” You pinched his cheek and Jungkook smiled his most dazzling smile yet. He swatted your hand but held onto it for a while, caressing your palm and turning your hand over in his as if never having ever held a hand before, then letting go. It was a tender moment unlike your usual flirtation with aim at getting a rise out of the other. It was so sweet yet fleeting that you spent the rest of the two-hour movie thinking about it. Jungkook glanced over at you many times during the movie, but you refused to look at him, fearing he might catch on at exactly how much he was having an effect on you. It was starting to feel all too real, and you couldn’t be your usual cool and playful self if what was going on between the two of you was aactually real. You’d never thought of Jungkook as a boyfriend, although you did think of him under the covers late at night. You willed the sinful thoughts out of your head for the next two hours, so you didn’t seem weird later when it was time to say goodbye.

It wasn’t hard to put it out of your mind eventually, especially when you saw how much of a weenie Hobi was when it came to horror movies. You keeled over with laughter at the sight of his pale face while exiting the theatre. “Why did you want to see this movie if you were going to be so afraid?” You spoke in between laughs.

“Because! I don’t know! I didn’t think it was going to be that scary! Besides, I wanted you to come and I know it’s your favorite, so…”

“Awwwww, Hobi! I’d have come even if it was a Disney movie.” You pinched your friend’s cheek and his answering crescent eyes of happiness had you giggling. You looked over at Jungkook, and it seemed his bad mood had returned, so you continued only speaking to Hobi. “Seriously, thanks for the invite. It was fun! We should do it again.”

But now, all three of you had reached the outside of the theater and the night had brought a chill with it that had all of you hugging your torsos. You hurried to pull out your phone and order an uber home, but Jungkook had other ideas.

“Put that away, you’re coming with us.” You looked up at the boy who was barely looking at you in the eye.

“You sure? I live close to the shop, are you going in that direction?”

Jungkook took hold of your arm and started walking to his car impatiently. “Okay, okay!” You looked back at Hobi who was observing everything from the back. As if knowing exactly what your look meant, he answered with a shrug yet again that said I have no idea why he’s acting this way.

You called shotgun once you got to the car and Hobi playfully kicked the back wheel of Jungkook’s car in theatrical anger. Once the three of you pulled off in the direction of Hobi’s house, you got into light conversation about the scariest parts of the movie and the faulty plot. Jungkook didn’t say a single word the entire time. He stared straight ahead at the road and kept both hands on the wheel. You glanced at him periodically, looking for reactions that might tip you off for the cause of his change in mood, but nothing made sense. By the time you said your goodbyes to Hobi through the window, you had given up on talking to Jungkook and settled for looking at the small-town scenery passing you by.

However, the longer you sat in silence, the more annoyed you became at the situation. You couldn’t help feeling like you did something wrong and you wanted answers, so you lowered the music playing on the radio and fully turned towards Jungkook. He looked at you sideways then kept his focus on the road. When you didn’t say anything, he offered a simple, “Yes?”

“Did I do something? Why are you being weird again?”

“I’m being weird?” Although Jungkook kept his serious demeanor, you could hear a smile in his voice, so you pressed further.

“Yes! You seem grumpy and It feels personal.”

After a thoughtful minute, Jungkook released the steering wheel with his right hand and took hold of your left hand.

“Sorry.” Jungkook offered a simple apology in a voice so small you weren’t sure if you actually heard it. He didn’t look at you again for the rest of the ride, but you were content with the silence and holding his hand in the darkness of his car. You welcomed the way your heartbeat quickened at the romantic contact, preferring this over his cold demeanor from earlier anyday.

It dawned on you after a while that you hadn’t told Jungkook your actual address. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“Yes,” Jungkook looked over at you and smiled at your puzzled reaction. “Because I’m not taking you home, I hope you don’t mind.”

“…You’re kidnapping me?” You smiled at him, wondering what was going through his mind.

“Is that what you normally call dating?”

“Oh, so this is a date now?”

“Yeah, didn’t you get my rolled-up proposal sent through carrier pigeon?”

You giggled, feeling relieved that things were back to normal, and also excited at the turn of events. “What’s the plan then?”

After thinking for a moment, Jungkook simply replied, “I hope you like darts.”

He ended up taking you to a hole-in-the-wall bar in town. He explained that it was his absolute favorite place to go because of the ambience and the cheap beer prices. You were content for a few reasons. For one, not many people were here, so you didn’t have to worry about talking loudly. You also enjoyed places with good beers on draft, and this was one of those places. Lastly, Jungkook seemed to be at ease here, so it made hanging out, playing games and talking casually way more fun.

Although it felt just like any other day at the café with Jungkook, you were a little on edge now since your suspicions at the theatre seemed to be proving themselves true. Did Jungkook want to date you seriously? Or did he simply want to hang out a little extra? Since the flirtation had become so normal, you weren’t sure what to make of the situation. Neither of you were the mushy type, so you feared you wouldn’t really know what was going through his head unless you asked him directly, but you didn’t want to risk seeming clingy or making him feel weird. While playing pool, you decided where you would draw the line, for your own sanity. The smell of his body wash, the way his shirt clung to his chest, and the cocky look on his face after sinking balls on the table was making your head swim. You knew it was only a matter of time before the light touching, hugging, and hand holding evolved into something more intimate, so you resolved to not let things go further unless you outlined the parameters of your relationship with him in clear bold lines. You were the type of person to fall hard for someone you had a crush on, and you could already tell that Jungkook had the potential to devastate you. You needed to be careful.

Normally, you were so much better at pool, but you were so deep in your thoughts that you were missing every shot and not realizing it. Jungkook got down to his last ball before putting his stick down and making his way over to you. You watched him approach you, put his hands on your hips and lift you onto the table so you were seated and meeting him eye to eye. The gesture took you by surprise, and you weren’t sure how to react, so you held onto his arms and looked up at him questioningly. He settled his body in between your legs while his hands rested on your thighs.

“What’s up with you?” He looked into your eyes getting straight to the point.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re sucking right now. And you were talking big game earlier, which is something you don’t do unless you can walk the walk. So, what’s on your mind?”

“Here’s a little advice, if you’re taking a girl out on a date, you might not want to insult her pool skills.” You jutted your chin out at him in a petulant pout.

“Oh yeah? Or else what?”

“Or else you’ll probably never hear from her again.” You flicked his nose playfully.

“Well it’s a good thing I work with you then. There’s no avoiding me.”

Your smile faded. Although you were both joking and talking in hypotheticals, he was absolutely right. You were having fun, but you still weren’t sure if you wanted to risk starting something with a coworker that might end badly.

Jungkook noticed your change in demeanor and backed up a few inches. “Sorry, did that one hit too close to home?”

You laughed weekly while running your fingers through your hair nervously, “Yeah…”

Jungkook sighed and extended his hand to you so you could get down from the table. “It’s late and we have work tomorrow, let’s get you home.”

As Jungkook closed the tab out at the bar, you couldn’t help but feel like a total idiot. Here was this extremely sexy and extremely cool guy who was interested in you, and you shot any chance you might’ve had with him down due to fears of something that might never even occur anyway. You felt so stupid and mentally kicked yourself all the way back to the car.

When he didn’t take hold of your hand again during the car ride to your house, you began panicking, realizing your fling with Jungkook might’ve truly ended before even starting. That’s when you realized how whipped you were for him, and how much you’d rather take the risk with him than to have nothing with him at all. It took all your nerves and then some to try and turn the night around by the time you reached your house. You decided you’d kiss him if he consented, and if he wasn’t interested then you’d deal with it and hope the earth might swallow you whole.

Jungkook parked the car along your block and took the keys out of the ignition. Good sign. He turned to you and said nothing, the ball was in your court.

“So…thanks again for tonight. It was fun.“

“Yeah it was.”

When Jungkook didn’t offer anything else, you cleared your throat. “Um…sorry if I made you feel some type of way back there. I liked where things were going before I got all weird.”

Jungkook smirked and leaned his head back on his car seat, reveling in your struggle to convey something that was clearly embarrassing for you. “What do you mean where things were going?”

You blushed at the thought of saying the things that were actually running through your mind. “Yeah, you know, with you being so close to me.”

Without missing a beat, Jungkook placed his hand on your upper thigh and squeezed, looking at your eyes and then your lips. You looked at his veiny hands on you, then up at his face and decided to throw caution to the wind. You leaned into him and planted a soft kiss on his lips, to which he responded by knotting his hands in your hair and kissing you back deeply.

As your lips went to town on each other, you thanked the heavens above that the night wasn’t a lost cause after all. You relished in the kiss as long as you could and took in every detail as if it was your first kiss ever. His lips felt incredibly soft despite the passion he was putting into the make out session. He tasted like wheat beer and buttered popcorn, and you couldn’t get enough. It didn’t take long before your tongues were introduced into the equation. Even as the kiss ignited and the movements of your heads became more exaggerated, you still wanted more. It was almost as if you two had been holding back your lust for each other for so long and now the flood gates were open.

You reached for his head and took his bucket hat off, running your fingers through his slightly damp hair that smelled like Irish Spring. You tugged lightly on his strands, eliciting a groan from his unrelentless mouth on yours. You were both leaning towards the middle with your hands on each other, but it was a bit uncomfortable, so you took your seat belt off and climbed into his lap carefully. The moment excited him and took him by surprise at the same time. He disconnected your lips from each other briefly to look up at you and smile. You blushed, wondering if it was too much, but the negative thought left your head as fast as it entered when he held your head on both sides and brought you in for another kiss. You rested your hands on his chest and tugged on his shirt slightly.

Jungkook’s hands roamed your body with restraint. It was obvious he wanted to be a gentleman and not rush things, since his hands deliberately avoided your more intimate areas. You could tell he was hungry for more, so you appreciated his show of respect. As his hands rested on your waist, two of his fingers dipped under your top and dug in, creating dimples on your flesh. You’d have enjoyed that more if his hands weren’t so cold. You flinched at the contact, moaning into the kiss to show discomfort. His hands immediately retreated, but you two laughed at the comical moment.

You sighed and sat back on his lap, looping your hands around his neck. “I should get inside.”

Jungkook’s head fell back onto the seat with a thud, his hair bouncing along. “Yeah…I should get home too.”

You both sat in silence for a few seconds, neither of you wanting to move. After taking in his fucked out appearance, you grew satisfied with yourself and exited through the driver’s side. You closed the door, waved and then headed in. From your window, you watched Jungkook adjust his pants, start the car and drive off. The whole scene had you smiling to yourself, and you were floating on cloud nine until the moment you fell asleep.

You and Jungkook hadn’t been found out about until a month after your first kiss. You both still lived with your parents, so it was almost impossible to find alone time with each other that didn’t involve heavy petting in the backseat of his car. Needless to say, you were both extremely pent up, which is why when he invited you to come to the store extra early one day, you knew he was up to something.

“Jeon Jungkook? Coming in EARLY?! Something’s gone awry.” Jungkook rolled up his cleaning towel and whipped you with it for teasing him. You yelped at the stinging feeling on your bottom.

“Say you’ll come.”

“I don’t know Jungkook, what if Mr. Kim comes in early?”

“Don’t be so paranoid. Do you want to learn how to make fancy lattes or not?”

You rolled your eyes as you wiped down the counter, knowing he was full of it. “Fuck it, why not. What time exactly?”

“Hmmm…you need a lot of help, better make it 6:00am.” If it wasn’t for the fact that a customer had approached the register at that moment, you would’ve whipped him back for making fun of you.

Bright and early the next day, you and Jungkook met up at the front of the café as planned. Mr. Kim gave him a copy of the store keys for days where he would be too busy to open himself, and it seemed Jungkook was planning on making good use of it.

Normally you’d look like death coming into work this early but knowing who was waiting for you here in private put a spring in your step and a good mood that was unlike you in the morning. Jungkook was a morning person, so he was never afflicted with such issues.

As you watched Jungkook turn on the espresso machines and check the stock for all the necessary ingredients, it was only just now occurring to you that you’d have to make fancy drinks, which was intimidating because the shop’s regular customers were used to Jungkook’s expertise, flare and efficiency.

Jungkook lined up several cups along with clean pitchers and milk on the counter before turning to you with a quirked brow. “You ready?”

“Uh, yeah I guess,” you answered nervously.

Jungkook smiled warmly and patted your shoulder. With his other hand he tipped your chin forward and stared into the depths of your eyes. “You’ve got this. I believe in you, relax.” You melted just a tiny bit.

Turning your attention to the counter, he explained what the training consisted of. “Each of these cups is a different order. I’m going to show you step by step how to make each one, and then I’m going to time you on how fast you do them.” Lifting up one cup at a time, he explained, “These are the different ways someone can order an espresso drink here: a latte, a cappuccino, a flat white, a macchiato, and an americano.” Jungkook handed you an empty pitcher. “This is where you put milk for steaming. If you look inside, there are different measurement lines to fill the milk to depending on what size they order.”

You filled the pitcher with milk to the second line, nodding along. Suddenly, Jungkook stood behind and reached around you, holding your hand with the pitcher and taking hold of the other. He led your free hand over to the nozzle on the espresso machine and very carefully showed you how to steam the milk properly. You flinched at the piercing sound of the steam aerating the milk, causing Jungkook to chuckle softly behind you.

“Hey, don’t laugh at me, I’m new at this!” You pouted with false offense.

“Sorry sorry, you’re just so cute I can’t help it.” Your face beamed in the dim morning light streaming into the café. There was absolutely no denying that you were whipped for this man.

Jungkook led your free hand around the buttons on the machine, showing you how to queue espresso shots. You watched in wonderment as the thin streams of chalky brown liquid shot out and filled tiny shot glasses. The overpowering aroma of coffee quickly filled the air.

He had you prepare 3 pitchers of steamed milk, eventually letting go of you so you could do it on your own, much to your disappointment. “Let’s start with one of the easiest drinks to make, a latte. Pour the shot into the cup and the milk over top.” You did as he instructed, watching the milk turn light brown inside of the cup and eventually foam at the very top.

Jungkook inspected your drink then took a sip. “Not bad. Okay Ms. Fancy Pants, make me a macchiato this time.”

You hesitated with the shot in one hand and the milk in the other. You knew this particular drink was the reverse of a latte…or was it? You poured the hot milk into the cup and swirled the espresso over top. Looking at Jungkook for approval, you pursed your lips at his flat stare. He tsked, shook his head and leaned off the counter to get you a new cup.

“Macchiato means ‘through the middle’. Pour the shot directly through the center and don’t deviate.” You nodded wordlessly at his stern expression. As you remade the drink, you couldn’t find an explanation as to why you found him so sexy even when he was peeved.

“Okay, do you remember how to make the flat white?” You did, but you wanted him to touch you again, so you shook your head. Jungkook smiled and lead your hand holding the pitcher of milk to create the perfect flat white latte. You both held the pitcher close to the cup after pouring the espresso in first, then brought it up a few inches, then back down until a small while dot of milk formed at the center of the brown froth. Your hand felt electrically charged from the skin to skin contact, making it hard to focus on what you were doing.

“Now for the cappuccino, I’ll give you a few tries to get it right since it’s hard to nail down at first. Hold the steam above the milk for 9 seconds instead of 4 to create a lighter, foamier pitcher of milk.”

You followed his instructions and poured the shot along with the milk into the cup. Jungkook lifted the cup and instantly put it back down. “Not light enough. Again.”

Your eyebrows knotted in concentration as you began steaming a fresh cup of milk. You didn’t get the cappuccino down until the 5th pitcher of milk which slightly embarrassed you, but Jungkook was patient and tentative throughout the process. You felt gratitude at his willingness to train you so well.

“All that’s left is the americano, and that’s the easiest one of all. It’s simply shots and hot water to the top of the cup.”

“Psh, this is cake work.” You retorted cheekily, squeezing a lid onto the coffee cup and handing it to Jungkook for a taste.

“Oh yeah, hot shot?” Jungkook brought the cup to his mouth briefly and nodded in approval.

“Yeah! Where’s the real challenge? I want to make the cool drinks you do with the artwork at the top.” You decided to reward yourself with a little whipped cream for getting through the training smoothly.

Jungkook laughed heartily. “Ah, you’re a fan of my handiwork I see. Well unfortunately,” Jungkook grabbed you by the hips suddenly and sat you on top of the counter in between the espresso machines, ”That’s not something I can teach you in one day. It takes a lot of practice and patience.” Jungkook took your wrist in his hand and led your finger topped with whipped cream to his lips. Maintaining eye contact, he parted his mouth and sucked lightly on the tip of your finger, leading with his tongue. You inhaled sharply at the view; all things coffee related instantly fleeing your mind. You slid your finger out of his mouth slowly. He opened up as you ran your finger along his bottom lip. You’d never wanted a taste of whipped cream more in your life than you had at that very moment.

It seemed Jungkook was on the same page because it only took a split second before you two were all over each other. Your legs molded themselves around his midsection and your hands held his face to yours. Your heads moved together in rhythm while your lips ravaged each other. Tongue was immediately introduced, both of you having wanted to kiss each other again for so long. You couldn’t get enough, needing more and more every passing second. You wrapped your arms around his neck, smashing his body against yours as your tongues swirled together in harmonized motion. Jungkook’s hands greedily surveyed the lay of the land, first starting off on your thighs, then your mid back, and now the top of your ass. He squeezed and groped which only encouraged your need for him. You writhed against the kiss, rubbing your breasts against his chest. Jungkook pressed you into him then took you off the counter completely. You were vaguely aware of being transported as you bit and dragged out his lip. Jungkook let out a soft groan as he placed you on top of what you assumed to be Mr. Kim’s desk. Jungkook’s fingers ran up into your hair and tugged, forcing your head to the side and exposing your neck. He began trailing wet sloppy kisses down from your ear which had you shivering in excitement. You let out a low moan when he reached the base of your neck, letting him know it was a soft spot for you. You arched your back and pushed your chest in the air to which Jungkook responded by roughly groping your breasts through your button up shirt. You hissed through your teeth at the faint pleasure his movements brought you, but you still wanted more. You’d been eyeing him for months, and when you both finally took the next step, it felt like you were stuck there for far too long. If you were this addicted to his lips, there was no telling how addictive the rest of him could be, and you so badly wanted to find out.

Jungkook reattached his mouth to yours as his hands found the fleshy feel of your bra under your shirt. You moaned into his mouth, reveling in the miniscule pleasure it brought you. You reached your hands under Jungkook’s shirt, feeling his abs on the way down to his belt and pulled on it to bring him closer to you. You began unbuckling it impatiently, struggling to work the metal latch. It took Jungkook a second to respond, realizing things were moving along in full gear. He started unbuttoning your shirt with a quickness the likes of which you’d never seen before.

However, your shirt only made it just past your shoulders before you heard the familiar bell of the shop door opening. You and Jungkook froze as Hobi sauntered into the backroom. He was fully engrossed in his phone with his airpods in, but the quick movements of you and Jungkook getting redressed attracted his attention. His face morphed from surprise to sheer horror as he realized what was going on in Mr. Kim’s office in the early hours of the morning. Hobi yelped dramatically and threw his hands over his eyes, fleeing out of the office and out of the shop altogether.

Jungkook found his reaction amusing as he tucked his shirt into his pants. You, on the other hand, were so mortified and embarrassed that you couldn’t move. Your face was tomato red and you were paralyzed in horror.

Jungkook continued chuckling as he redid the buttons of your shirt. “I guess the training took longer than we thought, huh?”

You lowered your face into your hands. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Poor Hobi! He probably thinks we were in here fucking!”

“I mean…things were kind of heading in that direction…” You began beating Jungkook on the chest with your limp balled up fists which only made him laugh harder.

You didn’t feel shame about being sexually active, or being attracted to Jungkook, but rather being seen in a negative light for getting it on in an inappropriate place. Who knows what was going through Hobi’s mind at that moment? You had to do damage control, and quickly.

You hopped off the desk and exited the back room, immediately spotting your work buddy squatting on the other side of the glass. You approached him with caution, your face still blushing furiously. Hobi looked up at you with a straight face but busted out into laughter, at which point you began beating him too. You could hear Jungkook laughing harder at the spectacle going on outside, which only made your embarrassment find permanent footing.

For the rest of the day, Hobi would hand you cups with a smirk on his face and exchange meaningful glances with Jungkook here and there, reigniting your embarassment every time. You hated them so much for the rest of that entire week.

At the end of the workday on a Friday, weeks after your hookup with Jungkook in the office, you noticed a folded-up note placed on top of your belongings. You quirked your eyebrow at it then looked back out to the floor, but none of the boys were even looking in your direction. You opened it up and read Jungkook’s scrawl: Let’s chill at my house this weekend. My parents are away 😉.

Your heart instantly began beating furiously in your chest, and you quickly stuffed the receipt paper into your back pocket. You blushed as you gathered your things. The store was busy, so you weren’t able to say goodbye to Jungkook or Hobi as you exited the shop.

You contemplated what to text Jungkook when you got home. Of course, you wanted to go, but you were nervous about the entire thing. You were again reminded about how your fling was never supposed to get this far, despite your carelessness in the early morning all those weeks ago. After Hobi had caught you two in Mr.Kim’s office that day, you slowly began pulling away from Jungkook. It was so easy to get caught up in his cologne and the way his eye contact made you feel, so you needed to reign in your emotions and get a clear head before you rushed into something you couldn’t backtrack from. If you took that next step with him, there would be serious repercussions, and it seemed as though you two were headed in that direction, so you needed time to adjust. You were never able to muster up the courage to be frank with him about everything you’re feeling, so you felt as though you had no footing when it came to your relationship with him. Because of that, you weren’t sure if this meant you two would be officially dating or not, and you felt way too awkward to bring it up at this point, especially if this was all just fun and games in his head.

Your after-work routine had become second nature to you by now. As soon as your bedroom door closed behind you, the events went exactly as follows: Run the bath water as hot as possible, strip your work clothes into the laundry bin, light the vanilla candle that barely had any wax left in it, loosen the bun on your head, slowly and carefully submerge yourself in the steaming water without splashing any out of the tub.

As you laid on the porcelain, you closed your eyes and rested your head back onto the edge, contemplating Jungkook’s note. You wondered if Jungkook really hadn’t noticed you ignoring his advances this entire time. Maybe you weren’t being obvious enough? You sighed heavily and sank deeper into the tub, because that meant you would have to go over and explain why you couldn’t hook up with him despite having the perfect opportunity to do so, and you were not looking forward to that.

You remembered that Jungkook was off tomorrow, but you weren’t, and you were thankful for that. He might back you into a corner, and you needed to find the resolve somewhere inside of yourself to turn down this amazing boy. You texted him back a simple sentence: What’s your address?

Your morning Saturday shift went by way too quickly, not giving you enough time to settle your nerves. You tried to focus on work, but every once in a while, your mind would drift to what was to happen later that night. It didn’t help that there were barely any customers to keep you busy, so you were in your head the entire time. You’d never worked a Saturday before, so you didn’t know what to expect. Normally Jungkook would work Saturdays on his own. You idly wondered why today was any different.

Thankfully, Mr. Kim had opened the store with you and had tasks lined up to keep you at least a little busy. You quickly surmised that Saturdays at the coffee shop were dedicated to deep cleaning.

As you soaked the coffee pots in cleaning fluid and scrubbed the calcium buildup from the steaming nozzles, you practiced what you would say to Jungkook when he’d try to make a move. I don’t think we should keep doing this. No…that’s too serious, I don’t want to make things awkward. Listen, this is fun and all, and I appreciate you inviting me over, but I’ve given it some thought since our last hookup and I don’t want to have sex with you!

You blushed and chuckled at yourself for getting worked up at imaginary scenarios. It all felt quite silly considering you were putty in his hands anyway. Would you even have the resolve to refuse him? You knew a big part of you didn’t want to, but you knew if you didn’t then someone would end up getting hurt and you knew that person would most likely be you. You wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself if you had to quit this super convenient job because of relationship drama. You shook your head at the thought.

As soon as your shift at the café was done, Jungkook pulled up in his car out front and beeped the horn to get your attention. He didn’t tell you he’d be picking you up, so you were caught by surprise. It also warmed you a little that he went out of his way to get you when you could’ve easily driven to him. You smiled and waved at him as you approached the car. He leaned across and pushed the door open for you.

You had planned to go home and doll yourself up a little, but this scenario was probably for the best, although you couldn’t help the relief you felt at having decided to shave the night before. You beat back the unhelpful cheeky thoughts.

“Hey you.” Jungkook took off towards his house, whistling an upbeat tune.

“Hey! I didn’t know you were picking me up, thanks!” You buckled your seat belt and sat back, but then realized this scenario was not for the best, since you wouldn’t be able to drive yourself home if things got awkward at his house. You clenched and unclenched your hands in nervousness, but Jungkook grabbed it and brought it to his mouth, gently brushing his lips on your knuckles then holding onto it for the rest of the ride. The sweet gesture calmed your nerves.

Only 15 minutes had passed by before Jungkook was pulling into a driveway that lead to the back of a big beautiful house. As you exited the car, you could already hear loud barking coming from the back door. Jungkook headed inside first, holding an overly excited golden retriever back so you could enter. The dog barked excitedly then calmed down enough to sniff your shoes. His tail wagged with an intensity that you swore was creating a draft. You extended your hand uncertainty and the dog licked it eagerly.

You giggled as you petted the animal, “I didn’t know you had a dog!”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” Jungkook smiled and leaned on one of the counters in his kitchen as he watched you squat to rub the dog’s neck.

“Touché.” You took a break to look around. The back door had led into a giant kitchen adorned with stainless steal appliances. You whistled at how beautiful and grand it all was. “Nice house!”

“Thanks, my parents work hard.” Jungkook busied himself on the stove. It seemed he had prepared something for you two to eat. Your stomach rumbled at the smell of peppers and onions sizzling on a pan.

“Ah, so you don’t take after them I see.”

Jungkook chuckled at your jab, “Keep talking like that and you won’t get any of this delicious food I slaved over!”

“Oh, you slaved over this meal!? I gotta see what it is then” You giggled as you uncovered each pot sitting on the stove. Your mouth watered at the assortment of noodles, meats and vegetables that smelled amazingly. “I will say, I’m impressed. I guess making drinks isn’t your only forte.”

“Oh babe, you have no idea.” Jungkook smiled cheekily, enjoying his not so private joke as he grabbed two ceramic plates from the overhead cabinet. You swallowed thickly.

Jungkook served you a hearty plate and then did the same for himself. You waited for him to finish, unsure of where to sit and eat. He led you past a dining room, down a hallway and into a big living room with large sectionals that faced a mounted television on the wall. An episode of an anime played on the screen as Jungkook plopped himself on the far end of the couch and began digging in. You were happy at how normal this all felt, almost as if you had been coming here to hang out with him for years.

You took a seat on the couch an arm’s length away from him and began eating as you focused on the show. It was an episode of One Piece that you had already seen, but it still engrossed you enough to forget about being all alone with your crush.

After a while, you looked over at Jungkook who had been observing you for who knows how long.

“What?”

“You inhale your food, you know that?” He beamed his signature crooked smile at you, and you were too caught up in it to retort.

Instead, you rolled your eyes and took his empty plate and yours to the kitchen to wash, yelling over your shoulder, “I like to eat, OK?! Sue me!”

You didn’t hear Jungkook’s footsteps following you as you washed the plates in the sink. His arms snaked around your midsection and his chin rested on your shoulder which startled you enough to drop the plate you were scrubbing. Thankfully it didn’t break, so you kept doing the dishes as you willed your heart to stop drumming in your ears.

“Thanks, but you don’t have to do all that. You’re my guest.” Jungkook spoke softly next to your ear as he watched you rinse his plate.

“I don’t mind, you cooked after all. It was delicious by the way.” Your voice was small in the quiet of the kitchen.

After a while, Jungkook brought his hand up to your chest and rested it there. “Why are you so nervous? Your heart is beating really fast.”

You blushed and took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. Jungkook gently turned you around as soon as you put the plate on the dish rack. You looked up at him, but his eyes were focused on your mouth. He leaned into you, but instead of kissing you, he brushed his nose against the tip of yours.

“You have nothing to be nervous about. I just wanted to hang out with you. There’s no pressure here, OK?” You nodded at him, unable to meet his eyes but instead wishing he had kissed you. “Want a tour?” Jungkook smiled widely and it was infectious because you found yourself grinning back at him while nodding.

The curly haired brunette took you through each room of his spacious house. He led you around the first floor, explaining which family member was in each framed picture that lined the walls. You giggled at a cute picture of him as a baby hung just past the bathroom and you could swear Jungkook blushed just a little at your reaction. Once you had seen everything on the first floor, the boy took you by the hand and led you up the stairs. The second floor had 3 bedrooms in it and another bathroom. Taped up cardboard boxes lined the walls to which Jungkook apologized for. You rolled your eyes at him because his house was impeccable. If he thinks this is messy, I’m never taking him to my house.

The last room Jungkook showed you was his own. He waited at the entrance of it as you bounded past him and into the room. It heavily contrasted the other rooms you had seen since it was smaller in size and had dark blue painted walls instead of the usual ivory. Sports trophies and metals sat perched atop floating shelves along with manga books and video games. You took your time going through everything as he watched you carefully from afar. Once you reached his desk, you noticed his high-tech gaming setup complete with a back-support chair. You plopped on it and spun around. Reaching out to touch a button on the keyboard, it made a loud click noise. Mechanical keyboard.

You looked back at Jungkook. His expression was wary, having no idea what was going through your head as you studied the most personal things about him.

“Mechanical keyboard hooked up to a Corsair desktop with liquid coolant? Jungkook, you’re such a nerd!!” He let out the breath he was holding and laughed as he came in to sit on his bed.

“I won’t deny it.” Jungkook watched as you surfed his computer, checking what games he had downloaded. This setup cost a couple thousand dollars easily, so you took the opportunity to play a game of Overwatch while you could. Jungkook tisked after every time you died, but it was hard to focus on the game when he was sitting 2 feet away from you on a bed. You wondered if he was going to make a move on you or not. What if he doesn’t? You contemplated having the conversation with him anyway.

“Okay, get up. You just put my gamer tag to shame. I have to show you how a true master does it.” You giggled as he replaced you on the chair and instantly queued up for another game. You sat cross legged on the bed watching him play for a while. He was really good, you couldn’t deny it, but as your eyes took in the rest of his room, an alien feeling came over you. You gazed at the polaroids of a younger Jungkook smiling amongst his friends hanging along a large mirror, at his worn-out baseball glove that sat on top of his dresser, at the mess of clothes at the corner of the room that looked like he had changed outfits 6 times. Your heart was full in that moment, and you realized just how much you really liked Jungkook. You were so happy to be there with him, so content in his presence even as he was engrossed in his game. No, you more than liked him. And you knew this for months, but you didn’t want to admit it to yourself until now. You smiled down at your lap, realizing you were never going to have that conversation with him after all, there was no way you could part ways with someone that made you feel the way that he did, risk or no risk.

Suddenly overcome with emotion, you looked back at Jungkook who was hunched over the screen, furiously clicking away at the keys on the keyboard. In one swift motion, you pulled your shirt over your head and threw it on the floor. You took your hair out of the bun it had been in and let your strands fall over your shoulders. Jungkook looked over his shoulder at you briefly but did a double-take, realizing you were suddenly sitting on his bed with no shirt on. His mouth fell open in shock, but he didn’t miss a beat, instantly standing up to turn off his desktop and joining you on the bed. He placed a knee on the mattress next to you and leaned over you, attaching his lips to yours. You leaned back until you were laying on the bed with Jungkook on top of you. He held his weight on his elbows, careful not to be overbearing, but you didn’t care about that. You wanted to feel him on you, so you wrapped your legs around his waist and brought him to you. His arms rested on either side of your head as his lips worked gently and tentatively on your mouth. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, but after a while your hands began roaming and exploring. Your fingers took turns entwining themselves in his shiny brown locks, then caressing his face as you made out. Eventually, they reached for the bottom of his shirt, but he was already ahead of you as he kneeled briefly to take it off then reattached himself to your lips right after.

Your fingers began kneading the muscles on his shoulders and his arms, feeling how taught they were. Your fingertips lightly slid down his chest and onto the flat expanse of his stomach. You felt his abs twitch as he smiled into the kiss, “Sorry, your hands are cold.”

You giggled an I’m sorry as he took hold of both of your hands in his and held them above your head on the bed, pinning you down. You wanted to keep touching him, so you writhed against his hold on you, pushing your chest into his. You could feel Jungkook’s boner where it lay stiffly on your thigh just past your sex. You circled your hips trying to get it to hit the spot that needed attention. Jungkook understood what you were after and began bucking his hips sensually into yours. You moaned into the kiss, feeling his clothed shaft press harshly against the apex of your thighs. Jungkook lifted his face away from yours, dragging your bottom lip out as he did. He held both of your hands with his right, freeing his left to begin groping your breasts. His hands worked their magic over the lacey fabric of your bra, your nipples hardening just under the material. When he didn’t unhook your bra, you sat up and did it yourself. You realized he was probably letting you take the wheel after what he had said in the kitchen, so you decided to do just that. You got up on your knees and pushed Jungkook onto the bed, mounting him and putting your hands on his chest.

A wild glint shown in his eyes, to which you smiled and bit your lip, returning to his face to continue making out. You began circling your hips, grinding your clit against his boner and earning some groans from the boy. You sat up so you could watch his face as you continued grinding on him. His hands came up to your hips and held onto them roughly with his head thrown back in pleasure.

Your hands found the rim of his pants and began tugging. Jungkook lifted his hips so you could pull them down. You slid his pants to his ankles and he kicked them off. Your mouth watered as you stared down at the view beneath you. Jungkook’s chest heaved as he regained his breath from making out nonstop. His tan abs dipped below the waistband of his black boxer briefs that stretched tautly over his muscular thighs. Jungkook sat up on his elbows, looking up at you expectantly. You looked back at him and maintained eye contact as you slowly slid your jeans off of your body. Jungkook bit his lip as he watched you undressed for him. His dick twitched in his boxers, begging for attention. You quickly obliged, squeezing his boner with your hand over his boxers. He hissed and laid back down, draping his arm over his eyes. You wondered if he was shy when it came to sex, and the thought had your heart bursting at the seams.

You leaned down and licked a stripe over his clothed shaft, earning a gasp from the boy. You drenched the fabric in your saliva as you stared intently at Jungkook who had sat back up to look at you in surprise. You curled your fingers over the waistband and watched him for approval. He lifted his hips with permission as you slid the material off of him. His boner sprang free, leaking and angry. You licked your lips, gently taking hold of it. You swept your hair to the side and tucked a few loose strands behind your ear as you leaned in to get close to his penis. You gave it a few lazy strokes as you gently kissed the tip. Again, you watched for his reaction, and he assured you he wanted this just as much as you did when he bucked his hips at your mouth’s proximity to his member. You smiled at how excited he seemed, licking another strip up his shaft and leaving a wet streak from bottom to top. Jungkook hissed again, wearing his bottom lip out with his teeth. Once your tongue reached the top, you took his head into your mouth, curling your lips over your teeth and letting it rest on your circling tongue. Inch by inch, you took him into you keeping your mouth tight around him. Jungkook gaped as your nose furrowed itself in his pubic hair. You came up slowly, sucked the top a bit then went down again. Jungkook laid back down, enveloped in absolute pleasure. His hands found themselves in your hair, eventually holding your head in place so he could buck into you. As Jungkook fucked your mouth, you couldn’t help the drool that spilled from your lips and dripped down his member, further lubricating him and creating sloppy wet sounds each time he entered and exited your mouth. Jungkook’s expression became focused and borderline angry with his eyebrows knit together in pure pleasure and concentration. You noted how deliciously vocal he was with his consistent moaning and groaning filling the air. You could feel yourself getting increasingly wet at the view and the sounds before you.

After a while, Jungkook slowed and then took himself out of your mouth. His penis was dripping wet and even more red than it was before. You wiped your mouth with your thumb as he stroked himself lazily. Jungkook tore his eyes away from you briefly to rummage through his nightstand for a condom. You busied yourself with getting rid of your underwear. Feeling your sex yearning for attention as he struggled to find a condom, you mounted his midsection again and sat directly on top of his penis. Slowly, you began moving your hips back and forth. You slid easily along his shaft with the lubrication of your spit that hadn’t dried yet. You moaned lightly, feeling some pleasure from your movements. Jungkook stilled as he felt your pussy getting so close to enveloping him. He held your hip with one hand and clutched the condom in the other. His eyebrows knit together as he hesitated before leading your hips back and forth once more. Your moans and his groans filled the room in unison. Your wetness coated his dick, further exciting him.

“Fuck Y/N. You’re such a bad influence.” Jungkook’s voice shook and you smiled, realizing how fucked out he was, but you were too, maybe even more. Jungkook watched you excitedly as you took hold of the base of his penis and line him up with your entrance. He tossed the condom to the side and helped guide his penis into you. You both moaned loudly as he slipped inside of you easily. You quivered at the feeling of being so full. When you tried to move, Jungkook held you in place and you realized he was trying not to bust right then and there. You smiled and leaned forward to kiss him, deciding to give him a break so he could calm down. You kissed him passionately as he cupped your face between his large veiny hands. After a while, his hands traveled down to your ass and squeezed them hard. You responded by tightening around him. He began easing himself in and out of you, holding your cheeks apart so he could eventually slam into you repeatedly. You moaned loudly into his mouth at the sudden pleasure that overtook you. Jungkook moved his head back to disconnect your lips and watch your face as you moaned. You sat up and began bouncing on his dick wildly. Jungkook moved his hands to your breasts when he noticed them bouncing with each rough hip thrust. You steadied yourself by placing your hands on his lower stomach and threw your head back in sheer pleasure.

You took the opportunity of Jungkook eventually taking a break to begin circling your hips with him inside. Surely enough, the head of his penis found your g spot and you began moaning carelessly again. He watched as you got yourself off on top of him, reveling in the view of you letting your inhibitions go. Jungkook watched you intently you got closer and closer to reaching your high. Your hips quickened in pace then suddenly stopped as your toes curled and your walls pulsed around him. You keeled over on top of him, feeling every inch of your skin breaking out in goosebumps. You laid your head in the crook of his neck, breathing heavily. Jungkook moved your hair out of the way then kissed your forehead. You chuckled out of breath before speaking, “Fuck, Jungkook.”

Swiftly and effortlessly, Jungkook flipped you so that he was now on top. Jungkook decided to give you a break as he focused his attention on your breasts. He pinched and pulled on your nipples, sending tiny shocks down to your sensitive core each time. He brought his tongue to one and began licking and sucking, then did the same to the other. You scratched his head idly, appreciating the way he took his time with you.

Jungkook began kissing upwards on your chest, all the way up to your mouth and kissed you intimately. The kiss was deep and slow, without tongue this time, and it took your breath away. You had to hold back a moan at how sweet the kiss was. You never wanted it to end, but when his hand traveled down towards your sex, you knew you were ready for more. Jungkook sat back and slapped your clit with his dick before easing himself inside of you once more. You were still slick from your orgasm and it had Jungkook closing his eyes in pleasure. You shivered and pulled Jungkook back onto you again to feel his warmth on you. Slowly yet steadily, he began moving in and out of you as he laid on top of you. His arms caged your head in as he began kissing you sweetly again. This time you did moan, and it seemed to egg Jungkook on, but he didn’t want to ruin the romanticism in that moment, so he continued his slow place and focused on your mouth. He slipped his tongue into your mouth and began circling around yours sloppily. You opened your mouth fully, willing to take anything and everything. It all felt so good and so surreal, you could feel yourself getting impossibly wetter, and you knew he could too with the way he began growling.

“Fuck, Y/N” You could only moan your answer as you both instantly felt the need to fuck hard. Jungkook lifted himself up just enough as he sped up and begin pounding into you roughly, holding your hips in place as he did. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he fucked the living soul out of you. Eventually, he sat back and held your legs wide open as his dick entered and exited you relentlessly. Your moans grew so loud, you were sure it could be heard from outside, but you didn’t care. You wanted him to keep fucking you forever, but your body had other plans. It didn’t take long for the familiar blooming in your lower stomach to begin making your toes curl again and your back arch. With his hair clinging to the sweat on his forehead and a look of concentration, Jungkook looked into your eyes while you stared back at him with your mouth agape. “You gonna come for me again?” Jungkook’s words were tight and stern which only made you moan more.

“Fuck, yes, yes, I-I am. Fuuuuck Jungkook!” Your second orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks. You stared up at the ceiling as the familiar warm feeling spread to your extremities.

“That’s it baby, c’mon.” Jungkook fucked you through your orgasm as your walls spasmed around him. As you lay on the bed exhausted and reeling, he quickly pulled out of you and pumped himself a few times, spurting cum all over your stomach. Jungkook groaned loudly as the ropes of hot white liquid shot out of him. You were too spent to look, instead feeling the burning sensation of each drop landing on your moist skin.

As he milked the last of his cum out of his dick, you looked at your stomach covered in white and laughed breathlessly. “Jesus Jungkook, empty your balls once in a while.”

“Shut the fuck up, I’ve been busy.” Jungkook laughed breathlessly along with you, running his fingers through his sweaty hair. He got up from the bed and returned with baby wipes. You cleaned yourself up and tossed the soiled wipes in a nearby trashcan.

Making space for him on the bed, Jungkook laid down next to you. Neither of you said anything for a while, choosing instead to look up at the ceiling as your breathing evened out. You began breaking out in goosebumps at the feeling of being naked without a blanket over you. As if on cue, Jungkook pulled the covers up over the both of you. You turned to the side in contentment. Jungkook spooned you and wrapped his arm around you, making it easy for the both of you to drift to sleep.

In the middle of the night, you woke him up for another round, but this time it was him who was giving you oral, and just as with all else, he was extremely generous.

Monday came and went without any sign of Jungkook at work. When you showed up on Tuesday morning and he was absent again, you pouted, wondering what was going on. After the morning rush, you decided to mention it to Hobi at the risk of sounding clingy.

You watched your friend wipe down the counters before clearing your throat. “It’s not like Jungkook to miss two days of work in a row. I wonder if he’s okay…”

Hobi stilled his hand on the rag and looked at you in confusion.

“…What?” You quirked an eyebrow at him, wondering why he was starting to look so surprised. It seemed like he was trying to find the right words with which to respond. “Spit it out Hobi! You’re worrying me.” You couldn’t help the bad feeling that fell over you as you watched Hoseok fully turn to you with a worried expression on his face.

“Y/N…didn’t Jungkook tell you?”

“…Tell me what? Ugh Hobi just say it!” You bit your lip anxiously. Hoseok rubbed his neck, mimicking your anxiety.

“Y/N…Jungkook’s last day was Friday. He moved to Connecticut with his family this past Sunday…” You stared at your friend in disbelief, waiting for the punchline that never came.

You chuckled nervously. “Hobi…what are you talking about? I was just with him and-“ The memory of all the boxes around his house flashed in your mind and made the rest of your sentence die in your throat.

Hobi looked at you with pity in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I know you two were close. I figured you already knew. I wonder why he didn’t say anything…” When you didn’t offer him a response, he resumed cleaning the counters and gave you a much needed moment to process everything.

You sagged against the register and stared into the backroom at Jungkook’s deserted cubby, unable to believe the sudden news. Why wouldn’t he say goodbye? Your first instinct was to feel betrayed and used. You opened yourself up to him and took the risk of falling, and he wasn’t going to be there to catch you after all. But you knew you couldn’t blame him entirely, since the ball had been in your court the entire time.

After a couple minutes of silence, a group of customers walked in, so you tore yourself away from the backroom and focused on them, willing your tears not to fall, and they didn’t, at least not until you got into the bathtub later that day. Turns out, you had been Jungkook’s replacement.

[slashscowboyboots]

Happy Taco Truck: Ice Cream Dreamboat (Part 1)

(all photo credit goes to owners)

I know it’s only been months, but it feels like years since I’ve shared a fic!  This is a continuation of @no-stone-no-bone​‘s awesome fic Duff’s Doughnuts (link here).  I agree with Skyler, I’d love to see other writers write about the different food trucks and make this a series.  This was supposed to be a one-shot, but as I am physically incapable of writing short fics, this is a two-parter.  Buckle in!

Tag list: @izzysdenimjacket​ @no-stone-no-bone​ @sexcoffeeandrockandroll​ @awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands​ @smokeandmirrorz​ @sodalitefully​​ @roger-taylors-car​​  @harley-m-rose​ if you’d like to be tagged let me know, we all know how wonderful the tags work though

Warnings: language, sibling promiscuity, lonely cooking, terminal embarrassment, Axl and Tracii are Axl and Tracii

Thunk thunk thunk.

It was another scorcher inside your food truck, the vicious heat wafting off the griddle pummeling your face as you deftly raked your spatula through a pile of crisping beef tips, then piled them into a fluffy shell, handing it off for your sister Skyler to kiss with your award-winning cilantro lime crema and hand out to the customer.

You couldn’t resist moving up to the open side to watch the patron, a long-haired man wearing a nose chain with “Endless Burgers” stitched on his shirt, take a bite of your creation, then bend at the knees from ecstasy and dig a ten dollar bill from his pocket, stuffing it in your tip jar.

It has been gangbusters during the lunch rush in The Circle, the informal name given to the parking lot of ornery hooligans who fed the masses during the day and lingered behind late in the evening for a bit of recreational hell-raising. 

There was a plethora of culinary delights scattered around you, including Duff’s Doughnuts, Tracii and Phil’s Sno-Cones, Stoney & Cready’s Homewrecker Corndogs, and Jon and Richie’s Jersey Essentials (you never really knew what they were selling, apart from Aqua Net and the occasional cheesesteak, but after they began offering rippers-deep fried hot dogs-Skyler made frequent trips over to ask Richie if she could eat his weenie).  And from what you heard, they all knew how to throw down at night.

You never stayed to find out, though.  Your shyness forced you to fire up Helen the Happy Taco truck and drive home, leaving Skyler behind to do God-knows-what to who-knows-what, and you arrived in the mornings to find her either helping Kelly from Nickels’ BBQ feed his pink-painted porcine smoker, both of them covered in hickeys, or nearly trading blows with the loudmouth redhead who ran the ice cream truck.

Today, however, you’d found her with someone new.  When you pulled into the lot, you saw her with her arms wrapped around a guy with long hair wearing a flannel shirt and shorts, gazing raptly into his piercing blue eyes.  “Bye, Ed,” she murmured, pecking a kiss on his mouth.

“Who was that?” you asked, your eyebrows shooting skywards.

“Produce man,” she answered quickly.

“Were you getting us a good deal?’

“You know it.”

You peeled your gloves off and wiped your sweating face with a paper towel, trying to blot off as much grease as possible.  “I’m taking a break.  I need some ice cream.”

“I got you a frozen lemonade on my break.  It’s gonna taste like shit when you drink it with that ice cream.”

“I don’t care.”

“Punch that dick Axl in the face while you’re over there.  He’s on my last fucking nerve.”

You trudged down to “Axl and Izzy’s Frozen Delights,” eager to leave the brutal swelter inside your truck.  Standing in front of their window, you bent backwards and cracked your aching back, then a raspy voice asked, “Can I help you?”

You looked up into the most beautiful doe eyes you’d ever seen, hazel verging on gold in the afternoon sunlight, belonging to a guy with messy brown hair tied back with a bandanna, and suddenly your feet didn’t hurt anymore.  “Hi,” you said faintly.

“Hey,” he replied, smiling at you, and you felt your breath leave you.  “I’m Izzy, who might you be?”

“Y/N.”

“What can I get for you?”

Your brain instantly forgot how to make words.  “Cone,” you muttered.

His smile grew even bigger.  “What do you want in your cone?”

“Ice cream.”

He chuckled softly.  “What kind?”

“I don’t know.”

Those gorgeous eyes were full of merriment, crinkling at the corners.  “You don’t know?”

“No.”  Get ahold of yourself, you’re sounding like a moron.  “Uh, chocolate?”

“Sure.  I mean, as long as you’re sure about that.”  He winked at you, then turned to the freezer case behind him, and you got an exquisite view of his perfect ass, your mouth open and your breath coming in gasps, then he turned around and grinned, catching you mid-gawk, and you immediately wanted the earth to swallow you up.

“Thank you,” you blurted when he handed you your cone, then you turned to leave.  

“Uh, Y/N?”

“Uh huh?”  You couldn’t believe he was going to prolong putting up with your awkward ass.  

“Aren’t you going to pay me?”

“Oh,” you said, humiliation bringing a knot to your throat, and you handed him a crumpled pile of bills and scuttled away before you could cry.

“Sis, you mind if I head out a little early?” you asked.  “I’ve got a headache and I want to go home.”

“Sure.  I think we’re done for today.  You sure you’re okay?”

You hadn’t said a word all afternoon, just cooked and sweated and tried not to think about what a failure you were.  This was why you didn’t stick around at night, even though you longed to, to laugh and have fun with all the crazy characters around you.  Because you’d fuck it up if you did.

Why wasn’t I born normal? you thought bitterly.  Why am I the disaster in the family?

“Yeah,” you said quietly.  “I’m fine.”

That’s why your tacos were so delicious.  Because you were such a loser, you stayed home and perfected them instead of going out and having a life.  With no demands on your personal time, you discovered that lime made your chicken taco sing, while a little tomato sauce was the secret to juicier ground beef.

Your loneliness was the key to Happy Taco’s success.  

And you’d give everything you knew away just to be cool for five minutes.

“OPEN UP!!” a male voice hollered.  Bam!  Bam!  Bam!  “Little pig, little pig, let me in!”

Skyler dropped the hatch.  “Tracii!  Ferfucksakes!  We just got here!”

Tracii grinned under his bandanna.  “I wanna eat your taco.”

“It is an honor and a privilege to serve you a Happy Taco,” she answered, leaning on the counter and linking her fingers.  “However, we haven’t got anything set up and the only kind we can get you is our el pastor.”

“Okay,” he said, “gimme two,” and Skyler nodded to you.

You sliced the meat off the trompo, carefully evening out the sides, all the while reliving the embarrassment of the previous afternoon in your head.  Maybe you could drive Helen down to Baja California and start life anew, under a different name.

“Hey!” Tracii yelped, his eyes on you.  “I know you!  You’re the one Izzy was talking about last night,” and your knife nearly stabbed the metal pole holding up the pork and pineapple mass.

“Yeah,” he smiled lazily, “you are a looker, aren’t you?  How come you don’t party with us?  Izz said you seemed kinda shy.”

With your eyes wide and heart hammering, you handed the tacos to Skyler, whose mouth was hanging open in shock.

Before she could say anything, Tracii handed her his money and sauntered off, orgasmically moaning as he chewed, and Axl stepped up to the window.

“The fuck you want?” Skyler snapped.  “”It’s too early in the day for you to pick a fight, asshole.”

“I’m not here to fight,” he growled, slamming down a wad of dollars.  “This is from Izzy.  For her ice cream,” and he jutted his chin towards you.  “He says you eat for free at our truck.  The bo-both of you,”  he gritted, the agony of that idea etching deeply on his face.

“Thank you,” you smiled in surprise.

His eyes met yours, waving off your delight.  “Yeah, he’ll be down later.”

“Yes, thank you, Axl,” Skyler said.  “May we offer you an el pastor taco?”

“No,” he said, already retreating.  “Pork gives me the shits.”

Izzy did come by later, just in time for your sister to run off on her break.  

“Hi, Izzy,” you said, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Hey,” he smiled, looking delicious in his sunglasses.  “So what kind of tacos do you have?”

You recited the list.  “El pastor, carnitas, beef tips, seasoned ground beef, chicken, shrimp, and uh, lengua.”

“What’s that?”

“Uh, tongue.”

He pulled a face and stuck out his tongue, and you giggled, your shyness melting away at his goofiness.  “No, no, it’s really good.  Imagine the most tender, flavorful pot roast.  Everyone always orders seconds.”

“I think I’ll pass on the tongue, that one anyways, and have one shrimp and one chicken.  How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing.  Uh, you and Axl, you eat for free here too.  Thank you, by the way, that’s very generous.”

He grinned wider, and you noticed he’d hadn’t stopped smiling at you since he showed up.  “Don’t mention it.”

You opened the shrimp and chicken containers, then threw the meat down on the griddle and moved it around, forcing yourself to focus on sauteing and not burning down the fucking truck because Izzy was outside.

He peeked in the window, looking around the interior of the truck.  “So how long have you been cooking?”

“Oh, since I was small.  I was at a stove before I could see over it.  These are all my grandmother's recipes.”  You scooped the fillings into their shells, then grabbed the crema.  

“Hey, I only ordered two,” Izzy protested when you handed him his tacos in a cardboard to-go basket.

“One of the chicken ones is Axl’s.  Consider it a peace offering.”

“Thank you.  Hey, Y/N, I was wondering if-”

“Hey, Y/N, I was wondering if I could get some fucking service around here,” a mullet-sporting, Confederate flag t-shirt wearing asshole growled, and Izzy waved, then walked away.

He returned the next day, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day, working his way through your menu and bringing you a different-flavored milkshake each time.  He loved all of the tacos he tried, even daring to sample the beef tongue, then immediately ordered another one.

“Told you,” you grinned.

He always made conversation with you while you cooked, his eyes locked on yours as he ate, but every time he finished, there was always a line to tend to, and Skyler made herself scarce as soon as she spotted him.  You never returned to his truck for ice cream, and spent your downtime cleaning the flattop, lighting out as soon as you turned over the CLOSED sign.

“You know,” your sister said to you as you turned the key in the ignition, “if you stayed, you’d probably hook up with Izzy.”

“No,” you said sadly, “I’m a hot mess.  I’d say something stupid and he’d run away.”

“Can’t talk with his tongue in your mouth,” she teased, “or some other part.”

“SKYLER!” you shrieked as she cackled, then you sighed and leaned your head against the steering wheel.  “I’m not like you.”

“You don’t have to be,” she said, leaning over and stroking your hair.  “Just give him a chance.”

“I can’t stay here and have Helen be a-a sin wagon.”

“It’s not like we have orgies!” Skyler laughed.  “At least your man doesn't.  He plays guitar and Axl sings, when he’s not being a dumbass.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.  And then Izzy sings, and Kelly gives me The Look and……”

“Or the produce man shows up.”

“Or Eddie the produce man shows up.”  She gave you a slight smile.  “C’mon, Sis, stay.  He likes you.”

“He doesn’t know me.”

“Then get to know him.  Axl says he’s pining.”

You looked at her in surprise.  “When did you talk to Axl?”

“When he told me that chicken taco you gave him was the best thing he’s ever had.”

You smiled at his praise, drumming your fingertips on the steering wheel.  “Maybe I’ll stay sometime.”

“Pining,” Skyler said, then hopped off the truck.

[loverboytrashmouth]

Of Macchiatos and Nicknames (pt 1)

pairing; Reddie

word count; 1.6k

summary; Eddie doesn’t mind studying at the coffee shop as much as he thought he would.

a/n; part one of two of a little coffee shop meet cute because meet cutes are my fav and also i’m a barista so i think about this kinda au a lot. also read on ao3 if you’d like! enjoy :)

--

Eddie didn’t even like coffee that much. He’d really only drink it when he needed the caffeine to get him through a long night of studying. He hardly ever visited the campus coffee shop, and if he did it was because Bill would drag him out of bed earlier than necessary to make a stop there before their 8AM lectures. 

It wasn’t until one afternoon during midterms that Eddie began spending most of his free afternoons at the coffee shop.

It was a particularly windy October day, so Bill and Eddie decided they’d trade their usual study spot outside on their university’s great lawn area for the cozy coffee shop right on the outskirts of the main campus . Eddie couldn’t stand studying there; it was constantly full of loud students who would call themselves “study groups” when really it was just an excuse for them to drink their lattes and goof off. He had tried to convince Bill that they could just go to the library or back to their room, but Bill insisted he absolutely needed coffee, blaming it on his lack of sleep the night before.

“Just get me anything, I don’t care. I’m gonna get us a table,” Eddie said to Bill once they entered, already beginning to walk towards the mid-sized seating area. Bill gripped his upper arm and pulled him back.

“Definitely n-not. I’ll be h-halfway done my drink before you finish your dis-disinfecting routine,” Bill chuckled, earning a glare from Eddie. “I’ll go s-sit. You know my order. I promise, I’ll wuh-wipe down the table with the utmost c-care.” Eddie sighed in defeat, rolling his eyes at his friend’s teasing and lightly shoving him towards the seats. The shorter boy turned around towards the menu hanging on the wall, trying to figure out what the hell he was going to drink. His thoughts were interrupted by a voice coming from behind the counter.

“What’s your poison, ol’ chap,” it asked in a very obviously fake British accent. Eddie’s gaze trailed down to where the voice came from and his breath involuntarily hitched in his throat at the sight of the guy behind the register. He had disheveled curly black hair that contrasted - very nicely, Eddie noted - against his pale skin. He was tall, Eddie not needing to move his neck much from the position it was in to see the menu to look him in the eyes. The barista’s eyes, Eddie noted, were insanely large behind the thickly rimmed glasses that framed his face, but somehow he made them look good. Eddie’s eyes flicked down to the barista’s sharp jawline covered in messy stubble, his slightly chapped lips in a playful smirk.

“You gonna order something shortie, or are ya gonna just keep undressing me with your eyes,” the barista asked in his normal voice, the smirk never leaving his face. Eddie snapped out of his trance, feeling his face immediately heat up.

“Am I short or are you just freakishly tall,” Eddie shot back, his voice dripping with offense but he knew the color on his cheeks told the barista that he definitely had no ill feelings towards him. The taller boy shrugged.

“Tomayto tomahto, pretty boy,” he said with a wink. “Seriously though, whatcha havin’? It’s my duty to know.”

Eddie huffed out a chuckled at him and shook his head, before it dawned on him that he barely knew anything about coffee. Sure, he knew Bill’s order was called a “caramel macchiato,” but what if he said the fancy names of the sizes wrong and embarrassed himself? He was already anxious enough about ordering in the first place, customer service interactions being one of his least favorite things (he’s so glad his work study is in the library, stacking books with little to no human interaction). It didn’t help that the stupidly tall - and cute - barista was full force hitting on him like his life depended on making Eddie blush.

“Um, two mediu- no, grande, right. Two grande caramel macchiatos please,” Eddie finally decided after a few short beats of silence, mentally kicking himself when he realized what he said, because he hates caramel macchiatos. The barista tapped out his order on the register, taking a couple glances at Eddie as he did so.

“Alrighty, you got it. And what’s your name?” Eddie furrowed his eyebrows at this question, taken slightly aback even though it was no secret the barista had been flirting with him this entire conversation. The latter must have noticed Eddie’s confused reaction, as he clarified with a chuckle, “So we can call it out to let you know your order is ready.”

“Oh, right,” Eddie laughed, his cheeks heating up once more, this time more of embarrassment at his misunderstanding of the question’s intentions. He reached a shaky hand to the back of his neck, rubbing nervously as he answered. “It’s Eddie.”

The barista nodded his head, his grin growing wider as he typed Eddie’s name into the machine. Eddie began pulling cash out of his fanny pack when the barista interrupted his movements with his voice.

“Don’t worry about that, Eds. They’re on the house today.” Eddie tilted his head ever so slightly, his furrowed eyebrows returning once more.

“Did- did you just call me ‘Eds’,” he asked, receiving only a simple nod from the taller boy. “How’s it fair I have a nickname already when I don’t even know your real name?” The barista smirked that shit-eating smirk again, holding a hand out towards the smaller boy.

“Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier, at your service.” Eddie placed his own hand into Richie’s, the roughness of his dry skin making Eddie’s skin crawl, but in a good way.

“Nice to meet you, Rich,” Eddie replied with a smirk of his own, his eyebrows slightly raised. “Thanks for the coffees.”

“Anything for you, Eddie baby.” Another wink. God, Eddie’s face was so hot he thought he could probably fry an egg on it.

Eddie couldn’t hide the blush on his cheeks or the dumb smile that refused to leave his mouth as he walked over to the table Bill had chosen to set up study camp at. Bill watched as the smaller boy sat across from him and began placing books on the table, attempting to cover his smile with his arm.

“Wuh-wow, Eddie. I haven’t seen you blush like that since our s-sex ed course in high school,” Bill teased with a slight laugh. Eddie’s face heated up even more at the memory, as well as the fact that he’d been caught basically swooning over Richie.

“Shut it, Bill. You got those notes I missed when I was sick?” Despite Eddie’s attempt to change the subject matter, Bill pressed on.

“It was the barista, wuh-wasn’t it? I could s-see the way he was looking at you from all the way over-”

“Wait, how was he looking at me,” Eddie interrupted without thinking, his eyes full of hope. Bill laughed some more at his eagerness.

“Y-You’re kidding, right? I’m s-surprised he didn’t jump over the counter and attack you into a m-makeout session right then and there.” Eddie’s eyes widened at Bill, before glancing over his shoulder to look at the barista again as he was making their drinks. He must’ve felt eyes on him, because not even five seconds after Eddie turned his head, Richie looked up from the espresso machine he was working with and the two locked eyes. Eddie immediately snapped his head back around, but not before noticing the smirk that returned to Richie’s lips. Bill shot him a knowing look.

“Okay, he flirted with me hardcore and yes he’s absolutely my type but if I don’t study for this midterm I won’t be able to think about him with calc on the brain 24/7. Notes, please,” Eddie spat out at high speed, a habit he had since he was a preteen that occurred whenever he got flustered.

Bill passed the page of math notes over with an eyebrow wiggle, but Eddie didn’t get a chance to even glance at them before hearing an obnoxiously loud voice behind him call out, “ORDER UP FOR A SIR EDDIE SPAGHETTI.” Eddie mentally facepalmed at the nickname usage before getting up and walking back to the counter.

“Really? Eddie Spaghetti?” Eddie couldn’t resist the laugh in his voice or fond smile as he shook his head at Richie. Richie, in return, held the coffees out to him, and shrugged his shoulders with a grin.

“Cute nickname for a cute boy,” he commented casually. Eddie couldn’t believe how smooth this thick-glasses wearing, awkwardly lanky dude could be, especially when he felt as though he could burst with every sentence uttered by said thick-glasses wearing, awkwardly lanky dude.

“So, uh,” Richie started once Eddie had taken the coffee cups from his hands, their fingers brushing lightly and lingering a bit too long. Eddie noticed his ever so slight change in demeanor, leaving bold and flirty and inching more towards reserved and… nervous? “Can I expect to see you around here again any time soon?”

The sincerity Eddie heard Richie speak within that sentence made his heart flutter, as well as whatever anxieties he still felt in his stomach to slowly dissipate. With that statement Eddie realized he wasn’t just aimlessly being flirted with, but that this could actually, maybe, mean something a little more?

“You sure can, Trashmouth,” Eddie replied with a warm look in his eyes. Richie perked up at the nickname, his cheeks going pink as Eddie walked back to his table.

“Dude, I thought you hated caramel m-macchiatos,” Bill commented when he saw the identical coffees his friend was holding, but Eddie barely heard him. He was too busy stealing glances back at the barista.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Eccentricity [Chapter 5: I’ve Lived The Life And Paid For Every Crime]

Series Summary: Joe Mazzello is a nice guy with a weird family. A VERY weird family. They have a secret, and you have a choice to make. Potentially a better love story than Twilight.

Chapter Title Is A Lyric From: Some Kind Of Disaster by All Time Low.

Chapter Warnings: Language, references to drugs and violence.

Other Chapters (And All My Writing) Available: HERE

Tagging: @queen-turtle-boiii​​​​ @bramblesforbreakfast​​​​​ @writerxinthedark​ @maggieroseevans​​​​​ @culturefiendtrashqueen​​​​​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​​​​​ @escabell​​​​​ @im-an-adult-ish​​​​​ @someforeigntragedy​​​​​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​​​​​​​​​ @deacyblues​​​​​ ​ @tensecondvacation​​​​​​ @brianssixpence​​​​​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @some-major-ishues​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @loveandbeloved29​

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! 💜

Easy Questions, Evasive Answers

“So it was nothing,” Archer said, glancing up from where he was tinkering around beneath the hood of my 1999 Honda Accord, checking hoses and belts and dipsticks. “This is pathetic, by the way. That you can’t change your own windshield wiper fluid. Dishonor on you. Dishonor on your cow.”

“I never had my own car in Phoenix!” I objected around a mouthful of a Starbucks pumpkin muffin, my first of the season. And that was true: Renee and I couldn’t afford one. “I didn’t have to learn about car things!”

“No, it’s great, I love it, I have a customer for life.”

“It was totally nothing,” I told him. Meaning the photograph in the newspaper article from 1979. Meaning my paranoia surrounding beautiful, brooding, certifiably lethal Benjamin Lee.

Not Lee, I reminded myself. Benjamin August Hardy, born November 3rd 1893.

“Was it really?” Archer asked, skeptical.

“Uhhh, you were the one who was making fun of me for thinking he might be a time traveler. Or a bigfoot.” Or a vampire.

“Yeah, okay, true...” He let the hood of the Honda fall shut with a bang, then wiped the muddy streaks of motor oil from his hands with a stained rag. “But you were freaked out. Like super freaked out.”

“I was, yeah. But it wasn’t him in the photo. I took another look, there were freckles and, uh, like, uh, some other things that didn’t match up.”

“Huh.” Archer watched me with an expression I couldn’t read. “I didn’t notice that.”

“Ben laughed about it. Probably thinks I’m an idiot. A stalker and an idiot.”

Archer smirked slyly. “He must not have held it against you too much. I’ve never seen that guy laugh in my life.”

I took a moody bite of my muffin, rolled my eyes, feigned shallow schoolgirl angst. “Trust me, he’s not my biggest fan.”

“Ohhhh, and this bothers you?” Archer sauntered over and stole a crumbling hunk out of the pumpkin muffin. “Does someone have a little crush on the gorgeous, grouchiest Lee?”

“Definitely not.” I sipped my chai latte, contemplative, debating telling him more.

“Uh oh. There’s something else, I can see it. Spill the tea, you walking college-chick-who’s-obsessed-with-fall stereotype.”

“I’m so excited! I’m going to get to see changing leaves this year!” Cacti are majestic, ancient, intrepid, and they remind me of home; but they never change. They’re like desert earth that way, like the ocean. Like vampires, actually.

“We’ll have to do all the Instagram-worthy stuff. Pumpkin patches. Hay mazes. Apple picking...you can even bring that Ben guy if you want to. If he promises not to murder me with his mysterious time-travelling demon powers.”

Oh, kid, you have no idea. “So...I am kind of into a Lee guy. But it’s not Ben.”

Archer gasped, inhaled pumpkin muffin morsels, bent over as he hacked them out of his lungs. “Who?!” he rasped, scandalized, and then coughed again.

I couldn’t help but smile as his name spilled out: “Joe.”

“Which one is that? The Middle Eastern Men’s Vogue model one?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “No, not Rami. He has a girlfriend, by the way.” And has for the past half a century.

Archer wiggled his eyebrows. “Just because there’s a goalie doesn’t mean you can’t score.”

“Oh my god, please never say that phrase again.”

“Joe is the...” He closed his eyes as he drummed his fingers against the metal workbench, trying to remember.

“The Italian one,” I finished for him.

“Ahhh. The annoying one.”

“He is not annoying! Why do people keep saying he’s annoying?! He’s hilarious, and sweet, and lowkey wicked smart, and, and, and...”

Archer whistled, grinning, his dark eyes sparkling. “Damn, girl. You do like him. You really like him.”

I sighed in defeat. “Okay. I really, really like him.”

“Like him as in would swipe right on Tinder, or like him as in you want to get married and honeymoon in Hawaii and have twelve pasty, angular babies?”

“Oh wow.” And for the first time, I was confronted with the singular enigma that was a future with Joe. Vampires had relationships with other vampires, obviously, even marriages; but that didn’t mean the same rules applied to humans. Did he like me? Could he like me? What would that even look like? How would it end? And it would have to end, of course, eventually. Unless somehow I stopped aging too. “More than just a right swipe. We’ll see about the twelve kids.”

“Just make sure he wraps it before he taps it. I’m too young to be an uncle.”

“Stop,” I pleaded, gulping down my latte, averting my gaze across Archer’s small garage filled with customers’ vehicles, pretending not to be intrigued and yearning and petrified. I couldn’t imagine hooking up with someone as faultless and—presumably—experienced as Joe and being anything but a disappointment. I’ve never hooked up with anyone. At all. Ever.

“What?” he asked, concerned, thieving another piece of my pumpkin muffin. Powdered sugar dusted his fingers like the snow I’ve only seen two or three times in my life.

“Nothing. I just really wish you went to Calawah too.”

“And give up all this easy money from clueless suburbs people like you?” Archer beamed, wily and proud and affectionate. “Not a fucking chance.”

No More Sad Spaghetti

Joe gawked in horror, chomping noisily on his Big League Chew bubblegum, as I unwrapped the peanut butter sandwich I’d packed for lunch. It was mostly cloudy in the early September sky overhead, but he was still wearing sunglasses. He had traded in his ubiquitous U Chicago apparel for a Cubs t-shirt. Squirrels scurried through the bigleaf maple trees that dotted the campus, snatching up acorns with tiny clawed paws, wriggling whiskered noses in our direction.

“What’s your problem?” I asked, taking a bite. “It’s not sad spaghetti.”

He blew a small pink bubble, then popped it with his teeth. “Yeah, but it’s...like...mangled.”

“It got trapped between my textbooks!” I protested. Admittedly, the accordion-shaped peanut butter sandwich—my vegetarian alternative to fishstick Thursday—kind of sucked.

“You can’t eat that. Oh my god. It’s making me so sad. Give it to the squirrels.” Joe pulled out his iPhone. “What’s your preferred pizza topping?”

“I can’t tell you,” I replied, tossing my sandwich towards the nearest tree. A hoard of squirrels immediately descended upon it and proceeded to battle for dominance, emitting shrill, peanut-butter-crazed shrieks.

His brow furrowed. “Why can’t you tell me?”

“Because you might not like me anymore.”

“Why would I not like you because of pizza...?” And then he knew. “Oh no, oh god, please don’t say pineapple.”

“I’m a pineapple pizza person.”

“Baby Swan,” Joe said, deadly serious, pressing his palms together. “That is straight up sacrilegious. You can’t put tropical fruit on a pizza. You realize I’m Italian, like an actual Italian. I’m so Italian I’ve killed other Italians for being the wrong kind of Italian. That’s how Italian I am.”

“I feel like maybe I shouldn’t socialize with literal mobsters. It’s unsavory.”

“Settle down, I’m ordering the half-pineapple pizza, you freaking barbarian.”

I watched Joe as he tapped his thumbs against the screen, humming to himself, amused, perpetually buoyant. And I couldn’t picture him as a monster, as a killer: pulling triggers, slitting throats, digging blades into soft vulnerable love handles, feeling for the mortal puncture of a lung or kidney. I asked him, my voice quiet, hesitant, almost lost in the autumn wind: “Did you actually hurt people?”

“Nah. I didn’t have the stomach for it, even back then. I was on the deal-making side of things. The business side. I was a people person, a smooth talker, astronomically charming.”

I smiled, mischievous. “That’s difficult to imagine.”

“Okay, so no cheesy breadsticks for you.”

“I’m sorry, mob guy. Please order the breadsticks. You’re so charming I can’t stand it. My jeans are unzipping all by themselves.”

He raised an eyebrow and grinned. “So you’ll sacrifice your dignity for breadsticks. Good to know.” He finished typing and laid his iPhone on the grass. “Alright, next question.”

“Does your hair grow?” Joe’s hair—I couldn’t help but notice—seemed longer than it was the day I met him a week and a half ago, disorderly and auburn-tinted, ruffling in the breeze.

“It does, yeah. Hair and nails still grow. So you have to shave, but you can’t get razor burn. And any nicks close right up.”

“Very cool. How often do you need to eat? You know...actually eat.”

“It varies, but generally twice a week.”

“And what kind of animal has the tastiest blood? Besides...well...” I gestured towards myself. “The upright two-legged kind with opposable thumbs and a partiality for pineapple pizza.”

He blew another bubble, then leaned in towards me. And I realized, for the first time, that he had his own inherent, exclusive, totally Bath-And-Body-Works-worthy scent as well; Dr. Gwilym Lee was sandalwood and campfires and log cabins, Mercy was roses and vanilla...and Joe was pine trees, peppermint, cold night air, like all of that eternally youthful magic of Christmas Eve sieved into a bottle. I popped the sheer pink bubble with the cap of my blue pen. Joe asked: “Do humans like chocolate or vanilla ice cream? Coffee or tea? Baseball or something hella lame?”

“Depends on the human.”

“Exactly. Same deal for vampires. I prefer bears, especially grizzlies. Lucy and Mercy like deer, elk, moose, animals like that. Ones with hooves. Weirdly, Rami’s favorite is crocodile, I think because it was the first thing he ever tried in Egypt. He doesn’t get it very often, but has been known to buy them on the black market on occasion. Scarlett likes mountain lions. Also domestic cats, but you didn’t hear that from me. Gwil is a wolf guy, but he won’t kill the endangered kinds. Such a gentleman.”

“How about Ben?”

“Ben’s still coming around to the whole eating animals thing. I don’t think he has a favorite yet.”

Joe isn’t a killer, and he never was; I could believe that. But Ben... “Why is he so different than the rest of you?”

“That’s...kind of a long story,” Joe replied carefully.

“It wouldn’t be such a long story if people stopped talking about how it’s a long story and actually told it to me.”

He flashed a grin, revealing white canine teeth filed into points; they were subtle, yes, but they were there. Fangs. I envisioned pressing a fingerprint against them and feeling the flesh split in two, the blood dripping down onto his tongue like Washington rain. And unlike Joe’s skin, mine wouldn’t knit back together on its own. “But then I wouldn’t have the pleasure of tormenting you with the prospect of incredibly juicy yet confidential information!”

I rolled my eyes, sipped my can of Diet Coke, returned my attention to our lunch plans. “So garlic doesn’t repel you. That part of the lore is completely made up.”

“Yup. Thank god. Eternal life would be worthless without pizza.”

“Can you do drugs? Get drunk?”

“We can’t overdose, but we can get the effects of anything we consume. It’s not a good habit to get into though. If you’re nodding on heroin for like four days at a time, it’s pretty easy for some other vampire to find and murder you.”

“So a vampire can be killed by another vampire.”

“Absolutely. Next question.”

I consulted my mental list. “Do you sleep?”

“Yeah. Well, kind of. We nap for a few hours a day.”

“What happens if you don’t?”

“We get bitchy. Really bitchy. We essentially turn into Ben.”

I laughed, chewing absentmindedly on the end of my pen. “So that’s his problem. He hasn’t napped in a century. Now it all makes sense.”

“Something like that,” Joe said. “You gonna come over tonight?”

“I don’t know. I’m supposed to present The Walruses And Me tomorrow and I still haven’t started the book.”

“What do you know, I can tell you all about The Walruses And Me!”

“Seriously? You’ve read it?”

“No, but I can enthusiastically narrate the Wikipedia article to you while you pet Mercy’s alpacas.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“Terrible for your grade in Marine Mammals. Good for your development as an interesting and happy human.”

“Nice try, but I’m already both of those things.”

Joe reached out suddenly, jarringly, and ran the back of his hand across my cheek. My favorite Lee, I thought, thoroughly transfixed but trying to hide it. Oh no. “Interesting, definitely. But I have this gnawing, distressing suspicion that you’re still working on the happy part.”

“I miss the desert,” I confessed. That wasn’t quite all of the problem, but it was accurate: I missed the heat, the sun, the parched prehistoric air I had always called home. Although I was beginning to find reasons to like Forks, Charlie and Archer and the promise of a Pacific Northwestern autumn; and then one big reason in particular. A very old, pale, chatty, Italian reason.

“A bit of a quandary for a future marine biologist,” he replied gently, perhaps apprehensively.

“I always figured I’d live somewhere like San Diego or Los Angeles or Galveston. Someplace on the ocean, but also sunny and hot and with palm trees. The best of both worlds. But you couldn’t go there with me, could you?”

Oh no.

Oh NO.

Oh fuck, this is definitely a crushing-on-Lee-boys zone.

Joe stared at me through his sunglasses, chomping on his Big League Chew, the corners of his mouth turned up and etching lines like parentheses into his face, pleased and nodding slowly and triumphant somehow. Then he struck out his hand again, this time with his pinky raised like a flagpole. “No more pathetic depressing lunches.”

“You got it. No more sad spaghetti. No more sad peanut butter sandwiches. You have my solemn, human vow.”

He smiled as his pinky entwined with mine. “No more sad anything.”

“So this vampire thing sounds like a pretty sweet gig. No dying, no consequences for a hellacious diet or wild condomless orgies, literal superpowers, perfect hair...why doesn’t everyone get to live that way?”

He shrugged; and there was an unfamiliar, meditative tension in his face. Almost sorrow. “It’s not all pizza and orgies and heroin. We have weaknesses too.”

“Like what?”

“Hey, look!” Joe piped cheerfully, twisting around towards the parking lot. “I think our GrubHub guy is here.”

Bad Blood

I was definitely regretting that fourth slice of pineapple pizza as I waddled into Chemistry, navigating sluggishly around the hulking frat boys and giggling sorority girls and mousy bookish types who lugged around colossal backpacks that were always threatening to knock an unsuspecting passerby off their feet at each unthinking turn. But while I was arriving in the classroom—physically, anyway; emotionally I was standing in an empty field somewhere screaming I cannot be falling in love with a hundred-year-old mobster vampire!! into the void—Ben was a countercurrent darting through the crowds and towards the hallway door.

“Where are you rushing off to, old guy?” I asked him. “Bingo? To renew your AARP membership? To walk vigorously around the inside of a mall?”

Ben responded in that deep, low, humorless voice. “They’re doing some kind of blood typing experiment today. I probably shouldn’t be around for that.”

“Oh.” I glanced over at Professor Belvin, who was indeed hunched over the table at the front of the classroom and laying out rows of Q-tips and rectangular paper cards and alcohol swabs and bottles of clear liquid, whistling what sounded like Time Of The Season.

Ben sighed irritably, rubbing his crinkled forehead. “I already used up all my absences. I’m gonna have to make up a compelling last-minute tragedy. Tell Professor Belvin my grandma died or something.”

“I mean, technically, she did at some point.”

“Ugh,” Ben replied, not consoled at all.

“Wait, I got this.”

I gripped my belly, sank into the nearest chair, and groaned dramatically. It really didn’t require all that much acting. Ben watched with huge green eyes, confounded.

“Miss Swan!” Professor Belvin cried, rushing over. He was wearing khaki pants, a white shirt, and suspenders and a matching bowtie patterned with bubbling multicolored test tubes. Belvin had been Charlie’s classmate from kindergarten through high school, and still palled around with him over Bud Lights and low-quality nachos on bowling league nights. Bowling was, evidently, the sport of choice for middle-aged Forks dads. Also for Welsh vampire pseudo-dads born in the 1400s.

I whimpered in reply.

“Are you alright, Miss Swan?” Professor Belvin asked worriedly. A few students had begun to congregate around the scene. I felt a pang of genuine nausea as perspiration beaded at my temples. You better appreciate this, Mr. Hardy.

“I’m okay,” I said, in my most pained and martyrish voice. “I don’t want to miss...today’s lesson...it looks so fascinating...but I didn’t wash my kale thoroughly last night and then I had a salad for dinner and now I might have food poisoning.”

“You poor thing!” Belvin exclaimed, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about class. You can just answer some textbook questions or something, no problem. Please go get checked out to make sure you’re alright.”

“Could someone...maybe...help me get to the campus clinic...?” My eyes listed towards Ben. “Maybe...my lab partner?”

“That’s a good idea.” Professor Belvin turned to Ben. “Mr. Lee, would you be willing to escort Miss Swan to the clinic? You can do an alternative assignment as well. If you don’t mind missing the blood typing lab.”

“I’d be delighted to help,” Ben responded, still puzzled. I offered him my hand, and Ben took it, grimacing as he led me out into the hallway. As soon as we were alone, he dropped my hand and opened up several feet of space between us.

“Thanks so much, Miss Swan, you are a lifesaver,” I said, imitating his morose, rumbling British accent. “Oh, you’re very welcome, Ben. You can repay me in basic courteous conversation and Starbucks gift cards and by maybe not killing me.”

“So you’re totally fine?” Ben asked flatly.                

“Of course. Nobody with taste eats raw kale.”

Frowning, frustrated, he started puffing on his vape pen. “You need to stop doing nice things for me. It’s extremely disorienting.”

“This may be difficult for you to come to terms with, but you, Ben Hardy, are worth being the recipient of nice things.”                          

“No, you still don’t get it,” he snapped, grabbing my wrist, spinning me around to face him in the empty hallway. “That’s all I’ve ever done. Kill people like you.”

The Fire

“Who is the cutest little alpaca I’ve ever seen?!” I cooed in a squeaky falsetto, scratching her wooly brown chin. “Who’s going to come home and live with me and Charlie forever?!”

“That’s illegal, ma’am.” Joe was watching me, arms crossed over his Chicago Cubs t-shirt, smiling wistfully.

“It is not!”

“It actually is,” Rami added. He was lying on the grass and gazing up into the roiling, grey, late-afternoon clouds with his fingers laced behind his black hair. None of the Lees were wearing sunglasses now. “A house has to be zoned as farmland to have alpacas, which ours is. Yours, tragically, is not.”

“What are you, a lawyer?” I shot back.

Rami grinned. “I was once. And I will be again, in approximately...let me count...five years.”

“That’s what you want to do with your boundless time and energy? Be a corporate shill?”

Joe cackled. “He tried that already. It lasted about five minutes.”

“Manhattan in the 1980s,” Rami reminisced dreamily. “Hundred-hour workweeks. Cocaine everywhere. What a time to be alive. And I hardly ever left the office, so the sunlight thing wasn’t a problem.”

“Okay, so you’re not in it for the Maseratis or the drugs...”

“I’m going to be an immigration attorney,” Rami told me. “Help refugees apply for asylum to come to the United States. Arabic-speaking refugees, in particular.”

“Wow. I stand corrected. That’s wonderful, Rami. I now feel like a total tool for only aspiring to save sea turtles.” But it made sense, of course. What would any good person spend eternity doing? Making the world just a tiny bit better. I glanced at Joe, teasing him. “And you just study how to get rich, huh?”

“I’m a venture capitalist,” he said brightly. “I invest in small businesses, counsel them, encourage them, connect them with other people in the industry, help them grow. And I don’t need the money, so I take a practically microscopic equity stake. I’m basically a professional charitable donor.”

“And you get to put all of those charming mob-guy skills to use.”

Joe winked. “Exactly.”

“Doesn’t it get old?” I asked both of them. “Being college students?”

Rami shrugged. “No really. The world changes, schools of thought evolve, our own interests fluctuate. Every few decades we circle back and go for another round, fresh degrees, maybe new professions entirely. You learn something new every time.”  

“And I’ve been waiting for all my old professors to die so I could go back to U Chicago for fifty years!” Joe shouted. “I’m fucking pumped!”

“But...don’t you already know everything...?”

Joe chuckled. “We’re vampires, Baby Swan, we’re not prodigies. We’re sharper than the average person, sure. But it still takes effort to learn. And we all have things we suck at.”

“Like not being obnoxious,” Rami said, nodding to Joe.

“Like not minding our own fucking business,” Joe hurled back.

“I cannot control the fact that I’m a literal mind reader—”

“You boys behave yourselves,” Mercy called in her relaxed, drawling Southern accent, swinging a basket of carrots and zucchinis and cabbages that she’d dug out of her garden, wearing a long flowing yellow dress and her hair tied up in a scarf. She plodded over in her bare feet, handed me a few carrots, then pointed to the chocolate-colored alpaca I was petting. “That lady there is Athens. And the black and white one by Joe is Augusta. Then there’s Norcross, and Alpharetta, and Savannah...and that real chubby grey one heading into the barn is Marietta.”

“I adore them,” I replied, beaming. Mercy had sheep and pigs and a couple of cows too, all ambling contently around the emerald green field as the first threads of fiery, rust-hued sunset were lighting up the horizon.

“We used to have ducks, too,” Mercy mused. “But they disappeared recently...”

Rami passed Joe a knowing smirk. Joe mouthed back menacingly: Do not.

“Hey mom,” Rami piped.

Joe jabbed an index finger at him. “No, don’t you dare, don’t you fucking dare—”

“Joe ate the ducks.”

“You bitch!” Joe cried.

“Oh, Joseph,” Mercy sighed mournfully, lifting a brush out of her basket and dragging it down Athens’ fuzzy back.

“I’m sorry! It was one time! I was weak!”

“I’m not angry, sweetheart,” Mercy said. “I’m just disappointed.”

“Mom, that’s worse!”

Rami climbed to his feet and swatted grass and leaves off his cardigan sweater. “Alright folks. My work here is done. Peace out.”

“Oh no, you don’t get to do a hit and run like that, hey, Rami, hey, hey, come back here!”

Joe trotted after him, shouting a litany of insults, as Rami laughed hysterically and careened into the house. Lucy and Gwil were in the kitchen baking chocolate chip cookies; Scarlett was in the garage changing the brakes on Ben’s Vantage; Ben was noticeably absent from the Lee household and presumably out hunting. It was remarkably easy to picture his fingers closing around bloodied flesh, a wolf’s or a bear’s or an elk’s, lowering his fangs to a pulsing jugular.

“So you’re really into this whole farming thing,” I said to Mercy, looking out over the field rimmed by towering western hemlock trees. I didn’t know exactly how many acres of land the Lees owned, but it was a lot. Mercy adopted rescue animals, donated vegetables from the garden to local food pantries, and occasionally rented out the barn as a wedding venue.

“I’ve always loved it. I had a farm, you know. Before I met Gwil.”

Before she died.

“I didn’t know that,” I murmured, wanting to learn more, afraid to ask, never meaning to pry or offend. “I remember you mentioned the Civil War, and a barn...being...well...being trapped in it. When it burned down.”

Mercy nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, that’s the polite version of the story, isn’t it?” She set down her basket in the tall grass, tugged distractedly at a dark strand of hair that had escaped her scarf, stared glassily out into the sunset muted with cloud cover as Athens moseyed away. “Do you want to know what happened? I’ll tell you if you do. But I don’t want to upset you, dear.”

My voice was barely a whisper. “I’d like to know.”

“We had a little farm out in the middle of nowhere,” Mercy explained. “My husband Arthur and I.”

And it felt so outlandish to hear her say those words. Husband. She had a husband before Gwil. She had a whole life before this one.

“He had a bullet in one leg and a limp from a hunting accident when he was a boy, so he was never called up to enlist. It was a rich man’s war, but it was the poor men they sent to die in it. That’s how it always goes, I expect. And how it always will. We had two daughters, twelve and fifteen. I won’t tell you their names. Don’t take that personally, dear. I haven’t spoken their names in a hundred and fifty years.”

She turned her murky eyes—like homemade bread crust or coffee or the wood walls of a log cabin—to me.

“When the Union Army came through, they were beasts. Men like that...men who have been killing and looting and burning their way across hundreds of miles...all they want to do is get blood on their hands. That’s all they remember how to do. So that’s exactly what they did. They slaughtered our cattle for meat. They burned the house down. And then they took me and my girls, and they...they...well, you know what they did. What men do when they’re monsters. And when Arthur tried to stop them, they shot him in the chest and spit mouthfuls of chewing tobacco on him as he bled out in the dirt. Called him a coward and a deserter. Told him everything they were planning to do to me and my girls. And when they were done doing all of those things, they locked the three of us in the barn and set it ablaze. I was the only one still alive when Gwilym got there. And believe me, I didn’t want to be.”

“I’m so sorry,” I breathed, my throat burning for Mercy, for her family, for this divinely kind and benign and tender woman.

She patted my cheek fondly. “It’s alright, sweetheart. It’s not your fault. I got a second chance. Gwilym gave me a second chance. That’s what he does, you know. He finds broken people, fixes them, loves them fiercely. He gave me forever. Two more daughters. And three sons.”

Three sons, I thought. Rami and Joe and Ben. She counted Ben.

“Does someone have to be dying?” I asked her softly. “You know. To become like you.”

“No, honey. That’s just how Gwil does things.”

“But...why? What’s the possible downside? Why not change anyone who wants it?” Why not change someone like me?

And Mercy peered over at me, contemplative, curious, like tiptoeing gingerly over rotted floorboards, like weaving through a minefield. Like she was trying to figure out what I’d already been told.

“Hey Baby Swan,” Joe said, startling me. I whirled to see him waiting with a patient smile and his hands buried in his pockets. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

He led me upstairs to Gwil’s 1960s-style office, where Dr. Lee had cleaned and stitched the tiny gash in my forehead after my misadventure with Ben in the woods outside Calawah University, where the wall above the sturdy oak desk was adorned with a massive painting filled with gorgeous, unfamiliar, inhuman faces. Joe took a deep breath, and then he began.

“This,” he announced, introducing the painting, “is the vampire version of the mob. They can trace their existence back to before the Roman Empire. They find people who they think have potential, have talents. They turn them. And then they offer them a hundred-year contract. You sign it, or they murder you. When your term is up, you get to decide whether to renew or leave. But almost no one ever leaves. After a century of taking orders and guarding and killing, what else do you know how to do?” He pointed to the terrifying woman with long white hair and red eyes. “That’s Liesl. She’s literally Satan, only blonder. The chick with the tattoos is Akari. She can meet a human and tell what powers they’ll have once they’re changed. Very useful, obviously. The dude who looks like Idris Elba is Cato, and he’s actually an okay guy, he’s the one currently assigned to keep tabs on Gwil’s coven...”

I soaked the names in like rain into dark, lush Washington earth as Joe relayed them to me, strange and beautiful names: Aruna, Phelan, Morana, Adair, Zora, Araminta, Honora, Victorien, Rigel, Sahel.

“Who’s that?” I asked, gesturing to the young man standing at the center of the painting, the one with black hair and eyes so light and luminous a brown they were almost gold and a sinister, unmistakable magnetism.

“Very good question,” Joe complimented. “That’s their Al Capone. That’s Larkin.”

“And what’s his vampire superpower?” He has to have one. I know he does.

“How do I even put that into words? It’s more than charisma. It’s slightly less than mind reading. He can see through people, what they want most, what they fear. And he can make them do things.”

I gazed into those omniscient glowing eyes, feeling myself getting caught there, feeling some primal dread swelling in the capillary beds of my heart and lungs and bone marrow. “Joe, I’m thoroughly enjoying this captivating backstory, really, but...why are you telling me all of this now?”

“Because you asked why Ben is so different than the rest of us. This is why.” Joe waved broadly at the painting, at the closest thing his world had to a mafia, to unrepentant killers, to actual demons. “This is where he came from.”

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Teller of Tales

The trio head through the portal to explore Danny's brand spanking new Sanctuary and are a little awed by all that he managed to make.  They meet a facinating new ghost, who has a deal for them.

ao3

When Danny took Sam and Tucker through the portal and into his Sanctuary, he was glad to see that he wasn’t the only one floored by how much of it there was, or how complex it had turned out. “I don’t think I’ve ever even made a drawing this complicated and detailed before,” he said as they reached the roof of the main portal building and house. It was at the heart of what looked to be a town or maybe even a city, which was surrounded by a dense forest, with a mountain to one side, a massive body of water that Danny would call a lake but that looked so vast an ocean felt more appropriate on the other, and even misty clouds of every kind of color he could see passing by a point of brilliant light. “I’m glad it’s been keeping Walker out as much as it has, and every other ghost too. That means we can explore it!”

“Danny, this place is magnificent!” Tucker wrapped him up in a tight hug and squeezed nearly hard enough to crack his back. “Dude, you made a whole ass town that’s almost as big as Amity Park! I wonder how stocked up this place is. You’ve got copies of our hoverboards here too, so what are we waiting for?”

“I say we take a look at that forest, it’s practically screaming ‘enchanted and full of mystery’, and maybe we can even figure out what all goes on in that head of yours.” Sam poked Danny’s head with a laugh and called up her own backup hoverboard, hopping over the ledge and onto it before Tucker could catch up. Tucker, of course, swerved off to see if he could find anything substantial in the town, which meant splitting up, which had Danny reaching out to grab them both.

“Guys hold up! Are we really gonna go into a freshly made place that I made mostly subconsciously while in ghost form and do it while splitting up? Are we the Scooby gang?”

“Take full offense from this but you’re baby,” Tucker said with a snort. “Your subconscious mind didn’t come up with anything that might hurt us.”

“Maybe not on purpose, but I might’ve made some parts of this place uninhabitable to regular humans, but perfectly safe for a ghost to be floating around in.” After all, a ghostly mind set deeply into a Passion could easily forget things like safety regulations for squishy humans. Young Blood wasn’t even malicious or Obsessive and look at how he’d turned out.

Sam rolled her eyes but circled back around to the boys. “Fine, we can stick together and tour your McMansion together, you lil show off, but if so then how about we take a look at the edges to see what we can learn about how well defended this place is? It’s meant to be your Sanctuary, so you’ve gotta have some way of keeping ghosts out without just shotting at them.”

“We can work our way through the town and out into the forest, guys, you know that right? We’re literally starting from the middle.” Danny sighed, shaking his head. “The defenses are clearly working because nothing’s actually done anything to us yet, they can wait.”

It took a bit of back and forth but eventually, they all decided on a direction to go and headed for the lake instead of the mountain. After all, if the water was safe for humans, they could all go for a swim. The trio set off and found what looked to be empty homes, some buildings that could be shops, a few restaurants that just needed stocking up and customers, and other places that looked all but ready to be populated by people stuck on the ground and people who could fly. There was a warehouse full of Focuses, cameras, and replicas of every robot or project that Danny and Tucker had ever put together before, along with a few that stored Fentonworks non-violent products too. “This place looks like someone’s fantasy dream town where you can sit, relax, chat up a ghost, and then head off into the unknown in your very own - oh wow, Danny is that the Specter Speeder?”

“Well, I may have gone over Mom and Dad’s blueprints a while back for it, but only because I wanted to see if I could develop ya know, a space ship from it.” Danny felt his cheeks burning and gave Tucker’s shoulder a light punch to try and wipe the grin off his face. “Shut up.”

“Actually, the closer we get to the forest, the more ‘port town’ vibes I’m getting,” Sam mused. “Danny, didn’t you say you wanted to be a pirate once when you were a kid?”

“Shut uuup, noo.” Danny pulled his hood over his face, even as he turned invisible. Ok, so maybe it did look like the perfect place for a pirate who hit land on an undiscovered island to have set up their own little town. That proved nothing.

Just as Sam opened her mouth to keep teasing him, Danny popped into visibility and transformed entirely, shooting into the air with plasma gathered in his hands. It felt like the pull of some massive celestial object focused on him and his sanctuary alone, getting closer and closer, and Danny was all but certain he couldn’t do much on his own against it. He reached into his Sanctuary, felt it reach back, and begged it to hide . The partly cloudy sky went dark, the clouds now stretching over the whole expanse of the island, and in the mountain, Danny could feel the hum of railguns warming up and ready to fire like Danny couldn’t on his own.

The clouds were parted by something vast and incomprehensible that sung every song never known by mortal ears, and looking at it was looking upon all that had ever happened throughout the whole of humanity, listening to every story ever told to another person, and Danny nearly unraveled before he could look away. Something like a bell tolled and that massive shape resolved itself into something steadily smaller and simpler, while a voice called out to them - when had Tucker and Sam joined in him in the air? - with a deep baritone voice. “ A̸̢̦̮̥͚h̴͉̟̳͙͈͎̩͡, my sincerest apologies! I hadn’t expecte d any mortals or bridge spirits to be here and so came to investigate this lovely new place in an old er form. Perhaps this is easier on your minds and senses?”

The being settled into the shape of a male presenting person with grey skin, a white shirt, black pants, and a purple trench coat. They were also wearing glasses over eyes that were green at a glance but any lingering eye contact showed every shade of green and violet that could be thought of, and Danny struggled to keep his gaze on the center of the being’s forehead. They smiled with shark-like teeth and held out a hand. Danny, after likely too long, regained enough sense to shake their hand and cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, this is uh, this is a lot easier. Hi. I’m Danny.”

“Hello Danny, I’m recently going by Ghostwriter! And who might you all be?”

“I’m …. Tucker Foley. Tech master extraordinaire.” Tucker shook off his awe quickly enough and gave the Ghostwriter some finger guns and a grin, shaky as it may have been.

Tucker’s joke seemed to snap Sam out of her own stupor and she shook the ghost’s hand warily. “Sam Manson, curious to meet you.”

“It’s always good to be curious! I came here sensing both a new place to learn about, the gateway to this lovely little planar system, and also I sensed a curious mind like my own seeking new fascinating secrets to uncover. Considering only one of you is capable of creating a Sanctuary, I imagine it’s you, Danny?”

Danny nodded and scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, about you coming here, can I ask uh, what was up with that mind-melting form you were just in?”

“I’ve never properly understood Lovecraftian Horror’s until now,” Sam muttered with a shiver. Tucker elbowed her in the side.

Ghostwriter tapped their chin with a hum and looked around at Danny’s spooktacular bachelor pad and clapped his hands with a grin. “I propose a trade! If I tell you about myself, as the answer to your question is best answered with story, then you all tell me about your selves. Deal?”

The trio looked between each other and nodded, Danny holding out his hand to shake. “Deal. Can we take this to the cafe down there though?” Danny pointed exactly to one of the cafes in his Sanctuary and slowly relaxed his panicked grip on the place. If Ghostwriter wanted trouble he clearly didn’t want any with Danny.

They sat down, Danny found some tea, coffee and all the things required to make hot chocolate inside, and offered everyone. Tucker accepted some iced tea, while Sam and Ghostwriter got coffee, and soon Danny sat down with his own hot chocolate and everyone else’s drinks. They appreciated the drinks and took big sips before the Ghostwriter began to speak.

“Oh, but where to start, where to start? If you have time, I can start even at the very beginning of it all?” The trio looked between each other and shrugged; it was the weekend, they had plenty of time. Ghostwriter seemed delighted by that. “The very beginning it is!” Music began to play, soft and mysterious in their minds.

“Before all that you see around you, before the swirling mists and oceans of darkness, before the very concept of Being, nothing was all that was. No past, present or future, no light or darkness, simply a blank nothingness.” On the table, a portion of the air became… empty, in a way that Danny felt in his soul, and he ached to fill the void. “Now, no one, not even myself or my siblings, knows why what happened happened, but for whatever reason or unreason, something began to Exist. Now, the very first something is what some call ectoplasm, others magic, and countless other names, but my siblings and I simply refer to it as the Realms themself being born.” Green light shone in the center of the void and quickly expanded to fill it up, accompanied by glorious and triumphant music.

“Now, while the Realms were the Something to all the Nothing at its edges, it still had just about nothing in it. So, it got to making things within itself from itself, and after a bit of experimenting with half-formed ideas like any creative soul, the very first Realm - the first universe was created. Inside of this universe, there was a great deal and the forces that be happened to be rather proud of themself but had no one to share their creation with. So, they created a soul, and a vessel to house that soul in so that someone could experience what they had made. There was, however, the issue of longevity, which was solved somewhat easily enough, by moving the soul into yet another vessel.”

The shape of a person appeared, surrounded by others, and a light slid out of one as they fell, before being nudged into the next, back and forth. “Now, what with the flexibility of how the Realms interact with time, the soul of their creation was able to hop from mortal vessel to mortal vessel, back and forth across history. Each time the soul left a body it simply went to the edges of the universe before being guided to its next life. And so it went until all the mortals were gone, but the soul was now so complex from experiencing life as every mortal that it could fit in larger vessels from which to appreciate the world. So, they became each planet in turn, and then each star, and each galaxy and cluster, and black hole, until that universe finally went dark, and the being had been everyone and everything in it across its lifespan.”

The light grew brighter and brighter with each leap it took until it burrowed down deep enough to contain that light, and the images Ghostwriter showed them zoomed out to show a solar system. And from there, the light flowed all around it, even jumping to other systems, until the light was too bright to contain in those planets and so it became all the light there was. Abruptly there wasn’t any light at all. An emptiness that the soul grew and grew to fill.

“And so in the cold, dark, quiet of the seemingly dead universe, the being that experienced Existing in a way the Realms could not did what it hadn’t the chance to between all its various lives with their fresh starts and clean slated beginnings: remembered. They experienced all that they had gone through, the scope of their life unfolding to be felt in its entirety in a way that could only be done when unbound by flesh and stone and plasma confines.”

The darkness shrunk as the grey light grew, and then the darkness was a ball within a green expanse. “And then they Were, and the universe ended with a bang, as they who I call mother and you can refer to as Queen Death, was born into the Realms properly.” The ball cracked and trembled before exploding in all directions, the bits of the cosmic eggshell being tossed to the edges of what they could see on the table. A being outlined in grey that held every color there was within, spun around in excitement, and reached out, taking one of the fractured shells of her egg and molding it like clay into another ball, then doing the same with another.

For a long moment, the trio stared at the little queen Death making universes all around her, Tucker sipping his tea as he did so. While Danny was still processing and Sam struggled to find her words, Tucker set his cup down and cleared his throat. “So, there’s a lot to unpack there, and I presume that you’re one of those souls that finished maturing inside of their universe - what are your pronouns by the way?”

“Ah yes, those, I go by he and him for now.”

Tucker nodded and hummed. “So there’s a Queen of the afterlife then? Queen Death?” Ghostwriter’s face fell from that of an eager storyteller to something sour, bitter, and full of grief.

“Not anymore, sadly. Once Mother had adjusted to Being, she realized that she too could create in this wonderful place from which she came. She crafted for herself a lovely palace made half from concepts rather than stone or metal or wood, though it was made from all that and more too.” Death was shown molding the very mist around her into an intricate and beautiful landscape and building, before stopping and sitting cross-legged in her throne, tapping her chin. “But Death knew something was missing from her experience, something she’d had once before: companionship.”

Death was shown leaving her castle to go and gather the broken bits of her eggshell, and took them into her palace, before splitting one shell chunk in two and twisting the two into eggs. Green light gathered in each of her palms and flowed into the shells. “Mother made my eldest siblings, who would go on to name themselves Entropy and Peace. Unlike with her own experience with being guided into each new life, mother decided her first children would have a less lonely experience.” Blue light flowed from one egg and golden to the other and back, with the guiding hand of Death.

“Peace and Entropy would know each other in a way few still living gods do, for they were each other at times. And when they emerged, they gazed upon Death’s palace and kingdom with wonder, and they were a happy family.” Blue and Gold silhouettes hatched from their eggs, both donning violet. The three laughed and hugged and danced, crafting and playing. “And Death, and the Realms, decided to create again, and this time they would act together. And this time,” Ghostwriter said with a chill in his voice and his drink boiling, “the Realms would act on their fascination with balance.”

A violet light appeared as Death molded an egg all her own, and it pulsed and dripped with what felt to be oddly malicious. Entropy and Peace went about exploring their mother’s world while this happened and even took a few discarded shells to craft a universe of their own. Death and her children soon went about covering the table in art and Realms, along with Realms simply spawning from nowhere. The dark purple egg hatched, and the other universes shook.

“What if I told you that the force that brought Existence into Being made mistakes? What if I told you that gods can die?” Ghostwriter gestured to seven eggs orbiting each other, bands of light flitting between them all. “The third child of Death called himself War, and he was the first to disrupt things and give Peace a job to do.” War walked over and flicked the bands of light between two of the eggs, forcing the soul out into the Infinite Realms early, and it grew into a small green being. Peace flew over, and gently nudged the being back toward its egg, but not before drawing from within a blade and cutting through the tiny being. It returned to a ball shape and flowed back in.

“Ghosts of the dead, as you might call them, are souls set adrift from the path between lives, and Peace made it his job to take them back where they go. Sometimes War did this many times at once, and I, curious, asked Peace to allow a few to stay. After all, they were going to end up here again anyway, weren’t they? And so, we tried that, and due to the boundlessness and chaotic nature of the Realms these ghosts found themselves evolving and mutating over time, some of them fulfilling a passion from their previous life and finding their way back home into the next life, while others stayed here and grew and grew and even figured out a way to reproduce - sexually and not. Those ghosts born in the Realms from the dead we call Deathless because they never died.”

“So you’re the reason we have ghosts and stuff?” Sam frowned at the Ghostwriter and the story unfolding before their eyes froze. “Because you wanted to see what’d happen?”

“The name I first took was Curiosity, my dear, and actually I was the first ghost, made rather curious for a reason. It was something new. If I may?”

“Sorry.” The writer waved it off and the story continued.

“Peace forged a sword within himself that he used to set free souls that had gone too long outside of their shells, their minds dissolving under the pressure of an eternity they weren’t mature enough for yet. Many of the elder Deathless he granted such Peace granting tools, and so when a ghost went mad with age they were cut down and their soul returned to their egg. But if that were the last of War’s troublesome and destructive actions, this tale would have a happier ending.”

The violet War wrapped himself in black and red and forged within himself a ring and from that ring beat drums and played bagpipes and ripped chords that called out to something burning hot inside of Danny that had his chocolate evaporating out of his cup. “A god or a ghost can craft from themselves an artifact of power that embodies their very self, their greatest passion. Peace acted as a knight to Queen Death, while Entropy became the watcher over things, and War… War crafted his own place, a fortress beyond our immediate sight, and started taking ghosts there.”

War took the tiny green ghosts far from the others and brandished his ring at them, and from it a sickly purple light seeped out and infected the ghosts, turning them a toxic looking blend of green and purple. Danny shivered, and Sam set down her coffee, looking pale and furious. “Before we knew what he was doing, we thought of War simply as seeking conflict, as his name implied. But war, oh war is not just violence, it is imperialism, it is slaughter, it is conquest it is a͜ h҉un̵g̸er̶ ̸th҉at ca̴nnot be sat̶ed ųnt͜i̷l ͜all͢ i͏s͝ c̸o̡ns͢umęd ̕an͏d̴ ̕li̷k͝e͞l̢y̕ ev͜en͢ ͟not t҉he̛n.” The sickly purple and red light spread further and further, seeping into the ground and choking the air.

“When the dead forge artifacts that outlast them, they make them from the ectoplasm of the Realms and have them resonate with that ghost’s soul, thus allowing any Dead, Deathless, or even a living mortal with the same soul or at least born of the same soul as the ghost who made it to use it. When one of us does it though, well, we’ve got a universe worth of energy to work with, replenished by the Realms, so we reach inside and forge our relic from our own soul, and a bit of ectoplasm. Queen Death made her crown of Fire as a light to keep back the darkness, and to assist her in managing the ebb and flow of souls across the cosmos.”

The palace courtroom came into view and violet War marched forth toward his mother, his purple and red, and black ring pulsing with the beat of wrath. “As her Majesty Queen Death put to work her latest project of making systems out of Realms that would regulate themselves, her third eldest child marched into her throne room with a ring made from the collective heat and metals of stars within him, his malice, his corruptive hunger that would take and steal and conquer, and he stole from her what was her own, the Crown of Fire that lit the darkness of the Infinite Realms, and with a sword stolen from a Peacemaker he earned his most hatefully spat title, the Filthy Mother Killer.“ The kaleidoscopic crown atop Death’s head turned sickly and purple-green. A sword the color of bone pierced Death’s center and the whole Sanctuary shook with a screech.

“Peace ran to mother's palace to ask what had happened, for all the Realms felt it when Death died, and oh, how realization crashed down upon that which could call itself the Realms themself, and oh how it wept and oh how it raged, as the sword that would cut free the souls lost and tangled in obsession too deeply to pass onto their next lives alone and gave the infant Realms peaceful deaths was used to reach into Peace itself and oh how the Realms wailed with fury as the Fright Knight was forced into being under the service of the Usurper, and struck even his sibling Entropy, now Clockwork, giving them their famed scar.” Gold was encased in bone white armor and it’s violet cloak ignited. They struck blue Entropy and soon the gods all over clashed, and the tabletop was swallowed by a rainbow of violence and dripped with emerald blood.

“And so, the Corrupter of Worlds threw the Realms into the most horrific war, beyond mortal comprehension, as the gods grieved and raged and fought with all they had, but could barely scratch their elder brothers. Until finally, finally, Clockwork sealed Fright Knight away in the nightmares his sword now caused. And finally, Entropy itself rallied their brothers and sisters and we sealed away the vile Mother Killer in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.” Ghostwriter banished the images, his eyes burning amethyst and crimson and he took deep breaths, while the teens leaned back, wary and filled with their own impotent rage.

When finally he seemed to calm, the Sanctuary not writhing and rumbling with the force of his rage, he did a little gesture and the mist coalesced once more into a little stage. A foundation of stone formed and over it lay an ocean and from within it grew a tree of bark and steel, surrounded by breezes likely large enough to dwarf Jupiter’s red spot, mold growing at the bottom of the tree while a star roared to life above it. “Though War was locked away, the Realms did not know rest. So they set to work putting together their daughter's last project: a planar system. And ages beyond time passed, until one day, every god and spirit woke to the sound of a scream. And that, my dear Bridge Spirit, is where I believe your story begins.”

Danny sat there, turning over the story that he’d just been told in his head, and tried his best to process it. He wasn’t sure how to do that, though, with the enormity of it all. So, Tucker cut in for him, like always, but with a rap. “Yo, Danny Fenton, he was just 14-“

“Ai dios- stop!” Danny snorted a laugh and shoved Tucker’s face, and the trio descended into a fit of giggles. “Alright, my story isn’t as much as yours is, but, well.” And so, taking turns picking up where the others didn’t know, they told their story to the Ghostwriter. They could process the meaning of life later.

[yikesharringrove]

i’m sorry that you’re having a rough time. if you need to talk my ask is always open! 💜 something I haven’t really seen in the harringrove fandom is a bookstore aus. do you have any head cannons for that? or maybe you could write something? i can see billy being a pretentious, flirty sometimes grumpy bookstore owner who is simultaneously annoyed and charmed by clueless steve who is obvi not a reader, but keeps coming in. Billy’s clueless why the pretty keeps coming in. robin is not clueless!

(ao3)

“Fuck.”

Billy shook out his hand, just dropped a large box of books on his fingers.

“Dumbass.” Robin was perched at the counter, leafing lazily through some indie zine her friends made.

“You know you could, like, help.” Billy shot her a glare as she rolled her eyes, leaving him and his smushed little hand to shelve the new stock.

“No point in that, Boss.” Billy just kept sorting maneuvering himself through the narrow shelves to sort the new arrivals.

His bookshop had been open for about a month, and was doing well. He had a little cafe in the back corner, run by Heather and her baked goods. There was a second level to the shop he filled with squashy armchairs, and little tables. It had become a fairly popular spot with the kids from the local university as they studied, or avoided their studies with the books he had on the first level.

He had new and used books, had a trade-in program with book donations. It was warm in the little shop, sweet and cozy.

The bell above the door chimed.

“Hi, I was looking for Groundwork of the Metaphysic of Morals by Immanuel Kant.”

“You can find Billy, he’s in the stacks over there, and he should be able to help you better than I can.” Billy rolled his eyes, could hear the smile in her voice. He kept shelving, could hear the light footsteps approaching.

“Um, excuse me, I was told you can help?” Billy looked up, his breath hitching when he saw the guy. He was tall and lanky, slouching like he wanted to be small. He had all this messy brown hair, these big dark eyes behind his glasses.

“Kant, right?”

“Yep!”

“This is a good one. Have you read the Critique of Pure Reason? That book was pretty big for me, his thoughts on causation in relationship to time and experience were so new to me first time I read it.”

“Oh, it’s uh, it’s actually for a class. I’m not any good at this philosophy stuff.” Billy just smiled weekly. This guy was almost fucking perfect. He wandered over a few stacks to search.

“You at the university?”

“Yeah, I’m a senior. Just finishing up my generals and everything so I can graduate. I’m studying to be a teacher. Sorry, you probably don’t give a shit.” He had red splotches high on his cheeks.

“No, I always love talkin’ with new folks.” He smiled gently at the guy, reaching up for the book. “Immanuel Kant. Robin up front’ll take care ‘a you.” The guy fidgeted for a second, taking the book slowly.

“Thank you, I’m Steve, by the way.”

“Billy.” Steve waved at him, awkwardly and adorably.

-

Steve began coming in just about every other day.

He would say an awkward hello to Billy, would be all fidgety and weird, and retreat to the comfy second floor with a large iced latte, face red, mumbling to himself.

“He has a crush on you.” Robin was poking him over the counter. Steve had just high-tailed it up to work on his schoolwork after asking Billy how he was and looking so fond when Billy just said not so bad.

“Shut up, Rob.”

“He does. He’s in here almost every day, and gets so fucking nervous when talking to you. He wants to date you and kiss you.” She sang it at him, wiggling around a bit.

“Jesus Christ, Robin, he doesn’t. He’s a paying customer.”

“A paying customer that gets all cute and blushy when you two talk, and who never says more than three words to me.” Billy rolled his eyes, retreating to the back office.

She followed him, stomping loudly.

“At least admit you think he’s cute.”

“He’s fuckin’ adorable, but he said he’s not a big reader, and when I started talkin’ about Kant philosophies, his eyes got all big like that shit went way over his head. I don’t think we’d work out.”

“Just because someone doesn’t read and-slash-or comprehend eighteenth century philosophy, doesn’t make them not worthwhile.”

“It’s kind of a deal breaker for me, Rob.” She glared at him.

“You are so pretentious. He’s cute, and he seems sweet, what does it matter?”

“I just like intellectual types.”

“I fucking hate you.” She huffed, stomping back out into the shop.

-

“What in the hell?” Billy was up on the second floor, cleaning up the discarded coffee mugs and books left behind before closing. He heard muttering from the corner, looking to see Steve, tucked in a large armchair, frowning heavily at the book propped in his lap, something thick and heavy, probably for that philosophy class he’s been trudging through.

“You okay, Pretty Boy.” Steve slammed the book shut.

“Yeah I’m fine.” He began shoving his school work away, stuffing it roughly into his bag.

“Hey, whoa.” Billy plopped down across from him, taking one of Steve’s wrists in his own. “What’s wrong?” Steve whipped off his glasses, digging his thumbs into his eyes.

“It’s just been a long day, and my dyslexia gets so much worse when I’m tired, but this midterm is tomorrow and I need to study.”

“I didn’t know you were dyslexic.”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot my button that says I’m dyslexic, ask me how!” Billy sat back, one eyebrow raised. “I’m sorry, I’m just tired. And my brain hurts.”

“You know we have audiobooks. There’s a whole selection in the back downstairs.” Steve looked up at him.

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah. We have tapes and CDs. Have a bunch of random stuff. You wanna take a look through it all?” Steve’s eyes were wide. He shoved his glasses back on, following Billy to the display.

They were sitting on the ground, going through the selection Billy had, Steve had found two of the books he needed for his philosophy class.

“Billy I’m heading out-” Robin stopped when she saw the two of them, sitting in a sea of tapes and CDs. “You do know we closed, like half an hour ago.”

“Holy shit. Seriously? Why didn’t you tell me to go! I would’ve gotten outta your hair.”

“Relax, Pretty Boy. I don’t mind stickin’ around. Don’t got much else goin’ on.” Robin was watching them with a smug look on her face, sitting in one hip.

“No I have to, I should go. I’ll, um, I’ll come back for these tomorrow.” He pressed the few he had selected into Billy’s hand, gripping his upper arm. “Thank you, Billy. It really means a lot to me.” He gave him a sweet smile, threw Robin a two-finger salute as he hefted his backpack, leaving the shop with a jingle.

Robin slapped Billy’s arm.

“He’s so hot for you, and you’re practically in love with him too, this is disgusting and gay.”

“Robin no homophobia in my store, please.” She laughed at him as they locked up, Billy cleaning up the mess of audiobooks.

-

“Hi, I brought you this.” Steve was wearing a soft sweater under a pair of overalls. He looked so soft and Billy wanted to cuddle him.

He was currently pushing a plastic container full of chocolate chip cookies over the counter.

“I wanted to say thank you for helping me last night, and I know there’s straight up a cafe that sells these in the back, and you could probably eat as many as you like because you own the whole place, but I thought it’d be nice and I bake when I’m stressed and ramble when I’m nervous, if you couldn’t already tell, but you’re really nice and I just wanted to do something nice for you, and I’m gonna shut the fuck up if you don’t mind.” He was bright red, his eyes darting around the shop, looking everywhere but at Billy.

“Thank you, Sweet Thing.” He took a cookie, taking a big bite out of it. “And I got your audiobooks on hold.” Steve giggled when Billy talked with his mouth full of cookie, rifling through his wallet to get cash for the CDs. “Your midterm was today, right?”

“Oh, yeah. I, you remembered.”

“You told me last night.” Steve shrugged.

“Sometimes people kinda tune me out.” Billy frowned, opened his mouth to say something in rebuttle but Steve plowed on. “I had the test today. I think it was okay, but it always goes either way with me. Sometimes I feel super good about it afterwards, but then I’ll straight up fail and sometimes it goes the other way, so I’m hoping ambivalence is key.”

“I think that sounds like a valid plan. Just keep your mind off it.”

“You read anything good lately.” Billy just gave him a look.

“Take in where we are, then get back to me.”

“I mean, you probably read a lot, but have you read anything good lately?”

“Define good.” Steve shrugged. One of the straps on his overalls fell off his shoulder. It was so cute.

“Like, engaging content.”

“That’s a pretty low bar.”

“Well, I know you probably read like, super smart stuff that goes way over my head. If we were talking about novels I would say, engaging plot, interesting rounded characters, all that shit, but you probably read, like, I don’t even fucking know.”

“I’m gonna let you in on my best kept secret.” He leaned into the counter a little. Steve’s eyes were bright as he leaned over the counter, shoving his nose right into Billy’s space. “I’m a sucker for classics.” Steve had this cute little half smile on his face.

“Like, Moby Dick?”

“Jesus, no. Nobody actually likes that book. I mean like, Pride & Prejudice and Emma and Wuthering Heights and Don Quixote.”

“I think I’ve heard of like, two of those.” He gasped a little, his eyebrows going up. “I have an idea! Would you recommend me audio books? Of all your favorites? I want to be able to like, talk about them with you.” His eyes were shining and bright, so excited to share these books with Billy, these books that mean the world to Billy.

“Sure thing, Pretty Boy. I’ll pick a new one out for you every week or so.” Steve hoped from foot to foot, wiggling and excited.

“I wanna do that! WE can have our own little bookclub. It’ll be so fun, we can like talk about your favorite books, and I’ll actually get it because I won’t have to be, like, translating the fucking wiggly words.” He was crackling with energy over this idea, it was making Billy excited.

And then Steve’s phone started going off in the chest pocket of the overalls. When he took it out Billy caught a glimpse of the name Nance.

“Sorry, this is my ex-girlfriend.” He smiled at Billy who’s heart dropped. “But I’ll be back tomorrow, if you wanna have a book ready for me!” He pushed the cookies closer to Billy with a Look, answering the phone as he awkwardly pushed open the door with his back, and a little hey, Nance!

“How was your boyfriend today?”

“Straight. He’s fucking straight.” Robin furrowed her brows.

“Sorry, there’s no way that boy is completely  straight.”

“He got a call from his ex-girlfriend. He’s fucking straight, and we’re gonna start a stupid bookclub thing because he wants to read my favorite books and he’s fucking straight.” Billy shoved the cookies away from him, taking up on of the heavy boxes of book donations, heaving it to be shelved.

Robin followed him to the stacks.

“Just because he had an ex-girlfriend doesn’t mean he’s straight, Billy. He could be bi, or pan, or fluid, or literally anything.” Billy just ignored he, kept shoving the new arrivals away. She sighed at his back. “Okay, asshole. Give him some queer book, like Orlando and see what he says about it.” Robin tromped away when Billy refused to answer.

-

Steve tripped on the door frame the next day.

He spilled out hard on the floor, smacking his chin and spilling paper. It was so fucking funny, but Billy stifled his laugh, and helped Steve up. His face was red, the flush spreading down his neck.

He took one look at Billy when he stood up, and walked right back out the door.

-

He gathered up the courage to come back in three days later.

“Watch yourself there, Pretty Boy.” Steve’s face went hot again.

“I’m so sorry about that. I was so fucking embarrassed, I had to go have a panic attack for like, six hours after that.” He gave a shaky little laugh. “I believe I was promised an audiobook?” Billy took it out from under the counter.

“Maurice, by E.M. Forster. It’s a gay classic about coming of age, and having to live in the closet, and being in love. It’s excellent.”

“Sounds like my fuckin’ life.” Billy stared as Steve just read the snippet on the back of the box.

“You gay?”

“Pan.” Steve said it easily, didn’t even look up from reading the box. Billy can hear Robin gloating in his head, saying that she’s right.

“Cool.” Steve gave him a weird look.

“You’re being weird.” Billy shrugged. Steve glanced at the large pride flag hanging in the window of the store, looking back at Billy with one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, I’m a big ol’ homo. I’m really not being weird. I just didn’t know.” Steve reached out to push his shoulder.

“I’m kidding, Bill! Quit bein’ so grumpy.” Billy couldn’t help but smile when Steve was looking at him like that, was giggling at him like that.

-

When Steve finished the audiobook, they talked about it over hot tea after closing.

That became their ritual, Steve would get a book recommendation, would finish it in about four days, he’d stay after closing an they’d talk. The next day, he’d get a new one.

They began talking about more than just the books.

Steve was an incredibly easy person to talk to. Something about his big eyes made Billy want to open, to share his past.

He told Steve about his dad, just the tip of the iceberg, just the basic he’s a homophobic asshole. But then Steve told him he’d been kicked out of his house at eighteen, so Billy told him his father was physically abusive, and before he fucking knew it, they were both tearing up and connecting.

“Who’re you texting?” Robin snatched his phone, dancing out of his reach as she scrolled through the texts between him and Steve. “Oh my God, are you sure you two aren’t dating.” He ripped his phone out of her hands.

“Shut up, Robin.” He stormed to the back office, his refuge whenever Robin started bugging him.

“No. You two have been doing this dance for months. You two have your own special bookclub. You need to ask him out.”

“I just don’t wanna assume anything and fuck up this friendship. I don’t have very many friends, and i don’t wanna lose him. Just because he’s into guys doesn’t mean he’s into me.”

“Billy you’re hot. And me, a whole lesbian, telling you that means it’s true. I’ve seen the way he is around you. Remember when he fucking fell and had to leave immediately? He’s so hot for you and nervous rambles all the time. If you asked him out he would say yes.”

But Billy never actually got a chance to ask him out.

The same night Robin was bugging him Steve came slamming roughly into the shop.

“You okay?” Steve was quiet, something Billy had never seen in him.

“Just a bad day.” He sipped at the tea Billy had placed in front of him.

“You wanna talk about it?” Billy said at the exact same moment Steve looked right at Billy as said.

“You wanna go on a date with me?”

“Sorry, what did-” Billy ears were ringing.

“No, I didn’t say anything.” Steve was looking everywhere but Billy.

“No you asked me out.” He took a breath.

“Look, I really like you. Like a whole lot. And today was shit and the whole time I just kept thinking about how I wanted to see you, and talk to you about it, and I knew just walking in here and looking at you would make the whole awful day that much fucking better and I just wanna go on a date. With you.”

Billy’s mouth was open.

“Holy shit.” Steve was steadily going even more red.

“I’m sorry if I just fucked up this whole thing we had goin’ on-”

“No, I wanna go out with you. I really like you too.” Steve was still, and then he started wiggling, that excited little side to side he does.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Steve stood up, shaking and wiggling in the cutest little happy dance Billy has ever fucking seen.

“Oh my God. I’ve wanted to ask you out for like, months. I’m so excited.” He flopped back into his seat. “Okay but first, Animal Farm. I think the pig’s an asshole.”

Billy leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Steve’s cheek.

[lu-undy]

Chapter 9 - SBT

Here it is! And thanks for those who leave comments and appreciate my scribbles :D !

Lucien’s next destination was the tailor. He needed to fill his wardrobe, but not only that, he also needed to get his first contact with the man. He was on the list of the people he should visit to fully understand where he was. 

The Frenchman went back to the hotel to get his car. The tailor was quite further away. As soon as he arrived, he went straight to the reception.

“Mister L, how can I help Sir?”

“I will need my car ready in a few minutes. Would that be possible?” He left one key on the counter.

“Of course, Sir. Anything else?”

“Non, that will be all. I will be waiting in the lounge.”

“Understood.”

Lucien waited on a sofa, a glass of water in his hand. He tried to remember the content of the file as regards the tailor. He used to be based in France but had asked to move away and his heart had set to Australia. 

“Hm.”

Australia was as far as one could get from France. There weren’t a lot of places further away from home. He looked outside the hotel’s front window and could see a bright blue sky and the sun shining beautifully. It almost seemed as though he was on a different planet. One where he was clean shaven again, dressed in a suit, and off to be what defined him the most, a spy. He smiled to himself in that bittersweet feeling. He felt decades younger for a fleeting moment.

“Uh, sir?”

Lucien recognised the shy voice.

“Oui, Bastien, right?” He asked and the young man nodded timidly, his head lowered down.

“Your car’s ready, Sir.”

“You can call me L.”

“Thanks, Sir.”

“Thank you.” Lucien answered and stood up, heading for the door.

“Uh, Mister L, Sir?”

Lucien turned.

“Oui?”

Bastian was staring at his feet and the Frenchman took it for shyness.

“Uhm, thank you, Sir.”

Now Lucien understood. Bastian was staring at his new shoes.

“My pleasure. See you later.”

They courteously bowed to each other before the Frenchman exited the hotel and hopped on his car. 

“Bien, allons-y.”

[Right, let’s go.]

He placed the map on the passenger’s seat next to him and put on a pair of sunglasses. Lucien drove while glancing at it from time to time. Soon enough, he found himself in the right street and was lucky enough to find a slot to park the Panthera. He exited his car and entered the tailor's. 

"Bonjour, good Sir. How may I help?"

A man impeccably dressed himself came to welcome the Frenchman. He was about Lucien's height but quite older as his equally neat white moustache showed. Judging by his spot on pronunciation of "Bonjour", Lucien confirmed that he was indeed French too. 

"Bonjour, Monsieur. I would need a word with you. My request is rather unusual." Lucien answered. 

"But of course, Sir." The tailor moved behind his counter and invited Lucien to follow.

"Your name?" He asked as he looked down at a notebook behind his counter.

"L." 

The tailor looked around. A few apprentices worked with him. He sent them to the workshop behind the shop and went to the door. 

"Pray take a seat." 

Lucien went to one of the leather armchairs and sat down. He watched as the tailor flipped the sign on his front door from "open" to "closed" and locked the door. Eventually, he released the curtains and to whoever passed by in the streets, it seemed as though the shop was closed. 

"Bien, we may talk now and please feel as free as you would in Paris." The tailor finally broke the silence and sat on the armchair opposite his client. "My name is Richard. I am honoured to meet you, L." 

Hands were shaken. 

"So am I. You knew I was coming?" 

"I have received communication from Paris, oui." 

"News travel fast." Lucien answered. 

"They do indeed. But tell me, how may I help you?" 

"I have come to get to know you and your trade. But before you explain it to me, do you mind if I smoke?"

"Non, please by all means."

Lucien nodded and offered a cigarette to his colleague who politely refused. 

"I have stopped smoking ages ago. My wife you see, she made me see reason." 

Lucien smiled. 

"I am sorry for you then, Richard." 

The older man smiled softly. 

"Don't be. She's the best thing that happened to me in my life. But I can tell by your smirk that you haven't met yours yet."

"The description that you make of your wife is touching. But indeed I haven't met a woman who fits this description yet." 

"And yet your reputation tells me that you have met quite a few, non?"

Lucien chuckled. 

"Quite a few, oui. But let us come back to the point." 

"Oh, of course. My trade? Well, I sell high quality, custom designed and custom made suits. Uhm, do you mind standing up for an instant…?"

Lucien put the cigarette between his lips and obliged. The expert tailor had a close look at the Frenchman's suit. His fingers carefully ran on the sewing lines, the shoulders, the buttons and the pockets. 

"Ah, you had Jean-Marc do this suit, non?"

Lucien opened wide eyes. 

"I did indeed, how could you tell without looking at the-"

"I know a thing or two about suits. This is very classic, almost strict design. The sewing lines are tense. This is Jean-Marc, there is no mistaking it. Also, this is very uhm, French. I guess you have arrived recently…?"

"Indeed, I have." 

"Tell you what. I'll tell you more about the house while I get busy, alright?" Richard suggested and before Lucien could argue, the tailor clapped his hands and his apprentices came in the room. They guided the spy on the side. There was a stage there, a few steps to climb on it and three large mirrors surrounding it. 

"Now, les enfants, allons-y!"

[Kids, let's go!]

Lucien watched as they removed his jacket and started taking measurements. 

"Feel free to speak in front of them as you would in front of me. They are my sons." 

"Ah, I see. Nice to meet you, young men." 

Both nodded but remained silent. 

"While we make this new suit for you, allow me to discuss our business further. The front shop is a tailor and that is my first job. However, clothes are not the only things I sell. You will find a variety of… Well… equipment in my shop."

"What kind?" Lucien asked as Richard's sons walked around him and took more measurements.

"Weapons and accessories you might find useful. Of course, my suits can offer possibilities of storage for such equipment." 

"I see. So, should I need to prepare for some more frontal encounters, I should visit you first?" Lucien asked. 

"Exactly." Richard answered. "But that is not all."

Lucien's eyebrows rose as Richard's sons put the spy's jacket back on his shoulders and showed the measurements they had taken to their father. The tailor inspected the notes scribbled by his son closer. 

"Hm… I understand your reputation." He said. "Your proportions are worthy of a model!" 

Lucien smirked proudly and adjusted his tie. 

"I have never had any complaints." 

Richard chuckled. 

"But pray tell me what else you can do." The spy asked. 

"Before I answer, for the suit, do you have any preferences?" 

"Something classic, something that doesn't stand off too much. Maybe grey, or brown."

"Ah, that might work in Paris, L, but here you have to wear a bit more colour."

"Hm…" Lucien winced. 

"Don't worry, I am not suggesting you should dress up like a clown. Why not try this…" 

Richard stepped off the stage and Lucien followed him. He took a Burgundy cloth off one of the shelves. 

"A mix of cotton and linen. Sober and classic, yet the red brings that little touch of colour to be more discreet." 

"More colour to be more invisible?" Lucien asked. 

"Australia is a parrot zoo. If you want to blend in, you need to be as colourful." 

Lucien sighed. 

"You are the expert. I will follow your advice." 

"I deeply appreciate it. Now, boys, get busy with this! And you, L, pray follow me." 

The tailor went on one side of the room, he pushed the clothes rails aside and put his hand on the wall, at the shelf's height. There was a fleur-de-lis flower made out of what looked like silver. He pulled it like a lever and Lucien heard a metallic click. 

"Boys! If you please…?" 

Richard's boys came back and opened the wall as if it was two doors. The gentlemen now stood in front of a corridor. 

"This will lead us to my more uhm, private, shop." 

Lucien nodded and followed Richard in while his sons closed the doors after them. If the decor of the shop was very traditional with wood and yellow lights, this secret part was much more modern. The walls were made out of white marble and the lights shone bright. Lucien could almost see his reflection on the white tiled floor. 

"Here we are." 

Richard opened a door and unveiled a room full of weapons. Revolvers, assault rifles, shotguns, sniper rifles. You name it, Richard has it. 

Lucien entered and had a look around. 

"These are all very modern I see."

"We try to keep our library up to date, indeed. Should you need other models, we can have them delivered within a day, sometimes less." 

"Any blades you might have?" Lucien asked. 

"In here…" 

Richard and Lucien went to a display case. 

"Ah…" 

"You are quite the traditional man, L."

"For my equipment, most definitely."

"And your suits too." Richard added. 

Lucien's eyes didn't leave the blades. He inspected them one by one, paying the closest attention to any detail. 

"I guess you are making those yourself. They are most definitely very beautiful. The work on the handles is quite unique."

"Indeed. I can also repair one or add a few features to it if you insist on keeping yours. Same for the guns. Most upgrades happen here but we sometimes send the guns to other places as we are not yet equipped with all the machinery necessary for them."

"I understand. May I have a look at the revolvers and pistols?" 

"But of course. If you would be so kind as to look behind you…?" 

Lucien obeyed and bent over another display case. 

"Any non-lethal ones?" 

"Those on display are lethal but I do have their non-lethal counterparts in store. Also, and given who you are, I will personally make sure that whatever piece of gear you get from us will be custom made and adjusted to your hands."

Lucien's eyebrows jumped. 

"That is most kind of you, Richard."

"It isn't everyday that one gets the privilege to work with you, L." 

"Bah, I am merely doing what must be done." 

"Quite so, quite so… I can leave you to have a closer look at the library in peace if you prefer?" 

"Non I think I have seen enough. Although, Richard, may I ask you something?"

"Anything, L, of course." 

"Let us go back to the shop first." 

"As you wish." 

In a minute or so, both men found themselves back on the armchairs, surrounded by the shelves of fabric. 

"Do you know this restaurant called The Queen Victoria?"

Richard nodded. 

"Yes, of course. The most sought after of all places here."

"I will need to go there shortly. May I order a few suits from you, for the occasion?" Lucien asked. 

"Please do. We have your measurements already so it shouldn't prove too hard although the red suit will be my priority." 

"Oh?"

"Once I finish it, I will have your taste and measurements in my fingers and it will be much easier for me to get to more stylish pieces." 

"Ah, I see."

"But tell me, I guess it will be for dinner?" Richard asked, pulling a notepad and a pen off his inner pocket.

"It is for business actually, but yes, it will be the evening. Also, I need to impress. I have the main things sorted out but if the suit could help, I will appreciate it greatly." Lucien added.

"I see…" Richard continued taking notes. "I have it all in mind. Anything else you want me to do for you?" 

"Oui, actually. Do you have any information on the target?" 

"A few, but I doubt it will be anything of value to you L."

"Pray tell."

"Fine. The gentleman you seek is rare to the sight of the general public. I am told that he likes his golf and his fine gastronomy. He has ladies like the pearls on a necklace and some of them we never hear from ever again…" 

"I see." Lucien frowned. "Any idea on his recent activity?"

"Non unfortunately…"

"Dad, Mister Black and his friends should be arriving any minute now to pick up their suits." 

"Oh, yes indeed, time flies! L, I will have to re-open the shop, anything else you needed?" 

Lucien shook his head. 

"I have heard and seen enough to get me started. Merci beaucoup, Richard." 

[Thank you very much, Richard.]

The tailor nodded and signalled his sons who pulled the curtains and opened the shop again. Lucien stood up and shook hands with his new acquaintance. 

"All the pleasure is mine, L." 

Richard accompanied his client back to the door. 

"How long should I wait for the suit?" 

"A few days. We shall let you know." 

"Good. Well, I wish you a good day, Richard." 

"And to you too, L. See you soon!"

The Frenchman nodded and exited the shop. He slipped in his car and drove back to Victoria's restaurant. He parked in front of it and went to sit at his usual table. Lucien didn't have to wait too long for the young lady to appear.

"L! You came back for lunch?"

"Indeed I have."

"So… Uhm… ¿Qué te gustaría?" She asked with her notepad in her hands.

[What would you like?]

"Ah, I see someone has done their homework…" Lucien smiled.

"Was that correct?" 

"Oui, not a mistake!"

"Haha!" Victoria laughed, triumphant. 

"And to answer you, lo que me gustaría es lo que te gustaría."

[What I would like is what you would like.]

"Ah, uh, ok, so, uhm… If I were you, I'd have uh… Hm…" 

She pouted and scratched her head with the back of her pen. 

"I know! Go for the roasted chicken and potatoes. It's a nice day, it'll go with it nicely. You can add mayonnaise too!"

Lucien laughed. 

"Fine, I will follow your recommendation but please, unless the mayonnaise is homemade, I would rather not have it."

"You're so posh…"

"I have standards, V, nothing more." 

"Yeah, yeah… And to drink? Let me guess, posh sparkling water?"

"Is there a posh edition?" Lucien taunted her. 

"Oh, you know what I mean!" 

"Indeed I do. Sorry, I was pulling your leg as you say in your language. But oui, tienes razón, I will have the sparkling water please." 

[You're right.]

"I know I'm right, I always am!" She arrogantly answered and Lucien rolled his eyes with a smile. "But L?"

"Hm?"

"D'you mind if I sit with you to have my lunch break?" 

"Non, of course, by all means." 

"Right, give me a few minutes then."

Lucien looked through the window and thanked the Lord that the sun had turned and was not hitting him directly. The Australian sun was much more aggressive than back in France. Victoria soon came back with a full tray. 

"Here we go, old man! Posh sparklin' water and chicken and potatoes!"

"And what will the young demoiselle have?"

[Lady]

"My usual, good old homemade sandwich!"

Victoria sat in front of the Frenchman.

"You call that a sandwich?"

"Oh alright, I'll go have my lunch in peace elsewhere…!" The young woman said as she dug in. 

"As if…" Lucien confidently answered. "Mh, the chicken is very good by the way." 

"Oi, why d'you say 'as if'?"

"Clearly you had your hopes up."

Victoria blushed. 

"You have waited for me to have your lunch."

She averted her gaze. 

"Don't be ashamed when it is the truth." 

"Hm…" 

She buried herself in her sandwich and the Frenchman chuckled softly. 

"I apologise, V. I didn't want to put you on the spot."

"It's alright…" 

Both ate their food and Lucien didn't dare say more. 

"L?"

"Oui?"

He raised his eyes to her. 

"D'you have any family?" 

Unfazed, he answered:

"A companion, only." 

"Oh, what's her name?"

His ice-blue eyes met her hazelnut ones. 

"Solitude." 

He smiled. 

"Oh… I'm sorry…" 

Lucien shrugged. 

"You really have no one? No parents, no kids, no…?"

His gaze impressed her. She didn't know if he was saying 'Do I look like I'm joking?' or 'I'm as sorry as you are'. It might have been none, or even both. 

"I-I'm sorry." 

Lucien wiped the corners of his mouth elegantly. 

"No reason to be. I prefer it that way." 

"Really? I-I mean, are you ok to talk about it?" 

"Of course, go ahead." 

Victoria frowned. 

"Don't you feel like… alone? Like, you're missin' someone even though you don't know who? You're just missing like a… presence?" 

The Frenchman let a half smile slip through his lips. 

"At the beginning, oui. Not anymore now." 

"What's changed?"

"What do you mean?" He asked. 

"How did you go from 'oh I'm lonely' to 'Bah, whatever'?"

"I accepted it." 

"Bullshit!" She answered and Lucien's eyebrows jumped. 

"Pardon?" 

"I don't have anyone either and it's impossible to not feel lonely! It's just not possible!"

"Non, Victoria. It is possible, you are just still too young, you have experiences to go through still before you hit that point."

"What point?"

"The point of no return. The point where the only emotions that your body are able to produce are contempt, pride and disdain; but not sadness, not heartbreak, not anymore."

Victoria had listened through and her eyebrows frowned further.

"Crikey… that sounds…" 

"Liberating." He said.

"Awful." She answered.

Silence fell for an instant. 

"Anyway." Lucien said and stood up. "I shall see you later. Don't wait for me for dinner."

He left what he owed on the table with a tip and left without adding a word. Victoria didn’t know what to make of her friend. Had she struck a nerve? No, he had seemed unfazed, he couldn’t have been moved by her words, or could he? 

On his drive back to his place, Lucien was brooding, the slight breeze of the air conditioner in his car barely enough to keep his mind cool. His brow was furrowed behind his sunglasses and his mind was set. He needed her to wrap her arms around him, he needed La Solitude to comfort him.

[lovewriting-5]

Roads:

*gif is not mine*

2. Into The Woods

4. US-101

3. Bear Station:

The next day, we reached State Route 7, Washington. I say “Look, it’s easier now. We’re going downhill. You just gotta keep walking.” Daniel says “Yeah...You said things were getting better yesterday...and the day before...” Sean says “I’m sorry, dude. We’re trying our best. Let’s walk a little more. There’ll be a rest stop or something where we can buy food. I’m sure of it.” He says “Hey! Maybe we’ll find a milkshake shop!” Sean says “Ah yes...The forest secret milkshake factory...Keep dreaming, dude.” Daniel says “Moron...” I ask him “Are you okay?” He says “Yeah...No.”

Daniel says “I was just thinking about when Harry Thompson wanted to beat me up. Me and Noah traded some games with Harry...But he didn’t like his. So he said he was gonna get us after school...” Sean asks “What did you do?” Daniel tells him “We waited in the gym until he went home...” Surprised, he says “That’s it? You shoulda told me!” Daniel says “I tried...But you said to get out of your room...” Sean says “You should’ve insisted! I never know when you’re kidding or not.” Daniel says “You did stand up for me...with Brett. For a change.” He says “Yeah...Well. He had it coming.”

Daniel says “I can’t wait to tell our secret adventure to Noah!” I noticed Sean is very distracted. I gently nudge his arm, “You okay? You seem a little distracted.” He says “This big brother stuff is more complicated when we’re out here on our own...” Daniel continues “I hope dad never sends us on a vacation without him again.”

In the distance, we can just make out the sign for a gas station. Daniel says “Hey! There’s something ahead!” I say “Yup! Must be the gas station we saw on that sign.” He says while rubbing his stomach “Awesome! I’m sooo hungry for real food right now.” Sean says “I hear you...We’re gonna get food...water...Plus a map. So we can find the best route.” Daniel says “All right...” He says “Hey, come on! I know last night was tough, but...tonight will be better. I swear.” Daniel says “Yeah...I hope.”

Daniel says “Hey, Sean and (Y/N)! Knock knock.” I ask “Who’s there?” He says “Europe.” Sean asks “Europe who?” Daniel says “No. You’re a poo.” I chuckle. Sean says “What the hell, man. Is that even a joke?” He repeats “You’re a poo! You’re a poo!”

We walk around the gas station to check it out. Daniel notices a shelf stacked with wooden bear statues, “I wonder...if the big one is their dad!” I say “Kinda creepy, huh?” He says “Naah. I think they’re cute. We should have one at home. Dad would love it!” Sean says “No way we’re carrying a freaking log around, dude.” He agrees “Oh, okay! Right.”

There is a public restroom on the side of the gas station. I go in first. I use the restroom, wash my hands and face, then refill my water bottle. Once I was done, I held the door open for Sean and Daniel. Sean says to him “Come on in. Let’s wash a little.” Daniel says “I’m coming!” There was a family sitting at the picnic table. I sit at the bench at the right and wait for them.

We then head into the gas station. The lady working behind the counter, says “Hello there.” Sean and I say “Hey.” Daniel noticed the Chock-O-Crisp display at the front of the store, “Woah, they have Chock-O-Crisp! You guys promised I could get one.” There is one other customer in the gas station, we overheard him say “Oh man, that is so cool...”

As we’re walking around and trying to figure out what we have enough money for, Daniel walks over to a corner near the front entrance. He shouts “Oh my God, this is the coolest thing ever! Hey! C’mere...Check it out! Look!” Sean and I walk over to where he was. Sean says “Dude! Calm down. What is it?” It turns out he found a claw machine. Very excited, he says “Power Bear Claw! Uh...Can we play? I bet it’s easy to get a prize!” I point to all the prizes still in the machine and let him know, “See all those prizes still inside? Nobody wins. Except the machine...” Disappointed, he says “Oh...” Sean says “But hey. We’re the wolf brothers. Let’s teach this machine a lesson...right?” Daniel excited, asks “Yes! Soooo...Who goes first?” They offered me the dollar to go first but I say “That’s okay. You guys go ahead, I’ll just watch.”

Sean let him go first “Go get ‘em, little brother...” I say “You got this, dude.” Daniel getting in the zone “Oooo, I am gonna beat this boss! Let’s go, Power Bear Claw!” Sean coaching him “Wait till you get a good opening...” Daniel hovers the claw over an easy looking target, then pushes the red button to release it. It looks like it almost had one of those plastic balls until it slipped from the claw’s grip. Daniel disappointed, says “Not fair! It sucks.” I tell him “You were so close!” Sean giving advice “Don’t grab so fast...” He asks “This is hard...Can you try?” Sean takes his place at the joystick, “Yeah, okay. Let’s see what I can do...” Daniel really wanting a prize “Yay!”

Sean says “Let me get in the zone...Here we go...” I say “You got this!” He moves the claw, finds a good spot, hovers and then lowers the claw. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to get one either. Daniel asks “Can I play again, please?” Sean says “Sorry, buddy. We can’t waste money on that kind of stuff right now.” He asks “What? That’s it?” He says “Yeah, I told you...Come on. Let’s not waste time on that stupid thing.” Disappointed, he says “Not fair! I just wanted one little Power Bear...” A little irritated, Sean says “I know, Daniel! But look! We’re already surrounded by bears!” After Daniel mopes off, I gave him an assuring nod and smile.

We leave the machine and continue to figure out what to buy. Daniel begins talking to the other customer. He says “Hi...What are you looking at?” The guy says “Oh, hey there. Well, I’m actually doing research. It’s, uhhh...Not for you.” He asks “Why? Like dirty stuff? Uck.” The guy says “It’s uhhh...It’s adult stuff.” That’s when Sean and I walk over to where the conversation is happening. Sean grabs Daniel by the shoulders and says “Hey, hi, uh...Sorry about my brother...��� The guy says not bothered by Daniel “Don’t be. He’s awesome!”

Both Sean and I glance at the computer screen, the guy noticed “I know what you’re thinking. What the hell is this creep looking at?” Sean stumbling on his words “Uh, no, I don’t mean...I mean...” The guy says “It’s not as weird as it seems, though. These people, they only wanna live a normal life. Just...naked. I mean, if they’re not harming anyone, who’s to say they’re wrong?” I say “Nobody.” The guy says “Yeah, I agree. Yes! Why should we all be the same? Who says so?”

The guy says “Heh, never mind. I’m getting carried away. Name’s Brody. I’m kind of an online traveling journalist...” I introduce myself “I’m (Y/N).” Sean asks “Sean. What’s an...online traveling journalist?” Brody explains “Just a fancy name for someone who drives around in a car...writing about people and...stuff. There’s a few websites that pay me for these papers, since I know how to write. Nice to meet you both. You all traveling together?” Sean says “Yeah...We’re on the road. Going south.” Brody says “Good for you. The best way to learn is on the road...The earlier the better. Well, I’d love to talk and avoid work all day but...I’m already up against a deadline. Safe travels!” I tell him “Thanks, see ya around.”

I walk with Daniel up to the counter where the lady is working. Daniel says “Hi.” The lady says “Well hi yourself! And Happy Halloween! Is that your costume?” I say “Happy Halloween!” He says “Yeah...but I lost my mask.” The lady says “That’s a pity...What’s your names?” I tell her “I’m (Y/N).” He says “I’m Daniel!” The lady says “Nice to meet you, (Y/N) and Daniel. I’m Doris.”

Doris asks “So what exactly are you doing all the way out here?” Daniel excitedly tells her “It’s a secret adventure!” She asks a little suspicious sounding, “Is that so? Sounds intriguing...” Daniel noticing the wood statue bears behind the counter “Did you make all these bears?” Doris explains “Oh no! I won’t take credit for the bears, that’s all my husband...He won’t stop making them. No matter how much I beg...” He tells her “Aw, I think they’re sooo cute!” She says “Well, good for you! Sure glad somebody does...”

Sean comes up and stands next to me, he tells Daniel “Hey, don’t bother her. Sorry about that...” Daniel explains “But...I’m talking to her!” Doris very understanding, says “Oh, we’re just gabbin’...” He says “Yeah...He talks a lot...” Daniel slightly annoyed, says “Whatever. I do not talk too much. You always say that...But that’s not true...” He walks off and begins checking other stuff out around the gas station.

Doris asks us “Well what brings you all the way out here?” I tell her “We’re camping at the Tacoma Rock Campground.” She asks “Where are your parents?” Sean says “Oh uh...This is for me, (Y/N) and my brother...No parents allowed...” She asks “By yourselves? All the way out here?” I get what he is doing, I add “We know...We come out here all the time...Just not right here.” Doris says “Well. Didn’t mean to grill you. Just making sure you’re okay out here. Have a nice day.”

I noticed the map sitting on the counter next to a bunch of keychains. I pick one up and look at it. Doris says “Go on! It’s actually free.” I say “Cool...Thanks!” She says “It’s a real nice map. You’ll find lots of great hiking trails around here...” I put it in my backpack.

We continue shopping. We picked 3 hot dogs, a bag of chips, 2 Chock-O-Crisps and 2 water bottles. Sean says “I think that’s it.” He and I split the cost. Doris says “Okey dokey. Thanks much...All right, here’s your change.” We tell her “Cool. Thanks.”

Daniel walks back up to the counter and notices a yellow basket with blankets in it. He says “Oh, a puppy!” Sean says “Yeah. It’s a dog.” I say “Super cute doggy.” He asks “You ready?” Daniel asks “Is this yours?” Doris says “Somebody left her down the road. If I saw who did that, it’d be the last time...” He says “Awww...He must be sad! What’s his name?” Doris tells him “Her. Whoever takes her...gets to name her.” Daniel asks “Oh, right...Oh! Can...we have the puppy? Please?”

I look at Sean, we both have an ‘I don’t know’ look on our faces. Sean says “Let us think...I don’t know...It’s a pretty huge responsibility.” Daniel says “Yeah! It would be so cool! Come on...” Doris says “Oh, honey...We have to have an adult take care of her...Not kids.” He says “I know...I just thought we could...” I tell him “We’d love to...but she’s right. We can’t take care of a dog right now.” I pat him on the shoulder as I begin walking towards the door. Daniel looked at the puppy for a couple extra minutes. Sean pats him on the head as they begin to walk towards the door.

The family that was sitting at the picnic table when we arrived has left. Daniel points it out, “Hey look...empty table!” I say “Let’s grab it! And check out this map.” Proud that he grabbed the table “It’s our table now!” We sit down and begin unpacking the food we bought. Sean says “Yep! Let’s see...What have we got here...” Daniel’s eyes widened when he saw the food, “This is a ton of food! I thought we were broke!” I say “Not today, Daniel. So let’s grub out. This is our treat.”

A pick up truck pulls into the parking lot and drives past where we were sitting. The driver was an old man, Daniel and Sean were caught up in a conversation when I noticed the guy peering at us. He disappeared behind the back of the gas station. Daniel noticed the Chock-O-Crisps sitting on the table, his eyes widened “Really? You got me a Chock-O-Crisp?!” Sean tells him “Course we did! You deserved it.”

Brody was leaving the gas station when he saw us at the table. We turn to face him, he asks “Where are you guys off to now?” Sean says “Uuuh...South. I guess.” He says “Right on. Pro tip, don’t feed the bears! See ya later...” The three of us wave bye to him. I pull the map out of my backpack, unfold it and place it on the table. Daniel says “Whoa, that’s a big map...” I say jokingly “Yeah...I hope we can read it...”

Daniel and I switch places so he can sit next to Sean and get a better look at the map. He asks “Is this supposed to be Washington? I don’t recognize anything...” Sean says “Yeah. Me neither...But we have to be somewhere in there.” He says “Hey, I know! We’re here! There’s a gas station, see?” I say “Nah, no way. We were near Mount Rainier yesterday. But it’s miles away now.” Daniel says “Yeah, okay...”

Sean moves the marker along the path to find where we are. He says “All right...This is it!” Daniel asks “Are you sure?” He says “Yes, it is. It’s next to the river we camped by yesterday, here we are.” Daniel begins to move the marker several miles away, “Okay, so...Can we go there tonight?” Sean tells him “Are you kidding? It’s way too far! You want to walk a whole week again?” Daniel says “Awww...But it looks cool!” He says “Hold on, I’ll find where we can go.”

We were looking at the map when an old guy, says “Hey kids. Looks like you’re out camping.” I tell him “Oh...yeah! Just going over trails and...stuff.” The guy says “Seems dangerous to be out here all alone...But maybe you’re the ones who need to be watched.” Sean asks “Huh? What do you mean? We’re just...” He says “Sure hoped you paid for all that. We don’t tolerate shoplifters.” I tell him “Sir...We paid for this...and the map was free.” He says “Well let’s go inside and you show us what you bought.” Sean says “No...Thanks...We...have to go...”

The three of us begin to gather our stuff and get up to leave when the guy pushes Sean’s chest with his finger. He says “Nope. You’re going inside...Don’t make this worse for yourself, kid. Or I will...” I place my hands on Daniel’s shoulders as we take a step back but Sean was a little stuck.

Sean yells “Daniel, (Y/N), get out of here! Go!” Daniel and I back away as the guy tells him “You stay!” He yells again “Now!” Daniel and I get away and manage to hide in the woods near the gas station. The guy never found us, he eventually gave up and headed back.

It began to rain when the guy left the woods. Daniel and I sneak back to the gas station. We saw Doris leave and the guy a few minutes later. We walked pass the wooden bear statues, past a back room when all of a sudden we heard something crash. Daniel found a vent on the other side of the back room door. He runs toward it and asks “Sean? Sean? Where are you? Sean? Can you hear me?” I ask a little panicked “Sean?” We hear Sean faintly say “Daniel? (Y/N)? I’m right here...Are...are you both okay?”

Daniel tells him “I...I think so...That old guy chased us into the woods...But...I think we lost him...Is he gone? I’m really, really scared...” Sean tells him faintly “Hey, enano. You’re doing great! You totally fooled them! Thanks to both of you...we have a chance of getting out of here.” He asks “Yeah...?” Sean says faintly “Yeah. We gotta hurry, though...He called the cops on us.”

Sean asks faintly “Can you try and open this vent?” I tell him “Yes.” The vent won’t come off, “Sorry, Sean...It won’t move...” He says “Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out. There’s a window over there. Maybe you can find a way in or something?” Daniel and I run over to the window and try to figure out a way. He says “Uuhhh...there’s no way. But there’s this neon sign! Hold on I think...Here! Is this better?” As the sign shines bright red, Sean says “It is, but be careful, it might attract him.”

Sean then asks “Hey, you think you can open the back door?” Daniel runs over to try it, “I don’t know...It won’t open! It’s locked! What do we do?” He says “I don’t know...Okay, I see some keys. But I can’t reach them...Maybe I can...get them if I can pry this pipe off the wall...Can you find some sort of tool out there?” Daniel says “I don’t know where one is!”

Sean says faintly “I think I saw a big file...thing in the workshop, with all those bear sculptures...” I tell Daniel “Daniel, stay here. I’ll go and check.” I run to where we saw all those statues and luckily laying right on top of the table was a big file. I grab it and run back, Daniel was chatting through the vent. I say “Don’t mean to interrupt but...Sean! I’ve found it.” I slide the file through the bent bars of the vent. Daniel asks “Is this what you wanted?” Sean says “This is it!” We can hear him try to do something “Come on...Let’s do this...” apparently it worked because next thing we heard was “Yes!”

Daniel asks “Did you do it?” We look and see the keys being slipped through the vent bars, he says “Here, here! Come on!” Daniel says “Okay, hold on!” He grabbed the keys and we ran to the back door. As he was unlocking the door, I looked around to make sure the guy wasn’t coming back. He got the door open, runs inside and rushes right to Sean. He says “Sean! Oh God...I was so scared!”

Sean turns to look at us, he asks “Holy shit...Did that motherf...Did that asshole hit you? Did he?” I tell him “No! He tried...But...we got away!” He says “Okay. We need to cut this off. Fast!” Daniel goes to the desk and returns with a pair of scissors, “How about these?” He says “Dude, you rock. Did that asshole see you?” Daniel proudly says “No way...I’m invisible...” Sean tells him “Yeah you are.”

Daniel got the ties cut and runs out into the gas station. I give Sean a giant hug. We both pull away and he says “Now we gotta get our stuff...and go.” From the gas station, we hear the old guy say “Don’t make me hurt you, kid...” Daniel yells “Let go! SEAN!” The lights flicker, Sean puts on his backpack and we rush to the door. We see shelves and merchandise scattered all around the store. I ask in shock “Daniel? What...What happened? What...What did you do?” He said shakingly “I...I don’t know...I don’t know what happened...” Sean tells him assuringly “I-It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

We notice the old guy laying on the floor appearing to be unconscious. Sean makes his way towards the camping supplies. The old guy wakes up and grabs Sean’s leg, he says “You fucking little ****, you, your brother and your (girlfriend/boyfriend) are going to jail for the rest of your lives...” He says while trying to break free “The hell with you. Get the fuck off me, bitch!” He got free while the old guy steadily rises, Sean shouts “Run! I’m right behind you!” The old guy says “Get...Get back here you shit!” He begins kicking the guy “I told you...to leave us...alone!” I ask in horror “Sean?!” Daniel asks in horror “Sean?! What are you doing?” He says as he pushes us toward the door “Come on! We got to get out of here...”

We run outside in to the pouring rain and head straight for the woods. Sean shouts “Come on, come on!” As he runs ahead, Daniel next and I am last. Daniel shouts “Wait!” We reach a fence, both Sean and I climb over and then help him. I say “Shit!” Daniel asks “Where are we going?!” We all of a sudden spot a lit up car in the distance.

Sean shouts “Watch out! Over there...Let’s go...” Daniel unsure says “I dunno...” We get to the car and start banging on the window. The guy inside jumps and we see that it is Brody. He asks muffled “Whoa! What are you doing out here? You almost scared the shit out of me.” He partially opens the back door and asks “You guys okay? You don’t...look okay.” Sean begins explaining “That asshole...at the gas station...went fucking crazy...tied me up in his back office...I swear...” Brody says “Dude, say no more, I believe you, okay?”

Brody opens the back door and goes to the driver’s side. I help Daniel and get in the back of the car with him, then we shut the door. Brody says in the rain “Shit’s crazy out in the woods. Get in! You too. Hurry up, before he catches us...” He opens the passenger door for Sean as he immediately climbs in. Brody gets in the driver’s seat and drives toward the highway.

[dancerlittle006]

Extra Extra Read All About It!

First things first, I don’t own anything related to Disney or Newsies. Second of all, it’s been a couple of years since I’ve posted anything on this site but I’ve been writing for other fandoms – Jonas Brothers & One Direction! I’ve been watching and listening to Newsies since the beginning of quarantine and this was just something I threw together. Not sure if I will continue to write in the Newsies fandom but we’ll see where this goes!

June 1901

The sun hit his face as he waited at the circulation gate. He had been deep in thought, trying to figure out what he did. His sister had stopped coming around the lodge house and he couldn’t figure out what he or one of the other newsies had done to make her stay away. Jack had still been coming around, goofing off with his boys and even his brother had been staying quiet around him. 

“Papes for the newsies. Line up boy.” Came the call from Weisel. Race watched his brothers line up, grabbing their papes. 

The Newsies scattered, reading the headlines, trying to figure out what white lies they would be telling that day. The headline stunk again, making it another difficult day to sell. 

“Yous alright?” His shoulder was nudged, causing him to stumble forward. “Yous head up in them clouds.” 

Race’s eyes went wide, looking over his shoulder. Albert was standing there with concerned eyes, looking at his best friend. “You’ve been quiet. Everything okays?”

“I’ve got things on my mind.” He shrugged. “Ivs got to figure it out first.”

Albert nodded, putting a hand on Race’s shoulder. “Is here if you need anything.” 

Nodding, he went to the gate to grab his papes before heading towards the racetrack. His normal customers made small talk while he sold the paper. They asked him about the headlines before handing over the coins. Before he knew it, the bells were ringing in the noon hour just as he sold his last one. 

Adjusting his hat and his cigar, he shuffled his feet away from the racetrack. Inside his mind, he didn’t realize his feet had led him directly to Jack and Katherine’s brownstone.  Taking a seat on the stairs, he took off his cap and messed with his hair. 

He heard the familiar clanking of the typewriter as Kat typed up her latest article. He sighed, dragging himself to his feet. Walking slowly up the stairs, he raised his hand to knock, but quickly lowered it. He did it again twice before a voice captured his attention. “Doors opened, Race. Come on in.” 

He jumped hearing her voice. Seeing her standing at the window grinning, he pushed a smile to his face before opening the door. Hesitating, he paused before walking in.  

“Didn’t know you were coming over today.” She smirked, his head snapping up to look at her. 

Shutting the door behind him, the smile fell from his face. He shrugged his shoulders half-hardheartedly. “Really didn’t expect to come here either. Feet just had a mind of their own.” 

“You okay?” 

She motioned him to follow her into the living room and sit on the sofa. He shuffled his feet before collapsing onto the brown sofa her parents had gotten her and Jack as a wedding gift. He sighed loudly. “Is got stuff on my mind.”

“Anything I can help with?” Kat pulled her feet under her on the sofa, glancing in concern at her younger brother. “How was selling today?”

“It wa’ fine.” Worry crossed his face. She got up from her place and sat next to him, pulling him into a half hug. 

Rubbing his back, she sighed. “You’re worrying me Race. What’s wrong?”

“Did I do something to make yous mad?” He said, in such a low whisper that she had a hard time hearing what he had said. 

Katherine’s hand stilled on his back. She heard what he had said but her mind was slow to catch up. “Say that again.”

“Did I do somethings to make yous mad? You haven’t been to the lodge house in weeks and every time I ask Jack what’s up, he makes up some lame excuse. He’s not the best liar in the city, Kat.” Race spat out, his chest heavily with emotion. “So Is asking, did I do something to make you angry?”

Katherine’s face softened at his heartbroken question. Ever since helping with the strike, she had more or less adopted the Newsies as her brothers. Since Race was so close with Jack, it was no surprise that she also became really close with the young man, to the point that she called him her brother. 

“No, Race you didn’t do anything to make me mad.” She started, pausing to figure out how she would tell him. “Jack and I got some news.”

Race’s eyes went wide. “Yous okay?”

“Oh yea, everything’s okay.” She waved him off. “But you can’t tell your brother that I told you this . . . he has this whole thing planned out to tell you boys.”

Race held his breath. Jack hadn’t indicated anything was wrong but it had been a day since he saw his older brother. But he tried to slow his mind down of running through the worst case scenarios that could be happening with his older brother and sister.

“You’re going to be an uncle, Race.” Those words pulled him out of his own little world. His jaw dropped, his mind a little late to what he was hearing. 

“A uncle?” He repeated before a grin split his lips. “Yous and Jack going to has a baby?” 

Katherine nodded, putting her hands over her stomach. “Out of all the boys, I knew I couldn’t keep it a secret around you, since we’re so close, which is why I haven’t been to the house in a few weeks. Jack has a big thing planned out in a couple of weeks, but I knew I couldn’t keep it from you.” 

“Plums, you’re not joking, right?” Race was a frequent jokester, and often recruited Katherine to plot and plan. 

Tears were at her eyes as she shook her head. “Never, I would never joke about this.” 

He stood, pulling her up from her chair before pulling her into a tight hug. “Plums, congratulations. Yous going to be a great mum.” 

“Thank you Race. I’m sorry I made you worry. That was never my intention - I just knew that the moment I saw you, I wouldn’t be able to keep the news in.” She hugged him back. 

Before he could wave off her apology, the door to the small apartment opened, with a whistling tune and heavy footsteps. Katherine simply shook her head, keeping an eye on Race, as Jack slipped his shoes off and soon was in the entryway to the kitchen.  As soon as he saw Race near his wife, his entire body was on edge. 

“Who’s hurt? What happened?” Jack immediately asked, stalking across the kitchen to two of the most important people in his life. 

Race immediately shook his head. “All is good. Is just visiting Plums.” 

Jack took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself down.  In the middle of calming down, he gave his wife a look. “You told him . . . Plumber!” 

“It’s Kelly, Jack and has been for almost a year.” She gave him a knowing look. “And also, I told him nothin’.”

Race snorted at the whine that came out of his brother’s mouth. 

“Uh huh . . . sure you didn’t.” Jack pointed his finger between his best friend and his wife. “I know you both too well . . . Race looks like he swallowed the canary and you look like you wanna pass out.” A grin settled on his lips. “What do you think, Uncle Race?”

A sigh slipped between Race’s lips. “I think daddy and mummy are proper names for you both. Congratulations!  The boys are going to be ova the moon for ya. Is this why yous been quiet around me when you’re at the house?” 

“You can’t tell them anything and yes. I knew if yous called me out on it, I wouldn’t be able to not tell you.” Jack’s eyes went wide. “I have it planned out and everything.” 

Race nodded, raising an eyebrow in his direction. “And how long do I have to keep this secret?”

Jack shrugged, looking over at Katherine. “Well . . . we haven’t really decided when we’re going to let the rest of the boys in on the secret. But you cannot tell anyone, not even Canlon or DaSilva.” 

Race knew that not telling his boyfriend and best friend were going to be difficult. “Then you betta hurry up and tell the fellas.” 

Three Days Later

A heat wave had descended down on New York City, causing all of the Newsies to sell their papes in a hurry before descending on Jacobi’s for a glass of refreshing water. Race looked around at the fellas who had joined him. Albert and Les were all laughing at what looked like Davey's expense.  Specs, Finch, and Elmer had their heads together, discussing something important by the serious looks on their faces. Romeo had just taken a gulp of water before spraying it out all over Crutchie, causing the latter to cuff Romeo over the head. 

The heavy closing of the door caught Race’s attention, a grin sliding across his face. “Look what the cat drug in . . . hey fellas, it’s the newlyweds.” 

A rousing, hearty hello was thrown in Kat and Jack’s direction as they pulled up two chairs to join the crew. Jacobi brought over two glasses of water and refills for the boys before leavin’ them to their business. 

“So why do we have the pleasure of seeing your mugs? Thought yous were going to be busy this week?” Albert looked at the married couple suspiciously. 

Jack traded a glance with Kat and Race. He pulled a newspaper from his back pocket, nervously twisting it in his hands. 

The boys had grown quiet, watching their leader with worried eyes. They hadn’t seen him this nervous since the strike happened. “Jack, yous okay?”

He lifted his head, looking over at Les’ concerned face. “I will be but I’ve got some news to share with yous.” 

Race fought to keep the grin from his face at how Jack was milking his and making his brothers worry. Taking a deep breath, Race looked at his older brother. “Just tell us already . . . yous making the boys worried.” 

“We got an early print of Plum’s new article.” Jack fumbled with the paper, pulling his eyes up to look at his boys. “Who wants to be the first to read it?” 

The noise level went up - Katherine’s articles made it easy to sell papes - so every Newsies at the restaurant was eager to read it. Jack looked at his wife with a grin. “Who do you think should read it first?” 

“Give it to Albert.” Kat’s eyes sparkled with the secret and nodded to the redhead. 

Jack nodded, standing to walk over to Al. “Yous got to read it to the class so everyone can enjoy Kat’s words.” 

The Newsies watched Albert’s eyes scan the paper, jaw dropped, before jumping over to Jack. “Yous serious?” 

Laughing, Race, Kat, and Jack couldn’t hold it in anymore. Jack nodded, hugging Albert back. “How about you share it with thes rest of them?”

Albert went to open his mouth several times before looking at Jack. Picking up the pape, he held it in front of him, clearing his throat. “ Extra! Extra! Read all about it . . . . Jack and Plums are going to be parents.”

It was silent, until all hell broke loose amongst the Newsies. Eight Newsies clamored to get to either Kat or Jack to offer their congratulations.  Race stood back, took in the sight and committed that to his mind to never forget. 

“Wait!” Romeo spoke up, causing silence to hush over to the boys. “How come Race looks like he already knew? Jackie you keepin’ secrets from us?”

Race just grinned. “Just taking it alls in.” 

Raising a glass of water, he motioned to the rest of the Newsies. “To the brother/dad wes always had to beings a real dad! Congratulations, Jackie and Plums.” 

The Newsies celebrated the wonderful news of their growing family by toasting with water and having a festive feast at Jacobi’s. 

November 1901

Jack had stopped by the lodge house to let the Newsies know the baby had arrived late on November 16 at 3am. He was sly with details but promised his brothers they would be able to visit soon after giving them a few days of adjusting to being a family of three. 

Jack had seeked Race out at his normal selling spot and mentioned bringing some of the boys after selling hours.  The boys had pooled some of their earnings to buy a bottle of wine for Plums, after Romeo mentioned they couldn’t show up empty handed. 

Race had waited on the steps of the lodge house, waiting on the few he had mentioned Jack’s request to.  Race had mentioned the event to Romeo, Albert, Specs, Crutchie, Finch, Elmer, Davey and Les so as soon as they had arrived, they set off for Jack’s. 

Race kicked a pebble as the rambunctious group weaved their way through the streets of Manhattan. The streets were still bustling with people not paying attention to the ragtag team of young men. Soon, Albert had stopped the group at the familiar brownstone, causing a hush to settle on the group. 

Jack was sitting on the brownstone with a giant smile on his face. “Hi boys . . . been waiting forever for yas to shows up.” 

“Don’t ya have more important things to be worried about?” Race grinned, hopping up the stairs to hug his brother. “Doncha have a new baby to look afta?” 

Jack nodded hello to the rest of his brothers, opening the door to the brownstone letting the Newsies in. “Can’t help that Is excited for you to meet the baby.” 

Jack continued into the house, while the Newsies stopped. Kat was in a rocking chair in the living room with a bundle of blankets in her arms. Her face lit up at her brothers. “Come, come. Meet your niece.” 

“Niece?” The boys echoed back, looking between Jack and Plums. “Yous have a daughter, Jack?” 

Jack tilted his head. “Didn’t Is tell you that?”

“No, you told us the babys here, arrived on the 16th at 3 in the morning. Yous gave no additional details.” Albert supplied, shaking his head at the new dad. “Yous left us hanging.” 

Kat laughed, rolling her eyes at her husband. “You poor boys. Well come here, meet your niece. Who wants to hold her first?”

Albert and Romeo playfully fought over who would be the first to hold her while the rest of the Newsies gave Jack and Kat hugs and admired the new baby from afar.  Kat caught Race’s eyes and grinned. “Well Uncle Race, wants to hold your niece?” 

Race immediately felt himself shaking his head, but knew he wanted to hold the baby and keep her safe. “Plums . . . Is never held a baby before.”

She shook her head. “Come here. Sit down, and hold your arms like so.” She demonstrated and as soon as his arms were stable, a yellow bundle was put into his arms. 

Race felt himself relax as his eyes swept over the baby. Her lips were puckered and eyes closed tightly as she slept peacefully. “Wow Jackie, Plums, she’s gorgeous. What’s her name?”

“Samantha Anne Kelly.” Kat knelt next to the rocking chair, looking at Race. “What do you think Uncle Race?”

“She’s perfect.” He used his free hand to bat away tears that had escaped. “She’s just perfect. Congrats Plums. Yous a mom.”

The rest of the evening was passing the baby around and cooing at how perfect, sweet, and precious baby Samantha was. And Race was a very attentive uncle and vowed to himself to always protect that little girl from harm. 

[dailyhyperfixation]

🌈 but you fix the cursed post about steve opening letter after letter getting rejected by every school

Thank you for your request! 🥰

Oh god that post really breaks my heart

Let’s fix that (this ends happy I promise)

Send me an AU and I’ll write something

.

So it’s just after graduation, and Steve just barely skated through his senior year. Between the whole Upside Down thing, losing his King crown to a certain someone from California, having a few mental breakdowns, and suddenly being in a charge of a bunch of kids, he hadn’t exactly been able to focus on school. Steve had applied to five schools, and over the month of May the letters start coming in. His heart sinks when he grabs the mail and sees the scrawny thin envelope from the first school. Before he opens it he already knows he’s been rejected. The lack of surprise doesn’t help. He still cries. 3 more letters come. Steve cries a little harder each time, in that big empty house all by himself.

It’s well into June now, and Steve is working at Scoops Ahoy, desperately trying to keep that 5th letter out of his mind. The one that hasn’t come yet. The one that’s surely another rejection. He just scoops ice cream, and when he really feels like torturing himself, he goes to the pool.

Now normally the pool isn’t Steve’s scene. But he goes under the guise of staying in shape for the ladies and definitely not for a certain someone. A certain muscular blue-eyed someone who’s allergic to wearing shirts. No, Billy Hargrove is the bane of Steve’s existence. And yet he can’t stay away from him. They trade snappy insults in public, or more accurately Billy teases him to death and Steve always ends up complimenting the other boy by accident (totally by accident)

“You better be careful there princess, you’re so pale you might just catch on fire laying in the sun like that.”

“Yeah well we can’t all have a perfect tan, can we, Hargrove?”

But most nights they somehow find themselves smoking on the hood of the Camaro at the quarry, or drinking cheap beer by Steve’s pool when his parents aren’t home. If Steve didn’t know any better he might even call them friends.

But on this particular evening, Steve is at home. And he’s drowning his sorrows in whiskey because today… well today was the last possible day he could have gotten an acceptance letter. Actually 3 days ago was the last day, but it’s finally hitting Steve that it’s not coming. His last possible hope from the last school he applied to. So Steve is downing burning whiskey and crying on his couch in that big empty house again. And he’s just going to lie here until he has to get up and put on a happy face for the kids, or the customers buying ice cream, or Billy at the pool, because his life is falling apart and there’s no one here. There’s no one here to say it’ll be okay, no one to-

DING DONG

Who the hell could be knocking on the door of the Harrington house at this hour interrupting this very important business that needs attending? (That business being drinking and crying but that’s irrelevant.) Tripping over his own feet as he stands, Steve stumbles to the door, tears and snot and a bit of whiskey still streaming down his face because he just doesn’t care anymore anymore and he yanks the door open ready to yell in the face of whoever’s disturbing his wallowing and-

“Wow, Harrington, you look like shit.” Those words managed to come out of Billy’s mouth as a scoff, barely masking the concern in his voice that Steve didn’t even notice.

“Fuck off, Hargrove. I’m busy. Go away.” Billy’s hand caught the door as Steve attempted to shut it in his face.

“Hey…” the asshole facade was down in a second as soon as Billy saw that something was really wrong with the boy. The boy he had been secretly harboring feelings for since the second he set eyes on him. The boy that he teased and shoved in public to keep that secret, but god if he wasn’t weak for Steve Harrington, and who cares why he was here in the first place, he’ll do anything to stop Steve from crying. “Hey, princess, what’s wrong? Hey… just, just sit down and tell me what it is,” Steve was fully sobbing now as Billy, unsure what to do with a distraught Steve, led him back inside to the couch, “I don’t… I don’t know if I can… uhh help, or anything, but please just talk to me…” fuck Billy had absolutely no idea how to deal with a sad Steve, he looked like a kitten curling up into himself as he sat. Billy was itching to go out and punch what or whoever made Steve cry, but he needed to be here for him. Tentatively, Billy wrapped an arm around his back, curling Steve’s face into his shoulder. Tears, snot, whiskey and all.

Eventually, Steve’s sobs quieted down. “Do you.. do you want to tell me what that was all about?” Billy whispered, hesitant to break the silence they had settled into. “No… not right now. I don’t want to talk about it. Just.. fuck Billy why are you even here?” Steve whispered back, his breath tickling Billy’s ear from his face still shoved right in the crook of his neck.

“Oh it’s dumb, probably nothing important. Just, uh… our last names are pretty similar, right?”

“Billy what the fuck does that have to do with anything?” despite his huffing Steve still refused to move from his comfortable perch, even snuggling into Billy more, curling his arms around Billy waist, and nuzzling his face further into his neck, to tired to think after wearing himself out with his breakdown.

“Well I just mean that’s probably why I got some mail that was meant for you a couple days ago, I kept forgetting to give it to you but I have this big old envelope that says Steve Harrington and I figured they probably mixed up Harrington and Hargrove, they’re kind of similar so I-“ in the midst of Billy’s rambling Steve bolted upright.

“What did you just say.”

“Uhhh your mail got delivered to my house?” Billy stammered out, alarmed by Steve’s sudden seriousness but mostly by his sudden shift to sitting… directly on Billy’s lap, so close that their noses are almost touching, all Billy had to do was lean forward and…

“Uhh!” Billy cut his train of thought off quickly, “that’s why I’m here because I have this big envelope that’s from a college, I think, and it has your name on it so…” Billy grabbing for the envelope he had tossed beside him on the couch in the midst of frantically comforting Steve and holding it up between them.

“Here you go.”

Steve’s eyes had never been wider in his life.

This was no scrawny thin envelope like the others. There was clearly much more inside than a short letter of rejection. Steve closed his eyes and took a deep breath as Billy looked on in confusion. Then he ripped open the envelope.

Yes.

 Yes. In big bold letters at the top.

Yes! 

 YES, You have been accepted!

“YES!!!” Steve screeched at the top of his lungs, ecstatically bouncing up and down, as a very startled Billy grabbed his hips to stop him from literally bouncing on his dick right now, “What the fuck, bambi?” Steve was almost hysterical at this point, laughing and screaming “Billy, I got in! I did it, I did it!” arms flailing wildly before grabbing Billy by the face and kissing him deeply and god it felt like he belonging right here, in Billy’s lap surrounded by the smell of his cologne, kissing him and- wait. Oh shit.

Steve pulled back abruptly, snapped out of his reverie, Billy stock still beneath him, blue eyes filled with shock, “Oh shit, I didn’t mean… that is- I should, oh fuck sorry I-“ but then Billy surged forward and returned the kiss enthusiastically, hand finding a home in Steve’s hair and Steve just… melted. If he wasn’t so excruciatingly happy, he might have been ashamed of the whimper he let out when Billy broke the kiss to whisper against his lips, “Been waiting for you to do that for a long time, princess.” before diving right back in to kiss him breathless.

.

Wow that was longer than I was planning but I’m bad at writing short things 😅 Thank you so much for the prompt! ❤️ I might continue this at some point 🤔

[shootwinterfest]

Body Works

Shoot Secret Santa Gift by @maybesomedaysameen

Root glanced over her shoulder surreptitiously as she pretended to reorganize the incense holders. Part of her job at Bath and Body Works was keeping an eye on customers and Root had no problem keeping an eye on this one. The short girl from her Calculus II class was lurking in the candle aisle, smelling things intently. Her name was Sameen Shaw. They sat on the same side of the lecture hall but had never spoken before. She was very hot, but unfortunately, she had a boyfriend; some axe body spray wearing douchebag.

She’d had been wandering around smelling candles for almost an hour. She’d even picked up a basket on the way in, but hadn’t put anything in it. Normally, Root would have chalked it up to a college student trying to de-stress, but the girl was dressed all in black. The ski cap and heavy coat weren’t particularly suspicious; it was two weeks before Christmas after all and New York was freezing in the winter. Still, she practically screamed ‘I’m trying to be inconspicuous’ and ‘I barely know what a candle is.’

It wasn’t a particularly large Bath and Body Works, so Root was keeping her distance. This was only a part time job, so she didn’t really care if Sameen stole anything. This was just the only entertainment she’d had all day. Despite it being the week before Christmas, the store had been pretty dead. Root would have given Sameen her focus even if it had been busy.

Sameen was hot, but she was also smart and that was definitely a turn on. Root had looked at her grades online. Their school’s system had been so easy to hack into and Root had access to pretty much everything. That included Sameen’s arrest record. It was only a couple minor thefts in high school and a fight at the bar on campus. Nothing that would put Root off.

Root glanced over her shoulder again, but Sameen was gone. She looked around the area, not seeing her anywhere. Quickly moving to her last location, Root spotted her across the aisle in the soap section, beginning her smell regimen again. Apparently, she’d exhausted the candle options.

Wondering why she was going through such an intense deliberation, Root leaned against a shelf and watched as Sameen held two soaps in her hand, looking between the two. Carefully, she held one and then the other under her nose. It was almost funny how long this decision was taking her. Maybe she was buying a gift for someone special. Root wrinkled her nose at the thought of Sameen buying something for her boyfriend to smell.

Sameen started to put one of the soaps into her basket and hesitated. Shaking her head, she put it back on the shelf and dropped the other soap in. She looked over the shelf again and took the soap back out of her basket again, placing it back in its spot. Root rolled her eyes and headed towards her.

“Hello!” she greeted, trying to sound enthusiastic. She stopped an appropriate distance away. “Can I help you with something?”

Sameen tensed and looked at her, her eyes widening in surprise. She clearly recognized Root. Looking away, she crossed her arms. “No.”

“Ok,” Root said, a little caught off guard. Sameen definitely needed help. She decided to be direct. “Are you here to steal something?”

Sameen’s eyebrows shot up, insulted. “Excuse me?”

“Well, you’re wearing all black and you’ve been here for almost an hour without buying something. That’s kind of suspicious.”

“If I was stealing something, I would have left after 30 seconds.”

Root smirked. “Good point.”

Sameen took a step forward, forcing Root to back up or get hit. “I’m trying to pick out something that smells good. I’d be out of here a lot faster if you actually sold anything that smelled nice.”

Root laughed. “You would know if we sold anything that smelled good. I mean, you’ve smelled everything.”

Scowling, Shaw dropped her basket on the floor dramatically. “I’m leaving.”

She started walking toward the door and Root sighed, scooping up the basket. “I was just teasing! Take your time. I like having something nice to look at.”

“Whatever.” She glared at Root, but she took the basket back. Her eyes ran over Root’s body, lingering on the way her half-apron accentuated her waist. Meeting Root’s eyes again, she smiled dangerously. “Since you’re so eager to talk, you can give me a hand.”

“I would love to give you a hand,” Root said, putting her hands on her hips. “Where should I put it?”

“Wow,” Sameen snorted. “You’re not even subtle.”

“Oh, sorry.” Root widened her eyes, putting on her most innocent expression. She let her body tense like she was shy, the act of pretending coming easily to her. “I don’t know anything about flirting, and I’ve never even been kissed! I didn’t even notice that you checked me out!”

Sameen glared at her, but the curve of her lips gave away her amusement. “Uh huh. Can you just help me find something that smells good? I don’t have all day.”

Smiling, Root dropped the act, her body relaxing. “Sure can do. What kind of good smell are you looking for?”

“Some shit a girl would like,” Sameen replied with a shrug.

“Shouldn’t you know? You’re a girl.” Root took a step back and obviously checked her out. “A pretty hot girl.”

Another smile tugged at Sameen’s lips, and Root knew she was winning her over. Sameen could put on an annoyed act, but she hadn’t walked out of the store yet. In fact, she took a step toward Root, her basket dangling from her fingers.

“Do you flirt with all the girls that come in here?”

Root winked. “Just the cute ones.”

Chuckling, Sameen gestured with her basket. “Ok, Root. Show me some good smells.”

“You know my name?” Root asked, surprised. They’d never spoken before. Sameen did look at her a lot in class, though. She thought she was sneaky, but Root noticed. Maybe she was thinking about dumping her boyfriend and playing for the other team. “I know your name, too. Sameen.”

She winced. “Call me Shaw. No one calls me Sameen.”

Root pouted, but she led the way back to the soap aisle. “So, how did you learn my name?”

“You talk in class constantly,” Shaw answered. “The teacher says your name so much, I’d have to be an idiot not to know it by now.”

Smirking, Root twirled a strand of hair around her finger, watching the way Shaw’s eyes focused on it. “The teacher calls on me, but she doesn’t use the right name. How do you know I go by ‘Root’?”

Shaw flushed, her excuse falling through. They reached the soap aisle and she snatched a bar of the shelf. “I must have seen something on Facebook. Look, are you going to help me, or not? Isn’t that your whole job?”

“I don’t think I believe you, but I’ll let it go.” Root pushed herself off the shelf and turned to face it. “Are you interested in boys or girls?”

“Excuse me?”

Root grinned, leaning closer. “Who are you shopping for? A man or a woman?”

Her eyes narrowing, Shaw didn’t move away. She leaned in, too, her coat brushing against Root’s arm. “A woman.”

“Anyone I know?”

Shaw glared at her for a second longer before shaking her head, a teasing smile tugging at full lips. “No. She’s not in our class.”

Raising an eyebrow, Root tore her eyes away, turning to the shelf of soaps. “I’m surprised you aren’t buying something for your boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” Shaw repeated, distastefully. “You mean Tomas? He’s a good time, but he’s not my boyfriend.”

Root smiled to herself, pretending to look for a soap. “So, a girlfriend then. She’s a lucky woman.”

Groaning, Shaw shifted her basket from one hand to the other. “Just ask if I’m single. I am, by the way. I’m not really the dating type.”

“Me neither,” Root murmured, tossing her hair over her shoulder and meeting Shaw’s eyes. “I don’t need a relationship to be satisfied.”

Shaw gave her a knowing look before glancing down at the bar of soap in her hand. “Glorious Morning.” She sniffed it and pretended to gag. “Yuck. Smells like my grandmother.”

Taking it from her, Root looked at the ingredients. “Hyacinth and lavender. So, we know those are bad. Hmm.” She traded the bar for another. “How about this?”

Shaw reached out a hand for it, waiting for Root to put it on her palm. She curled her fingers, brushing them against Root as she moved the bar to her nose. Her eyes met Root’s, dark and mysterious. The look made heat pool in Root’s stomach, and she had to take a breath and compose herself.

“Ew, no,” Shaw muttered. “Midnight Terrace? What the fuck kind of names are these?” She turned the bar of soap over. “Lilac and Honey. It’s too much.”

Root laughed as she tossed the bar onto the shelf. “Ok, picky. Well, what kind of stuff does this girl like?”

“Uh, I’m not sure.�� Shaw put her basket on the floor. “I… haven’t talk to her before.”

Root froze as she put the pieces together. Shaw already knew her name, she was buying something for a girl she’d never talked to, and she’d been flirting with Root this whole time. Licking her lips, Root held back a grin, nodding seriously instead.

“I see.” She put the bar of soap back and wandered down the aisle to the lotions. “If I was getting a gift from someone, that implied a lot of intimate contact, I think I’d prefer lotion over soap. It’s more versatile.”

“Interesting.” Shaw casually followed after her, sticking her hands in her pockets. “You wouldn’t want to be… intimate in the shower?”

Root lifted an eyebrow playfully. “I’m more than willing to be intimate in the shower. I just like lotion, because it because it gives you an excuse to really work someone’s body.”

Shaw nodded thoughtfully, her cheeks turning a soft red. She stepped into Root’s personal space and acted like she was perusing the bottles. “I do like to work bodies. Although, I usually get complaints that I’m too rough.”

“Really?” Root breathed, her heartbeat quickening. “I think a good massage should be a little rough. If it doesn’t leave you sore, what’s the point?”

“I agree.” Shaw glanced at her again. “Which lotion does your boyfriend buy you?”

Root laughed loudly, Shaw’s question surprising it out of her. The idea of dating a boy was hilarious. She had never liked a boy in her life, and she honestly forgot about them if they weren’t around. Brushing her hair from her face, Root grinned at Shaw.

“I’m single,” she said, still chuckling, “and I only like girls. No one buys me lotion, Shaw. I buy it myself and use it with anyone I want.”

Reaching for a bottle, Shaw hesitated. She let her hand fall heavily onto the shelf and then looked up at Root. “You know I’m buying this for you, right? Like, you got that?”

“Oh, I got it.”

“Well, then, just pick something, so I can buy it and we can go use it.”

Frowning, Root gestured to the store around them. “I’m in the middle of my shift. I can’t just leave the store four days before Christmas.  I’d get fired.”

Shaw hesitated, awkwardly stepping away. “Oh. Right. I guess-“

“I’m totally fucking with you,” Root said, grinning. “Let me close up.”

She started walking away, but remembered herself and went back to where Shaw was still standing, staring after her. Grabbing Shaw’s shoulders, she shoved her into the shelves, knocking over the perfectly lined bottles of lotions. Shaw only had the chance to look surprised for a second before Root’s mouth covered her own, their bodies pressing together.

Shaw’s hands found Root’s waist instantly, pulling her even closer. Her mouth was demanding against Root, insistent and aggressive. It made Root melt in her arms, ready for even more. She wished Shaw could rip her clothes off right here and take her on the floor, but there were cameras everywhere and Root didn’t want the extra work to delete the footage.

She pulled herself away before she could change her mind. “I’ll be right back,” she panted into Shaw’s mouth. “If we go to my place, I’ve got plenty of stuff we can use.  Everything I own smells good.”

“What if I want to buy you something?” Shaw asked, her eyes half-closed and mouth half-open.

Root kissed her again, sinking her teeth into Shaw’s lower lip until she groaned. “You can buy me dinner later. We’ll need the energy.”

Shaw’s hands untied Root’s apron and threw it aside. She tugged up Root’s shirt, her hands spreading over soft skin. “What do I get out of this?”

“Hmm,” Root hummed against her lips. “I’m going to make this the best Christmas you’ve ever had. If you’re really nice, I’ll let you stay ‘til New Year’s.”

“Don’t worry,” Shaw said, digging her nails into Root’s hips. “I’m always nice.”

“Too bad.” Root pulled herself away, swiping her apron off the floor, and heading for the break room. “I prefer my women to on the naughty list.”

[knightthunderis]

Ch 8 Tours and History Lessons

Byron knew that this commoner had him over a barrel.  Without her, he, Malachi and House Blanchard were out of the running.  She was certainly not like any commoner he had ever come across besides Derrick Werner and his sister Serephine.  She did not negotiate terms like a commoner or a waitress.  She spoke like a CEO and there was something about the way she presented herself that actually made him afraid of her. She radiated power and strength.  She held herself in a stance of power and she knew it, she owned it and radiated it.  As he looked her over, he noticed her crest pin and recognized who it represented.  He had to agree to listen to and follow through on her terms if he wanted House Blanchard to survive this Social Season.  He sighed and then met Reimeiko’s eyes before speaking. “Alright Lady Reimeiko, what are your ground rules and terms.” the duke asked.

“Well first off I know that you recognize the crest I wear, so you now know who I really am.” Reimeiko started.

“Yes, Reimeiko Christyne Amaryllis Thunderis, Crown Princess of the kingdom of Thunderia.” Byron said.  “The eldest child of Thor and Kyiandra Thunderis.  But we will get into that later.  Now to your rules and regulations?”

“The rules and regulations are as follows.” Reimeiko said. “One, the word commoner is not to pass anyone’s mouth anymore.  You people spout it off like it is a vulgar word and it is not.  Except for a twist of fate, you could have been born into a common family and there is nothing wrong with them. Two, you will not talk down to me or treat me like I am inferior to you, you have to earn respect to gain it.  Three, no matter what happens, what I say goes no if, ands or buts about it.  I have spent my whole life being trained to be a queen, warrior, defender, protector, wife and mother.  I know the rules of court and customs and how to conduct myself as such so only if I need your knowledge elsewhere will I ask for it.  Four, the titles will only be engaged during these formal affairs no where else.  Titles do not make the person, it is how they act around others that makes them or breaks them.  Five, there will be straight up honesty if this is going to continue.  You know who I am, where I fit in and where I come from.  There will be no secrets here between us.  If I detect any falsehood or misinterpretation on your part, I will sever my connection to the both of you right then and there and there will be no turning back.  There will more than likely be more rules that come up but for now these are a start.  Are we agreed?”

“Agreed.” Byron and Malachi said.  Reimeiko sensed sincerity and honesty in both men and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Alright, now I want the full story from you about what is really going on with your house and family.” Reimeiko said, “I want the truth, no embellished fabrication.”

“Alright, like I said.” Byron replied sadly. “Perhaps Malachi did not fully explain what is going on, but I will.  While he has been around the prince, I have been back here doing the real work of running the house and estate.  And that is where you come in, but considering everything you brought to light, maybe we should reconsider our options.  You do not need us sponsoring you considering where you come from.”

“No, the sponsorship is a good cover,” Reimeiko said. “Just like my waitress cover at Russo’s.  ThunderStarUniversal will cover you financially for now, but because of the delicacy of this investigation I can not reveal everything yet.  I think there is more on your family’s financial strain than just old man Barnaby’s excessive spending.  Your finances will be covered in other ways for you two alone.  I have my suspicions about what is going on but until I have proof I really need you to trust me.”

“It is something we could use right now actually because we are kind of well very broke.” Malachi added. “I know I overstep but she said there was to be complete honesty and since she is representing our house, we can trust her because she is trusting us.”

“There is no shame in being broke.” Reimeiko said. “I have been there.  As long as you have the necessities in life everything else does not matter.  I guess that explains why I had to buy my own outfits and I guess I will be buying everything I will need here including the gown for the masquerade.  But that is okay.  As the Princess of Thunderia, I do have help in the financial situation in more ways than one.”

“Unfortunately that is precisely so.” Byron replied. “We can only afford the bare minimum.  No one outside House Blanchard knows how bad things really are for us.”

“Cecil is in this upto his ears and we have to know why and how.” EnDaryien said. “Reimeiko, using your Knight Thunder powers, do you sense anything out of the ordinary so far?”

“Maybe it is your former brother in law’s presence that is making me uneasy, but I am not sure.” Reimeiko thought. “I will keep digging to find it all.  He is married to Seidre’s twin sister Coradae.  I am sure that she will remember Reimeiko uh, I mean me.” Aloud, she asked. “Do you get money if I end up marrying the prince?”

“Not directly.” Byron replied. “But we can leverage the prestige to great effect.  It would be best to get that leverage before others found out our situation.  In the circles we run in, if word got out about our financial ruin, it would be a major scandal.  but our name is still worth something here in the royal line.”

“Their financial ruin is due to Barnaby’s major spending.” Marco said through the earpiece. “According to reports, he is in a coma in a major hospital in the West Indies.”

Reimeiko switched to Thunderian. “I think that ought to be checked out.  Something tells me that if this coma is for real then he would not be squandering the family fortune and there would be receipts of the purchases.”

“I will check right into that and send a small group to check out the hospital that Barnaby is supposedly in.” Marco said.

“At the very least, we can introduce you to the right people and get you invitations to the right events.” Malachi replied. “We can offer you a first rate education in the ways of court, starting with your wardrobe and branching out from there.”

“What did I just say about an education?” Reimeiko asked. “I know more about the ways of court and warfare than any of those so-called women in this court.  I am about to show those snobs up when I win Karyson back and get to the bottom of this mystery.  And what is wrong with what I am wearing?  I will have you remember this is the formal uniform of the houses of Thunderia and Galaxia and I represent both.”

“I guess one could consider it well, unconventionally adventurous.” Byron offered. “The point is whether or not you dress the part.  Now it is time to start memorizing the lineage of each great house.  No wait. Perhaps it is more urgent to educate you on silverware from the least to the most obscure.  You may dress the part but you also need to play it.”

“Byron, breathe.” Reimeiko ordered. “I am up-to-date on courtly maneuvers, table etiquette, manners, wine tasting, various dinner conversations and otherwise.  Furthermore, I was at the top of my class when it came to memorizing and knowing the lineage of all of the kingdoms in and around the Universal Alliance.  I know everything there is to know about your kingdom’s various great houses and that is including yours.”

“Hey, Byron, let us not scare Reimeiko off.  She just got here.” Malachi replied. “We should show her the more fun side of living here.  I was going to take her on a tour of the palace.”

“Yes, I suppose that it would not do for Reimeiko to get lost or worse,” Byron gulped. “cause an international incident by walking into the wrong room. But the lessons--”

“Maybe while we are on the tour,” Malachi added. “You can talk about the royals of the past or something.  Teach while we are on the tour. I know that you can walk and talk at the same time.”

“I hope that you mean the distinguished history of the kingdoms.” Byron replied. “What do you say to a tour guide, Reimeiko?  Do you want to see all that the palace has to offer?”

“I would be delighted.” Reimeiko said. “I am a learning sponge.  I am ready for everything you wish to teach me.  Although, I know everything there is to know about all of the Universal Alliance kingdoms.”

“Yeah, totally radical.” Malachi gushed. “I do not even know where to start, but it does not matter since we are going to see everything.”

“Oh heaven help me.” Byron sighed. “Now the first stop is the dining room.  The Ruby dining room was built in the seventeen hundreds and is a display of the kingdom’s great wealth.  Everything you see here is made of the finest materials and by artisans at the top of their trade.  This room is most renowned for hosting the terms of the peace treaty between Thaddea and the as of yet burgeoning country of Armentaria.”

“Armentaria is well known for its overload of military might and the royal family’s brute force.” Reimeiko chimed. “The present queen Elisha is quite the stuck up little twerp, acting like she is higher and more powerful than anyone else around, but she is also arrogant, spoiled, self-centered, conceited, rude and very obnoxious.”

“You seem to speak from having experienced meeting her somewhere along the way in your life and travels.” Byron acknowledged.

“Unfortunately yes.” Reimeiko said. “I mean, granted, as young as she was at the time, she really had and has no idea how much bigger, stronger, and more powerful the Universal Alliance is compared to her fleet.  Her husband is a big blowhard who is all talk and no real action.  He talks a big game and can dish it out but he can never take it.  He is all big and bad when he is in the lead and is pushing people around, but if the tables get turned on him or someone calls his bluff and takes him down, he runs off like the hounds of hell are on his tail.”

“Wow. Now that is what I call calling them like you see them.” Malachi said gushing. “You really are the Princess of Thunderia and the leader of the Universal Alliance.”  

[sweetiepie08]

Rebel Z (Chapter 2)

Invader Zim fanfic

While analyzing Zim’s PAK for weaknesses, Tak discovers strange coding that sends her on a search for answers. The clues lead her to uncover a conspiracy that governs all of Irken society. When the truth sends her on the run, she has no choice but to return to the one place the Tallest would never willingly go: Urth.

Meanwhile, Dib has noticed odd changes in Zim’s behavior. Has the invader simply grown bored of his mission over the last few years, or is there something more interesting going on?

People who asked to be tagged: @incorrect-invader-zim , @messinwitheddie, @reblogstupids, @cate-r-gunn

If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list please let me know.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6.  Chapter 7. Chapter 8.  Chapter 9.  Chapter 10.

[-]

Fabulosa lay just outside of Irkan-controlled space. The planet served as the epicenter of the intergalactic fashion and textiles industry. Its natural vegetation could be spun into a wide variety of luxurious fabrics and the Fabulians learned long ago how to craft the finest garments in the known universe. This made Fabulain clothing highly sought-after and the citizens very wealthy. Naturally, it became a prime target for Irkan conquest.

They tired cycles ago but it stood as a rare marked failure on the Irkan military’s record. The Fabulains knew where their worth lay. When the Armada surrounded them, they threatened to burn their own fields and destroy the secrets of how to cultivate the fiber-producing plants… unless a deal could be struck. And so, the Fabulains and the Irkens signed a treaty which began a mutually-beneficial trade agreement.

Fashion and fibers didn’t interest Tak in the slightest. She was more concerned with what the planet could offer an Irkan on the run. It was outside of Irkan territory, but close enough that the civilization would be familiar. Its technology was advanced, it offered a variety of job opportunities, and the trade agreement allowed for a steady supply of Irkan snacks. It was the perfect place for a deserter to hide.

As she entered the planet’s atmosphere, Tak switched her holo-projector to her Vortian disguise. Lately, she used it more than any other. Irkens, she found, were not well liked by the rest of the universe and, if she was going to survive out here, she needed to build trust. She spent years accruing favors for seedy lifeforms and cashed most of them in when creating her PAK reading software. Skoodge’s favor she had no specific plans for but thought it would be good to keep in her back pocket just in case. It was about to come in handy.

She parked her ship in a public hanger for a massive shopping center and instructed MiMi to wait in there. She then headed straight for the store where her target worked. Sickeningly sweet Fabulain pop music assaulted her antenna the second she walked in the door. The peppy tones from high-pitched singers grated her with their manufactured joy. It was true, Irkens enjoyed sugar, but not like this.

“Hi, welcome to Glitz N’Nat,” a familiar voice chirped beside her.

She turned to see an unusually portly Vortian employee smiling at her.

“My name is Shickil. Is there anything I can help…” his eyes scanned her up and down, “you…” a look of recognition came to his face, “with…?”

“Yes actually,” she said, reaching into a rack. The Vortian gulped. “Do you have any more of these in the back?” She pulled out a random garment. It happened to be a glaringly bright green number with orange feathers framing the neckline. It would figure she’d pull out the ugliest thing in the store.

“There’s a whole bunch right there,” he said, pointing to the rack.

“But not in my size.”

“Actually, that one looks like it would fit.”

She glanced at the garment in his hand. Damn it. It might fit. Her eye twitched. “Maybe you could use some help checking.” She grabbed the employee’s arm and dragged him to the back of the store.

“Hey Tiff,” he called to his Fabulain coworker.

The female specimen flipped her white hair and looked up from the cash register. Her black eyes followed them as they made their way to the storage room.

“I’m going to help this customer in the back real quick, okay?” the Voritan finished.

Tiff giggled and waved a bubblegum pink hand at them. “Okay, have fun with your girlfriend.”

Tak’s insides clenched and she scowled at the Fabulain. Where did that lollipop-head get off mocking her? She had enough on her plate without lower lifeforms ridiculing her about her nonexistent mating practices. Then again, it was better than the time that Urth monkey child implied she was Zim’s mate of all people.

She tossed the Vortian into the storage room and threw the universe’s ugliest dress aside. Once she had the door closed and locked, the two of them disabled their disguises. “What’s this about, Tak?” Skoodge asked, sounding defeated already.

“First of all, why’d that brainless retail drone out there call me your girlfriend?” she demanded, jabbing her thumb at the door.

“Hey, Tiff’s nice,” Skoodge argued. Odd, he never had a backbone before. “Anyway, last time you were here, they asked me who you were and I panicked. Plus, the girls keep trying to set me up with other Vortians and I needed a way to get them off my back.”

“The girls?”

“Yeah, my coworkers.” His face lit up. “Tiff, Brandy, Cheryl, Dionne… Cheryl actually invited me to her baby shower next week. I’m not sure what that entails, but I’m real excited to go.” His eager clasped hands and giant grin attested to his sincerity.

Tak’s eyes narrowed and a sly smile grew on her lips. Skoodge seemed very happy here indeed and it wouldn’t hurt to remind him who was responsible for that happiness. “Seems you’ve cultivated quite the social life here.”

“Yeah, the girls are great! They’re nice to me, we go out all the time, we have a weekly brunch date, and they don’t shoot you out of the airlock if you mess up.”

“Sounds perfect for you,” she agreed. “Of course, you only have this life thanks to the holo-clocking device I made for you.

Skoodge’s excitement quickly drained and he looked down at the device on his wrist. “Please tell me you’re not going to take it away.”

“No, of course not,” she said, putting on her gratingly sweet voice and patting him on the arm. “You can continue to stay here and live your happy little life, but you’ll recall, you promised me a favor when I gave it to you.”

He relaxed slightly. “Okay, what is it?”

“I need to have a look at your PAK.”

He gasped and his hands flew to his back. “What? My PAK? Why?”

“Listen,” she said, all sweetness dropped from her voice, “You know how Zim always seems to come out of every situation relatively unscathed, no matter how destructive?”

“Uh-huh…”

“Well, I wanted to know his secret, so I created a software that I could use to analyze his PAK for answers.”

Skoodge pulled back in shock. “You tampered with his PAK?”

“Analyzed.”

“I can’t believe you tampered with another Irkan’s PAK,” he went on, wringing his hands. “That’s a capital offence.”

“I didn’t tamper I analyzed,” she countered through gritted teeth. “There’s a big difference.”

“Is there?”

“There is. I didn’t change a thing about Zim. I only looked to see if there was anything off about him.”

“And?”

“Defective, obviously, but that’s not the weird part. While I was looking, I saw things that were… strange to say the least, things I didn’t know the PAK influenced. I analyzed my own PAK and saw the same things. I need to see yours to confirm.”

“Why mine?”

“Zim and I are both encoded with menial-level jobs,” she explained, “but you’re still encoded as an invader. I need to see if that encoding makes a difference.”

Skoodge bit his bottom lip and looked away. “I don’t know. I’m not really comfortable letting an admitted tamperer access my PAK.”

“Analyzed,” she corrected again with a hiss. Damn it, how many times? “And don’t forget, you owe me. Think you’d have this lovely, insipid little life without me? Think you’d get that invite to that baby shower as Irkan Invader Skoodge?”

His eyes dropped to the floor. “Fine, I’ll let you analyze my PAK, but you better promise not to change anything.”

“I promise, now come with me. I’ll run the program from my ship. It’s not as powerful as Zim’s base, but I chose some key elements to look at for comparison.”

“We can go out the back, just give me a minute,” Skoodge said, reactivating his disguise. “I need to ask Tiff to cover for me.”

Tak reactivated hers as well and Skoodge went back out onto the shop’s floor. She watched as he talked with his coworker. The two parted with a laugh. “And watch out for flying shoes,” Tiff called as he walked away.

“I will,” Skoodge laughed.

Tak raised an eyelid. “Flying shoes?”

“It’s just an inside joke,” Skoodge replied, the pride in his voice betraying the fact that he’d never been on the inside of any joke before.

Oh and you have? It was true, she never spent much time socializing in her training days. There were more important things to worry about. She was a little busy making herself the best of the best. And what a lot of good that did you, right? Whatever, it was Zim’s fault she never took her rightful place in the Irkan military. If it weren’t for Zim, all that hard work would have paid off. Would it, Defective?

“Can we get this over with, please?” Tak growled. The sooner she figured out what was going on with the PAKs, the sooner she could get back to crushing Zim.

She led Skoodge to her ship in the parking hanger. Once inside, she activated the opaque tinting of the windows, deactivated her disguise, and fired up her computer. “Okay, all I’m going to do is plug into your PAK and read your stats. Got it?”

Skoodge deactivate his disguise as well. “Okay…” he said, still sounding apprehensive.

Tak rolled her eyes and plugged in his PAK. Once in, she saw Skoodge’s ID page come up on her screen.

Name: Skoodge

Age: 16.6

Occupation: Invader

Assignment: Pending

“Hmm…” Her eyes lingered on the “assignment” line. “They never reassigned you after Blorch?”

Skoodge sighed and looked at the ground. “No…”

That was interesting. Typically, after an invader completed their mission, they’d either be assigned to a new planet after a period of rest or rewarded with a cushy retirement. Given Skoodge’s youth, he should have been sent out again. She didn’t need to look further than the expanse of space above his head to guess why he wasn’t.

She pressed on. Unfortunately, her ship’s computer wasn’t powerful enough to run a full error check, but it could take a look at his personality drive. More specifically, she wanted to see the PAK installations and the Irkan traits.

Pak Installations

·        Perseverance: 20/20

·        Loyalty: 5/15

·        Penchant for Destruction: 10/15

·        Susceptibility to Propaganda: 5/15

So, Skoodge’s stats were also out of balance, not quite as bad as Zim’s (or mine), but was this enough to mark him as defective? She swiped over to his Irkan traits.

Irkan Traits

·        Creativity: 10/10

·        Personal ambition: 5/5

·        Need for companionship: 523/0

·        Need for affection: 443/0

·        Sense of individuality: 231/0

·        Individual survival instinct: 4803/10

That confirmed it. Another defective. Interesting. As an invader, his ideal levels may be higher than most, but they still didn’t match up with his actual levels. What were the odds that all three PAKs were defective? Could it be possible that most, if not all PAKs were defective to some degree? No, she couldn’t generalize yet. She only analyzed a small sample size and all three PAKs belonged to Irkans living outside normal society. It was much more likely that defectives tended to live outside the norm and were therefore easier for her to contact. If she wanted definitive answers, she’d need more information, but she couldn’t just go find more Irkens and start analyzing their PAKs. At the very least it’d raise suspicion. At worst, they’d assume treason was afoot. She needed to find another way.

“So? What’d you see?”

Oh right, Skoodge. She nearly forgot he was there. “Well, it looks like you’re defective.”

“What? No!” He jumped toward the screen. “How can this be?”

“My ship isn’t powerful enough for a full diagnostic, but your levels are out of balance,” she explained. “From what I can tell, that’s a sure sign of defectiveness.”

“But I conquered Blorch,” he went on. His hysterical voice was grating on her nerves. “I was the first to complete my mission in Operation Impending Doom 2. How can I-”

“Calm down. At least you’re not as defective as Zim and-” She stopped herself quick. “Anyway, I’m starting to wonder what being a defective really means.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, look at some of this stuff,” she said, gesturing toward the screen. “A functioning PAK will block natural Irkan assets.”

“Not really, I’ve still got some ambition, some creativity…”

“Because you’re an invader. It changes with encoding. A PAK with a low-class encoding has most of these set to 0. It doesn’t make sense. If we are the superior race, why block what makes us superior?”

“Well, I guess an invader would need certain traits to do our jobs…”

“But why just invaders?” she argued. “Why not allow all Irkens access to their natural traits?”

He thought for a moment. “You checked your PAK, right?”

“Yes…”

“So, what did yours say?”

Her lips tightened into a scowl. “We’re getting off the subject. Here, look at your stats,” she said, turning his attention back to the numbers on the screen. “Your survival instinct is much higher than it’s meant to be. That probably kept you alive on Blorch. And your need for companionship drives your desire to socialize. Thanks to that defect, you’ve got your little group of friends here. Would you trade them for a fully functioning PAK?”

“No!” he gasped, looking more devastated than he did when she told him he was defective.

“That’s my point. If defects can bring positive results, are they really defects?”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” he agreed.

There’s something else wrong here, but what? Skoodge, by all accounts should be a war hero. He conquered his planet in less than 0.1 cycles; a record time as far as invasions went. And yet, he was a defective. Did his defects give him the advantage? If that were the case, perhaps her defects helped her rise to the top of her training class. It would make sense. Her supposed defects included having “too much” ambition and “too much” perseverance. Those are the traits that pushed her to excellence.  Surely, they could not be mistakes.

“What about Zim?”

Skoodge’s question broke her from her musings. “What about him?”

“You said he’s defective. If you think defects aren’t that bad…”

“He’s still a walking catastrophe!” she snapped. “I never said all defects were a good thing, just in some cases.”

This did raise an interesting point. Zim, also a defective, without a doubt brought disaster with his every move. Maybe the concept of a defective wasn’t the problem, but how it was measured. Perhaps there was even an issue with the encoding process all together.

She needed to research this future, but she had no idea how. Knowledge on PAK programing was off limits to all but those encoded as PAK maintenance specialists. Even if this information was widely available, she couldn’t show her face in Irkan-controlled space any time soon. Abandoning her post was essentially self-imposed exile. If she didn’t return with a victory that would impress the Tallest, she couldn’t go back at all.

Perhaps solving this mystery could earn her enough glory to pardon her desertion charges and raise her to a rank more worthy of her skills. She could start by researching the history of the PAK, but how?

“So, uh, what’d you go all quiet for?” Skoodge asked, breaking her thoughts once again.

“I was just thinking, where, outside of Irkan territory, I could I go to research PAKs?”

“You could try Refirencee,” Skoodge suggested.

“Where?”

“It’s an info-database planet near Meekrob,” he explained. “They gather the histories and knowledge of all known planets and compile them in one place.”

“Sounds like an obvious target for conquest.”

“Yeah, but it’s under Meekrobian protection, so the plan was to wait until Tenn took Meekrob, then take all the data in the spoils.”

“Hmm…” It was a start at least, though it was suicide for any Irkan to get anywhere near Meekrob these days. Her Vortion disguise and ship should give her enough cover to pass through without suspicion. It worked well enough so far. “Do you know the coordinates for this planet?”

“No, but your ship could have it’s coordinates in its data base. This is a Vortian vessel, after all. The Meekrob only hide the planet from Irkens. Everyone else is free to use it.”

Excellent, a better lead than she expected. “I think we’re done here, Skoodge,” she said, disconnecting his PAK. This favor paid off in spades. “Go, enjoy your baby shower.”

“Thanks.” They reactivated their disguises and Skoodge hopped out of the ship. “And, uh, if you’re ever around, feel free to say hi.”

Tak looked up, the invitation catching her off-guard. “Oh, uh, sure…”

“Bye,” Skoodge gave a little wave and headed back to his job. MiMi returned with a wave of her own.

Tak turned back to her computer. After a quick check for the closest fueling station, she ran a search for the Refirencee coordinates. The search was a success. A holographic diagram of the planet shown from the computer’s projectors.

“Well, MiMi,” she said, smiling at the projection, “it’s time we got some answers.”