#Morning Cup of Java

[blueeyesfilledwithpassion]

Coffee ☕️

May Your Coffee Be Stronger Than The Day. 😎☕️

[thethinkingman]

#coffee #java #mugs #novelty #gifts #thelittlethings #mornings #truckstop #iowa #iowa80 #travel #trucker #truckerslife #cdl #cdllife #bluecollar

[alwaysamaritimer]

(via GIPHY) Coffee Time! <3

[redrose10]

Here is the first part! There will end up being a second chapter.

CEO Yoongi x Female Barista/College Student Reader

Title: Cold Brewed Love

Summary: When you begged the owner of Jin’s Java House to hire more employees you didn’t mean for him to stick you with the cold, rude, arrogant CEO Min Yoongi. Over time something begins to brew between you both and you end up forced to make decisions way above the pay grade of a cafe barista.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, hints of smut(nothing explicit), Yoongi is mean but we all know he’ll turn fluffy later, violence, kidnapping, mention of a gun

Word Count: 6,934

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You walked into work today at Jin’s Java House filled with dread at the situation. Lately things had been a nightmare there and you definitely didn’t get paid enough to put up with it. The only reason you hadn’t quit like everyone else was because the owner Jin was very flexible with your schedule and would accommodate your college schedule around your shifts, plus he let you have unlimited free coffee and snacks any time you wanted which really helped your already small bank account.

Your plan was to only work here a few months until something better came along, but now here you were two years later still at the same position as a barista at a coffee shop in the lobby of the largest office building in your city. It got your bills paid and you figured once you graduated college soon you could move on elsewhere.

After you clocked in Jin asked you to meet him in the office so you followed along hoping for good news.

“Y/N this is Jungkook. He’s the new employee I was telling you about. Please make sure he gets up and running before you move to the evening shift.”, he said before walking away to answer a phone call.

“Hi”, Jungkook nervously smiled.

“Hi”, you smiled back, “So the easiest thing to learn would be the register so we will start there.”, you said motioning for him to follow.

Thankfully he was a pretty fast learner. After just about an hour of you showing him the register he was already taking some orders by himself which you were very grateful for and thought maybe things were finally starting to look up.

After the morning rush you were just mindlessly wiping down the counter when Jungkook walked over to you.

“Who is that?”, he asked almost in awe.

You rolled your eyes after quickly recognizing the man walking by in his perfectly tailored suit and slicked back hair with a piece that fell perfectly against his forehead, “That’s Min Yoongi. He’s the CEO of MYG INC.”

“Wow he’s beautiful.”, Jungkook whispered.

You chuckled, “Yeah unfortunately his personality doesn’t match his appearance.”

You braced yourself for a fight with him, but thankfully it seemed like Yoongi was going to pass on the coffee today and headed straight for the elevators instead.

“I take it you’ve had some bad experiences with him?”, Jungkook asked.

“Yeah you could say that”.

You and Yoongi have a difficult history. You are about the same age, but he runs a successful billion dollar company while you make coffee for barely above minimum wage and also take classes at the local college which makes you feel intimidated by him and maybe even a little jealous. And he knows that.

His order was the first one you had ever made. Not only were you nervous because it was your first time, but he was also one of the most handsome men you had ever seen and you developed almost an instant crush on him. You were so nervous in fact that you dropped his cup of coffee making it spill all over the counter and right onto his expensive leather shoes. He was quick to reprimand you to the point his assistant Hoseok stepped in and pulled him away from the counter while giving you an apologetic smile. Hoseok returned later that day to apologize for his boss’ actions and offered to buy you lunch from the neighboring Thai restaurant.

Then just a few months later you had been asked by Jin to take up several cases of pastries to Yoongi’s office for some big meeting they were having. After you placed everything in the break room you quickly moved trying to hurry back down to the cafe to help out your co-worker who was working alone during the breakfast rush in your absence when in your haste you turned and ran right into Yoongi causing the stack of documents he was holding to fly everywhere through the office. He had a scowl and some choice words for you once again while you crawled around on your hands and knees trying to reorganize the mess and not cry in front of him. Hoseok was quick to save you then too and that’s how your friendship with ‘Hobi’ started.

Ever since that day though, Yoongi was always rude to you while ordering his coffee. He purposely got your name wrong even though it was right on your name tag. He hardly ever looked up from his phone and if he did it was only to look down on you and try to make you feel small. You hated him. But you hated it even more that no matter how much you hated him you couldn’t abolish the little crush you had on him. He was easily one of, if not your least favorite customer to deal with and you couldn’t ever see that changing.

A few weeks go by and thankfully Jungkook was getting faster and faster, but at the end of the day he was still on the newer side. Jin hired two more people, Jimin and Taehyung but they weren’t going to be starting for another week. Taehyung was going to work mornings with Jungkook and Jimin was going to work the evening shift with you. Today was your last morning shift because your classes started in a couple days so you begged Jin for a few days off to relax and reset which he approved after convincing his sister to come help out at the cafe for a few days.

Jungkook was manning the register as usual since he was much more of people person than you were while you worked away at making the orders.

It was a particularly busy day, worse than usual. There was a huge conference being held in one of the offices bringing in lots of out of town customers as well as your regulars. Jungkook was doing his best to take orders on his own leaving you to have to do all of the prep and stocking as well as make everything ordered.

You stared out at the sea of people letting out a sigh before returning back to the drink you were working on.

You were making a particularly difficult drink when Jungkook nervously stepped up next to you. “Y/N there is a customer at the register that wants to speak to the manager.”, he whispered.

You technically weren’t a manager, but you were the closest there was so you made a mental note to talk to Jin about a promotion and a raise before taking a deep breath to steady your nerves.

“Please hand this drink to order 613. I’ll handle the complaint.”, you said before grabbing a few free drink coupons as an apology.

Stepping up to the counter you felt your stomach twist at the sight. This wasn’t going to be any normal complaint. Not only did you have to apologize for something out of your control, but you had to apologize to your least favorite customer, Mr. Min Yoongi.

He didn’t even give you a chance to speak before he started, “The wait time is ridiculous. There is no reason that it should take nearly twenty-five minutes in line to get a mediocre cup of coffee.”

“I know Sir. I apologize. It��s just Jungkook and I and he’s still pretty new. We’re trying our best.”

“Clearly your best is not good enough. I don’t know how you can get any lower than a measly coffee maker, but maybe you should try something else.”

“Again I apologize Sir. Here are some coupons for free drinks and I’ll make sure to speak with the owner about improving our processes.”, you said still trying to be professional.

He scoffed, “Do I look like I need coupons for a free drink?“

“No, but there is not much else I can offer you. I apologize for the long wait, but as I said we’re trying our best.”

“Do better because this is unacceptable.”, he spat before leaving his coffee and walking way.

At that point the wall you built up crumbled and tears began to fall freely.

“Hey go in the back and take a few. I’ll be okay.”, Jungkook said.

“No it’s okay. I have to make the orders.”

“Y/N, go. I’ll be okay. I’ll make some of the drinks that I know and then ones I don’t I’ll just wing it. I mean they can’t get any more upset than they already are so what’s a wrong drink going to do.”, he chuckled.

You nodded and walked to the back for a few minutes.

You couldn’t believe the audacity of Yoongi. Like sure the wait times were terrible, but it’s not like he couldn’t afford to just order coffee from somewhere else or send Hobi to get it. You felt like he purposely just wanted to ruin your day and that hurt more than it should have.

After taking a small break you returned to the front thankful that Jungkook had everything taken care of. It seemed like most of the line left after Yoongi’s spectacle and you walking away so there were only a few people left.

“See I told you I could handle it.”, Jungkook smiled as he was clearly making the wrong drink, but judging by the puppy dog eyes the girl at the counter was giving him you didn’t think she’d really care anyways.

“Thank you Kookie. That break really helped.”, you said giving his arm a squeeze.

When your shift finally ended you said goodbye to Jungkook and left for home. Exhausted you plopped down on your couch taking out your phone.

You: Is your boss PMSing or something? He was an even bigger jerk than normal today.

Hobi: Ohhh that’s probably what he was mumbling about when he got in.

You: What?

Hobi: Nothing, it’s nothing. Yeah sorry about him. He’s trying to close this really important deal or something. He always gets like this when he’s working on that. Plus I think his parents are on his case about something.

You: Well he should learn to keep his emotions to himself before he really hurts someone.

Hobi: I thought you said he was an emotionless robot…

You: 😑

Your mini vacation was much needed especially after your latest Yoongi encounter, but it went by way too fast for your liking. Classes started up again and they were already kicking your ass. You moved to the evening shift at work which was a nice change of pace. It was a little slower than the mornings and although you missed Jungkook you were getting along great with Jimin.

Earlier today Jin had texted you to let you know a new employee would be starting at night. He didn’t give you much info other than he’d only be working part time and you were oddly warned not to have sex in the office because this guy was apparently super hot. You were just excited to get another worker so maybe you could eventually reduce your hours a little and take some of the stress off so you weren’t going to complain.

Your shift was going by extremely slow so you had your back to the counter as you wiped down one of the old machines trying to accomplish something for the day. From behind you someone cleared their throat making you jump a little.

“Hi welcome to Jin’s Java House how can I help you today?”

You stopped in your tracks feeling your heart speed up, “M-Mr.Min?”, you asked.

He rolled his eyes before grabbing an apron from the rack.

“Uh Mr. Min?”, you questioned.

He looked more pissed off than ever.

“Y/N”, he said finally looking at your name tag, “I guess I am your new coworker for the next several weeks. Maybe I’ll be able to to come up with a better system to solve the slow service around here.”

“Umm uh sir? W-what do you mean coworker?”

He rolled his eyes again, “Obviously I mean we are working together.”

“I know what a coworker is. My question is why is a successful billionaire ceo working at a coffee shop for minimum wage?”

“Because my lovely parents think I need to learn some humility and how to talk to people other than just demanding things. They said I do this or they’re removing me from the company so I have no choice.”, he said picking at some lint on his shirt.

“So I’m working here for a little. I figured if anyone knows some humbleness it’s a nobody coffee maker.”

Being the reliable hard worker you are you sucked it up, “Okay sir. The easiest thing is to learn the register first.”

He followed you over to where the computer was located.

“Okay so this row is the specials. This row is basic coffees. Then when you select a coffee it asks if you want to add any thing. That’s where you’ll find the flavorings and toppings. This row is cold drinks. This row is baked goods.”

You noticed he was very quiet so when you looked up you weren’t surprised to see him staring at some blond in a very short pencil skirt sitting at one of the cafe tables. It did make you feel a sting of jealousy, but you quickly shook that away.

“Are you even listening?”, you questioned.

“Y/N, I run a billion dollar company. I think I can figure out a few buttons on a computer screen at a coffee shop.”, he smirked.

“Okay, here’s your first customer.”, you smiled as Mrs. Kang walked up to the counter. She was a familiar regular who was notoriously difficult and you couldn’t wait to watch Yoongi crash and burn.

“Hi, welcome to Jin’s Java House, how can I help you?”, he greeted her as cocky as ever.

“Sure can I get a medium coffee with two pumps of hazelnut, half a pump of vanilla but make sure it’s only half a pump. Last time they definitely put too much. I want the coffee fresh brewed but a mix of the house blend and the cinnamon nut. Then also add a caramel swirl and use half oat milk half almond milk that is warmed up so it doesn’t cool the coffee too much. I also want a banana nut muffin on the side but warm it up also.”

You felt a deep sense of happiness as you watched Yoongi’s fingers hover over the buttons unsure of how to complete the order. Reluctantly he looked at you for assistance.

You showed him how to type in the order while Jimin got to work making it.

That was definitely a humbling experience for Yoongi who was much more open to help after that.

The following few weeks flew by between your classes and shifts at the coffee shop. You and Yoongi were working surprisingly well together. He was actually a decent worker and wasn’t as insufferable to be around.

“Y/N please stop calling me Sir.”, he said one evening.

“I’m sorry it’s just a habit.”

“Well please just call me Yoongi. Sir is reserved for other things.”, he smirked.

You quickly turned away hoping to hide your blushing cheeks from him.

He even apologized for always treating you so coldly, especially that one day he made you run in the back and cry. He chuckled saying Hobi heard him ranting about how much of an idiot he was. He said he came down later in the day to apologize, but you were already gone and he said it bothered him ever since. There was a small shift in your relationship after that.

He had texted you earlier today to let you know that he was going out and wouldn’t be working tonight which kind of made you feel a little as as you had grown to look forward to working with him.

“I strive to be like him one day. Rich, successful, good looking, always having a hot woman on my arm.”, Jimin sighed.

You spun around just in time to see Yoongi walking through the lobby towards the door with the pencil skirt blonde tightly clinging to his arm as he licked his lips while looking down at her.

You don’t know what you expected when he said he was going out or why that sight made your chest tighten, but you quickly returned to portioning out coffee beans so Jimin wouldn’t see your eyes watering.

Maybe you were naive or just had too much wishful thinking, but you had really thought that maybe there was a small chance Yoongi was starting to like you too. You noticed his gaze lingering a little longer than it used it. How he’d “accidentally” bump into you or brush his fingers against your skin. How he started showing up a little earlier every shift and would immediately make his way over to you. But apparently it was all in your head. The more you thought about it the more you felt silly for thinking someone like him could ever be interested in someone like you. So you spent the rest of the shift trying to keep your thoughts away from what Yoongi was up to.

After last night you were thankful it was Saturday because Yoongi never worked weekends which meant you could avoid him for a couple days.

Unfortunately for you, luck was not on your side because when you arrived for your shift Yoongi was already behind the counter.

You faked a smile as you rounded the counter to grab your apron with Yoongi following behind with a red drink in his hands.

“I got you a smoothie from that health place down the street.”

You looked at him confused.

“I just thought you might be sick of coffee.”, he said feeling self conscious all of a sudden for some reason.

“Oh thank you. I’m sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you to be working today.”, you said taking the drink from him.

Shyly he scratched the back of his neck, “Oh yeah I figured since I couldn’t work yesterday I’d pick up a few hours tonight.”

You nodded before clocking in and heading over to wipe down the already clean counter just to avoid him. Being around him made you feel so confused and conflicted and you didn’t have it in you to deal with that right now.

“How was your date last night? She was hot. I bet you had a good time with her.”, Jimin smirked as he handed Yoongi a cup to fill.

You happened to look up noticing Yoongi quickly turn away from you, but you didn’t miss the slight blush on his cheeks.

He turned back to Jimin, “Yeah she was alright.”

“You gonna see her again? Does she have any single friends or maybe a hot older sister?”

You rolled your eyes before walking away not really wanting to hear Yoongi’s answer anyways.

As days went on you got over Yoongi and the pencil skirt incident until it was Friday and yet again Yoongi texted you that he couldn’t work because he would be going out.

Before he left the office he stopped over at the coffee shop.

As much as you wanted to you couldn’t stop staring. He looked good. His suit jacket was thrown over his shoulder. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up giving you a great view of his hands and forearms that you weirdly loved. His hair was messily styled after the gel gave out from hours of work. As he walked up to the counter you were hit with the scent of his cologne, a comforting cinnamon and vanilla that made you think of eating Christmas cookies by the fire place.

“I thought you were going out?”, you asked sounding more hurt than you wanted.

“Meeting that hot blonde again?”, Jimin asked wiggling his eyebrows.

Yoongi chuckled, “No not tonight. I’m just meeting my parents for dinner at that new sushi place everyone’s talking about. I thought I’d stop by and see if either of you wanted me to bring you something back for dinner.”

Your heart felt warmed that the once cold CEO was now going out of the way to see if you wanted food and you also selfishly felt joy at the fact that he wasn’t meeting that woman again tonight.

“Oh my god yes! I’m starving!”, Jimin excitedly exclaimed making you and Yoongi laugh. As you watched Yoongi write down Jimins order someone walked up to the counter and cleared their throat. Expecting a customer you were happily surprised to see Jungkook.

“Kookie!!”, you shouted jogging around the corner and into his arms missing the scowl that crossed Yoongi’s face.

“What are you doing here? I feel like I haven’t seen you in months.”

“I was in the area and thought I’d stop by to get a coffee and say hi.”

As you walked over to the register to ring in an employee drink Yoongi leaned forward over the counter motioning for Jimin to do the same.

“Who is that?”, Yoongi whispered.

“Ummm that is Jungkook. He works on the morning shift. Haven’t you seen him before?”

Now that Jimin mentioned it he did remember seeing this kid working at the coffee shop. He didn’t like him back then and he really didn’t like him now watching him as he flexed his muscles in a tight black tshirt while you excitedly told him about the paper you were writing for your philosophy class. Yoongi wondered if maybe he should start going to the gym more. He also felt a bit of jealousy watching you so easily talk to Jungkook. You always acted so scared of him which he knew was mostly his own fault, but still. He wished you could freely talk about your life with him or that you would act that excited when he walked in. He also wished Jimin would stop bringing up that woman. He didn’t even remember her name. He had zero real interest in her and just wanted to have a distraction to try and stop his growing crush for you because he knew at the of the day you deserved better than him. But then he saw the look on your face as he walked out of the office building with her that night and he couldn’t take it. He gave the woman some money to buy dinner as an apology and also keep her quiet and went home by himself wishing he was as work with you instead.

And now here you were flirting with this Kookie guy right in front of him.

“Hello earth to Yoongi.”, Jimin said waving his hands in his face.

“Sorry what was that?”

“I changed my mind. I want a rainbow roll instead of the eel roll.”

“Oh yeah sure. Whatever you want.”, he said going to write that down when he saw it. You using your fingers to trace over Jungkook’s new tattoo as he conveniently flexed his bicep at the same time and that was it.

Yoongi never thought of himself as a jealous man because if one woman broke his heart he could have another replacing her that same night, but there was something different about you. And watching this all unfold made him turn green with envy.

He took out his wallet and handed Jimin a card, “Here take my card and go order whatever you want. Get something for Y/N too. I’ll cover your shift while you’re gone.”

Jimin looked at the shiny black card and wasn’t about to question him so he happily threw his apron down on the counter before sprinting for the door.

Yoongi picked up the apron putting it on trying to cover as much of his outfit as he could regretting not bringing a change of clothes since Gucci and coffee didn’t really mix.

As he walked around the counter you looked at him stunned, “What are you doing? I thought you had to meet your parents? And where is Jimin?”

Yoongi finished washing his hands before he walked back over to you, “I gave Jimin my card and told him to go get us dinner. Seemed like he needed a break. My parents will understand. I mean, me working here was their idea to begin with.”

“Oh okay.”, you replied still suspicious but there wasn’t anything you could do anyways.

Jungkook was quick to sense the tension in the air so he gave you both a goodbye before grabbing his drink and practically jogging out of the building.

“So uh how are your um classes going? What’s your major again?”, he nervously asked.

“Oh they’re alright. Lots of work.”, you chuckled, “My major is in marketing with a minor in communications.”

“Wow that’s pretty amazing. You must have big plans for once you graduate.”

“Yeah I guess. Maybe I’ll work for one of your rivals one day.”, you joked getting a laugh out of him.

Jimin seemed to be taking his time getting dinner which left you and Yoongi alone with each other until a familiar face showed up at the counter.

“Hey Namjoon, what are you doing here?”, you asked.

“Hi Y/N, I’m checking out the new art exhibit up the street and thought I’d grab a coffee first. I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Yeah have to get myself through college somehow.”

“Hey a jobs a job. Did you get your results back from Mrs. Cho’s class? That test kicked my ass.”

You giggled, “Yeah tell me about it. I studied for days and still barely squeaked by.”

Yoongi watched the scene unfold before him. “What is going on around here tonight?”, he thought to himself. You flirting with a tall handsome guy with cute dimples who was smart and artistic and friendly and Yoongi felt his blood boil again as he watched him flirt right back. He knew he couldn’t take much more of this.

As soon as Namjoon said goodbye he walked up next to you.

“Maybe we should call Jimin. Knowing him he’s probably going on a shopping spree with your card right now.”, you laughed turning to look at Yoongi.

He stood in front of you not saying anything. His hands were sweating and he felt like he was going to throw up. He leads very important meetings with some of the most powerful people in the world with ease. He’s had to fire people two days before Christmas and didn’t think twice about it. He’s faced his parents and told them off like he had a death wish but it didn’t phase him. But standing here in front of you was the most nervous he had ever been.

“Will you go out with me?”, he blurted out unsure of where this sudden confidence boost came from.

“I’m sorry what?”, you questioned.

“Y/N, will you please go out with me?”

“Like on a date??”

“Yes…like on a date…with me…Min Yoongi…and you…”

Internally you swooned seeing how nervous and flustered he was, but you did your best to remain cool on the outside.

“Yes, I would like to go on a date with you…Min Yoongi.”

You nervously paced around your bedroom that was littered with different dresses and skirts and shoes. Sure you had been on dates before but never with enemy turned lovers that were also successful billionaire ceos.

“Seriously, Yoongi isn’t going to care what you wear. He doesn’t worry about stuff like that.”, Hobi chuckled from where he was laid out on your bed snacking on some of your chips.

“Yeah well I’ve seen the women he’s left the office with over the years and I beg to differ.”

“Yeah and 99% of those women were one night stands that he just used to get his dick wet. Y/N trust me. He likes you more than that.”

“Really?”, you questioned.

Hobi nodded, “He’s been a nervous wreck all week. I swear I’ve had to cancel fifteen different reservations because he never thought the restaurant was good enough. He’s called every florist in the city looking for a bouquet that he felt was pretty enough for you. And you didn’t hear this from me and I’ll throw you right under the bus if you say you did, but he even had Jimin come up to our office yesterday and I heard Yoongi asking him for romance tips.”

“Whaaattt?”, you stated in shock.

“Mmhmm yes ma’am. I know it’s hard to believe, but Yoongi doesn’t usually do romance. He’s more of a fuck ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy. So he is really trying to impress you.”

You knew Hobi was trying to help, but now you were even more nervous than before.

After settling on a simple black dress with your “comfy” heels Hobi left you with a hug and made you promise to text him afterwards so he could get all the details.

Yoongi was exactly on time as he nervously handed you a beautiful bouquet of red, white, and pink roses.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”, you smiled quickly placing them in a vase of water.

Offering you his hand he lead you out to a waiting car that quickly sped off to your destination after you were settled in.

“You look very nice tonight Y/N.”, he blushed.

“You looking really nice yourself.”, you added. And he did. He was dressed down from his usual business suit, but somehow still dressed up for the date. He wore perfectly tailored black dress pants and a slim fitting black dress shirt tucked in with the sleeves rolled up just like you liked. He had a few dainty bracelets and some earrings on to accessorize the look which was finished off with his hair lightly styled. His cologne was intoxicating like something you’d never smelled before. Masculine but yet soft and gentle much like the person who was wearing it. He looked incredible and it took everything in you not to beg him to take you in the back of the car right then.

The restaurant, of course, was fancy and expensive and you would have never even set foot in it if it wasn’t for Yoongi.

“I hope this okay. Now that I think about it should’ve asked you where you wanted to go. I’m sorry. We can go somewhere else if you would like. I don’t know if you even like steak.”, he ranted after noticing you staring in awe.

You shook your head, “Yoongi this is great. Everything looks so good. I can’t decide what to get.”

“Well order whatever you want.”, he smiled trying to relax a little.

Dinner went smoothly. The food and drinks were good. Yoongi was a great conversationist once he got rid of some of his nerves. You had a great time and when he walked you back up to your apartment you felt a sense of nervousness about what the next move should be.

As you awkwardly stood in front of your door you could feel the tension between you both until Yoongi broke it and chuckled, “I’m sorry I’m kind of new at all of this. I don’t usually take women on actual dates.”

You laughed along with him, “That’s okay. Just do what feels right to you.”

Taking a step forward he placed his hands on your hips, “Right now it feels right to kiss you.”

“Then do it.”, You replied trying to hide the quiver in your voice.

A simple kiss turned into another turned into hands wandering and undoing belts and removing clothes until you were both naked under the covers of your bed entangled with one another.

When you woke up the following morning with Yoongi’s naked chest pressed closely against your bare back and his arms still tightly wrapped around your waist you felt the most content you had in a long time. A feeling you didn’t know was possible.

“How was your date with Yoongi last night?”, Jin questioned when you walked in for your Saturday evening shift. You looked around surprised. The only people that new about your date were Hobi and Jimin. You knew Hobi and Jin had never even met let alone talked so you through a glare in Jimin’s direction who put his hands up in defense as if to say he had nothing to do with it.

Jin continued, “It’s all over the internet. I knew the two of you would end up together. That’s why I said no office sex.”

In a panic you took out your phone and started searching. Sure enough the first headline you read was ‘MYG INC.’s Min Yoongi Finally Settling Down?’ Another one read ‘Who Is the Mystery Girl That Stole the Heart of One of the Worlds Most Wanted Bachelors’. Both were accompanied by photos of you and Yoongi at the restaurant, driving in his car, and even walking into your apartment building.

“What? I didn’t know we were even being followed.”, you whispered to yourself.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Must be a slow news day. It’ll be forgotten about by tomorrow.”, Jimin said while clocking in.

You pulled out your phone about to call Yoongi when you already heard his voice behind you.

He leaned on the counter giving you a sad smile.

“What are you doing here?”, you asked.

“I have some work stuff I need to get done so I thought I’d come into the office. I’m guessing you saw the news?”

You nodded, “Yeah I have.”

You noticed that Yoongi seemed uncomfortable maybe even worried about something.

He shook his head, “This is so fucked up. I didn’t think anyone would follow us. The last thing I wanted was for it to get out that I was dating you.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, “Are you embarrassed to be with me?”

Yoongi looked like he could cry. Frantically he reached over to grab your hand shaking his head, “God no Y/N. I would never be embarrassed to be with you. There’s just a lot of crazy people in this world you know and I just want to keep you safe. That’s all.”

Something about his words didn’t sit right with you, but in the moment you chose to let it go.

“I have to get upstairs, but call me at the end of your shift.”, he said leaning in for a kiss before deciding against it after noticing a customer walk up to the counter. Instead giving your hand a quick squeeze before walking to the elevators.

Before you knew it your shift was over. Taking out your phone and sitting down at one of the empty tables you called Yoongi who answered on the first ring like he had been waiting all day for your call.

“Hey baby, How was work?”

“Alright. Jimin tripped and fell face first into a piece of chocolate cake he was carrying which was pretty hysterical.”

Yoongi chuckled at that, “I wish I could’ve seen that. Where are you now?”

“Just sitting next to the cafe. I think I’m going to go home and get something to eat. What about you?”

“I have to have an emergency meeting in a few minutes with our partners in Japan. There was a big dip in profits in that market so we need to figure out a plan. Shouldn’t be too long though.”

“I know you’ll figure it out. Call me when you’re done with your meeting.”

“Hey uh Y/N, how about you go to my place instead?”

“Okay yeah that sounds good? I’ll just stop home and change and then head over.”

“No!…I uh…I mean why go out of your way? My place is just down the street from the office building. I’ll call the guards and let them know to let you in. I’ll text you the address and the entrance code. Just go in and shower, find something of mine to wear, get a snack if you want. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way and I’ll order us dinner.”

“Okkkkaaaay. I’ll see you later.”

“”Alright babe I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight.”

You hung up feeling very confused if not even concerned. You knew you would eventually go to his place, but you didn’t expect it to be so suddenly and with him being so pushy about it too.

“You hanging out with Yoongi tonight?”, Jimin asked taking a seat next to you.

“Uh yeah I guess so. He wants me to go straight to his place.”

“Wow he doesn’t waste any time does he? He’s a man who knows what he wants.”, Jimin chuckled.

You laughed with him, but then were smacked in the face with a sudden realization.

There was no way in hell you were going to let Yoongi, the guy you’ve been dating less than a day and also successful rich ceo, see you in your purple polka dot granny panties and mismatched sports bra. You hadn’t even washed your hair from last night and you definitely could already feel some stubble on your legs. None of this would bother you if you two had been together for a while but with the relationship being so new you still wanted to impresses him. Yoongi did say to head straight for his place, but you knew his “quick” meeting was probably to going to be a while so you could make it home, shower, and change into something nicer and then head to Yoongi’s and he’d never know and you were sure he’d appreciate it.

“Great work today Jimin! Gotta go.”, you said jumping up and running towards the door leaving Jimin behind looking dumbfounded.

Once in your bedroom you grabbed the white lace lingerie set that you thankfully decided to splurge on as a birthday gift to yourself a few months ago and started heading towards your bathroom when you felt someone grab you from behind.

For a minute you thought maybe Yoongi’s meeting really had been quick and he beat you home until an unfamiliar voice spoke, “Gotcha! Don’t fight or make this difficult. It’ll only make it worse for you.“

You tried your best to break free elbowing the guy in the throat and you managed to escape to the bathroom slamming shut and locking the door behind you.

You knew you should’ve called the police first, but at that moment there was only one person you could think about. Quickly you dialed Yoongi’s number, but it went straight to voicemail. He must still be in the meeting and had his phone shut off.

“Yoongi please help me.”, you screamed., “I went home. I’m sorry I know you said not to but I didn’t think anything would happen. There’s a man here. He broke in and he’s trying to kidnap me or something. I need you Yoongi.”Just as you hung up and we’re about to call the police there were now two men who busted through the bathroom door that was separating you from them.

“I told you not to make this difficult.”, the man from earlier spat as he picked you up by your wrists and began dragging you down the hallway. You tried to fight back but ultimately they overpowered you.

“For fucks sake I didn’t think that guy was ever going to shut up.”, Yoongi groaned with a stretch.

“Yeah that meeting took a lot longer than it should have. I’ll have the summary notes typed up and on your desk within an hour.”, Hoseok replied.

“No it can wait until Monday. Go home and relax.”, Yoongi said with a smile.

“Ahhh so not only does my best friend enjoy the benefits of boyfriend Yoongi but I also get them?”, he smirked.

“Go, before I change my mind.”

Hoseok laughed, but quickly exited the office knowing his boss really could change his mind.

Yoongi finally pulled out his phone noticing the missed call and voice email from you. He didn’t think much of it at first until the recording started playing and all the blood drained from his face. He felt like he could pass out.

He grabbed his keys and began sprinting through the office building out to the garage. He jumped in his car speeding off completely barreling through the security gate. He tried calling you over and over but there was no answer.

His car stopped in front of your apartment. Yoongi reached over into the glove box grabbing the loaded hand gun he had hidden there and thanked the stars he decided to drive himself to work today instead of having a driver pick him up like he usually would.

He ran up the six flights of stairs to your floor like they were nothing. The adrenaline running through his body made him feel like he’s was on a high and unstoppable.

Entering your apartment he drew his gun, but then immediately saw the clear signs that there had been a struggle. He checked every room, under the bed, in the closets. He screamed your name, but there was no answer.

He dropped down on the couch before running his hands over his face and groaning, “Fuck! I fucking knew something like this would happen.”

He stood up and walked to the door where right in front of his face was a note that was stabbed into the wall with a bloody knife,

“Min Yoongi, We told you not to fuck with us, but you didn’t listen. Now we have your girl and one of you is going to pay the price to make things right.”

[xiaojunsmintchoco]

Cold brew - Na Jaemin

pairing: barista!jaemin x barista!reader

genre: fluff, angst; enemies to lovers, coffee shop au

synopsis: at the coffee shop you work at, there's always this regular who comes and orders the same cup of cold brew coffee every morning without fail. you end up having a rather rude interaction with him one morning when you accidentally spill his coffee on him before his job interview – which turns out to be for the very same coffee shop you're working at. it doesn't matter to you that he got the job, but the fact that he's always on the same shift as you never fails to get on your nerves. Will the two of you sort out your feud, or will the both of you continue to brew these cold feelings towards each other? 

a/n: this is a very VERY long overdue fic for @hcsarchive ! i’m really really sorry for the long hiatus y’all, and for the decline in quality of writing and banner design :”) but to star, i genuinely hope you enjoy this fic that i churned up at 2 in the morning, and that your life will be filled with joy and many many good things! it’s been great having you as my friend, though we haven’t interacted much </3 I promise i’ll try to be more active here <3

"One venti cold brew for Na Jaemin!" you call, voice ringing out through the coffee shop amid the clinking of mugs and cutlery and cool jazz music playing in the background. As expected, a young man clad in a mint green hoodie and jeans rushes up to the counter. His soft, ebony-black bangs fall over his coffee-brown eyes as he claims his drink from you with a muffled "thanks" before scurrying off again, black backpack hanging from his back and laptop case in hand. 

"He came again?" Lia asks, popping a pastry into the oven and setting the timer.

You nod in response. “Na Jaemin. Here every morning, at the exact same time ordering the exact same thing”.

"Aren't many of our customers like this too?" Lia questions, uncertain as to why you suddenly brought up this particular customer. 

"Yeah, but they're not always here at the exact same time every day – sometimes they come a few minutes earlier or later. And even if they have regular orders, they sometimes order different things. This guy is here at 7 am on the dot every day without fail, and he always, always orders a venti size cold brew. I don't recall him having ordered anything different," you explain to Lia as the timer on the oven goes off, and you take the croissant out. 

"Wow, how are you so observant towards these details outside of his regular drink order? It's as if you're specifically keeping your eye out for his arrival. Are you?" Lia questions, raising her eyebrows at you.

"What the hell, no!" You hurriedly deny.  

"But he's your ideal type, is he not? Brown eyes, black hair, pretty cute," Lia replies with a smirk as she gets to preparing a latte, and in that moment you regret the day you'd spoken about your ideal types to each other. 

"I mean yes, but we don’t even know each other! We’ve barely exchanged any words apart from him mumbling his thanks to me when I pass him his drink,” you protest. 

“So? He comes here every day, you’ll sure have a chance to get to know him better,” Lia insists.

“One grande caffe latte for Kai!” you call out, placing the drink on the counter and flashing a smile at the customer, who says a “thank you”, picks up the drink and casually saunters off, in contrast to how Jaemin had practically flown out the door after collecting his order from you earlier. “I don’t know. Compared to all our other customers, he seems to be in a constant rush. He’s like the rabbit from Alice in Wonderland!”

Still, Lia remains adamant. “Trust me, if he’s your destined soulmate, there will be a way for you both to get to know each other. Really”.

You shrug, getting to work making a java chip frappuccino. “Nah, I don’t think he is. He’s probably just the eye candy who comes into our shop every morning for his daily cold brew”. 

Lia simply hums and turns around to take the next customer’s order, while a mild pang of longing settles in your heart. Yes, you knew he was really just eye candy to you, but a part of you wished that you’d at least be able to interact with him a little and get to know him as an acquaintance at least. 

»»————-　☕️　————-««

Your wish comes true the next day — or at least the first part of it. You finally get to properly interact with him, past the muffled “thank yous” he would give you whenever you passed him his cold brew every morning. 

But was it pleasant? 

Far from that. 

It’s about 2:30 pm in the afternoon, and the cafe is way more hectic than it should be at this time. Throngs of people flood the cafe, leaving all of the baristas overwhelmed, yourself included.

“I thought people drink morning coffee, not afternoon coffee!” Lia complains, practically sprinting to the other end of the counter, carrying a customer’s order on a black tray. “One blueberry muffin and one vanilla sweet cream cold brew for Shanice!” 

“I know right. Suddenly everyone’s ordering their coffee in the afternoon for some weird reason!” you exclaim, hurrying to save the pastries in the oven before they burned to a crisp. 

Your already-divided attention is briefly stolen by the sight of a familiar face coming in through the door — it’s none other than Na Jaemin. Weird, he already came in the morning, you think to yourself, already moving towards the cold brew machine out of instinct. You can’t help but notice he’s changed out of his usual hoodie and jeans into slacks, a white long-sleeved collared shirt and a blazer, more formal than the casual attire he normally dons, which leads you to think that he has something important on. As soon as you place the pastries on the counter, you head over to the register where Jaemin is to take his order. “Hi, what can I get for you?” you recite the standard phrase.

“One venti cold brew, please,” he states. 

“Alright, I’ll get that for you. Na Jaemin, right?” you ask, picking up a venti-size cup and a marker, scribbling the name on as he nods. 

You put some ice in the cup, and then stride over to where the brewed coffee is stored before dispensing enough to fill the cup. Just as you’re bringing it to the collection point, a voice calls for you. “Y/n! Hurry, there’s more orders!” one of your colleagues yells. 

“Okay, coming soon!” you reply back, calling out Jaemin’s name and order, passing the drink to him and preparing to hurry off. 

Only, you’d been too fast in handing the drink to him and had let go before his hands were properly around the cup, resulting in the cup falling from your hands and spilling coffee all over his shirt. Your jaw falls to the floor along with the cup as you watch his white shirt turn coffee-brown and prepare to offer multiple sincere apologies, maybe even offer to pay for his shirt to be cleaned. 

But before you can do that, he hits the roof. “Ugh! I have a job interview, you idiot! Why are you so careless?” he exclaims, clearly livid. Veins bulge out visibly from his forehead, a clear sign of his fury. Heads snap in your direction as the commotion distracts customers from whatever they were doing previously. 

Annoyance at how Jaemin had unnecessarily blown up at you, coupled with stress from the already overwhelming shift began to take over you, and you had to use every fiber in your being to maintain your professionalism and not hurl the best insult you could think of back at him. “Sir, I’m extremely sorry”. You murmur repeated apologies as you get several wet tissues for him. “I’ll be willing to pay for the cleaning costs, just let me know how much it costs when you next visit us”. 

Unfortunately, this doesn’t seem to appease Jaemin. “That’s not the point. I don’t have spare clothes, you know! Now I might not get my job!” Jaemin exclaims, eyes boring into you accusingly. Unsure of what to say, you remain silent, your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish’s. “Thanks a lot, I suppose,” he spits, making sure his sarcasm came across clearly. With that, he takes his half-empty drink cup and stalks off. 

Meanwhile, you’re left with a taste that's even more bitter than the cold brew in your mouth from the encounter. “Wow, that was pretty rude of him,” Lia comments, coming up beside you. “Maybe you should have ensured that he was actually holding the cup before letting go, but that was still out of line on his end”. 

You sigh, shaking your head and turning back to the cash register, preparing to serve the next customer. “Whatever. Let’s forget that this happened”. 

»»————-　☕️　————-««

A week has passed since the incident, and you’ve all but forgotten about it, the incident almost having been cleared from your memory completely.

Until you see a familiar face coming in at 2:30 pm — none other than Na Jaemin, the customer who’d yelled at you rather rudely that day when you’d made an honest mistake. “Lia? Can you take this next customer? I’d rather not interact with him again,” you whisper to your co-worker while glaring daggers at him. 

To your surprise, Lia shakes her head. “I don’t think he’s here to order, actually. I think he’s here for his first day on the job”. 

You narrow your eyes at her as a sense of foreboding comes over you. “What do you mean?”

“He’s our new barista, and he’ll be working here part-time. Did no one tell you?” Lia explains, wiping the counter top. “The job interview he mentioned last week — it was for a position here as a barista”. 

“No way. Please tell me you’re lying”. You feel your eyes grow to the size of the saucers in your hands. 

She shakes her head. “I’m being for real here”. 

You watch as your supervisor comes out to meet Jaemin and they exchange greetings, before she passes him a set of uniform and he heads to the restrooms. “Oh, my gosh”. Your hand comes up to your forehead, and your lips form a thin line as you feel your annoyance levels peak again. “No way I’m sharing shifts with this guy”. 

Lia shrugs. “Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think. Hopefully he forgot that it was you who spilled coffee on him last week,” she says while placing a hand on your shoulder, in an effort to appease you.

At that moment, your supervisor comes out of the store room with Jaemin in tow and approaches you and the other baristas. “Everyone, this is our new employee, Na Jaemin,” she says, introducing him to all of you. “Some of you may know him, as he’s a regular at our cafe. He’ll be working the afternoon shift from Monday to Wednesday. I hope all of you look after him well, and show him the ropes”. She then takes her leave as Jaemin comes to join all of you behind the counter. 

“Hello everyone,” Jaemin greets, his pearly whites appearing as he gives all of you a small bow. So cute! You internally squeal as you greet him back. It was the first time you’d seen him properly smile, as every time he ordered coffee from you, his face had this permanently exhausted look on it thanks to what you can only assume to be the university student life. You return his greeting, relaxing as you realise that maybe Lia was right and he’d forgotten about the incident. 

Or…maybe not. 

“Aren’t you the barista who spilled my drink on me last week?” Jaemin questions as he pours milk into a blender, eyes narrowing into slits as he stares at you. “How do you still have a job? You can’t even serve a drink properly”. 

Okay, that does it for you. First day on the job and he’s already being so rude?

“Can you just forget about it? You got the job in the end, didn’t you?” you snap, making your annoyance clear as you somewhat aggressively spray whipped cream onto a customer’s drink. “Also why are you showing disrespect to colleagues on your first day here? How did you even get hired?”

Jaemin shrugs, and you feel a vexation prick at the back of your neck at his nonchalant attitude. “Bold of you to talk about respect, considering you were pretty disrespectful to me last week by spilling my own drink order on me”.

"Shut the fuck up, will you?" you hiss, trying to keep your voice from rising to fever pitch, in order to not attract unpleasant attention to the both of you.

Jaemin opens his mouth to retort, but Lia steps in. “Enough, you two. Let’s just move on from the incident, shall we? I’m sure she didn’t mean to do that”. 

Shooting her a grateful look, you move over to the shelf to grab a tea bag to prepare a customer’s order. “Not quite your ideal type anymore, huh?” Lia whispers from next to you as she washes a mug. 

Cringing, you shake your head furiously. “Appearance wise, still yes. Personality-wise, definitely not”. 

»»————-　☕️　————-««

Ever since Jaemin joined the team, it was almost like you couldn’t have a peaceful day at work, especially since you and Jaemin always shared the same shifts. Both of you were constantly at each other's throats now, even over small things, and today wasn't any different.

“Y/n! You didn’t heat this up long enough!” Jaemin hollers, gesturing to the chocolate chip cookie on the counter top. 

Rolling your eyes, you turn around to address him. “You didn’t serve it on time and it’s cooled down, you idiot. Also, Seungkwan asked for an extra espresso shot, which you didn’t add in. Who’s the one who can’t do his job properly now, huh? I hope the boss fires you one of these days”.

As a look of hurt flashes across Jaemin’s face for a fleeting moment, you feel a small pang of guilt hit you. Jaemin covers it up by rolling his eyes at you and muttering “piece of shit”, before moving over to add the extra espresso shot as you shove the plate with the cookie on it into the oven again. At that moment, his ringtone sounds out, and he takes his phone out of his apron pocket. Colour drains from his face at the sight of the caller ID, and he hurriedly excuses himself to the storeroom, leaving you to man the counter yourself since both Lia and the other barista weren’t able to make it to work today. “Hi, what can I get for you?” you inquire, plastering a smile on your face and turning to face the customer, who asks for a cappuccino. 

You open up the mini-fridge below the counter, only to find that there’s no more milk left. No big deal, you could always get more from the bigger fridge in the store room. Heading over to the store room, you push the door open and prepare to step inside when Jaemin’s voice stops you in your tracks. “…what? The surgery costs that much? I thought it was cheaper…” 

Peeking through the door slightly, you’re greeted by the sight of Jaemin pacing around the small room and clutching onto a handful of his black hair. From his tone and demeanour, it was evident that he was in a clear state of stress. "Yes, I got the job, but I don't think my earnings from the shifts I'm working currently can cover the costs". Another pause. "It's alright. I'll just ask the supervisor if I can work more shifts. It's more important that grandma gets well. Okay, bye. Send my well-wishes to her". 

Jaemin turns around and you dart back out of the room to avoid being seen, but you still catch a glimpse of the tear drops falling from his eyes, sending a pang to your heart. Sure, you both argued all the time at work, but it didn't mean that you had no empathy for him at all, now that you had an idea of his circumstances — even if it was a vague one. You recall when he lashed out at you for spilling coffee on him just before his interview, and now you're able to better understand his reaction, thanks to the newly learned information about his grandmother’s situation. Yes, his reaction was still rude and unnecessarily harsh, but he was going through a stressful time himself. Guilt floods you suddenly as you think of all the times you'd flung harsh words at him for no reason.

As Jaemin emerges from the store room, you enter and get the milk and start preparing the customer's drink, all while this question replayed in your head: what could you do to help him?

"Y/n!" a clear voice sounds from the cash register, and you recognise it to be your regular customer and best friend from junior college – Chaewon. 

Enthusiastically returning her greeting, you inquire about her order. "Chae! What would you like today?"

Chaewon scans the menu and makes her decision. "I'll get a tall strawberry frappuccino, no whipped, takeaway". 

"No problem!" You answer, and prepare the drink for her as she goes to the side to wait. "One tall strawberry frappuccino for Chaewon!" you announce, and your friend skips up to collect her drink. 

"Thank you! Here's a tip for you – you deserve it," Chaewon adds with a wink as she stuffs a wad of notes into your hand before sauntering away. "See you in class tomorrow!"

"See you Chae!" you call back. You head into the store room, intending to keep the money in your wallet, until the sight of Jaemin's wallet peeking out of his backpack catches your attention. A thought then hits you: why not give the tips I get to Jaemin? He needs it more than I do, anyway. 

Without a second thought, your hands are already pulling the wallet out of his bag and stashing the tip Chaewon gave you into the wallet. Putting the wallet back where it was, you stride out of the room again as if nothing happened. Yeah, I'll keep doing this. Hopefully it helps to ease Jaemin's financial burden, you think to yourself.  

Thankfully, the rest of the day goes by without a hitch. “Y/n! Good job today, just finish the last order and then you can go,” your supervisor comments, giving you a small smile. “Here’s today’s pay. See you tomorrow!” she finishes, passing you an envelope which contained your day’s earnings. 

“Thank you so much ma’am! See you tomorrow!” You reply, calling for the last customer and then heading off to the store room to collect your bag. Peeking inside, you catch Jaemin gawking at his open wallet, prompting you to just stay outside and observe his reaction for a while. "No way. I don't remember receiving any tips. So how did this cash appear?" he asks himself, opening and closing his wallet repeatedly – even slapping himself at one point. "Oh my goodness. Whichever supernatural power provided me with this, thank you," he whispers, putting his cash into his wallet before shutting it again and placing it in his bag. His stressed expression melts away, and is replaced by a smile – one of relief and hope. The sight makes your heart rate increase faster than you'd like to admit, but you ignore it and exit the coffee shop, glad that you were able to do something to brighten up Jaemin's day. 

»»————-　☕️　————-««

Jaemin had gotten the green light from your supervisor to work extra shifts, so over the next few weeks you both see each other more often as all his shifts coincide with yours. Though both of you are still rather cold towards each other, you argue less with him as you force yourself to hold your tongue whenever you're tempted to spew unkind things at him, knowing that he was going through a rough time. 

And of course, you continue with your plan of secretly giving him all the tips that customers leave you – whether it was sixty cents or fifty bucks. 

Today's just another day at work, and you overhear Jaemin on the phone as you're busy whipping up drinks for customers again. "Oh my gosh, no way". 

Though you know it’s technically wrong, the saying “eavesdroppers never hear any good about themselves” leaves your memory momentarily as you prick up your ears to listen to the conversation, hoping that it was news about his grandmother. As his voice raises in pitch and grows increasingly excited, you feel your heart begin to beat faster as well, like the wings of a bird about to take off. "We only need $50 more and she can get surgery? That's fantastic news!" 

Your heart swelled with joy, so much so that you thought it would burst right there and then in the cafe. Jaemin's grandmother would be saved! Though you didn't know the elderly woman, hearing the news still made you nearly melt in relief. 

"Thank you, see you again!" you flash a bright smile to a customer as you hand them their order. 

"Thank you! Here's a tip for you!" the customer replies and hands you some cash. Accepting it gratefully, you take a peek at it, and your heart leaps even higher than before at the sight. It's a fifty dollar note!

"Just what Jaemin needs!" you whisper to yourself, stashing the note in your pocket and making a mental note to put the money in his wallet when the day was over, since it was a very busy time at the cafe right now. 

As promised, you secretly stash the note in his wallet again after your shift is over. Hopefully, this covers the costs of the surgery, you think to yourself as you pull the wallet out, unclasp it and stuff the money in. 

“Wait, it’s you?” A familiar voice sounds from behind you, making you jump and whip your head around at breakneck speed as his wallet falls out of your grip and onto the floor with a clatter. 

“Jaemin?” you blurt out dumbly, stunned by your colleague’s sudden appearance. 

“Y/n? It’s you who’s been giving me the extra money?” Jaemin responds, seemingly even more astonished by the whole situation than you were. 

It’s at this moment you realise there’s no point hiding it from him any further — he’d already discovered the "culprit" behind the extra money appearing in his wallet. “Yes, it’s me,” you sigh, handing his wallet back to him. “Look, I'm really sorry about this, but I happened to overhear your phone converstion with someone one day, and you were saying something about there not being enough money to send your grandmother for some kind of surgery or something like that. You seemed so sad and I just couldn’t bear to see it because I know it must be so stressful, having a family member who’s severely ill and not having financial means to get them treatment. So I thought I’d just quietly help you by giving you whatever tips customers left for me — I don’t really need the extra money right now. I did all this secretly, because I was worried you’d accuse me of purposefully eavesdropping or pitying you if you knew what I was doing. Also, it’d be awkward if I were to suddenly start intervening in your family matters since we’re both not really on good terms right now,” you explain, attempting to clear the air of confusion by explaining your intentions. 

For a few moments, the only sound in the store room is the drone of whatever machinery is keeping the old fridge running as Jaemin slowly processes what you'd just told him. Finally, he speaks up. "Y/n, you have absolutely no idea how much that means to me. I was so, so worried when I found out the actual cost of the surgery, and that we might not be able to pay for it on time for my grandmother to survive. For so many nights, I couldn't sleep for so long because I was so worried," he explains. "But thanks to your kind donations, we'll be able to pay for it before she gets it today. Words alone can't express my gratitude to you. Really". He looks up and meets your gaze, and his eyes are moist with emotion. 

Your lips curve into a gentle smile. "I'm glad I could help, Jaemin. I hope your grandmother's surgery goes well, and for her to have a speedy and stable recovery," you answer. 

"I'm going to the hospital to visit her now, so I'll convey your well wishes to her. See you tomorrow, y/n". As he leaves the store room, he shows you a genuine smile, the first one he'd shown you ever since you both became coworkers. 

Your heart melts at the sight, like the marshmallows you used to top orders of hot chocolate. "See you tomorrow, Jaemin". You return his smile, and continue to pack your own things as well before you leave the cafe. As much as you don't want to admit, for some reason this much more pleasant interaction has you using every single ounce of your willpower to stop yourself from squealing out in joy.

»»————-　☕️　————-««

"Y/n!" A familiar voice calls out to you as you start up the coffee machine next Monday morning.

"Oh hey, Jaemin!" You reply calmly as said boy comes up to you, looking much more relaxed and confident, compared to the usual worried and downcast expression etched on his face that had been the norm for the past few weeks. 

"Excuse me," he murmurs, reaching out for the coffee machine and dispensing some into the plastic cup in his hand that was half-filled with ice, before calmly sipping on the beverage. "By the way, my grandmother's surgery was a success, and the doctor's prognosis for her looks good," Jaemin reveals, officially putting your worries about his grandmother to rest. 

"Really? That's awesome!" you exclaim, sharing your coworker's joy over the good news. 

Jaemin nods, a radiant smile forming on his face as he continues. "On behalf of the rest of my family, thank you so much. I know this probably isn't much, but please, let me treat you to a meal one day".

Though you initially refute his suggestion and say it's not necessary, arguing that you were simply helping him out in his time of need, you eventually give in to his insistence. "How is she now? Is she recovering from surgery well?" you inquire as you pile marshmallows onto a cup of hot chocolate.

"Yes, when I visited her yesterday, she had regained some of her appetite, and though she still seemed quite tired, she had slightly more energy than before, which are good signs," Jaemin replies, blending a matcha frappuccino. "Actually, do you want to come with me to visit her after work today?" 

"Why not? I don't have anything on today, so I should be able to come," you reply. 

"Alright then!" Jaemin grins, before turning and calling for the customer to pick up their order.

You return your attention to the drink you were making, totally surprised by your exchange with Jaemin earlier — much more pleasant compared to the interactions you’d had prior to this day. Maybe the saying your teachers had drilled into your head since elementary school was true. A small act of kindness could turn a situation around — in this case, it helped Jaemin’s family afford a life-saving surgery for his grandmother, and helped you and Jaemin warm up to each other. 

»»————-　☕️　————-««

Before you both go to visit his grandmother, Jaemin insists on treating you to a sumptuous burger dinner. Which is how you both end up at a restaurant, with the juiciest chicken burger you've ever seen in your life, along with fries that have been fried to crisp golden brown perfection and a cup of iced lemon tea. 

“How’s life been?” Jaemin asks, tucking into his own burger.

“Oh, it’s been quite chill. I just finished my graduating exam not long ago and am waiting for my results to come out, so I don’t really have much to do. That’s why I took on this job — to earn some money and pass my time,” you explain, picking up a few fries and popping them into your mouth, savouring the crunch that followed. “What about you?”

“University’s been kicking my ass,” Jaemin groans. “The professors have gone ham on my class — who gives their students freaking five essays to finish in a week? On top of that, I’ve got frisbee practices after school and also this job. Luckily my grandmother’s condition has stabilised, or else I’d have even more stress to deal with,” he adds. 

“Oh my, that sounds tough. All the best,” you grunt empathetically, knowing exactly how he felt. Though you had never studied in a university, you’d just finished junior college, and had experienced days where the onslaught of homework seemed never ending, leaving you feeling as if you were going to suffocate to death under the workload that only seemed to get heavier and heavier each day. “Oh yeah — speaking of your grandmother, what exactly happened to her? If you’re not comfortable sharing this with me, please don’t feel obligated to do so,” you hurriedly add at the end. You were aware that this was a very sensitive topic, and that Jaemin might wish to keep such matters to himself. 

“About that…” Jaemin’s voice trails off, and he scratches his head as he contemplates whether to tell you or not. “Okay. I’ll tell you, since you’re the one who basically saved her life,” he decides, before beginning his story. “It was cancer. Stomach cancer. She lost her appetite, and often complained of stomach pain. Initially, we thought that it was simply a stomach bug, and we took her to the doctor who just prescribed her some medication. But she didn’t improve — if anything, she got worse. The day she began vomiting blood, we knew that something was terribly wrong. A check up at the hospital revealed that she had stage 3 stomach cancer”. 

“Oh gosh, that’s horrible,” you muse, brows forming a furrow in the center of your forehead. 

“It was. Our whole family was devastated, especially knowing that she wouldn’t have any chance of survival unless she went for surgery. But at that point of time, my dad had just been laid off, meaning that we weren’t able to afford to pay for the operation. Hence we began scrimping and saving, with my dad taking on three jobs in order to try to earn some money. My mother took on two odd jobs, while also having to look after my younger siblings at home. I was really anxious about my grandmother, and I felt terrible seeing how exhausted my parents were. So, I decided to do whatever I can to help, which is why I took on this job, thinking that the salary I’d earn would be sufficient. But the hospital called back to say that the cost of the surgery would actually be more expensive than we initially thought, since my grandmother’s case was extra complicated, and it sent me back into a panic because I knew that even with extra shifts, the money I earned might not even be able to cover the costs. Gosh, I’m so glad it’s over,” Jaemin finishes, breathing out a sigh. The tears that had welled up in his eyes, now pouring out like rain, spoke volumes just how bleak that period had been for Jaemin. 

The sight of him tearing up made your heart ache. “I’m so sorry you guys went through that,” you murmur, reaching over to rub his shoulder to comfort him. “That must have been so tough. Fortunately, you guys were able to afford the procedure in the end. You're so strong".

Jaemin nods. “And it’s all thanks to you”. 

“Now I know why you were so worked up that day,” you add, thinking back to the day when you’d had your first proper interaction with Jaemin.

A quizzical look comes upon Jaemin’s face. “Which day?” 

“The day you came to the cafe for your job interview. I spilled your drink on you, remember?” you remind him, a sheepish smile gracing your features. 

Jaemin's brows furrow as he searches his brain, trying to recall the moment you had mentioned. His eyes widen, and he snaps his fingers as the memory returns to him. "Oh! Right! Oh my, I still feel so bad about it, jeez," he exclaims, his palm meeting his forehead. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that over such a small thing. I think that's why our relationship has been so sour". 

"No, no, it's fine. That was in the past, was it not?" you say, reassuring Jaemin that you don't hold any grudges against him over past events. “I’m sorry too, for saying that I hoped the boss would fire you, when it was a time when you needed this job most”. 

“It’s alright. Honestly, I don’t even have any memory of that incident, anyway,” Jaemin chuckles, popping the last of his fries into his mouth. “You done? Let’s go, then,” he decides as you nod. 

At the hospital, you get to know Jaemin’s grandmother. She took the chance to express her thanks towards you for donating the money that went towards her life-saving surgery. "Jaemin told me all about it," she mentions. "Thank you so much. Make sure to treat her to something nice," she adds, directing her comment towards Jaemin.

"He already has, and besides, there's no need for it," you chuckle. "I’m just happy that I could help". 

Your evening ends with you and Jaemin spending an hour chatting with the affable elderly lady over the happenings in your lives, who was a pleasure to talk to. "Thank you for coming over to visit! I hope to see you again, y/n. You're coming again tomorrow, right?" she confirms with Jaemin.

"Yep, that's right. See you tomorrow, grandma. Have a good rest," he replies, giving his grandmother a hug before leading you out of the ward and shutting the door. 

The walk out of the hospital is silent, but this time it's a comfortable silence and not one that's permeated by a frosty, cold atmosphere. "So…coming tomorrow?" Jaemin asks, breaking the silence.

"I think I can come," you reply. "I should be free. If you and your grandmother are okay with that, of course," you hastily add. 

Jaemin snorts and chortles at your answer. "Of course I'm alright with it! Why would I ask you if I wasn't? And plus my grandmother literally just said she hopes to see you again," he replies. 

"Alright then, I'll come," you confirm, laughs pouring out of your mouth as well. From relentlessly firing abrasive remarks at each other to being able to laugh together, you and Jaemin's relationship sure had come a long way.

»»————-　☕️　————-««

In the days that follow, you find yourself tagging along with Jaemin to visit his grandmother more often whenever you're free after work, and having dinner with him after. Through these interactions, both of you grow closer, and the fluttering in your heart whenever he cracks a joke or pulls a silly antic increases in frequency, which you often try to suppress. As much as you try to deny it, you’ve grown fonder of him as the days go by, as he shows more and more of his true self to you. 

It's also no surprise that now the old lady sees you as her own granddaughter, and often treats you as such. You came to trust her with whatever was on your mind as well, sharing with her deeper things that were on your heart and mind and taking the sensible advice she offered. She would also humour you with many different stories, from both her own and Jaemin's childhood. 

Today, however, was slightly different. You had gone to visit Jaemin's grandmother by yourself, since Jaemin had to attend a project meeting with his group mates after work. So here you were, seated in a chair beside her bed and laughing out loud as she let you in on some of the embarrassing things Jaemin had done in his childhood.

"You know, Jaemin used to be so shy to talk to girls when he was a child. Last time, he'd come and hide behind me whenever girls tried to talk to him. I would have to coax him out just to say hi!" she explains, chortling as she relates the memory to you and your eyes go wide. Jaemin seemed so comfortable around you, you'd never have known that he was so shy as a kid.

"Really?" you ask, letting the surprise sink in.

"Yes, really," his grandmother confirms. "And whenever he liked any girl he never ever made any move to confess. He simply kept his feelings to himself and only ever spoke to me about them". 

"Wow, I didn't know," you laugh.

"Yeah, Jaemin was terribly shy as a child. Come to think of it, you're the only girl he's been this comfortable with," she adds. "I actually think he feels a certain way towards you, but he doesn't want to say anything," she adds.

"How would you know?" You inquire, brows furrowing in surprise. Surely she was wrong?

"He's always bringing you along on his visits, if you're available. And when you're not, it seems to make him feel a bit sad," the old lady begins explaining. "Every visit, he has to mention at least one thing about you – even if it's as small as the smile you gave him when he arrived at work". 

"Oh…I see". You falter in your reply, unsure of how to process what his grandmother had just told you.

"And when I tried asking him about it, he tried so hard to deny his own feelings for you. But I can read my grandson, you know. He likes you more than a friend, but he doesn't want to say anything. He's too shy, and he’s scared that he’ll spoil the friendship between you two," his grandmother adds, before shooting you a question that catches you off guard. "Do you feel the same towards him too?"

"Well I- I…" you stutter even more, unsure of your response. "Okay, maybe I do. At first it was purely due to his looks, because I always saw him order from us during my shifts and found him really handsome. But as I got to know him better, I found things about his personality attractive too. Like how he loves his family so much, he'd willingly sacrifice more of his limited time to work extra shifts to provide the money they need. And how gentle he is towards the people he cares about. There's more, but if I were to list them all I'll be here past visiting hours," you joke, while at the same time voicing your true thoughts and feelings about Jaemin.

His grandmother nods, processing your answer. "I see. From my previous interactions with you, I can tell that you're a sensible, compassionate young lady as well, and I think you'd be a good match for my grandson. Now that you know he feels the same way towards you, will you be bold and take the first step to tell him your feelings?" she asks, looking up at you with hope in her eyes. 

“I…” you trail off, not knowing if you should accede to her request. On one hand, you had come to terms with the fact that you fancied Jaemin more than a friend, and what you felt was probably not just a fleeting crush, and you badly wished to get these feelings off your chest. On the other hand, you were immensely worried about what would happen if you told Jaemin these things. 

That he would see you differently. 

That he’d reject you, and you’d have to deal with the sting that would come after. 

That the friendship between both of you would be affected. 

There was just so much to worry about!

“Y/n, I know what you’re thinking. I know you’re worried about his reaction,” Jaemin’s grandmother drawls understandingly. “But trust me, he’s thinking the exact same things as you, and because of that he’s not willing to make the first move. So, now the ball is in your court. Are you willing to take that risk?” She asks, her gaze on you unmoving. 

“I…I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it,” you answer honestly. 

His grandmother nods, grunting in understanding. “Alright then, if you wish. There’s no pressure on you to do anything, really. The choice is really yours. But believe me — it would make his day”. 

That day, you left the hospital in the biggest dilemma you’ve been in for a long while.

»»————-　☕️　————-««

It doesn’t take too long for you to make up your mind. 

“I’m gonna do it”. You declare, striding out of the store room as you tie up your apron. It’s a monday morning, and you’re back at work again.

“Do what?” Lia asks, a quizzical expression coming over her.

“I’m gonna shoot my shot”. 

At this, Lia lets the plastic cups in her hand clatter to the floor. “You’re what?” 

You move quickly to help her pick up the cups. “I said what I said. I’m shooting my shot today”. 

“Yes, yes, I heard you, but with who?” Lia speaks quickly, looking as if she’s just heard the most ridiculous new in her life. 

“Na Jaemin, duh,” you answer, stacking the plastic cups up where they should be. 

“You’re- no way.” 

“Yes way. I’ve decided I’m gonna take my chances today, and if it doesn’t go as planned- oh well, what’s the worst that could happen? At most, I get rejected and I lose a friend,” you reason, explaining your thought process — though more so to try and calm your nerves than to appease Lia’s curiosity. Truth be told, you were becoming extremely jumpy, and you felt like you were going to begin bouncing off the walls any moment.

“Are you insane? There is no way on earth he’s going to reject you!” Lia exclaims, staring at you incredulously. “If he rejects you, it means the sky’s gonna fall down tomorrow”. 

“How are you so sure?” you question, narrowing your eyes into slits as you stare at her. 

“It’s so obvious, duh. I can practically see hearts in his eyes whenever he looks at you!” she answers as she gives the countertop a quick wipedown with a cloth. “Bet he’s too shy to speak his mind, though”. 

You shrug in response, arranging a few more mugs on the countertop. “I don’t know. But I’ll see how everything goes”.

“It’ll be more than fine. Trust me,” Lia declares. “But anyway, what’s your plan?”

You whisper your plan into her ear, and her brows furrow disapprovingly. “That’s it? That’s so basic, y/n!” she groans. 

“Hey, basic isn’t always bad!” you exclaim, shoving her playfully. “If it works, it works, okay!”

“Whatever”. Lia rolls her eyes jokingly. “But just know I’m rooting for the both of you”. 

Fortunately, Jaemin shows up to work punctually, meaning that your plan can be put into action. 

“Psst, Jaemin,” you whisper, waving your hand in front of his face. “Earth to Jaemin”.

“Sorry, what?” Jaemin responds, snapping out of his momentary trance.

You can’t help but laugh at his stunned response. “Looks like the mid-afternoon coma is hitting us both — I feel it too. So, I was thinking we make each other a coffee of our choice, just to perk ourselves up. What do you say?”

“Why not? I need the caffeine fix real bad right now anyway,” he reasons, standing up from his chair and moving to where the cups and mugs were placed. “Hot, iced, or ice blended?” he asks. 

“Surprise me”. You simply respond, flashing him a grin. “And I’ll surprise you too”. 

With that, you both begin whipping up drinks for each other. 

You decide to make him a venti vanilla sweet cream cold brew, since his usual order is a cold brew, but you also know that he’s been obsessed with iced vanilla lattes recently — so why not combine the best of both worlds? Being aware that he enjoys having a stronger coffee taste in his drinks, you make his drink a little less sweet. 

This is where your plan comes to life. Picking up a marker, you write this on the cup, taking care to write where the vanilla cream is visible:

Be mine?

▢ yes

▢ no

Now, all that’s left to do is to wait for Jaemin to finish with yours, pass him the drink, and then wait for his response. 

It sounds so simple in theory, so why do my hands feel heavy as lead now? You question mentally as Jaemin reappears, looking slightly sheepish. “Y/n? I’m done with yours, are you finished with mine?” he asks softly. 

“Yes, of course! Here you go,” you exclaim, pass him the cup of cold brew and take your drink, trying to hide how your hands are shaking as if a 9.2 magnitude earthquake is taking place on them. 

The sight of your drink sends a new wave of butterflies flying right through you, while at the same time causing a laugh to bubble up in you, which you fight to keep down. 

Jaemin had made you a classic latte, but with a hilarious yet heartwarming twist. He’d clearly given his best shot at latte art, as shown from the words on the drink which have now almost dissolved into illegible, messy foam streaks. Fortunately for you, you’re still able to comprehend it. 

It’s the exact same thing that you wrote on his cup. 

You peek in Jaemin’s direction and catch sight of him gawking at the writing on his cup. “Y/n…” he trails off, his facial expression a clear giveaway of the shock he’s feeling. “I can’t believe we were thinking the exact same thing!” he exclaims, before bursting into guffaws. 

“I can’t believe it either,” you respond, now laughing your head off along with him. “Gosh, and to think I was so afraid to do this!”

“So was I!” Jaemin chuckles, sipping on the drink. “If only I knew you had almost the exact same plans as I had”.

“Well…I guess our answers to each other are obvious then,” you giggle. By now, you’re smiling so widely, the corners of your mouth could reach your ears, and you feel as if your whole chest is going to explode with how fast and hard your heart is pounding. 

“Well then, cheers to our newfound love for each other,” Jaemin declares, raising his cup and pulling you in for a side hug, all while gazing at you lovingly. 

“Cheers,” you respond, bringing your cup to his as you lean closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as you soak up the warmth of his embrace. 

[late-to-the-party-81]

Hi Jen! Congrats on the 1K ❤️ You deserve them all and so much more!

I’m sorry that I’m a little bit late with sending in a request but would it be possible to do “The grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one” with Mr. Bucky 🥺 All the love and hugs to you!

AN: Hanna, my love! I hope you enjoy this!

ANd this brings my celebration fics to a close. You still have plenty of time to write your own Challenge Fic for inclusion on my celebration masterlist.

Beta’d by @lfnr-blog-blog-blog. Dividers by @firefly-graphics, moodboard and banner by me

Main Master list | Challenge Master list 

Summary: You’re perpetually chipper and happy. The steely-eyed brunet you run into outside your work is not.

Relationship: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

CW: Grumpy Bucky, Meet Cute, Fluff and flirting.

You’re always happy. Nothing ever seems to get you down. So much so, that even your friends call you ‘Sunny’. Que sera, sera was your motto. No use crying over spilt milk, etc. Life is what you make of it, so you choose to make it joyful. Your best friend thought that your receptionist job would eventually wear you down and turn you into a cynic, like her, but no. It was like being upbeat was your superpower.

It was therefore a normal morning as you walked down the sidewalk, humming along to the music pumping through your earbuds, on your way to work. The subway hadn’t been packed, the sun was shining out from behind the clouds and you knew it would be a wonderful day, especially once you’d picked up your hazelnut latte from old Frankie, the street coffee vendor half a block from your office. He always had your drink waiting for you and you always had just slightly more than the exact change, rushing away without taking the change, no matter how many times he’d tried to either catch up with you, or insist the next one was on the house. Thinking about that first sip of nutty-sweet milky java had you almost salivating. Unfortunately it also distracted you.

You registered the bump, followed by a curse that was loud enough to pierce through the music pulsating straight into your ears. You turned to see a man in a leather jacket, with short brown hair, swiping at the patch of wetness on his jeans with a gloved hand, while an empty paper coffee cup lay on its side on the ground. You pulled out your earbuds and then, without thinking, pulled a handful of paper napkins out of your purse. You dropped to a crouch in front of him and started to pat at the dampness.

“I’m so sorry! I was just distracted by the beauty of the day and the thought of my first coffee, and I just didn’t see you, and I hope you’re okay and…”

Your brain kicked in as two things happened. Firstly, you realised that you were patting very close to the stranger’s crotch. Secondly, the napkins were being pulled out your hand very firmly and you were being pulled to your feet.

Blue.

That’s what you noticed first.

Icy, steely blue.

His eyes were like diamonds and momentarily you couldn’t look away.

“...I said, do you always make a habit of accosting and groping strangers first thing in the morning?”

You snapped back to reality as you realised that ‘blue eyes’ was talking to you. Well, actually, it was more like growling at you. What a sourpuss. You flashed him one of your trademark smiles.

“Not everyday, I’ll admit - the police might have something to say about it.” The man ‘harumphed’ and continued glaring at you. Obviously not a fan of your brand of humour.

“...Anyway, let me get you another coffee, it’s the least I can do to apologise.”

You turned toward old Frankie and his cart, and bless his soul if he didn’t already have your drink, and what you could only assume was a duplicate of Grumpy’s order.

“The refill is on the house, Sunny. And no arguments. Accidents happen.”

You smiled at the old man and bent down to place a kiss on his cheek.

“That they do, Frankie. And, if you’ll excuse the blasphemy, it’s only coffee.”

He shook his head at you with a smile and waved you away so he could deal with his next customer. You turned back to the object of your unanticipated morning interaction, only to find that he’s gone. You turned in a circle, seeing if you could spot which way he’d gone, but nope, he’d completely disappeared. Well, his loss, and now you had a spare coffee. With a small shrug you continued on your way.

Ten am, and you were settled into your day. You loved your job as a receptionist at the VA. You got to help some of your nation’s greatest and bravest citizens transition back to civilian life, which you felt was the least you could do to show your appreciation. When you weren’t greeting those coming to use the various services offered at this centre, you were phoning veterans to organise appointments for physiotherapy, counselling and group support sessions.

“Hey, Sunny!” You looked up from your computer to see Joe, one of the support group leaders smiling at you as he leant on your counter. 

“Morning, Joe! It’s a lovely day today, and made even better by you being here!” 

“Sunny, you keep flirting like that, I’m gonna have to insist you come out for a drink with me.”

You chuckled. This was your regular banter with him.

“Joe, you know this ain’t flirting, this is just me. And you’re as old as my dad.”

He clutched his hand to his heart, theatrically. “You wound me, Sunny. I may just expire, as I’m apparently that old. Anyhow, you got me the expected attendance list for the meeting?”

You rifled through the papers in the folder on your desk.

“Sure thing. Here it is. I can see you gotta few new names on here, so hopefully it will be an interesting one.”

“You know that’s an old Chinese curse - ‘may you live in interesting times’?” He gave you a wink as he took the paper from your hand and walked off towards the room he used, with only a slight limp giving away the fact that his right leg was a prosthetic.

Half an hour later and the vets for the Joe’s group started to arrive, all of them being amputees of some description, some sporting prosthetics and others not. They all came together though, to talk about the trauma of losing a limb in combat, the long road to recovery and issues associated with having a prosthetic or a missing limb, both physically, mentally and socially. 

The regulars came up and used the computer screen on their side of your desk to log their arrival and get a printed photo sticker-badge to wear. The newbies, however, had to go through you for their first time, which is why you always recommended they turn up 15 minutes before the start of the session so you could double check their identity, the information you held and then get them a computer profile set up for all return visits.

You’d just completed all the paperwork with one newcomer, and sent him off with an old-hand to the meeting room when the doors to the building slammed open. You looked up and couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face.

“It’s you! I’m afraid I drank your replacement coffee, cos you disappeared so quickly.”

Grumpy just glared at you. You noticed there was still a slight stain on his jeans. You tried a different tack.

“Can I help you with anything? Are you a vet, or looking to support a vet? We’ve got lots of programmes and support groups.”

Still without saying anything he tugged the glove off his left hand, revealing the metallic sheen of the most advanced prosthetic you’d ever seen. Understanding dawned.

“Ooo! Are you here for the amputee support group?” You looked down at your copy of the attendance list, noting that only one vet, one of the new guys hadn’t yet checked in.  “Are you James Barnes?”

“Sergeant.”

A look of puzzlement marred your features.

“Pardon?”

“Sergeant Barnes.”  You got it then. Some guys, especially if fresh out and still adjusting, preferred to be referred to by their military rank. 

“Okay, Sergeant Barnes. I’ve just gotta get you set up here. What’s your date of birth?” You glanced up from your computer to find he was still staring at you.

“Seriously? You’re asking me that?”

You were confused by his tone; this wasn’t normally an issue.

“Absolutely. Gotta make sure I’ve got it all correct.”

“Like you don’t already know.”

Your almost permanent smile started to falter under his intense gaze.

“I really don’t. And I need it for the records.”

Barnes let out a resigned huff.

“Fine. Play your games. Seventeenth March, 1917.”

“1970? Gotta say, you don’t look like you’re over fifty. Good genes I suppose.”

“No, doll. 1917. One Nine One Seven.”

Now you were really confused.

“How is that possible? That would make you…” You paused while you did the maths in your head…. “One hundred and six. And like I just said, you don’t even look fifty.”

“Look, doll. Either you’re a really good actress, been hiding under a rock, or just dumb.”

Normally you could keep your cool, laugh and brush off negative comments, but something about the grumpy sergeant was rubbing you up the wrong way.

“That’s not very nice, Sergeant. Just because you don’t like the questions and don’t want to answer them properly, doesn’t mean you have to be mean to me.”

He sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Are you really telling me that you don’t know who I am? Even with having my name in front of you, seeing my arm and me telling you how old I am? Don’t you ever watch the news?”

“Not really. It’s too depressing and sad.”

Another sigh.

“Okay, okay. My full name is James Buchanen Barnes, 107th. Presumed KIA in February 1945, but in fact taken captive by Hydra. I survived traumatic, unintentional amputation of my left arm via snowy mountainside, and was given a replacement by them when they brain-washed me, turning me into an assassin, and was kept cryogenically frozen between missions, spanning over 70 years. I was known as the Winter Soldier. My conditioning started to break in 2014 when I was commanded to kill Captain America, but as Steve was my childhood best friend, my brain rebelled. I went on the run for two years until I was framed for the assassination of King T’Chaka of Wakanda and captured by Shield, then triggered into my Winter Soldier state by a disgruntled Sokovian Baron, wanting revenge on the Avengers for the death of his family during the Ultron incident. I then spent a further two years in Wakanda, having my programming broken, recovering mentally and physically, and given this new arm, before fighting Thanos and getting dusted with half of everyone else. Came back in the Blip, and now supporting Sam Wilson as the new Captain America. I was pardoned for my past crimes and have to attend court mandated therapy and it’s been suggested that attending a support group could be good for me. Know who I am now?”

It was your turn to stare, eyes wide and mouth open as you absorbed all the information from his monologue.

“Soooo, what I’m getting is that you really are 106 years old and for some reason you have a pardon and court-mandated therapy for things you did while you were brain-washed. Seems hinky to me, but who am I to question it?”

A snort left Barnes’ nose, a mix of disbelief and amusement.

“That’s what you take from my story. No questions about Hydra, no histrionics about the fact that a famed assassin is standing in front of you?”

“Why would I? You’ve told me you’ve been ‘deprogrammed’, you’ve been referred to us for group support, and if you were that dangerous I’m sure I wouldn’t have survived the coffee incident this morning.”

His lips twitched, and his face transformed. The lines in his forehead disappeared and migrated to the corners of his eyes, eyes that were now less steel and more spring sky coloured.

“Nothing phases you, does it?”

“Nope. That’s why everyone calls me Sunny. And is that a smile I see, Sergeant? Don’t tell me that somehow I’ve broken through that stoic facade of yours?”

His smile grew wider.

“I’m sure you’re just imagining it. I’m still really annoyed.”

“Uh-huh?” You smiled back. No, you grinned back.

He leaned his crossed arms on the counter, his stance now far more relaxed.

“What other information do you need for that computer system of yours, Sunny? My telephone number perhaps?”

Oh, wow! He’d gone from grumpy to flirt in less than 60 seconds. Now he was fully smiling you had to admit he was kinda cute. Or rather hella hot. You resisted the urge to pull at the neckline of your top to let the steam out.

“I’ve already got a record of that here already, Sergeant.”

His arm reached over the countertop and he snagged your pen and notepad from next to you.

“Well, just in case you need it again for your records, or for any other purpose, I’ll write it down for you.”

If it was possible, your grin got wider.

“Why, Sergeant Barnes, that’s very… helpful of you.”

“Call me James, doll. Or Bucky, if you want.” The tip of his tongue peaked out from between his lips and you were mesmerised.

“Of course… James.” 

You swore you saw him shiver as you said his name. 

The clock above your head gave a ‘ding’ as it struck the hour, and you realised that his session was about to start. You gave a little cough and dragged your eyes away from Barnes’ James’ face and back to your computer.

“I’d best get this all finished off, so you can go join in the group. It’s really good - Joe is so lovely and supportive.”

You finished typing, directed him to stand in front of the camera (which he scowled at) and printed off his sticker ID.

“When you finish, just peel off the sticker, place it in the bin and note on the system that you’re leaving. That should be around midday.”

“And when do you get your lunch break, doll?”

Oh! How were you supposed to cope in the face of his megawatt charm? It had been a lot easier when he was grouchy, even though you’d wanted to tease him.

“Why, James, are you asking me out?”

“Well, you do owe me a coffee.”

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @talia-rumlow @peaches1958

[leilani-lily]

~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 6)

Weeee we made it to 6~! ✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )✧*｡ I'm deciding to take more time to edit and review each chapter before I upload it. I don't want the excitement to take over and I post it in a happy rush and then look back on it and wish I could change things too late (≡ ε ≡;) This chapter was delightful to write. I had too much fun. I have no regrets (< w <) SYNOPSIS: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. Reader isn't satisfied with not perfecting the jambalaya recipe, and is determined to try again. Alastor is lured to the kitchen, and of course, chaos ensues~ Word count: 5.7 k

Chapter under the cut!

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As happy as you were that you had nearly recreated his mother’s jambalaya, a small part of you itched to make it perfect. The joy you felt when you watched Alastor taste your cooking, it was something you wanted to experience again. It had kept you up that night as you lay in bed, thinking about the things you could adjust and remembering what Alastor had said was missing.

Charlie was kind enough to order food in for the guests on the weekend so it allowed you weekends off. However, that Saturday morning you were too inspired (and probably stubborn) and found yourself back in the kitchen during your free time, preparing to try and correct the rice dish. After making a quick pot of coffee and pouring yourself a cup, you turn on your trusty radio and let the music begin to pump you up. The fast paced jazz made you begin to bounce on your toes as you took a sip of java, feeling your body begin to loosen up and mind buzzing with determination. As the first song came to an end, you set your mug down and begin collecting all the cooking supplies, a sly smile curling up your lips.

Alastor’s weekends were usually filled with various tasks that needed to be attended to. Meeting’s with the other Overlords, get-togethers with Rosie, or running personal errands. However, the Radio Demon was shocked to find this morning was open, which was a rather pleasant surprise. Alastor was walking down the hallway, debating on either reading or taking a stroll through the city, when the sound of music floated to his ears. The lanky demon paused, his ears unbeknownst to him perking up at the sound as he deciphered where it was coming from. Determining it was coming from the kitchen, it made his eyebrows furrow in confusion. 

He knew very well that you had weekends off. And nobody else used the kitchen that often, especially with jazz blaring in the background. Curiosity was getting the best of the Radio Demon, and before he knew it, his long legs had guided him towards the kitchen.

(link to song here) 

As he got closer and the songs changed over, he was surprised to hear your voice suddenly gasp out in delight before joining along in the next song. It was a slow rhythm as you crooned along, your vibrato trilling as you held certain notes. Remembering how enchanting your voice was from when you had first met, his smile slowly widened, heeled boots unknowingly picking up the pace.

Turning the corner and seeing the entrance, Alastor slowed his stride and crept up to the door frame. The waft of simmering sausages and spices filled his nostrils, and he had a jolt of memories back to when he was a small child. The song’s beat had picked up slightly, the lyrics became faster. And surprisingly, you were keeping up like a pro. This must’ve been a song you were very familiar with, explaining the excited gasp he heard earlier. Beyond intrigued, he dared to peek around into the kitchen to a sight that he honestly wasn’t prepared for.

You bounced from foot to foot, your hips swinging to the beat, your shoulders shimmying as your head nodded side to side. You were poking a couple sausages on the stovetop, the fat sizzling and popping from the heat. You turned on a heel and approached the island, grabbing a kitchen knife nearby and quickly mincing some onion like a natural. You continued to sing quick and on the beat, completely lost in the music and singing your heart out.

There was a mess of other ingredients and cooking utensils scattered around you, and you were sweating from the heat of the stove. Usually this would bother the Radio Demon, liking to keep things tidy; both in space and appearance. But oddly enough, that wasn’t what he focused on. His eyes remained on the beaming smile on your face; your eyes shining in pure delight and cheeks flush. You were completely in your element, and he a mere observer. 

At a certain point you even stopped chopping the onion and began to dance on the spot, eyes closed as you completely rocked out. You twisted your feet in and out, swayed your arms side to side (your dominant hand still holding a very sharp knife), and bopped your head, feeling the beat in your veins and taking a hold of you. 

You knew a super fast part in the song, so you were preparing yourself to really nail the fast lyrics. So when you felt two long arms slide down your own and a warm body press up from behind you, your soul almost left your body.

“No need to stop on my account darling~” Alastor crooned behind you, speaking before you could turn around and stab him with the knife in your hand. But then his long fingers wrapped around your hands and pulled you away from the island. 

Without a second though, you quickly dropped the knife as he twirled you in place, the music still playing in the background. Feeling yourself bubbling with excitement, you began to sing faster than lightning, the joy in your heart from this rare opportunity and secretly wanting to show off a moment. Alastors eyebrows raised impressively, and seemingly wanting to take it up a notch, as if this was a competition of talents. 

The suave demon twirled you out and let go of one hand but still firmly holding onto your other. You both break out into full swing dance as the horns blared and violins sang in the background. Alastor was quick on his feet, pulling you in close then spinning you out as both of your feet tapped and twirled. You managed to sneak glances at the Radio Demon, thoroughly surprised at his skill in dancing. The tall demon flashed you a smile and even dared a wink as you shimmied together, his grip on your one hand tight and secure. You continued to sing, although found it much more difficult to do while dancing to such a fast paced song. 

The melody slowed for a moment, indicating an instrumental and Alastor was quick to act. He pulled you in gently and immediately grabbed onto your hip, his other hand still tightly holding yours. You could feel your heart thrum in your chest from the proximity of the Radio Demon. You had never been so close to him before, your chest was pressed to his and the hold he had of you was captivating. Like even if you tried to push away he wouldn’t allow it. Not that you even wanted to. Not ever. This was a rare occasion; and definitely something that you didn’t want to pass up.

Finally finding the courage, you glance up at him, feeling very shy but your heart racing with exhilaration. You can see his crimson eyes are shining with delight as hooded lids focus on you. His grin was wide with amusement as he guided you around the room. You had to stop yourself from laughing out loud at the obscurity of it all, never imagining this is how your morning would end up. 

Dancing in the kitchen with a serial killer; your mother would be so proud. 

You knew the music would pick up again soon, and you knew Alastor could feel it the way he lightly squeezed your hand. You both shared a look, equally looking smug and ready for the next round. Giving him a nod of encouragement, Alastor twirled you out once more as you burst into song again. You belted out the lyrics, so full of glee you couldn’t contain your voice. 

You both continued to dance together, feet kicking up to the beat and arms swaying to and fro. He swapped you from hand to hand, guiding you around the room and switching from left to right, but never letting you go. At one point you both were hand in hand, looking at each other and dancing on the spot. From the giddy expression on his face, you could tell he was enjoying himself as much as you were, both of you feeling the drums thump in your chests. With all the fast dancing and excitement, you found your singing was occasionally interrupted by a tired laugh, especially when Alastor suddenly flung you around. But you knew the last note was coming, and you wanted to finish off strong.

When the instruments stopped and the final sentence played out, Alastor spun you out and let you have your moment; you belted that last note with pure joy. The song came to an end, and was promptly met with a commercial break as a muffled voice droned on in the background. The adrenaline coursing through you finally dropped and you let go of the demon's hand, bending over to catch your breath. Hands on knees, you couldn’t help the weary giggles escaping your throat as you panted, your brain still not sure if you had just imagined all of that. Feeling Alastor’s burning eyes still on you, you finally rise up and give him a tired, but beaming smile. You look him up and down and can't help but let out a single guffaw as you notice something.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” you laugh, “How are you not even sweating right now?? After all of that?!”

The tall demon stood before you, hands behind his back and completely composed as if he wasn’t just dancing up a storm with you. His expression was calm and amused as he watched you wipe your brow. His smile creaked up further onto his face. 

“Practice my dear y/n,” he hummed. He began to walk towards the sink with his head held high, clearly thrilled to gloat in front of you. “I was known to be quite the jitterbug back in the day~” He grabbed a clean cup and began to fill it up with cold water. You watched him in pure amazement; who would’ve known Alastor liked to dance? His gaze eventually slid back to you.

“Nevertheless, I must say,” he continued, turning the water off and striding back to you, “I was not the individual dancing and singing along to the melody. That’s an admirable skill set.” He offered the cup of water to you with a cocked eyebrow and you laughed out a tired ‘thanks’, happily taking the drink. You chugged it back instantly and sighed in relief, the Radio Demon watching you amusingly.

“Well,” you chuckled, setting the empty cup down and looking to the floor sheepishly, “I can’t really say I’m the best of dancers. I’m sure I looked like a ragdoll compared to you.” Your mind wandered back to the dance and could only imagine how you looked compared to your graceful and experienced partner. You couldn’t help the amused smile spread across your face.

“Hmmm… Perhaps…” Alastor mused, looking off to the distance and only confirming your thoughts. He was too much of a gentleman to admit a lady’s faults. It only made you laugh silently to yourself. 

“However, I will argue,” he continued, his gaze falling back to you, “your entrancing voice was enough to carry you through. And what more, you still chose to dance with pride, even if it was out of your comfort level. So for that, I applaud you~” Alastor bent slightly at his waist in a small bow as an applause track fizzed in the air. You giggled at the theatrics, feeling your cheeks redden at the compliment.

“Well, thank you,” you tittered, giving a small awkward curtsy in response, “It was nice having such an amazing dance partner; I haven’t had that much fun in a long time.” You beamed up at him, genuinely grateful for the impromptu dance session. Alastor watched you for a moment, taking in your expression before standing up straight again, looking down at you mirthfully.

“Well then my dear, we’ll just have to-” 

The Radio Demon stopped suddenly, his mouth still open and grinning. But his eyes had flicked up and away from your face. You watched his eyebrows shoot up in surprise as his pupils shrank in what appeared to be shock. You were just about to ask if he was alright when the distinct smell of burning meat entered your nostrils. You whipped your head around and watched in horror as flames were licking up the side of the pan and smoke began to bellow.

“Awh FUCK!”

You sprint towards the stove at lightning speed and turned the flames off. Without even thinking you grabbed onto the handle of the pan to pull it away from the hot element. It immediately fell from your grasp however as the searing heat had burned your hand and you immediately gasped in pain. The pan and now crispy sausages clattered to the ground as you gripped your tender hand to your chest, eyes shutting tight against the pain and falling to your knees.

You heard a rush of static and felt a draft of wind tickle your skin. Eyes still scrunched in pain, you felt yourself jump when large hands suddenly gripped on your wrists and began pulling them away from your chest. 

“Show me your hand y/n.” 

You felt a wave of embarrassment pour over you. Here you were trying to master his favourite dish, but got too caught up in your silly little fantasy. And now you had ruined it. And in front of him nonetheless. Shame settled in your stomach, making you clutch your burnt hand tighter to your chest. 

“I’m fine Alastor really, I-!”

“That was not a request.” The sternness in his voice caught you off guard. You had never heard him speak to you in such a tone. Your eyes finally opened to see his red claws grasping your wrists. His grip on you tightened.

“Look at me y/n.”

You felt your stomach lurch. You felt so stupid, like a child being scolded by their parent. You couldn’t bare to face him. But you heard your radio in the background fizz and crackle dangerously, and you knew Alastor was losing his patience. Humiliated beyond belief, you finally tilt your head up and dared to peek up.

Alastor’s eyes immediately locked with yours, as if he was watching your face this entire time. His demeanor was surprisingly calm; still wearing his classic smile, but the corners weren’t as high on his face as usual. His gaze on you was strong; unmoving. It almost burned into you more than the burn on your hand. You had to catch your breath.

“I wont say this again.” he warned, his tone still very stern but now quieter as he looked at you. “Show me your hand.”

The last time you had felt so small was when you had accidentally touched his antlers without permission. You weren't scared of him this time, but his eyes still managed to make you quiver on the spot. Finally, you felt your muscles relax and you allowed him to pull your hands away from your chest. In an instant he held your dominant hand in both hands and gingerly turned it over, inspecting the flushed skin that was already beginning to swell. His eyebrows narrowed a moment before he immediately rose to his feet, dragging you up with him. Without a word, he led you to the sink, his grip on your wrist gentle but firm. You stumbled after him and before you knew it, the Radio Demon had turned the water on and dunked your hand under.

You hissed out in pain as the cold seemed to burn you even more. Alastors eyelid twitched at the sound, but you were in too much pain to notice. You both stood there a moment in silence as he gently guided your hand under the water, turning it over and twisting your wrist to insure every burnt part was rinsed. It wouldn’t be until later that you noticed how attentive he was to all of it. 

Turning off the water, the Radio Demon snapped his fingers and a roll of gauze blinked out of thin air. The other hand still holding yours, he began to carefully wrap your palm in the fabric. You flinched ever so often as the gauze grazed over your tender skin, but you couldn’t help but sneak a peek up at your nurse. His face had remained surprisingly calm, his attention focused on the task at hand and unwavering. But you did notice his ears seemed to be pressed to his head, and a single bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. 

Eventually, Alastor delicately tucked the end of the gauze into the wrapping, giving it one last look over before letting you go. His gaze slid up to you, his small smile slowly growing into more of his signature look.

“Fortunately, the damage is minimal given the circumstances. Give it a few days rest with lots of ointment and you’ll recover.”

You lifted it up to eye level and gave it an inspection, surprised to find how neat it was. As if he had done this before. The idea of that both fascinated and worried you. 

“Now tell me my dear, why is it that you were cooking today? Or do you just enjoy setting my kitchen on fire?” His cocky grin spread across his face, already enjoying the opportunity to tease you. You let out a groan of embarrassment, your wrapped hand flapping to your side like a wet noodle.

“Lord have mercy. You’re never going to let me live this down are you?” you whined, already hating yourself for giving him more material to work off of. He cocked his head to the side, absolutely tickled pink by your reactions. 

“Oh, you know I’ll be roasting you about this for weeks~”

Another pained groan escaped your lips. Oh great. Here come the puns. Your uninjured hand rose to pinch the bridge between your eyebrows, trying to calm the rage in your heart, but also to stop you from actually laughing at it all. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. He leaned in even closer so he was face to face with you, his shit-eating grin threatening to crack his face.

“What’s the matter my dear? Can’t handle the heat~?”

Your grip on your arm and bridge tightens. His face inches closer.

“Unfortunately for you, I’m just getting warmed up~”

You could feel your shoulders start to shake. He leaned close enough that his lips were right beside your ear.

“Come now y/n, don't be flame,”

“ALASTOR!” you finally caved and burst into angry laughter, turning away from him in shame and hiding your face as you crack up over his god awful puns. Damnit, you hated how he could make you laugh at your own misery. In a way you were grateful; it was a good distraction from the pain. He always knew how to make you smile, especially if you were upset. Unmoving, Alastor watched you in pure delight as he drank up your laughter, his own chuckle of amusement slipping from his mouth. Finally satisfied, he leaned back up and took in the mess on the ground and other various ingredients in the kitchen island. 

“You never answered my previous question dearest.” Alastor spoke up from behind you, “Why are you cooking jambalaya so early in the day?”

You felt yourself freeze on the spot. Man, nothing got past this man; he was as sharp as ever. 

You felt your shoulders start to tense as heeled boots clicked closer to you. 

“Don’t get me wrong, it is an exquisite meal, but even I would never consider it before 10am.”

You could feel his tall figure looming from behind you, body almost pressed to your back as he closed the distance between you both. You sighed in defeat, knowing you couldn’t talk your way out of this. You shamefully turn around to face him, but refuse to look him in the eye.

“I was trying to perfect the recipe,” you mumbled quietly, feeling yourself fidgeting under his gaze, “It’s just… you’ve done so much for me, and I feel like I haven’t been able to return the favor. I don’t have magic or power or endless resources. So…” your cheeks were starting to turn red, feeling your tongue swell in your mouth, “S-so I figured… if I can cook your favourite meal exactly like your mother… If I could help you to recreate that moment in time… th-then maybe…”

You trailed off, unsure what to say, and feeling smaller than a speck of dust. He must think you’re pathetic. And who could blame him? He was an Overloard; he could eat demons like you for breakfast. You still didn’t understand why he seemingly wanted to spend time with a nobody like you. You knew he was going to laugh at you now. Make fun of you like he always did and tease you about this for weeks to come. You shut your eyes tight with frustration, feeling them begin to burn with tears and preparing to hear his laughter track drone on any minute now.

… But there was silence. 

You paused a moment longer, suddenly uncomfortable in the silence. It was odd, even his usual static that hissed whenever he was around had gone missing. You were just about to dare a peek up at him when you felt a warm, heavy hand on your shoulder. Your head immediately lifted to him, eyes shimmering and maybe a bit hopeful.

He looked at you and didn’t say anything. His grin was still ever present, but it felt loose, wavering. His eyes flicked over yours as his brows furrowed, signaling the look of… Deep thought? Confusion? … Worry? 

Alastor watched you, eyes wet with unshed tears and lip threatening to quiver. Something stirred within him. No one had ever… done something so thoughtful for him. So used to demons making deals with him, only giving so they could take. A soul for power. Or for riches. Or fame. Greed and selfishness was a sickness Alastor was very used to when dealing with others. It was one of the things he despised the most about sinners. And he was no saint either. He knew himself he would take what he wanted, but only if he deemed it necessary to his ascension. His greed was different, as least in his own twisted mind. 

… But you…

After what felt like an eternity, Alastor finally lifted his hand on your shoulder and cupped your face, his other hand reaching to do on the other side. Startled as to what was happening, you gasped softly, feeling your heart begin to hammer against your chest. His smile was warm and genuine, which was honestly a stark difference to his usually sharp features. Eyes hooded and looking down at you in wonder. He even dared to squish your cheeks a couple times, surprisingly making the Radio Demon chuckle in amusement at their suppleness. His warm hands pinched for a moment longer, taking a moment to drink in how soft your cheeks were. How could a previous murderer and cannibal somehow be so innocent? Finally, he opened his mouth to speak, his voice soft as static crackled in the air.

“You never cease to surprise me my dear. What a peculiar little thing you are...”

And without another word, he removed his hands from your face and rose to full attention, striding past you and towards the sink. You blinked back your surprise and dumbly turned to watch as he rolled up his sleeves and turned the faucet on. All you could do was stare numbly as Alastor began to wash his hands, and even began humming softly to himself. As he finished up, he quickly dried his hands and flicked his wrist up, his fingers snapping sharply. An apron suddenly poofed onto his figure; a basic white with ‘Kiss the Cannibal Cook” printed on it.

Turning on his heel, he continued to hum to himself, the radio filter over his voice making it seem sharper than the average hum. But that wasn’t the thing making you tilt your head. It was when he opened the fridge and looked about, as if looking for something in particular. After shuffling a few items around, he finally turned his head to you, eyes still on the fridge and smile absolutely giddy. 

“Tell me y/n, if we had any okra, where would it be~?”

You felt your eyelids blink one at a time as you watched him stupidly, mouth partially open. When you didn’t respond, his pupils finally slid to you and caught your expression. He cocked an eyebrow as his eyelids fell flat.

“Close your mouth dear, it’s not very lady like.”

You click your jaw shut and blink back to reality. He looked at you expectantly, and finally cluing into his question, you responded.

“Oh. Ah. Bottom left hand drawer. Sh-should be in a little plastic bag…” 

Alastors smile brightened as he turned back to the fridge and followed your instruction, a satisfied ‘Ah!’ coming from his mouth before pulling the bag out and closing the refrigerator. As he approached the island, you finally were able to utter the biggest question on your mind.

“Alastor… What are you doing?” 

The Radio Demon stopped humming, turning his head to you as he grabbed a spare knife and cutting board from below. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow as if you just asked the stupidest question in the world.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he remarked, turning back to the okra and began to slice the green plant into thin segments. “If you really thought you could master the recipe without my help, then you are sorely mistaken. Besides,” he lifted his knife to point it at your wrapped hand, eyeing you a moment, “Now that one of your hands is out of commission for the day, it would be against my mother’s teachings to force a woman to cook something for me alone and with only one arm.” 

He turned back to his chopping board and continued to slice.

You watched him a moment longer, processing his words until you felt your heart bloom in your chest. He didn’t laugh. Didn’t tease. Didn’t make you feel small or inadequate. He saw your genuine pain and surprisingly, chose kindness. And even more, chose to help you personally rather than summoning his minions to do the work. You felt a lump in your throat, a different kind of tears threatening to fall down your face. But Alastor didn’t notice, thank goodness, too absorbed in his work.

“My dear,” he began, swiping the sliced okra into a bowl, “Would you pass me the peppers next?”

“O-oh!” you stuttered, quickly wiping your misty eyes with your sleeve, your smile going ear to ear as you rush to the requested veggie, “Of course.”

Between the two of you, you were quite the team in the kitchen. Who would’ve known that Alastor was actually quite the chef himself? He admitted that he loved to cook, of course inspired by his mother, but simply didn’t have the time nowadays with the hotel and Overlord work. You could tell he was being genuine; his dicing skills were remarkable. The speed and precision he had with a knife was impressive (and maybe a little terrifying if you thought about it too hard). But the fond look on his face while he was doing it, that's how you could tell he wasn’t lying about enjoying it. 

While he chopped and diced, you were on saute duty. Alastor was hesitant to give you this task, given how the last batch of sausages ended up… But after lightly smacking his arm with a wooden spoon, the Radio Demon laughed and allowed you near the stove.

... With close supervision that is. 

You collaborated with each other, Alastor explaining his method and you explaining how you made yours. And you were sure somewhere in the middle was the true recipe. The radio continued to play in the background, and out of habit you’d sing along to the songs you knew and Alastor would hum. For one particular song he pulled you in for another quick dance in which you laughed the entire time. But he made sure to deposit you back to the stove quickly, not wanting to recreate the disaster from earlier. While you stirred with your unscathed hand, Alastor would pop up behind you on occasion for a taste test. You’d offer him the spoon and he’d give it a try, comparing the flavor from what he remembered. And if needed, would add more spices or scour the cupboards for something new. 

Finally, after letting it simmer and adding the last remaining garnishes, the jambalaya was ready.

The smell alone was absolutely divine, spices and oils melding together to create a rich aromatic scent. You wiped your sweaty brow in satisfaction as you watched Alastor divvy up two plates and bring them to the island. The dish was a beautiful vermillion colour with fiery red veggies and soft green herbs snuggly tucked away with the sausage, shrimp and rice. You felt your stomach rumble, not realizing how hungry you were having skipped breakfast. You felt the strong urge to just dive in, but you pulled back. You couldn’t eat. Not just yet.

Your eyes slid carefully over to Alastor as he looked at the plate below him, inspecting it with a calculated gaze. He seemed almost… hesitant. But before you could think on it further, the Radio Demon scooped a mouthful up, paused a moment, then took a bite.

He chewed.

Stopped.

Chewed again.

Swallowed.

His head hung over his plate, his bangs covering his face and making it impossible to read his face. There was a heavy pause, the air feeling thick as you waited for his final thoughts. The static around him buzzed louder for a moment then went completely silent. Finally, he raised his head, and his expression almost made you want to weep. His eyebrows were tight and sorrowful, his smile pinched and threatening to tremble. Pupils dilated and never moving from the plate below him. Eventually, his mouth creaked open. 

“This is it.” 

The radio filter over his voice was gone, and that almost floored you. You had never heard his natural voice before, and honestly it was one of the most beautiful sounds you had ever heard. He scooped another spoonful and tasted it again, closing his eyes and sighing to himself with a sense of longing. You had never seen him so at peace. 

Swallowing his previous bite, he looked down at his plate again, eyes drifting over the dish as a low chuckle suddenly began to rumble from his chest. He closed his eyes and shook his head, smiling and eyebrows furled as he hummed about something. And then, he spoke, his radio-like quality returning to his voice.

“You remind me of her.”

It felt like your heart had lurched into your guts at his words. You knew how much she had meant to him. The impact she had on his life, in living and in death. And for him to admit that to you? It made your hands tremble in your lap. Alastor opened his eyes again and looked down, deep in thought.

“There was always music drifting in the air when my mother cooked,” he reminisced, “Jazz music of course; it was in our bloodline. I remember as a boy watching her from the dinner table. She would sing along to the music, and would even pull me in for a dance if a certain song compelled her to.” He chuckled a moment before sighing, tilting his head up with eyes lost in memories gone by.

“Oh, she was a beacon of light and life itself. Always looking out for others, never asking for anything in return. A strong, selfless woman with a heart of gold. The only woman I ever, truly…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, but he didn’t have to for you to understand. Your hand reached for his without a second thought. He flinched at the sudden touch, his eyes shooting open, but eventually you felt his hand relax under your warmth and eyelids soften again. You held his hand tenderly as he continued to stare up at the ceiling, head swimming with fond reminders of the past. Gentle minutes trickled by before you felt the Radio Demon’s hand twist up so it could hold yours tightly. And soon after, he lowered his head and looked straight at you.

“You have given me a gift no one has ever been able to give.” He smiled, his eyes remaining gentle as his scarlet orbs never wavered. You could feel yourself melting under his gaze. He began to lift your hand towards his face, stopping mere inches from his mouth. You could feel your heartbeat quicken. 

“Thank you, mon passereau~” he purred, pupils falling to your hand and pausing for a moment. You could feel his breath on your skin and your heart raced.

He wasn’t going to do what you thought he was… right? 

Finally he lifted your hand up and gently pressed it up to his forehead, like he had done weeks before. You felt a breath escape your noise, from relief or disappointment, you weren’t sure yet. But honestly, what were you expecting? This was Alastor. He wasn’t one for romance or being overly touchy. 

Please, like he would ever kiss your hand. Get it together y/n.

Still, when you focused on him again, a warm smile spread from your lips as you felt the warmth of his forehead and the pinpoint that would be the ‘x’ on his head. This gesture was intimate for him, and that was more than enough for you. And thinking back on the joy and gratitude he showed you earlier… it made you sigh blissfully. You had done it. You achieved your goal of somehow paying him back. And you felt that your relationship with him had only grown stronger with the morning you’d had. With a content smile, you breathed a reply.

“You’re welcome Alastor.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Fun fact: 'Passereau' in French roughly translates to "songbird" ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) Thank you for reading thus far! As always, comments and reblogs are much appreciated; the more encouragement, the more fueled I get to write more (•̀ᴗ•́ )و I eat your delicious words and poop out a story that's hopefully to satisfaction LMAO okok I'm done, gnight folks ꨄ

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[greghatecrimes]

PPTH Gang + What I Think They’d Order At Starbucks, brought to you in incredible and unnecessarily extra detail by a very tired barista!

House: Black eye (black coffee with two shots of espresso), adds his own cream and sugar very sparingly. Occasionally when he’s alone he orders a Caramel Ribbon Crunch frap (guilty pleasure).

Wilson: Grande hot latte with soy milk. He used to order the “skinny vanilla” (latte with skim milk and sugar free vanilla) but stopped because House made fun of him for ordering the white mom drink.

Cuddy: This woman will drink any kind of coffee she can get her hands on in the morning. Even really, really shitty coffee. She just needs something to get through the day. But if she’s got time for Starbucks, I know she’s absolutely getting a tall Brown Sugar Oat Milk Shaken Espresso with two extra shots of espresso (four total). (That is a lot of espresso for a small drink and she needs all of it). She looks so stressed out that the barista draws a smiley face or a star next to her name on the cup, or writes “have a great day!”

Cameron: The Taylor Swift latte. Grande skim latte with caramel. She’s a basic bitch but she knows what she likes, good for her! In the fall she’s 100% a pumpkin spice latte girl and she probably also has the date written on her calendar for when Peppermint Mochas come back in the winter. When asked her name: “It’s Allie, A-L-L-I-E. Thanks!” automatically spells it out to make the barista’s life 3x easier.

Chase: Cameron orders for him because Chase has no idea what the names for anything are. Also likes a good Peppermint Mocha around Christmas (Cameron got him hooked; he stops drinking them after the divorce). Rest of the year he goes for an Americano, iced or hot, with almond milk. His Starbucks name is Bob, which never fails to make Cameron laugh. (Now I’m imagining putting that order out and yelling “ICED AMERICANO FOR BOB!” into a busy cafe and Chase standing there cluelessly like “who? me?” until Cameron nudges him, and I’m laughing my ass off)

Foreman: Regular, plain ol’ black coffee, any kind of dark roast. He adds his own cream very liberally but isn’t a fan of sugar in his coffee.

Thirteen: I spent way too much time thinking of the perfect thing for her. If she just gets coffee at work, just regular decaf coffee is fine. The bitter taste wakes her up since there’s no caffeine. If she wants a nice coffee, I think she’d like a decaf Doppio (two shots of espresso) with a bit of almond milk, one pump of vanilla, and one pump of hazelnut. Hot or iced, but always decaf. Gently but firmly tells the barista to please make sure it’s decaf because she’s “caffeine intolerant” (not wholly a lie. Helps her avoid the caffeine jitters.) Never uses her real name, either gives a random one or just says “Thirteen, like the number” when asked for a name by the barista. Always leaves a tip when she has cash. Orders her drink iced at any time of year if she’s in the mood for it and gets harassed by House for it.

Kutner: Rotates between different superhero names for his Starbucks name (Tony Stark, Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Clint Barton, etc.). Taub wants to melt through the floor every time he gets coffee with Kutner and his order is called out. Kutner thinks it’s hilarious. I really feel like he would be happy with anything you give him, but I think his go to if he’s specifically at Starbucks would be a java chip frap despite the fact that Taub lectures him about it (if he’s gonna treat himself to expensive coffee it may as well taste good!!). Also RIP Kutner you would have loved the Dragon Drink so much (both for the badass name AND the fact that it’s purple)

Taub: Doesn’t go to Starbucks often, probably really only goes with Kutner. Just orders a regular latte or cappuccino. He says he doesn’t see the point of adding in all the flavors and stuff because it’ll just drown out the coffee. Might put some cinnamon on top if there’s a shaker of it on the condiment bar. Would add cinnamon or nutmeg at home if he has the luxury of having a late morning and making his own coffee.

Bonus! Amber: Drinks iced coffee in the middle of a blizzard. Could also down shots of espresso like they’re tequila. The most intense bitch. Would be very visibly tense or stressed when ordering but as soon as her order’s done she’d thank the barista pretty genuinely. Go-to order is a cinnamon dolce latte, no whip but keep the cinnamon dolce powder.

[cecilebutcher]

დStarKid songs I associate with twst boys დ

This is probably the most random one out of all my “songs I associate with twst boys”. But hey, Team StarKid is amazing what can I say～(￣▽￣～)

This is all for shits and giggles. And I did giggle while writing these.

I made this before npmd so no amazing songs from there😔

!!Don’t like,it does nothing. Reblog instesd!!

Characters: all the nrc students + some of my oc’s

Riddle Rosehearts: California MIA

“My mom's a bitch. An alcoholic. A melancholic. That we keep afloat. It's time to flip the switch. When the problem's chronic. Not being hyperbolic. But it's time to ghost”

Trey Clover: cup of roasted coffee

“Get your cup of roasted coffee. Your morning cup of Joey. We'll make a jamming cup of java. Mocha latte with the froth for you, Jack. Frappuccino with the freshly roasted mung beans. It's a caramel drizzle mud in a cup. With a drip, drip, drip-drip, drip. And we'll bring it right up”

Cater Diamond: deck the halls(of northville high)

“Can't wait. Deck the halls on high. Deck up Northville High School. Carol in the halls. Rising with the tide yule. Orient like kings. See what winter brings for your. Northville mistletoe”

Ace Trappola: join us (and die)

“Sorry to interrupt. But we got bones to pluck. The time for chaos is long past overdue. Death isn't optional. In fact it’s optimal. Your time is up. And now we go through you. We tried to convince you. In soliloquy. But now we'll kill you. With more than harmony! Just die”

Deuce Spade: show me your hands

“Ma'am, I need you to take a step back. You're facing the law, not the clerk at The Gap. Yeah, we're cops. Yeah, we're cops. You'd better shape on up. You better empty out all of them pockets. But don't empty out all of them pockets. Yeah, we're cops. Yeah, we're cops. And we make sense”

Leona Kingscholar: we got work to do

“I don't really wanna do the work today. I don't really wanna do the work today. I don't really wanna do the work today. I don't wanna do the work today”

Ruggie Bucchi: i steal everything

“Did you know in this barbaric country. They only give you money if you work. Thanks, but no thanks, the man. I'll keep stealing all I can. Instead of being a fascist yuppie jerk”

Jack Howl: happy ending

“I'll be treated like a hero. All the citizens adore. They'll throw a parade in my honor. With peacocks and monkeys galore. The people will cheer. For the royal vizier. For answering duty's call”

Azul Ashengrotto: our doors are open

“We'll gladly give you money. I'll gladly take your money now. I want the doll with the tummy. Oh, don't we all and here is how you get. The very thing you want. The highest of holidays. Comes but once a year. I'm not talking 'bout the fat man and his reindeer. It's the crème brûlée. Following turkey day”

Jade Leech: you tied up my heart

“I'm tied up, Charlotte. Tied up with you. You understand me. Now hand me those keys. The keys to my youth. God, we were young once. Innocent and fun once. And free. Let go of this grip on me. You tied up my heart. You tied me down. Now break me open. With your love and mercy”

Floyd Leech: tickle me wiggly

“He's a wiggly snig. And a sniggly wiggly (Yeah!) A fwendy-wend. That makes you giggly! He's an underwater creature from outta this world. A bestest fwendy-wend. To all the boys and girls! He's a wiggly wig. And a snuggle poo. And a wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle. Wiggle wiggle wiggle with you”

Kalim Al-Asim: cup of poisoned coffee

“Get your cup of poisoned coffee. Your toxic cup of Joey! We'll make a twisted cup of java mocha latte with the goo for you Jack. Jack, Jack, Jack! Hey, Mr. Business. How do you. How do you. How do you do?”

Jamil Viper: no one remembers achmend

“So to restore my repute. As a fierce fearsome brute, There's only one route I see. Arrange the slaughter of millions. Of innocent civilians. Then they'll remember me”

Vil Shoenheit: take me back

“Take me back in time to love you. Take me back when we were lost. Lost in love and lost in feeling. Without the cost. Take me back in time to high school. Take me back when things were light. Light my heart and light my shadow. And make it alright. Cause I already lost it once. What I already won”

Rook Hunt: Show stopping number

“A show stoppin' number. Is something you die for. A real catchy, earwormy tune. An award-winning score. That seeps in and out of your pores. A ditty to make the chorus girls swoon. It'll unify humanity in a thundering chorus. No exits from this Broadway venue. So splash those shiny cymbals. Got a show stoppin' hymnal for you”

Epel Felmier: final (a thousand and one nights reprise)

“A thousand and one lifetimes is not enough to spend. At last we have a story with no end. Let this be a story with no end...”

Idia Shroud: the golden rule (evil reprise)

“I follow the golden rule. How can a man resist. When the gold in his hand. Lets him rule the land. With an iron fist. I follow the golden rule. It's either them or me. The gold that my neighbor. Earns through his labor. Is gold I'll never see. Who has the gold makes all the rules. So he wins the game and then. The prize for winning?”

Ortho Shroud: sands of time- golden rule

“Follow the golden rule. For life's a two-way street. Keep that in mind. And you'll be kind. To everyone you meet! Follow the golden rule. It isn't hard to do. Always treat others like sisters and brothers. And they'll do the same for you. Before you harm your fellow man. Ask this question first: How would you wish that he treat you. If your fortunes were reversed?”

Malleus Draconia: dream a little harder

“Why don't we have enough to eat? Why are we dying in the street? Why does my baby always cry? Why did my mommy have to die? Mine too. Mine too. Mine too, Mine too, Mine too! The answer here is crystal clear. Jafar, that ugly old Vizier. He's the reason for our many woes”

Lilia Vanrouge: twisted

“What remains of a man when that man is dead and gone? Only memories and stories of his deeds will linger on. But if a man's accomplishments aren't in the tale they tell. Are the deeds that go unheralded his legacy as well? If a war breaks out tomorrow, we'll all have Hell to pay. Why protect my reputation? I'm a dead man either way. How will they tell my story? How will they tell my tale? Will anybody even care?”

Silver (Vanrouge): not your seed

“You left me out of your sight for one second. And look what happens, nightmare time. It's worse than you could imagine. Not sex and not drugs. Just alien invading minds. No more family vacays together. 'Cause your only daughter's under the weather. And if you actually paid attention to me”

Sebek Zigvolt: wiggle

“I hear his voice. I feel his power. I see his kingdom and his plans. Laid out for me. Oh, he's mine, mine, mine. To follow his orders. Oh, it's my, my monument to build. He will wiggle, wiggle. Wiggly will wiggle tonight. Oh He will wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle his way into life”

“Oc’s”

Ibhana “Vesper” Baske: Adore me

“I will destroy everything. And then I will destroy everything. I'll guarantee I'll destroy everything. In my path. Unless I get what I - Shit, it's Gerald. I will destroy everything. And then I will destroy everything. (Alright, keep going, don't say the shit part) I'll guarantee I'll destroy everything. (Alright, that's good, don't say the shit part) In my path. Unless I get what I shit”

Tao Yúchi: everything and more

“I want the moon. I want to live on the moon. And eat it in a pie. And keep it as a pet. And wear it like a gemstone in my hair. And someday soon. The people who say I'm just dreaming. Like father and Ja'far. Will see how wrong they are. As I laugh in their faces through mouthfuls of moonbeam pie”

Igor Kazentoc: the guy who didn’t like musicals

“In the tiny town of Hatchetfield. Lived an awful grinch named Paul. Spends his day surfing the web. And not singing and dancing with us all. Should we kill him? Should we kill him? Oh, he pines after a cute lil' barista. Isn’t that worth a show-stopping fiesta, yeah? But for some damn reason. He won’t join our singing season. What an ass! What a bitch! What a cuck!”

Junto Shuisha: La dee dah dah day

“Sometimes I just wanna shout. On top of roof and mountain tops. All the world is paved in gold. Yesterday is retroactive. Got myself a new perspective. I strut it up and down the road. So I throw out my worries. And my old skin away. Doing what I want to. On this la dee dah dah day!”

Jasper Spade: Black Friday

“Is this what I lived for? To be choked in a toy store. While staring into hell. There's something that's beautiful. Being awake for my funeral. You can close the casket now. The plans for my father's hopeless seed. Born into moral poverty. Still, I wasn't the angel heaven sent. To break through my cliché boundaries”

Najih Al-Amin: feast or famine

“You never should settle for the lifetime that is handed to you. There's always a line to be cut and someone to barrel through. And if you should find that you're about to get the short of the stick. Take what you want. Return what you get”

Aikat Spanos: Backfire

“What if I tried something new. And it— Backfired! What if I did something more. And it— Backfired! You made a Schwoopsie... You burned down the village... You killed all the mammoths... You poisoned the water... You lost my Grant... Chorn... Okay, okay, okay! Geez Chorn, I get it”

Phobes Spanos: a thousand and one nights

“I want to know your story. I want to know your past. So tell me slowly from the start. Leave out no detail. Savour every part. I want to know your story. So make the story last. I want to know each twist and turn. Tell me all I've missed. I've so much to learn”

“BONUS”

Grim: Wagon on fire

“Your wagon is on fire. Your wagon is aflame. Your wagon is on fire. It’ll never be the same”

All of these songs are part of musicals, go watch them, they are amazing(and stupidly funny) this is for shits and giggles btw, don’t take it seriously, please T^T

(Also, did I give Kalim a song about poison for the irony of his life? Yes. Did I give silver a song about a father daughter angst relationship for angst? Also yes)

!!requests are open!!

comments are more than appreciated. but reblogs help the content reach more people so please reblog if you want to like<3 likes do nothing. Seriously, don’t like, reblog.

[mourningmax]

@microcest Prompt: “Shhh…Don’t Let Mom Hear”

Fandom: Harry Potter

Ship: Regulus Black/Sirius Black

Sirius unplugged the machine only a second after the last drop of coffee dripped into the pot, avoiding the distinct beep that was sure to wake their parents down the hall. It wouldn’t be the first time he and Regulus were caught making a midnight brew after spending the evening in Sirius’s bed; Regulus writing on his laptop while Sirius drew, both in total silence. Words came easier when he was in a previously foreign bed surrounded by his scent, not to mention how warm he seemed to run despite the hospital cold environment Walburga liked to keep. Recently he’s grown more comfortable nestling up against the heat, the longer they were in their creative throes, the farther into his lap he’d find himself.

Sometimes he’d peek over at what Sirius was doing and he would do the same to him, and they’d silently laugh when they caught the other in the middle of creating something dirty.

“Just a commission,” they’d say because it was a bit strange to be working on a piece of that nature with your brother just a foot away. But it didn’t faze them, at least not anymore.

They were leaning on opposite counters, parallel to each other within an arm’s length, and smirking into their successfully sneaked cups of coffee. Sirius hadn’t bought creamer, usually he’d take it so sugary the flavor would stick to the back of your tongue and leave an artificial taste. Regulus preferred a more measured amount. But tonight they were measuring the other's reaction to their black cups of java, smirking over the rims of their mugs.

The only light was Sirius’s phone face down on the counter with the flashlight on, casting them eerily. In sync, they tipped their heads back.

It wasn’t half-bad Regulus thought, glad he’d bought a light roast when he and Sirius went shopping. Sirius on the other hand sputtered back into his cup, the drama queen he was.

Regulus stifled a laugh at the drops that escaped his lips, blotting his already dirty sleep shirt. “Shhh.”

“That’s horrid!” He whisper-yelled, scraping the taste off his tongue with his front teeth.

“It’s not that bad.” Regulus took another sip and grimaced, “It’s a little bad.”

“Yuck.” Sirius reached his hand back to pour it in the sink, coffee would have to wait until morning when he’d drag Regulus out of bed to accompany him to the corner store. “Back to my room?” He reached out a hand to do the same to Regulus’s who gave it one last try before shaking his head and conceding. It went down the drain with a gurgle.

He followed Sirius’s back and the light of his phone, which he shut off and slipped into his pocket once they passed the threshold to the kitchen not wanting the wandering light to slip under their parent's bedroom door.

Regulus shamelessly checked out his backside in his flannel pajama pants, the epitome of a grimy older brother, one that spends way too much time hunched over his tablet. He still had on that dorky little glove he wears to draw, but while he takes note of this he doesn’t notice the other hand is coming at him in the darkness, and arms are circling him. One runs vertically over his chest and the other comes out from under his arm and over his mouth, almost too tight over his nose.

In his confusion, he fights against them for a moment, Sirius walks him backward to the kitchen and presses his front to the counter. His hips give to bending a little forward as he leans over him. Regulus makes a muffled noise that Sirius strangles down with the tightening of his hand, and that’s when Regulus hears the toilet flush and goes stock still.

It could be either one of their parents, and neither of them wants to find out. Once Sirius knows Regulus will stay quiet he loosens his grip but does not remove either hand, Regulus’s hands grip the one across his middle as he hopes the late-night wanderer doesn’t go for a glass of water.

They hear the distinct sound of their mother clearing her throat, which doesn’t help at all. Orion would tell them off and send them to bed, Walburga would take every device they’ve got for the rest of the week and neither of them needed her to see the tabs they'd left open.

She’s taking longer than expected, and Regulus is strung up in his brother's arms in the darkness, his eyes unseeing and every touch amplified by the sensory deprivation. He can't help but feel the bulge so neatly pressed between his cheeks between the thin fabric of their pants. He startles himself with the thought, and unconsciously goes to move away from it but finds he has nowhere to go, being made to wriggle against it. Sirius gasps behind him. A drawer he’s pressed against rattles lightly.

“Stop moving.” Sirius hisses into his ear, closing in on him further. But Regulus can hardly breathe, he moves his hands up to try to pry the fingers off his nose and mouth, and Sirius only lifts them enough to allow his mouth to open underneath. Unsatisfied he does what any younger brother would do and licks his palm in hopes of encouraging him to drop it all together.

Sirius’s hips twitch upward, slotting himself further in the ditch under his ass and between his thighs. Regulus is up on his toes, trying to maintain some form of decency, but when his calves give with the shock he’s lowering himself onto Sirius, involuntarily making the boy behind him rut up his behind. Now he’s glad Sirius’s hand is over his mouth because his lips part at the form of his brother nudging a bit more swollenly against the small of his back.

They hear the sink turn on in the bathroom, and with their fine-tuned ears from living like mice in this house they can tell the water doesn’t hit the bottom of the sink, instead, it fills up the cup their mother keeps for rinsing her mouth and taking her sleeping pill with.

Regulus’s lips curl away against his brother's palm when he bites the plumper flesh under his thumb, he can hear and feel Sirius’s mouth drop behind his ear, spit catching in the back of his throat, and a hot breath sounding like a jet engine when it’s poured direct into his ear canal.

The cock against him gives a languid dirty pulse, the flexing of Sirius’s thighs coupled with it. Regulus throws all caution to the wind and licks his palm again, pushing back against Sirius, and this time he bucks up into him. They hear the sink cabinet open and close.

They begin to writhe together, Regulus is crushed against the counter as Sirius dwarfs him in stature and size, and he drops his hands to place them firmly against the countertop. The breathing from his nose comes out a bit frantic and strangled in the silence, so he stops altogether. Pleased with his compliance Sirius finally drops his hands and to his delight, they curl around his hip bones pulling him back to slot himself against his cheeks once more.

Surely this didn’t count if they didn’t say a word, and if they did it in the pitch-black darkness where nobody could hear or see them.

When fingers dug into the tender center between his hips he made a small noise behind his closed lips.

“Shhh…Mom will hear.” Came from behind in the darkness, right under his earlobe. If Sirius wanted him to be quiet, he really shouldn’t have tugged on it with his teeth directly after. He wonders if it was a habit, he clenches his teeth to keep silent, on a mission to find out more of his brother’s tricks.

Then he stares into the void blindly with wide eyes at the lock clicking, and the door to the bathroom opens. Maybe she had heard them after all, it’s safe to say both of their stomachs dropped into the void too with the noise.

Footstep, footstep, footstep…They can hear the metal jingle of her hand being placed on the doorknob to the master bedroom. Yet, she stops. She’s listening. Their blood comes to a halt in their veins lest she heard that too. Footstep, footstep, slam!

She carelessly shuts the door, seeing as her sleep is the only one of worth in this house anyway. Any other night the two brothers would have slept right through it or listened from Sirius’s bed. Tonight, it’s their indication to make a break for Sirius’s room.

While Sirius lifts his door on its hinges and shuts it silently, Regulus crawls back into his bed, looking for a pillow to hug as if he wasn’t using it to cover his crotch.

His brother crosses the room and with the hand still wet with Regulus’s spit he clamps it over his mouth once more, stifling the yelp escaping his little brother's mouth.

“Come here.” He says lowly with a wicked look, and that gloved hand wraps around his ankle and pulls slotting their hips back together like they were meant to be.

[daddysgirl77]

Ah, coffee in the morning. It's a ritual that many of us can relate to - and one that I'm sure my dad knows all too well! He's been making me coffee for years now, so you could say he really knows how I like it.

I don't know what kind of magic he works when preparing my cup o' joe every morning; whether it be the perfect amount of cream or sugar (or both!), but whatever it is, Dad has got this process down pat! Nothing beats starting off your day with a delicious cup of hot java made just the way you like it.

So here's to dads everywhere who take time out each morning to make their kids feel special by crafting up some perfectly brewed caffeine goodness - cheers!

[infected-paul]

Hmm.. Mmhmmm..

Get your cup of roasted coffee!

Good morning cuppa joey-..

Agh f*ck why do i keep singing that

~ We'll make a jamming cup of java mocha latte with the froth for you, Jack! ~

I love that song!!! You should keep singing it!

[superheroauthor]

I’m Alive!

Sparky The Superhero’s Story

Chapter Three – Hunting the Vampyre

(Part 2 The Very Bad Dog)

Jack Sprat could eat no fat. His wife could eat no lean. But, together both, They licked the platter clean

            Historical, Great Earth

   The cab pulled up outside the railway station, the horses in a lather. Even in the late morning the steam from the trains was making the fog denser. You could hardly see five feet in front of you. The sun was battling the smog and losing.

   “That will be five shillings, guvnor.”

   I got out of the cab. I could see the hopeful look on his face. It was a try on. I did not use cabs often, they were expensive. On the other hand, they were quick and anonymous too. The driver would not remember me. Unless I made it so.

   “Huh, here is half a crown and a sixpenny tip,” I told him, offering up three shillings instead of the five.

   He winked at me.

   “Had to try it on. You could have been one of those rich accountants.”

   I don’t think he was looking at me. Just my clothes. He had sized up the price of the fare from the looks of me, not how far we had travelled.

   I walked into the station, a truly massive building that once might have been beautiful. It was said to have been the first railway station ever on the planet of Clock.

   Marble pillars, a grand archway, waiting rooms for the different sorts of peoples. All now though were black with smut and smoke from the steam engines. Even the train tracks were covered in smut. Those I could see through the smog.

   I counted to twenty and walked out. There were cabs here but he was gone. Whether he had caught an immediate fare or was going back to the Bankside for richer pickings I did not care. He was gone and that was all that mattered.

   I came out of the station and I went into the café. It hid in a midst of a street of soot black houses. It was half full.

   There, her arse gloriously overhanging her seat was the lady who I would dream of tonight. My partner in crime. She was singing a bawdy song about a woman and several sailors.

   I went up to the counter. Tucus saw me and light came to his eyes and a little smile.

   “What is going on with her?” I nodded backwards.

   “Oh, you mean the great big fat lady . . .” I stared at him and he knew he had misspoken. “I mean the lady with the curves? She came in wanting a Roo pie and booze. I keep a bottle under the counter.”

   He showed it to me. Ogre Strength gin. That stuff was evil. Drink the whole bottle and you would not get your sight back for two days. Drink two and maybe go blind.

   It was back streets gin. The makers would get five stills that worked by clockwork magic and put them in a house. All you had to do was pipe water in and then fill the tray above with the ingredients. After an hour the machine would be ready for you to turn the tap and fill the bottles.

   There were two problems, though. The first was you had to take good care of the machines. They operated at intense pressure, being a still of sorts. Also you had to let the steam off or the pressure would built up even higher. If you didn’t maintain the machine or let off the steam, the machine blew up. One of those machines could wreck a whole room when they blew and would could serious injury to anyone in it.

   The second problem was the gin was near enough pure alcohol with any flavourings you added to the ingredients. It was strong enough to be dangerous to imbibe.

   However, there was a massive demand for it and it was incredibly cheap to make. A bottle would be sold for tuppence. That is ten good shots of gin for two pennies. Down the public house it was a penny a shot for gin that was only slightly better in quality. Slightly better flavour covering the fact it was watered down back streets gin.

   Apart from one or two in the café, the lady’s rendition of ‘All The Sailors In The Port’ was going down well. Half the customers were singing along with her.

   Tucus pushed a cup of strong java over to me as I watched her. From the house I had the silver stake and the collar. I remembered the information about the tram ticket so did not need that.

   “Hey! There he is . . .” and the singing stopped. Hers did anyway, some of the rest of the customers chorused on for a few bars and then stopped. All eyes were on me now. “My tiny little baby doll.”

   Me? A tiny little baby doll? A huge eruption of laughter went through the room, maybe at the expression on my face.

   “I would fuck you but you are so skinny I think you would snap!” she cried out, way too loudly.

   I flicked a gold sovereign up through the air and, as it span, the eyes of the café went to that. A whole sovereign, twenty shillings. This was Whitechapter, a poor area. A man could work weeks, maybe months for a golden pound coin.

   A hush had descended over the room so closely that you could heard a washer drop.

   “So, you don’t want to come back to my place then?” I asked and whispers started.

   She looked at me once, squinting. Some recollection must have come back to her as she let out a giggle.

   “You just want to bone me. Make the beast with the two backs.”

   Maybe no recollection, just drunken lust.

   “Not tonight.”

   “You don’t fancy me? You think I’m too fat.” Her fists bunched, her whole body went taut, ready to fight.

   “I don’t even know your name but to me you are the most gorgeous creature in the world. Who would want a skinny woman compared to a woman with curves?”

   It took a second, maybe a few seconds. I had not said it succinctly enough for her. She was pissed, it took those seconds to catch up.

   “Really?”

   “You don’t know you are luscious and desirable?” I asked, keeping it short.

   “I know! It is just the rest of this world who don’t!”

   “I am going back to my room.” I paused. “I like you.” Another pause. “I just want to talk.” Silence. “Tonight.” The whole café was staring right at me again, some shaking their heads. “If you want to talk more, you will have to know where I live.”

   She thought it out but now all of the café was getting involved, some urging her to go with me, others warning her it was a trap. A couple of the customers saying sex before marriage was just wrong.

   “Just talk,” I told her and left the café.

   She caught up with me twenty paces outside, huffing and puffing as she hurried to keep up with me.

   “Keep walking. We’ll be followed. Take the alley down here and to the right.”

   “Why?”

   “I am going to be mugged. I showed hard cash in the wrong place.”

   “Don’t worry, this girl can fight. Fuck me gently, you should see my speciality move.”

   I wish she had not said that. In this life, I was a virgin. I had only been alive about a year and had no real interest in women, just getting back at the Creators and destroying their minions and abominations.

   It was not like when I was a virgin in my real life, when I was an inventor helping out the mechaniks. That had been a raw feeling. I had hated being a virgin. Desperate to have sex. Frantic to know what lovemaking was like. Feeling ashamed for being a virgin when all my friends were not. Not realising they were lying about their conquests and that they were virgins too.

   This time it was different. Yes, I did want her. Sex. Maybe. However I wanted that to be just the start. I wanted everything with this woman. With this luscious female, I wanted to fall in love and live happily ever after and I had only met her this day.

   Sex without romance, you ask?

   I am not a person, see. Actually, I am lots of people, men and women. That is not the point, though. There is no romance in my soul. I feel less than a normal human does.

   Some may call me a monster and I might just be that.

   “When we get to the alley you go out in front, get to the other end as fast as possible. That will be the safest place to be.”

   She did as bid. I heard a low whistle as she passed the half way mark. It was Shunt, a street rat. He sometimes foraged the bins in the alleys. He was warning me he saw something. He was going through a bin right now but was totally aware of what was going on around him

   All too soon it became clear. An attacker at either end of the alley.

   The attacker my end looked around, he could not see me. He could see the street rat, he could see the lady engaging the other mugger but he could not see me. He raced for the street rat. They are the eyes of the city. He would know where I was at and with a little persuasion, he would give me up.

   As he passed me, I came out of the shadows. The cosh hit him in the back of the head, sparks flying. I had not hit him too hard. This was not a professional mugger. This was a local on the lookout for the main chance. A way of maybe getting out of the slums.

   He would not be getting up for five minutes. The cosh was like that. Knocked someone unconscious or stunned them. With the magic added it would knock them out every time.

   I was expecting the lady to be in trouble but she was not. She laying on top of her opponent and her left hand was slamming the wooden stake into his side, time after time.

   As I passed the street urchin I dropped a shilling, one, two, three. Three shillings would be enough to feed him for a while, maybe get him board and lodgings if he wanted it. I could have dropped him a sovereign but that would have only got him killed.

   “Thanks, Sparky,” came the whisper.

   When I got to her, my lady, I stopped her hand and gave her a hand to get up.

   “Oh, I have killed him!” She burst into tears.

   I took his hand and felt for a pulse.

   “No, he is alive. You beat him up bad but he will survive.”

   She looked so grateful to me for finding this out, even though I was lying. Humans find killing difficult. It messes with their heads. Better for this buxom beauty not to know she had just savagely topped a man.

   I got her a street away and looked her up and down. Beautiful yes, but with blood on her dress. Could not do much about that. My clothes might fit her but they were in my room. I told her to go to my front door and knock. “When the landlady opens the door give her this sovereign and tell her it is for Sparky’s rent. That will put her in a good mood and she will show you up to my room. Knock once every minute, so I know you are there. I will then open the door for you.”

   She asked why I was not going to go through the front door with me. I just smiled and was off.

   When I checked the room, all my security measures were in place. I heard a knock. I took the bolt out of the crossbow and fired it to loosen the tension on the string. I then opened the door.

   She gave me a little piece of paper and pushed past me into the room, looking at everything with great curiously. I examined the bit of paper. It was a receipt for one pound from the landlady to be deducted from future rent.

   My lady, or that is what I hope for, was walking around the room picking things up, looking at my clothes. She even examined the crossbow and took it down from its hooks and sighted it, probably wanting such an item.

   I have to say, I ignored her. Just for a bit. I took out the silver stake. Looked normal to me. The silver collar though, I could not understand. It held no strings and could not be used a throwing weapon.

   I took out the tiny globe again and it radiated magic all around the collar and then fiercely at one point. There, almost imperceptible, was a tiny stud.

   “Sit down and I will tell you what I have learned.” She just stared. I think she was sobering up but maybe she did not trust me yet . . . and that was fair.

   I too, did not trust people easily.

   In my line, hunter/killer, you had to be careful. There was already a hundred-pound bounty on my head, capture only. That was a truly massive amount, you could buy a street of slum properties with that sort of money. Not a big street but you could.

   All the Creators wanted to see what made me tick, literally. Most of them thought I was alive using clockwork magic, which was not true. There was no clockwork in me. My own Creator, Doctor Gory, wanted me back to examine me. She had never made a living creature from a dead one before or since.

   “The lady who had these items was a Vampyre hunter.”

   “Like me?” The woman asked.

   “Before we go on. What is your name.”

   “You are Sparky, I am Avalonia. Most people call me Ava,” she said simply. I think she was more trusting since I said the other, the murdered woman, was a hunter of Vampryes.

   “Well, Ava, I think this woman took the drug Eternity and became in her own mind, a Goddess. She was hunting creatures as a Goddess. Normally on Eternity, the users still do mundane things from their previous life. Work, clean, eat, sleep. This is so the body of the user does not die. Like with that drug last year that the Cult of the Green Earth people were taking, Ambrosia.”

   She was still staring. I was starting to think I had done something wrong.

   “Once they took that, they were running through fields, at one with the earth, a part of the planet. Everything was beautiful in the worlds they went to, when taking that drug. It only lasted an hour though. After that they needed another fix. They would do anything for another fix. Give their body to another for sexual purpose, however depraved, steal, even kill. What they did not do is eat. The urge to get another dose overrode the body’s signals saying they needed food. Unless someone else fed them while they were tripping, they usually died.”

   “So, this drug factors that in. Makes them do the things the body needs. That is marvellous because this is a one dose drug,” she affirmed.

   “Yes, it is a synthetic drug. I think it was made by the drug barons up in Dee. It must have taken a lot of time to carefully make such a special drug.”

   “You said they normally do mundane tasks, is Zelda doing things differently?” Her voice was breathy, a single strand of her hair was straying from under her hat in a most delightful fashion.

   Zelda? Ah, that was the name of the victim.

   “From her dreamworld on the intoxicant, she has given her normal self a hobby of hunting creatures, probably the same creatures she is hunting as a Goddess. It might have given her Goddess-self more information on the creatures to be hunted and how to slay them.”

   “Or,” Ava interrupted, pushing the hair back under the hat, “or what she is doing in her dreamworld is so important to her it is bleeding into her own world, giving the body a hobby.”

   “Hey, I like that. Good thinking.” It was good thinking, a different way of thinking to mine. “The fact remains she knows the difference between creatures of the undead. She is hunting Vampyres not vampires.”

   She just stared at me as if I was pissed.

   “I must explain. There are many types of vampires. The different types come from all the myths about their kind on other worlds. In this case it is vampire spelt with a Y instead of an I. In the original myth there were half vampire and half human. The ones on this world however are made out of live humans. This type are weaker than normal vamps. What tells me that . . . Zelda was hunting this type, is the silver. Vampyres with a Y hate silver. It is one of their weaknesses.”

   “Don’t all vampires hate silver? It burns them.”

   “That is supposedly because it is a pure metal, very pure. I am not sure that is true but it does a lot of damage to this type of vampire. True vampires on this world hate gold, again supposedly the purest of metals.”

   “Ah, now I get it. What with the silver stake and collar, it must be that sort of vampire she was hunting. But how do we know that this vampire is that sort. The one who killed her and the others?”

   “Mutilation. Normal vampires bite to feed. They half drain their victim of blood and leave. They were made by almost killing them and then weaning them onto blood to bring them back to full life. The sort of vampire she was hunting has been made insane by violence until they are nearly dead and then had blood poured into their bellies by a hose through the mouth. They, like their Creators, are insane. They find a victim, mutilate them, drink half their blood and go back to their den. After committing an act of hideous violence their thoughts are calmed, at least for a while. About a week. After that the insane thoughts of carnage come back to them and they cannot help but commit another atrocity. It is a cycle of madness and brutality.”

   “It was a week between each attack . . .” She was looking at me as if I was Godlike. Her breathing was hard and heavy, her bosom rising and falling in the bodice of that dress.

   “A silver stake thrust at their chest and pushed in will bleed them to death.” I passed her the metal stake. “If it touches their heart they will explode into dust. If they are bled to death, by taking a limb, their body crumbles leaving only bones with strips of gristly flesh. Zelda had this silver collar. I thought at first you threw it at the Vampyre. Once it went around the neck of a such a creature, the neck would vanish into dust and the rest of the body would die. It is not such a device after all, not like a noose or lariat that needs skills to use. Instead, it is simply thrown and it will close around the throat of the nearest creature. It will do no harm to a human but to a werewolf or a vampire of the type we are hunting it will kill them instantly.”

   “So, we have clues now,” she said, reclining on my bed. “It is the same sort of vampire . . . but nothing more.”

   I laid the last fact out carefully for Ava: “The ticket. Why was it special? It was recent and a person on Eternity would not have special items, just mundane tasks. I think Zelda had found the creature’s lair and so she was killed.”

   My final explanation was to no avail. She was fast asleep.

   The next day we got a tram. I had slept on the floor. I did like a large lass but my bed was not broad and she had taken it all up by herself. Sleeping on the floor made no difference to me though. I had slept on the hard ground many a time, during my escape.

   It had been worth it. To see her hair in the morning, great blonde tresses, wonderful to behold.

   Our destination was to be Finch Green. When we arrived, Ava looked at me as if I knew exactly where to go. I looked around. I had never been here before although I had heard descriptions of the place.

   It was all housing, nothing more. A shop here and there to service the houses, a café every few streets.

   “Go north.” I finally understood.

   You see a Vampyre’s den or nest would be in squalor. It would have a cellar for hiding in during the day. All vampires hated sunlight, whatever the breed. In the daytime they would sleep with their halfbloods. The men and women they had turned. Another weaker form of vampire but one that would follow the traits of its master. A vampire halfblood could go out in the light but tended to stay close to the maker and act as their makers did.

   So a Vampyre halfblood would hate silver and a normal vampire halfblood would hate gold.

   There were no slums in Finch Green. They were all nice semi-detached houses. They did not have gardens. That would be an extravagance with the amount of room in the city. Only rich people had gardens and then only little ones.

   We walked north until we reached the boundary of the city.

   “What is your line?” I asked of Ava, enquiring about her employment.

   “I am a battery,” was her simple reply.

   “You are a what?”

   “A battery, a magic battery. When mechaniks use charged tools, they ask me to help. When the tools lose their power, I recharge them. The same for spells and spellcasters. I get a lot of work with the Cult of the Green Earth. They cast spells or think they do. Casting spells means using up a lot of energy in a person’s body. I recharge that energy. I also recharge items when they have run down.”

   “I use ‘tricity,” I confided in her. I thought it safe. She was hunting with me. “My hunting skills are with lightning weapons. I am an inventor too. The things I have invented need sparks or lightning or ‘tricity to make them work?”

   “Do you do sinus? Are you one of the sinus-tists?” She was breathing heavily again and I did not think it was the walk. She was getting excited.

   “At the moment I use clockwork magic and steam. I am as good as a mechanik. To do sinus I would have to see their inventions of designs and diagrams. They are lost to us now. They went down with The Ark.”

   “Some of the Creators are supposed to use sinus,” she breathed. “They can use ‘tricity like you.”

   I had heard of only one that used that. Doctor Gory, my maker. Oh, she used ‘tricity all right. It had run through my brain for months, maybe even years.

   There it was! Past the border of the city.

   The border was not a wall or a dome or anything like that. It was a simple line. Past that line, about a mile was a castle.

   “We can’t get to that. We cross the line and we are in the wilderness. That’s where the Veterans live.” She was fearful and rightfully so. The Veterans were the wild folk that had not been picked by the punkawathas for learning to be city folk.

   I could understand her nervousness. No city person wanted to risk going outside.

   The Veterans were savage hunter/gatherers. They were not scared of the wild beasts nor even the abominations like the werewolves. The Veterans had descended from the warriors of the Ark, the armed forces that were supposed to protect the sinus-tists. Or so the myth says.

   Not only were the Veterans out there, there was all manner of beasts, natural and unnatural. I had met some when fighting werewolves or zombies or gargoyles. I had met Veterans too but I was just as tough as them.

   They called me The Vampire Hunter from back when I chased down and killed Godfrey the Ancient. He was not that ancient, about two hundred years old. The first one created by Otto the Bloodthirsty.

   Godfrey had outlived his Creator master and had been hunting the villages for food, drinking deep of any females he found. Godfrey only took women’s blood, never males. He turned a few into halfbloods. Those were the first I killed. This seemed to upset Godfrey for some reason.

   After that he was hunting me and I was hunting him. It was like a dance, both of us circling the other, trying to get an advantage.

   I had killed Godfrey eventually. I had used a woman as bait.

   Don’t look at me like that!

   Godfrey did not kill women. Vampires do not drink more than half a victim’s blood. Drinking it all kills a vampire. The young greedy vampires do not last long. When a vampire drinks too deep and the victims die so does the vampire.

   He killed males that threatened him but he had never killed a woman. The worse he had done was make them, turn them into halfblood vampires.

   The woman did not mind being bait either when I explained. I gave her a sack of tung beans for doing it.

   That night, she slowly walked out of her village and sat down with her back to the tree at the cross-paths. Godfrey had descended upon her like an ogre on a goblin. He drank his fill and, all the while, the woman had not made one noise.

   When he saw me, he tried to move but he could only do so sluggishly. The woman had drunk guano juice and it was in her bloodstream when the vampire drank. He wobbled, he tried to turn and nearly fell. He raised an arm which was annoying. It got in the way of my sword play and ended up with his arm getting cut off.

   I had been going for the beheading but I found this was just as good. Blood pumping furiously out of the stump where his arm had been. I could have beheaded him right there and then but there was no need.

   In seconds he died and his flesh fell away from his body. The flesh was turning into dust as it broke away from his body. In less than a minute the only thing remaining was a bleached skeleton.

   “We cannot cross. It would be suicide,” I heard from Ava, bringing me back from my thoughts.

   The castle may only be a mile away but the second we stepped over the line we would be visible to all the birds, beasts and Veterans on the other side. More so, the monsters.

   The monsters created were often put out of the cities by their Creators. If they had no further use for them, or if the monster had not been made correctly, they were abandoned to the wilds. Creators buried their mistakes usually but some, like me, managed to escape. Others were just cast out.

   The Veterans had their villages and their warriors to guard them, hunt for them, protect them from the strangest of creatures.

   Once a monster was cast out of a city it could no longer see the city from whence it came. That was the magic of the cities, something learnt from the punkawathas, to keep the city folk safe from the Veterans.

   The air here was good, the light too. It was far enough away from the trams and the railways so the smog did not descend. Maybe they had better fuel for their fires and their cooking as well, I did not know. Smoke was coming from chimneys but it was not adding to a fog.

   The pavements were wide and clean with a strip of grass between them and the roads. Trees were planted every twenty feet on this strip of grass. Tall straight trees with pine like foliage.

   Trees in a city were strange. People normally did not trust them. They were of the wilds, something outside, something sinister. Here though they were planted beside the pavement.

   “Think it out,” I told her. “Here, there is no tram running to that castle, nor a train, not even one owned by a Creator.”

   “A tunnel. It has to be. So, the Creator can pass from the city to her castle.” I deduced.

   Nearly all the Creators were female. I did not know why. Maybe it was something to do with reproducing. Again, I did not know.

   “Yes, a tunnel. If it were an invisible passage, it would break the magic of this part of the city. It would mean this part of the city would become visible to outsiders. Magic versus magic, loss on both sides. So how do we find this tunnel?” I asked Ava, more to bounce ideas off her rather than expecting a reply.

   Ava decided jumping up and down would solve the problem. It did, sort of. It showed us that below was hollow. It also got everyone and their wives staring at us.

   I looked in a straight line. A row of houses. A tunnel could curve and wander, that is true. The most effective way of digging one though was in a straight line.

   That too was strange. A row of houses, terraced not semi-detached. I walked towards them. Puffing to keep up with me, Ava followed.

   I was nearly all the way to the terraced houses when I stopped. I could see them all but nothing was different about any. They were not slum dwellings, they were quite nice. Clean, painted, their window sills not cracked or anything like that .The glass in the windows was not smashed or covered in wood.

   “What am I missing?” I asked myself aloud.

   I often did this. I was a man who walked alone usually. So, I talked to the man who was most intelligent – me.

   “There, just under the roof on the fourth from the left. A blue marking. I have seen that mark before.”

   It was only when she pointed it out to me that I saw it. It was shadowed by the roof. A blue marking with lines that ran around each other making the whole look like a blue ball of string.

   “That is one of the markings used by the Cult of the Green Earth. It symbolises the universe being connected to all things,” I was informed by Ava.

   The Creators did not believe in anything that the Green Earth cultists believed in. Nor did the Cult of the Old Ones that made the punkawathas into gods and prophesied their return.

   I did know certain Creators had followers. To hide from sight but give the followers signs of where to go, they did use certain symbols. Could this be one of those?

   “I will go in alone,” I told Ava. “This is one of Madame Jenna’s hideouts. Who knows what sort of creatures will be hidden here as guards?”

   “But––”

   “Madame Jenna tortures people. She is a Creator. That is how she makes her abominations. With most Creators there is more than a little insanity. Jenna, on the other hand, has lost the plot. Add to that a true sadist and you have a very dangerous woman.”

   Ava did not look happy.

   “I can look after myself, you know.”

   My thoughts were different.

   I was an unstoppable force. I did not even know if I could die. Fighting was my life. Charging into battle. I was that soldier.

   And hunter and hero too, if you come to it. Or bits of me were.

   This is how I knew something about everything. I retained knowledge from every single part of me that had ever been used. This included the parts that had been used but had to be discarded as they could not revive.

   “You stay here and, when I am sure all is safe, I will put a glow ball in that window.” I pointed to a window below the glyph on the wall.

   I then walked away from her. Better this than her meeting an ogre hiding in the house. Or a wolfman. Both of those are nasty. The wolfman is a human trapped inside the body of a wolf. It took a lot skill to make those. They were like the werewolf I killed in Hex. They were upright like humans but with wolf faces and paws. They never changed back into a human form like werewolves did. A werewolf spent three nights as a wolf and the rest of the month as a normal human being. A wolfman was trapped as a man with wolf features.

   I calmly walked around to the back of the houses. With my brown bowler hat and silver topped cane I was not out of place in this area. I saw a Crusher and walked the other way for a street then took an alleyway to come back and look at the rear of the buildings.

   The Crusher had gone. Walking his beat.

   To the back of the house I went: one, two, three, four from the left, now my right. I went to the window and slid in my thin workman’s knife. It cut the sash and I pushed the window up and I was in.

   Quiet! A sound like any other. Total peace and quiet. You could not even hear a mouse fart, it was so silent.

   In stalking mode now, I checked the rooms. They all had doors leading off. That was not normal. In this sized house it should be living room, dining room, kitchen, maybe a hall. Extra doors should not be leading off the living and dining rooms. That would take them into the next houses, right and left.

   I took the left. Again, utter silence. Again, many doors. It was then I caught on.

   This was not a terrace of reasonable sized houses. This was a terrace for one long house. One person owned the whole terrace and had converted it. Yes, here was a small workshop, here a study, here a kitchen for cutting up samples and maybe human body parts.

   The upstairs would be linked rooms too. All bedrooms? I did not know. It was possible. Creators did have followers.

   Madame Jenna had her followers. Many were very unhappy people. They wanted to be something else, something better and Jenna could provide this. She showed the face of a loving, caring Creator who made simple people into creatures that could live forever.

   Handsome gentlemen vampires, dragons, powerful demons and devils.

   The truth was different, though.

   Jenna tortured all she could, twisting them from once normal people into horrific beasts.

   She made no dragons, nor demons, nor devils. She simply was not powerful enough. Werewolves that were savage she could do, rather than beasts wanting to run through the countryside. Vampires whose only desire was to mutilate in a vain attempt to rid themselves of their own memories of being tortured. Zombies who hated the living and wanted to spill their blood. Maenads who inspired orgies and when truly insane or totally intoxicated, ripped men to pieces. Wolfmen who could rip out a person’s throat with a single bite.

   There a noise! A guard maybe, come from a cellar. It was near the back of the house. Still in stalking mode I quickly made my way to where that noise occurred.

   Only to find Ava had been lock-breaking again.

   She was in the kitchen looking proud of herself so I did not berate her for not waiting for the all-clear. It would have been safer of course, my way. For her at least.

   I told her what I had found.

   She gave her take on the situation: “So, this is a small workshop area to make monsters. More below I bet. However, the main place would be the castle.”

   “Exactly. When we go below however, we might find the vampire or all manner of beasts to guard that tunnel.”

   There were a lot of doors in this long, long building but eventually we found the right one. It looked like all the others but actually opened up to stairs going down to the cellars. It was there we found him, the wolfman.

   A beast that was taller than me by a clear foot. It was built on the lines of one of the Crushers. Seven foot tall and powerfully built. Apart from a ragged pair of trousers, it was naked. Fur covered its body from the claws on its feet to the top of its head. Its paws were larger even than a Crusher’s hands and long claws extended from them.

   “Good doggy,” I said to him in the voice I used to calm animals. “Good doggy. Want to play fetch the stick?” I showed him my cane.

   The wolfman let out a fearsome growl. Doggy apparently did not want to play fetch the stick.

   “How do you kill a wolfman?” came a whispered question from Ava. “I have the silver stake.”

   “I think that is just werewolves . . .” I pulled the silver collar out of my pocket and threw it him, his elongated jaw snapped at the collar but it was already circling his throat. Nothing happened.

   It was annoying him, though. He was snapping at nothing but air. His furry face was showing no pleasure.

   “Hit him on the snout with a rolled-up newspaper,” giggled Ava. “I always did that when my dog shat on the carpet.”

   The wolfman protested this badinage by lifting his head and howling. That could be a signal, best be moving.

   I tapped my head backwards and it knocked my neck support. I pulled the sword pommel from the top of my coat. As it came free, slivers of metal dropped into place, now the handle was in place, now the first half and then it was complete. I gave it a good shake and the last sliver dutifully moved into place, locking it into being a good strong sword.

   I took up a two-handed stance. This was a big beasty. Claws flexed, the toothy snout snapped at the air. This creature was psyching himself up for battle.

   Ava advanced silver stake in her hand but I pushed her back. She had no chance in a battle like this. She knocked me aside and ran at the beast and leapt. It was a wonder of a leap, five foot she covered until she slammed her body against his, her mass hitting him high on the chest thanks to her leap. The beast stepped back and toppled under her weight.

   It was snapping its jaws trying to connect with her flesh but she was ahead of it slamming the silver stake in his side again and again. Her body was at its chest level and its snapping jaws were missing and then slowing and then gasping, blood now leaking from its mouth, its ears, its snout.

   It was dying . . . and still the silver stake was being thrust into its side.

   “You are a very bad doggy!” She was shouting at the wolfman as it expired.

   “Move!” I shouted loudly and she rolled off of it and my blade slashed down beheading it.

   “You stole my kill!” She declared angrily.

   “It was your kill,” I replied calmly, not wanting to take anything away from her. “I was making sure it never came back . . . as anything. You never know with Creators . . . they can try and cross a wolfman with a vampire and so a beast dies and comes back to life. Always behead any creature you kill.”

   “But it was a good kill? That was my special skill, Ava’s Flying Crush. When you are as cuddly as me, you better use it to your advantage.”

   “It was a very good kill. I could not have done better myself.”

© COPYRIGHT Michael Sheppard 2024

Reblog for next chapter

[jeonqkooks]

our beloved summer; a drabble

note: i have no idea what this is 🤧 this is the product of me being emo while rewatching obs and thinking about that "when you get older" post from the other day

It’s Wednesday today.

When your alarm goes off with that loud, obnoxious sound that you’ve come to tolerate, you wake up.

The sun is directly in your eyes because you forgot to fully close the curtains last night. You grumble to yourself, turning over to reach for your phone. You read Taehyung’s texts and make a mental note to reply later. You scroll through your socials for a while, looking at photos of your friends and acquaintances. Someone just got their second degree. Someone just got engaged. Someone is entering their third trimester. You glance at the news. The world is a terrible place.

You get up and spend ten whole minutes making your bed because your sheets keep creasing and your comforter won’t fill in where it’s supposed to. You brush your teeth and wash your face. You do your morning skincare and watch a YouTube video. You think about looking for a new apartment, even though you love this place. Taehyung asks why you left him on read.

You go into the kitchen to make coffee. You forego the fancy coffee machine that Taehyung and Jimin got for your birthday a few months ago, because it’s too much work in the morning. It’s great for the aesthetics, but you don’t really want to spend an hour just to get some caffeine. You make a shitty cup of joe instead. Boil water, two teaspoons of instant coffee, two teaspoons of sugar, both creamer and oat milk. In college, Hoseok called this your trademark disgusting concoction.

You bring your drink to the living room and set it on the coffee table, where your laptop is already waiting for you after being abandoned last night for some much needed sleep. You sip your java and answer some tedious emails. You go through your notebook, crossing out some lyrics that definitely sounded better in your head and after a couple glasses of rosé. You feel stagnant because it’s been a few weeks and this song just isn’t fucking good enough. You remember that you haven’t called your mother in a few weeks. You should probably do that today, or tomorrow, or some time later this week; give her some meaningless life updates just so you could say that you have a relationship with each other.

You take a break from working when your poor back tells you to stand the fuck up and stretch it out. You go to the window sill to look at your houseplants. They seem to like how aggressive the sun is today. You try not to think about him. Instead, you wonder what Taehyung might bring over for dinner tonight. Some peace of mind would be nice.

You go to the kitchen again to get some water for your plants. You watch them drink it up and reach for the sun. No one can ever truly know another person. Maybe a person can never even truly know themself.

Your chest feels tight again, so you just look at the green leaves and smile. They can’t see you though; no one can. You don’t even believe yourself. You'll get better at this tomorrow.

It’s almost 10:30 in the morning.

Day 706.

[in-a-mountain-pool]

Playing House CH1

pronouns: she/her (afab)

warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort,

summary: A childhood friend and neighbour of the Bennett family, Y/N fights the war on the Homefront, and looks back on her life and *almost* love with a certain Sailor.

pairings: Tom Bennett x reader

wordcount: 1018

The nights were long during the first few months of the war. You'd desperately wanted to do your bit from the start, what with losing a father to the first great war. The war to end all wars, they had called it. You'd wanted to be a nurse just like your mum and make her and your dad proud. But after the selection process they'd decided you were too 'gentle' for a war hospital environment, and supposedly had a knack for maths and electronics. Before you knew it, you'd been taken on as a switch board operator at the war office sending messages across the country, often times the bearer of bad news more than good. This evening you'd pulled a gruelling shift and things were apparently only going to get worse as word came in there had been a particularly nasty battle out in the Java Sea. Whilst you'd avoided the sight of the bloodshed, being the first to know it had happened was almost even worse. Having to tell the poor sod on the other line that their squadron were not coming back was heart-breaking and never got any easier. There was no good way to tell anyone the sort of news which had become common place to you.

Your mind was working on autopilot, the 8-hour day soon turning to 14 hours, with hardly the time for even a tea break and a biscuit, or even a smoke. As your hands started to shake changing wires in the dim light of the room, a voice shakes you from your deep concentration, and gentle manicured hands take the wire from your grip softly.

"Y/N, girl, you've got to stop, alright? You'll waste away if you keep this up. Go home, yeah? We can take it from here. Your mum will be beside herself with worry."

Betty, your best mate at work had already brought you your coat and you were so tired you let her stand you up as she placed it on your shoulders and hooked your gas mask over your shoulder.

"Churchill would be proud of you today, love. Your finest hour indeed. But you've gotta take care of yourself, eh? Can’t fight the Germans without fuel and a good night’s rest."

The older woman gave me a warm knowing look and sent me on my way, and I walked down the streets of Manchester briskly in the dark of the night.

As I approached my childhood street and our small, terraced house, it was deadly quiet and crisp outside in the night that even the jangle of my housekeys seem disruptive. Not a soul was out, not even the patrons of local pub were kicking up a fuss, not even on a Friday night. It was hard not to feel a sense of discomfort, like the calm before the storm. I push the front door open quietly, Mum was almost definitely in bed at this hour and I didn’t want to risk waking her when she had a long shift ahead of her at the hospital in the morning... but then out of the corner of my eyes, I see a small rectangle of light peeking out from beneath the door to the living room. She never waited up for me. Not even when I went out with the girls at work for drinks. Tired and dejected, I decide to leave her be and deal with her dramas in the morning, and I start to climb the staircase slowly, until a soft creak gives me away.

"Y/N, is that you? Come in, I need to talk with you."

My hand grips the rail tighter, as a wave of discomfort washes over me, and my stomach turns. Mum appears in the hall, wrapped up tight in her dressing gown, bathed in the warm light of the fireplace.

"Darlin' come on, I just made a cuppa, come and sit with me alright?"

She gently coaxed me out of my coat and sat me down, placing a small plate of supper she'd obviously kept for me, and a warm cup of earl grey in my hands. She came to sit down opposite me at the dining room table and started staring at me expectantly, taking my hand in hers tightly. Why on earth was she being so careful with me? She was treating me like I was made of glass, and soon worrying thoughts started to race through my head as she began to speak.

"So... Did you hear the news...at the office today?"

My green eyes search hers cautiously as I take a sip of the warm tea and reply in a tired voice.

"When I was leaving, we'd just got news about a battle in the Indonesian Sea... but Betty insisted I come home, 'was getting the shakes and all that. No time for lunch when Jerry is wreaking havoc out there."

At this she grips my hand a little tighter and my heart gets colder as she quietly prods me on.

“So, you… you do know then?"

…

The pause goes on for a long moment, like she's waiting for me to crack or something, looking at me like whatever she was going to say might break me. I'm so knackered and aching from the day that my patience is worn thin, and my reply comes out as a harsh snap.

"Oh hell, Mother, do I know what? Please just tell me whatever has happened, alright? You're frightening me."

Her face drops, and I can see her start biting her lip, and it’s only then that I really look at her in the darkened room and I can see her eyes are swollen and pink from crying, with a worrisome look etched across her face.

"Love, the battle today against the Graf Spree... well, the HMS Exeter was there... and she's been sunk. Mr Bennett, he came by to see me all in a panic and-"

My whole world crashes down as I hear about Douglas, and the only thing I can picture is *his* face. Blue eyes flash in my memory, the smell of spring, the feeling of his hand in mine… and all of a sudden, I feel like I can hardly breath. I gasp harshly, only one word, one name, leaves my lips.

"Tommy."

[watcherofeternalflame]

Hazbin Hotel characters orders at Starbucks

Alastor: plain black coffee (makes a scene like a boomer insisting on saying medium instead of grande and talking about how he just wants plain coffee can they do that?)

Husk: grande dark roast with two pumps of hazelnut, no room

Sir Pentious: earl grey tea

Angel: orders whatever the limited time marketing gimmick drink is and inevitably hates it

Charlie: strawberry frappuccino

Vaggie: venti iced mocha with an extra shot

Lucifer: caramel apple spice

Nifty: has the "secret menu" pulled up on her phone and has to go thru 8 options before she finds one where the ingredients still exist

Cherri: nitro cold brew with sweet cream

Vox: tall iced coffee with 4 pumps of skinny mocha and a spash of cream, shaken in one of the tea shakers and poured into a grande hot cup and topped with whipped cream (this was an actual regular when I was a barista and I hated him)

Valentino: extra dirty iced chai ;) (he wants 3 shots but refuses to just say that, even tho the barista asks every time)

Velvette: quad shot iced white mocha in the morning, java chip frappuccino in the afternoon

Rosie: black iced tea

Carmilla: vanilla latte

Odette and Clara carmine: iced caramel macchiato with extra extra caramel

Zestial: doesn't know what Starbucks is

Mimzie: blonde pour over, doesn't matter if they just brewed a fresh pot of blonde, she wants them to take time to make a pour over

Adam: orders a double chocolate chip frappuccino (which is caffeine free), says gotta have my caffeine in the morning

Lute: drip coffee with a shot, leave room for cream

Sera: matcha latte

Emily: tries to order a unicorn frappuccino, settles for vanilla bean

Lilith: skinny vanilla latte