#and the usual front desk lady is taking time off today and shes being replaced by someone who isnt that much more experienced than me

[theo-grayson]

pain suffering agony pain misery

[bloatedandalone04]

➪the one where you meet nick after your brother gets arrested.

Word Count: 1.5k

You practically bolted out of your car and into the police station, your face burning from both the hot weather and the fact that your brother has been arrested yet again. 

  You didn’t even get a chance to park in an actual parking spot as you were in too much of a hurry, something that would surely come back to bite you in the ass. For now, you could only hope that no one notices. 

  The receptionist didn’t even have to look up to know it was you, how embarrassing, and waved you through with her hand, her eyes never leaving the screen in front of her. 

  You walked past the desk, your cheeks red from humiliation as you quickly made your way to the sheriff’s office. Hesitantly, you raised your hand to knock, dreading coming face to face with the man for the third time this month. 

  Instead of being met with the aged face of sheriff Jacob, you were surprised to see a younger man with dark brown hair and blue eyes staring back at you. He had his arm crossed over his chest, his hand wrapped around the handle of a phone as he held it up to the opposite ear. He used his shoulder and head to keep it firmly there, his other hand on the door knob.

  He gestured you to enter with a nod of his head, to which you quietly did, already feeling bad about interrupting his phone call. He walked back around to the front of the desk, still standing as he looked at the papers that scattered the top of the desk. 

  You sat down in one of the chairs that faced the desk, playing with your fingers while looking around the room. The family pictures and kids drawings were taken off the walls, you noticed, and were left bare. Your eyes went back to the desk, where the usual Sheriff Jacobs plaque was replaced with one that read Sheriff Goode. 

  Realization hit you when you remembered that Jacobs was retiring and needed to be replaced. You heard something about a man from Sunnyvale being elected, but you didn’t know that he already took over the position. 

  The man finished the call and put the phone back on the receiver before sitting down. He finally looked up at you, and you tried not to notice the way his eyes widened slightly before he gave you a smile. “Hi,”

  You can’t help but smile at the sound of his voice and sit up straighter. “Hi,” you say back. “Um, I’m really sorry about….disturbing your call..or whatever.” 

  He looks at the phone when you point to it before shaking his head. “Oh, no worries,” he brushed it off, folding his hands on the surface of the desk and moving his chair back and forth slightly. 

  “Yeah, I was just expecting,” you trail off, meeting his eyes. “Well, not you.”

  He laughed and the sound of it alone had your heart skipping a beat. “Yeah, I’m the new guy,” he said. “Nick Goode.”

  He held his hand out to you from over the table, one brow raised in question. “I’m Y/n Y/l/n,” you take his hand, feeling it nearly covering the entirety of yours. When he pulled away and gave you a confused yet friendly look, you suddenly remembered why you were here in the first place. “Oh, um, my brother was arrested earlier today. Uh, I don’t know what for, the lady didn’t tell me.”

  He quirked an eyebrow at that as he leaned back in his chair. “She didn’t? Well I’ll have to have a talk with her about that,” he said, an amused grin on his lips. “What’s your brother’s name?”

  “Michael,”

  At the mention of the name, Nick quickly looks away from you, a look of pity mixed with second hand embarrassment on his face. He pulls his lips into his mouth, making a tight line appear as he nods. “Hm,”

  Your face falls and you let out a groan. “Oh, God,” you whine. “What did he do this time?”

  Nick kept the expression on his face as he reached over and grabbed a folder. He crossed his leg over his knee and leaned further back, placing the now opened folder against his thigh as his eyes scanned the paper. “Where do I start?”

  You could’ve cried when he asked that. “From the beginning?” Your voice wavered and you dreaded hearing the answer. 

  “Vandalism, resisting arrest, disrespecting a police officer, that one is a bit of a stretch, by the way, and verbally assaulting an elderly woman who watched it all happen,” he laughed as he read the last one, but quickly covered it up by bringing his fist up to his mouth. 

  You, however, weren’t laughing. Your eyes looked all over the room, your mouth opened slightly as you processed his words. Your mouth closed once you realized you had no words to say, and you looked back at the sheriff, wearing the most disappointed and tired look ever seen on a person. 

  He gave you a small smile, pity written all over his face as he closed the folder and tossed it back on his desk. “That’s it,”

  At that, you let out a small laugh, but it quickly turned into a scoff of disbelief as you leaned forward and put your elbows on your knees. “That’s it,” you mumbled to yourself, repeating it in the same tone he said it in, though much quieter. You pressed your hands to your temples as you stared at the floor. “I can’t believe this.”

  “He broke the window of a shop in town,” he continued, putting his leg back down and spinning the chair so he faced you once again. “The owner is asking for it to be paid in full.”

  You looked back up at him. “How much?”

  “Six seventy,”

  Your eyes widen as you sit back. “You know what?” You put your hands on the armrests of the chair as you begin to stand up. “You’re gonna have to arrest me in, like, five minutes because I’m about to go kill my brother.”

  Just as you stood up, he reached across the desk, his hand wrapping around your wrist to stop you. “Wait,” he said quickly, making you stop in your tracks. “The owner is partially at fault, as well.”

  That made you sit back down, his hand leaving your wrist as you waited for him to continue. 

  “He was discriminating against your brother and refusing to serve him based on his appearance,” when you heard that, your brows furrowed and you sank back in the chair, feeling sorry for your troubled brother but still very much pissed off at him. “When the owner began pushing Michael out of  the store, that’s when he threw a rock at the window.”

  You nod, pressing your palm to your face as you ask, “So, what does this mean?”

  “Well, the store owner tried to make it out to be your brother’s fault entirely, but a few witnesses came forward and confirmed that Michael didn’t start it,” at that, you let out a relieved sigh. “So, retribution isn’t applicable in this case.”

  When you leaned back and let your tense shoulders drop, you glared playfully at the man. “Why didn’t you tell me all that first?”

  He shrugged. “I wanted to rile you up,”

  “Funny,” you said, unable to stop the smile that spread across your face. You tried to ignore just how good looking this guy is, and you break eye contact before anything could slip out without your consent. “So, when can I take him home?”

  “We’ll need to keep him overnight, to ensure we get the full story,” Nick answered, looking over the array of folders on the desk. “He’ll be able to go home tomorrow afternoon at the latest.”

  You nod. “Thank you, sheriff,”

  “Nick,” 

  “Nick, sorry,”

  He just shook his head, a small smile on his lips as he stood up. “Let me walk you out,”

  You expected him to just walk you to the door of his office, the couple feet that it was, but he actually walked you all the way out to your car. When you saw it, your eyes widened and you ripped the piece of paper from where it was stuck underneath the windshield wiper. “Oh, no,” you mumbled, reading over the paper. “I got a ticket.”

  Nick, who now stood behind you, peered over your shoulder. “Here,” he said, making you turn around. Once you were facing him, he gently took the ticket from your hand. “I got it.”

  “Really?” You ask, not bothering to hide the surprise in your voice.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said with a grin.

  “Thank you,” you beam up at him. “It was nice meeting you, though I wish it were under better circumstances.”

  “It’s all good,” he brushed off your words, tucking the ticket away in his back pocket. “I also have a younger brother who used to lash out all the time. He’s the Mayor now, believe it or not.”

  “Wow,” you trail off. “Michael’s future looks bright, then.”

  He just laughed and you turned around, opening the driver side door. 

  “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  He nodded, stepping away from your car. “I’ll be here,”

  You grin one last time before getting in your car and trying not to look back up at him. 

  Maybe your brother’s bad habits weren’t so bad after all.

[jae-canikeepyou]

| into you | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

word count: 7.7k+

summary: as the uni campus’ social butterfly, it’s a given you have a lot of friends, invited to almost all gatherings and all adore you. for the latter, jaehyun does too. he’s so into you and likes how you’re his happy place. or; jaehyun— an unsocial, often misunderstood person, finds his behaviour different with you and perhaps wants to keep you for himself, not anyone else.

genre: fluff + elite!au

a/n: i’m back after a while since i’ve been so so busy! this is not proofread again and i’m sorry if there are any grammar mistakes down there :> this is not canon with “letting go” scenario in case there’s any similarities with the characters. hehe anyway i hope you all enjoy reading! ♡ ~j.

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seated at the front row in the amphitheatre-shaped lecture hall, jaehyun frustratingly put his hood back on to hide himself from those who were staring from all around. they were definitely whispering about him, hands by their lips to conceal their voices in case he heard them. he hated this much attention, all because he chose stay of out school and classes— and claimed that it didn’t interest him.

so did coming today.

but the point was his attendance for this class was on the line and his busybody parents were sick of receiving phone calls or mails that kept filling their boxes, all for the same reason; that their son could be expelled despite handing assignments.

he rolled his eyes at the heat creeping up his ears as the whispers grew louder. he slammed the thin granite table, causing everyone to flinch at the sound and his presence. “can i have some quiet?! i can hear you guys talking crap about me!” he turned around at the pairs of eyes, soon frozen like meerkats.

they ticked him off. he couldn’t stand being in the same room with people who repeatedly questioned his existence of being here. he knew that rumours were going around, that the ‘jeong jaehyun’ in high school got into an private elite university— it could be anywhere but never expected it‘d be this campus. it was written in the judgment of their faces.

“chill man,” a guy his age swung his lollipop with legs on the desk. “some are curious why you decided to show up today since first semester’s a week away from ending, while some even wonder why you got into such prestigious and elite university.”

jaehyun’s eyed him slowly from legs to head. “who are you supposed to be?” he snorted at the stranger.

“just a guy who wants to break the distraught you’re trying to start.” he kicked his legs off the desk and stood up on his suede shoes, showing off his pearly whites.

he looked at everyone whose eyes averted from the two of them. “our town’s a small neighbourhood, so everybody knows everybody. we know exactly who you are, jeong jaehyun.”

“excuse me?” he swirled his tongue that it was evident he was pissed. “careful what you accuse me of. you and i both know it’s not going to end well-”

“they’re near they’re near!” a voice echoed the hall, cutting jaehyun’s attempt to intimidate the young man any further.

and with that signal alone, jaehyun could see and observe ladies fixing their hair and make-up, while the guys gave fistbumps to those near them. he rolled his eyes at him returning the favour to them as the guy unbuttoned his collar. “what’s wrong with you?” jaehyun was utterly weirded out. “with everyone?”

the crimson-haired guy only gave a flirty grin with raised brows. “this happens everytime.“

the door swung open with the professor rushing in. the students swifted heads, it wasn’t the first time he ever was late. he was young and good-looking, and it was hard to believe he still a bachelor. he gestured someone at the door, then the held-in giggles and mumbles were soon replaced with whispers of awe, as you walked in carefully with a tower of binder folders halfly covering your view.

clearly the guys around him have been secretly admiring; some had the confidence of taking selfies even if you were far, while others took a picture with their eyes so you were marked in their memories. ladies flocked towards the flustered professor like little chicks and surrounded him.

and that’s when the comments started coming in.

“park seojoon is so hot.” “hey remember to use ‘professor’.” “i guess genes runs in the family.” “his sister is ethereal too.” “i see her weekly and y/n’s a goddess.” “y/n! are you coming to the party tonight?”

jaehyun knew who you were through social media and common friends. and he included himself part of the people who admire you. he also remembered because he bumped into you during orientation. he wouldn’t usually care about passerby’s and strangers and although that was a brief moment and short eye contact, something about you was hard to not forget. you had people and friends under a charming spell he couldn’t describe, and that was in a good way.

you tucked a strand behind your ear and became shy afterwards as they whistled and cheered towards your gesture, making you heat up a thousand degrees higher. you should be used to this but every time it happens, you were just as flustered as your brother.

jaehyun’s legs got up on its own and was surprised at himself for making his way to help you. he picked up the fallen binder files and scattered papers while the whiskers by your eyes creased up in shyness.

he hitched a breath realising that the clumsy you was adorable too.

“thank you.” a smile then appearing at the corners of your lips caused jaehyun to freeze for a while. yuta wouldn’t miss anyone’s reaction. he slid his chair close to jaehyun’s as the he came back, nudging his chair for him to give into your beauty.

“i know a person with heart eyes when i see one. now you understand why we’re whipped for y/n. isn’t she a babe- agh.” he held the back of his head from the smack.

“don’t call me that, nakamoto.” you hissed sharply with how confident and careless he could get, especially with people you weren’t familiar with. you looked at the guy in a black sweater and let out an embarrassed sigh. “i’m sorry about my annoying best friend. yuta tends to be chatty when he feels lonely.” you winked at him.

it was jaehyun’s turn to flash short chuckle, its faint sounds perked not only your ears, but yuta’s as well. “not a problem. i know a lonely person when i see one.” jaehyun emphasised through his gaze.

“i’m not lonely! i have y/n and my men!” he whined and turned towards you. “see what you did y/n?”

“it’s good to finally see you, jeong jaehyun.” you ignored yuta and brought out a hand for a greeting.

you pursed your lips to stifle a laugh, jaehyun’s ears quickly turned from pink to red. he gulped loudly and took your hand in his, eyebrows lifting at how you knew his name.

lost for words and you both locked eyes where he forgot to let your hands go. “we take the same course together? i know your name because you’re the only one missing from the class-” you said, shaking his hands to subtly let him know it had been a minute since your hands felt his vainey flesh.

“okay young lad that’s enough time holding my sister.” seojoon separated your hands and jaehyun snapped out of his admiration, inhaling quite stressfully with how stupid he looked. “get to your class y/n.”

“alright, i’ll see you at tea hour.” you waved at the boys.

“as long as you’re treating i’ll go.” yuta hummed in a monotonous voice, fixing his laces that went untied.

“i’m not talking to you dimwit.” you flicked his forehead, leading to your satisfaction of the nut-like sound from it. “jaehyun, because you missed yesterday’s class, prof assigned me to assist you, along with the other topics you’ve yet to cover. i’ll be expecting you at the café near campus.”

before you stepped out of the hall, yuta pulled your sweater, yanking you back. “are you going to taeyong’s party tonight? you never miss an event!”

you puckered your lips, pinching his cheeks that a cute gummy smile came out from it. “you know my rules. as long as you’re driving me home, i’ll go. see you later.”

jaehyun nodded yet was still in a daze. he realised what you said when yuta pushed him. “gross. don’t act as if we’re already close.”

“hm? was i really? i think it’s normal when you’re making a move on my best friend.” he brought out his laptop and typed his password.

i wasn’t. “whatever.”

and to say that jaehyun didn’t feel butterflies flying uncontrollably in his stomach would be an understatement. they made the intestine churn in ways he couldn’t imagine, and he himself wanted to deny that what he was feeling was just from the influence of others. but wouldn’t that mean his feelings were temporary? because if it were, he should perceive you an ordinary person.

yet here he was outside, still admiring you before he entered the café. he found it was amusing of how oblivious you were of his presence— you were too immersed into this assigned task by professor, but others found it funnier when jaehyun looked stupidly in-love and cowardly the lad looked, despite having the overall aura of a stuck-up.

as the sun’s rays brightened the city and the wind’s breeze made the trees leaves dance, only then had you raise your head to see jaehyun waving at you. ten minutes early, not bad for an actual first impression. “hey,” he greeted, making you smile with his low but gentle voice. “am i late?”

you took your bag from across and asked him to sit down. “no no. you’re just in time, it’s really nice to have an early bird around.”

his dimples deepened at the compliment. “how about the project? is it too late? you think i can still catch up?” jaehyun cleared his throat.

“that depends on your dedication. based on the record professor gets, you’ve been doing your tasks and homework quite diligently. he’s just worried about your habit of not attending his lectures might lead to procrastination when second semester starts.” you gave him a slice of cheesecake to eat. “he’s still teaching us another subject.”

“it’s quite the contrary.” he dove in for the dessert. “i don’t have the will to procrastinate at all.”

“then good.” you twisted the pen in your fingers. “let’s get started?”

for that span of two hours, how he wished it could be more. who knew you would have a lot of things in common with him? that time alone was not enough to talk about vinyl and jazz singers and pretty much everything that were overlooked by people. he brought up his favourite spots in the city and how they became a safe haven to escape the reality.

to cut the explaining short, his shell slowly started to open, bits and new things were showing. if you were surprised he was a good person, jaehyun himself couldn’t believe he was able to converse with people normally. being the awkward and shy type, doing this almost seemed impossible.

was it your magic that caused him to do so?

you learnt that jaehyun was rather special and by special it meant he had gifts that you believed were way beyond human limits. he never studied in a library, rewatched lectures or written his notes. and the professor mentioned how jaehyun received good grades in most of the things he submitted.

to be very honest, you were a little jealous. from how he was sitting in front of you, he didn’t seem to be interested but was definitely listening. and you sort of gave up in continuing anyway. “i don’t understand why i’m told i need to guide you when you’ve already caught up with everything.” you let out a soft chuckle that seemed more of a question.

“i was waiting for you to stop..” jaehyun said quite blatantly and stretched his arms and you were hurt because if he didn’t want to, he could’ve said so. heck, even more so, he shouldn’t have come here and wasted time-

“..because it looked like you were forced to do this by prof.” his smile then faded seeing you mirror the same. “are you alright? you’re a little pale..”

your eyes widened. “oh uh, sorry, i assumed-” you sputtered and probably died inside with what he said. you cursed in your mind. dammit y/n.

jaehyun raised his brows, making you more flustered and panicky. you sighed and waved your ‘its-nothing’ hand. “assumed that i’m brusque and a stuck-up?”

he pierced his eyes at you and you weren’t going to lie, he scared you a bit. but that fear immediately disappeared when a gentle giggle and adorable dimples replaced it. “i get that a lot, but don’t worry. i’m different from what people think. they think i’m not friendly, a-and a loner too.”

“you’re not.” he heard you counter him, slightly slamming the fork down. “if you were, you wouldn’t be here with me. or even bothered to come.”

his heart became warm through your words, that act of kindness torn down his walls of inferiority and his perception towards people changed. “thanks.” he checked the time on his watch and twisted his wrist to show to you. “don’t you have a party to attend to?”

“lee taeyong’s?” you stood up to leave the café. “i feel like skipping it for tonight. i’m not in the mood for parties somehow.”

“because i’m a better company for you?” jaehyun teased and boy was he proud with his remark, you didn’t even deny it. “you don’t have to go if you really don’t want to. it’s better to have time for yourself sometimes.”

“you’re saying from experience?” you asked, putting pressure on your words about his claim of being alone.

“it’s more of an advice for you.” he winked.

you thought he was quite observant even though he barely socialised with others. he noticed the light in your eyes sparkling, in which he felt his chest squeeze. you twirled in your toes as you hugged your laptop. “say.. are you up for a movie marathon?”

—

including now, it’d be the fourth time you both have rewind the specific scene just for that certain song jaehyun kept singing nonstop. and although you loved his voice, having the song on replay would be a little too much and the purpose of the marathon might go in vain. it seemed jaehyun was way into it, so interrupting him would be mean of you so you sang along.

“the nostalgia still hits me ‘til this day.” jaehyun tossed a bag of chips from your kitchen island to you.

jaehyun kept saying it may sound stupid and corny coming from him, but as a child he liked the whole high school musical series; and he pretty much became one when breaking free started to play.

because you both couldn’t decide where to watch the beloved movies by everyone, the marathon ended up being at your apartment. it was subtle, yet quite obvious to you he didn’t want it to be held in his place. you thanked your psychology course for giving lessons to notice even the little things in behaviour.

“how many times do i have to keep telling you it’s okay to like it? not like anyone would tease you for it.” you giggled as you opened the bag and popped a couple of chips into your mouth.

“yeah sure, but i know you would.” he squinted his eyes for you to admit that that was your plan eventually.

“have i?” you singsonged, sipping on the large cola cup.

he pointed at the hairbrush you held and suddenly you bursted out in laughter since jaehyun was obviously— maybe a little— offended with how you mimicked him singing earlier. “okay you caught me.”

jaehyun felt his entire body heating up. still in denial about actually being into you, he took a challenge upon himself and scooted next to you. his arms slightly brushed and touched against yours. “you in for hsm 2?”

“well we are having a marathon, might as well go for camp rock later.” you shrugged and eyed him with a confirming gaze.

“uh-huh.. but i’m still a fan of the trilogy.” jaehyun stole the chips in your hands.

“now aren’t you cheeky.” you gasped at his playful behaviour, and you didn’t dislike it. perhaps you prefer this naught over yuta’s as it didn’t get into your nerves or have the urge to hit him because of the hyperness.

he sat deeper into the beanbag. “i’m comfortable in here. your house feels too homey.”

“so is it my fault that you’re in your comfort zone?” you stated, taking the bag of chips back into your arms.

“yes.” he protested with frequent waves of his palms. “you’re too kind and i might come here to visit often.”

“suit yourself.”

since he arrived here it had him wondering, why did he decide to show up today at campus when there was actually a pure human being like you? he just needed a person— just one— to knock onto his heart. yet with many people in his life trying to do the same thing, none held the correct key. and somehow,

it had to be you.

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you’ve lost count of the number of times jaehyun has been hanging at your crib since then. it became a normal routine but never have you been to his place. it was always yours and you didn’t mind that. though he did promise, you respected his decision.

you found out he could be little dorky and corny but that was the unique trait about him. like friends at kindergarten, you both were still at a get-to-know-each-other stage. so that day, he created a schedule where he would hang out with you on wednesdays and fridays, claiming that he didn’t want to be seen by others, e.g. mr. nobody with ms. golden girl.

however, since then, people close to you have been looking at you rather differently. it wasn’t because they sometimes see jaehyun following you around, they sensed a different aura from you. you could feel their piercing stares from all directions, as if you were the centerpiece of a watch. there was something a little different than usual.

and you tried to ignore this ominous feeling for now.

yuta shook his legs vigorously, in which was an unsightly act to see for someone on the soccer team. you could see him from afar with his hands by his lips, biting it as he waited for your arrival at the university’s sports ground. jaehyun jogged towards you with his bag slung diagonally across his torso. he poked your neck and as a person with severe tickle spots, that caught you off guard into a fight-me position to the doer.

“chill, it’s just me.” jaehyun had both of his hands up, whiskers appearing just by the sides of his nose.

“jaehyun!” you relaxed your limbs. “got a better way of greeting? i don’t like being surprised.” you pulled the hem of his sleeve, missing how he pursed his lips in glee when you both instantly became close, like it was overnight.

he let you grab him as you both walked towards where yuta was standing by the bleachers. “i’m sorry?” he giggled loud enough only for you to hear. “i thought i’d get a priceless reaction from you.”

you rolled your eyes that it almost hurt doing so. “be glad i have enough patience for you.”

“and i didn’t have enough patience last night!” yuta joined the conversation seeing you and jaehyun before him. “where have you been? you said you were coming to my place yesterda- why is he here?” he looked at him then at you. “with you? again?”

“ever thought that i want to have my own ‘me’ time for once?” you took off your cardigan and placed it on the bleachers. you could feel jaehyun chuckling softly when you made reference to his remark.

and boy was he proud. “you’re emphasising on that quite often nowadays.” he helped you carry your bag as you to settled down.

“that’s because i never realised how true it actually is until i say it out loud, since being in everyone’s eyes does pressure me.” you balled your fists to nudge him lightly on the arm, and for him to dramatically receive the attack did put yuta in an awkward position.

“uh hello? i’m still here!” in front of you and jaehyun, yuta snapped his fingers several times to divert attention. “what’s going on with you two? how are you both suddenly so close when you’ve just met for the first time two weeks ago?”

jaehyun swifted his head towards you, and the telepathic exchange of words between you and him had yuta clicking his tongue in disbelief. “you were right, he will react.” jaehyun’s voice prolonged while munching on a corn dog.

“told you so.” you flicked your hair and turned to yuta as you continued talking. “bestie, we’ve been seeing each other since then.”

what the hell? the way yuta’s face turn sour at your smile towards jaehyun, he could almost faint right then and there since he swore he saw mr. dimples smile subtly at you too. “and with just that i’ve been replaced-”

“no i would never replace my best friend.” you held his palms hoping he would calm down from his high emotions, but he immediately pulled his hand away from you, much to your dismay. “hey, i’m here to make amends-”

“yeah?” he clicked on a pen and wrote something on a tissue, soon grabbing your bag from the seat and fished out your wallet. “then you’re treating me my meals for a month. i have another order right now.”

now it was your turn whose face became sour. “a month?! i can’t do that- hey!”

yuta tossed your credit card up in the air and upon seeing his eyes darken— though that was all in your head—you gave in and sighed heavily. you stomped your way to the caféteria while yuta comfortably put one leg on the benches with a satisfied grin. “man she’s easy to tease.”

“is that so? then i know now who she gets it from.” jaehyun said through his chews on his food, making yuta’s ears perk up at the response.

the atmosphere lingering between the two of them invited dark clouds. both could sense the change in their moods, and they both weren’t liking it.

yuta spun and played the ball on his hands then forearms, later let out a scoff when jaehyun raised his brows. he didn’t like the vibe jaehyun was giving and so did the latter. “i do it for fun. it’s natural between us.” yuta said.

“hm? she told me she doesn’t like it when you do.” he saw you on your tiptoes as you struggled to tell the order to the person at the high-levelled counter. but another scoff came out from yuta. “you got a proble-?”

“yeah kinda.”

“i don’t think so. i can tell it really bothers you when y/n hangs out with me.” jaehyun sat up straight at yuta’s comment about him.

“i should be. because i’m her best friend and who knows what type of person you are.” he did a few tricks with his legs. “but if you really want to know then your attitude is what i have problems with.”

“i remember telling you it wouldn’t be good for you when accuse me wrongly.”

he let out a monotonous and rather mocking laugh, taking jaehyun aback but he anticipated this kind of response from him. “and what? you’ll go berserk like you did years ago? as a high school freshman? beating the innocent up or whoever comes your way?”

“look i don’t know where the hell that came from but it’s not what you or everyone else thinks.” jaehyun aggressively crumpled the hotdog wrapper in his palms.

“c’mon you don’t have to hold it all in,” yuta set his ball aside and rested his hands on his waist. jaehyun was getting uncomfortable the more he listened to him. “unleash that side-”

jaehyun rolled his tongue, nodding his head to test him. “alright, i guess i don’t have to when i have feelings for y/n. thanks for the advice.”

what the..? yuta stared at him when there wasn’t a change in his expression. jerk- “now you’re talking. you wanna fight? let’s do that-”

“tsk yuta! the bill’s too expensive!” you whined and gently put down the tray.

while yuta clicked his tongue at your sudden entry and with how quickly you came back, for a moment jaehyun wanted to hug you for being his saviour. he was so close to lose his temper towards your best friend. the relief seen in his tensed shoulders, but you interpreted it otherwise. “are you okay?” you asked while you sat down beside him.

he hummed, folding his arms and looking at the distance, clearly avoiding eye contact with yuta. “mhm, i just realised the deadline is coming up in three days.” he excused.

you managed to utter out a giggle as you finally ate, finding out how jaehyun’s ears always turned red when given attention to. “you’re stressed about it?”

“aren’t you?” jaehyun drank the remains of his soda.

“not really since i finished mine. but, if you’re worried about your progress, i can help you.” you swirled the fork in the air like a wand. jaehyun smiled to himself when yuta took his ball to throw a fit.

“i’m not worried about the project. but there’s an annoying bug i’m trying to hit so help me.” jaehyun’s dimples appeared deeply again and as the darkening ombré sunset shoned his side profile, there you witnessed how pure he actually was— and you missed out on yuta’s frown towards jaehyun.

you gulped and almost choked on your own saliva, eyes still locked in jaehyun’s. his hair caught in the wind, making it look fluffy and his entire demeanour softer than you usually see him. you hitched a breath since jaehyun seemed like he had no plans to avert his gaze too. both of you were definely mesmerised and hypnotised, and for jaehyun it was just like that time. he remembered the colour palette of your makeup while you recalled the perfume he wore.

in the recent marathons with him you’ve never been this close, physically speaking. so this close-up really debunked the impression you heard from people, especially from yuta.

however, as you were oblivious with the pressure behind jaehyun’s words and even smiled back at him, yuta flicked your temple. he was indeed a worry wart and sometimes he would like to flick you just this once for being too much of a social butterfly. he knew it was in your nature to be kind and always on the look out for others. he’s fine when you were with anyone except with this guy you befriended. not him.

he dodged your flying limbs in attempts to hit him. “oi, you’re not going to ask how i am? if i’m worried?”

the pain from the flick remained on your temple. “no? you look fine to me-” you stared at your phone. the message reminding you of the singles elite party a month from today at 8pm. “a party?”

“yeah if you attended the previous party you’d know that there’ll be another one after taeyong’s.” yuta took off his shoes in change for his casual.

“hm. i’m don’t feel like going.” you jumped off the bleachers to dust off your pants. “probably gonna be boring.”

“i’m the one who’s holding it this time!” yuta put you under a headlock in his arms. “you’re ditching your best friend?!”

you giggled and ticked his sides and followed it with a playful hug. “just kidding. i heard from momo! i’ll be there.” you brushed your hair up into a messy bun while spotting jaehyun starting to feel out of place. “oh! do you wanna come to the party, jae?”

yuta mentally facepalmed and it was given he didn’t like what you did. but your eyes were quick to see his reaction and you slapped his chest. he glared at you while his hands caressed it. why did you have to invite him? it was the whole purpose why he decided to hold a party; maybe you’d finally appreciate his hardwork, or perhaps, notice him as someone more and as not a best friend who only worries and teases you.

jaehyun nodded in response, no words needed. a smile crept your lips as if you were given chocolates on valentine’s. “cool.” you pulled him on the wrist after hearing the coach calling yuta, followed with a loud whistle. “ah yuta, we‘ll get going! see you.”

“mm yeah..” yuta hummed, seeing you both vanish in the distance. “see you..”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

your sulking self laid sideways by jaehyun’s lap, head rested on a pillow. it’s been too long since yuta avoided you, purposely ditched your hangouts, seenzoned your messages and ignored your calls. as if these weren’t obvious enough for you to know something was up. there definitely was but you couldn’t put a finger to it. so you forced jaehyun to let you stay at his place, being it your apartment was currently invaded by your brother’s friends from abroad.

but honestly it was also because you discovered jaehyun’s unit was blocks away from yours. fate was gladly on your side.

“y/n, you know i can’t work properly when you’re like this.” jaehyun sighed while he adjusted his sitting posture and lifting his laptop.

you slightly and lazily your body turned upright, seeing his dimples beginning to show themselves. “let me be.” you complained.

jaehyun put down his laptop. “i can’t. you’re in my way of cramming hours. plus, how long have you been coming here? it’s getting too frequent..” he paused when your eyes were no longer on him— rather they were on your phone, staring at the last conversation from yuta.

he couldn’t bring himself to say that he was reason why yuta acting the way he was to you. and for all honesty he would keep this matter to himself. “did i do something wrong?” you asked.

“of course not. he’s probably in his emo phase. guys have them a lot more than you think.” jaehyun typed on the keyboard for the remaining parts of the essay. “but he’ll get out of it eventually.”

“fine i’ll trust on that.” you sat up and scooted over to see his progress. you submitted your assignment hours ago. looking at jaehyun, it seemed he was struggling at some parts. were you unconsciously pressuring him? the beads of sweat began to roll down his temples and that made you giggle if it was the case. uh-huh. he was really feeling that way.

he gulped so loudly that it came out as a weird noise. he hoped you didn’t hear that. but the way you pursed your lips to hold the laughter in only had him discontinuing his report. “d-don’t do that.”

“do what?” you snicker.

jaehyun rolled his eyes and poked your forehead. “you’re too distracting.”

oh how the tables have turned. that comment flipped your head upside down, your heart in a frenzy and stomach churning. it wasn’t “so”, but “too”— that only meant he wasn’t concentrating on his work for a while.

even so, you waited for him to finish despite questionable feelings you’ve been feeling. his coffee cup already did seconds and thirds. and suddenly you remembered the happy hour the local café was promoting and there was a few minutes left until it ends for the day. you had to bring him there.

but you decided that because you wanted to be out of that suffocating air jaehyun caused.

—

the more you walked faster, the more jaehyun’s wrist reddened and hurt. but he let you be as he liked how you were comfortable with someone like him. your hair flowed with the wind, the remains of your shampoo left a sweet scent. was it lavender? and the wind blew stronger, making the scent clearer to the nose. his heart skipped beats, because it was indeed lavender. he swore in his head. scrap aside the frequent marathons and meet-ups. lavender’s all the more reason why fell for you quickly than ever.

and when the local café closed early for the day, you almost lost sight of the pedestrian signs. jaehyun pulled you in as the light emitted red. though you had your emotions get the best of you, you realised how childish you were for something so minor. you laughed in awkwardness, he did too. “i didn’t want anyone to see this side-”

warmth. that was all you thought of right there. you were in his embrace.

“..of me.” you soon mumbled in his chest, realising later of the action he just did. “jaehyun-”

“it’s okay. i don’t too.” his hand gently caressed the back of your head, treating it with care as if he held a newborn baby. “so can i keep you?”

that warmth became hotter, almost boiling that you weren’t able to breathe properly. “i’m sorry.” he said, that must’ve surprised you.” jaehyun chuckled.

surprised? of course you were. how was it natural for him to do skinship? and that smoothly? you both weren’t at that stage yet, let alone have a relationship with mutual feelings. even yuta couldn’t hug you because of how conscious you felt.

but then again, you looked up. you saw his ears. it was red, the usual reaction whenever you were with him. was it normal though? you were never aware of it up until now.

because it was so clear now.

“i’ll see you tomorrow? i have to help my mom with some things.” you lied as you scratched your neck.

jaehyun nodded and pulled away. “alright, go on ahead.”

you poked his dimples because he has been staring at you like he had questions to ask. “what is it?”

maybe he didn’t notice or maybe he did, but he was leaning closer, his head tilting to the side and eyes staring into your soul. you knew what he was about to do, you feel like letting him do so but at the same time you weren’t sure of your feelings.  

just a little more and you could’ve locked lips but..

your phone vibrated.

in panic you looked at your device and eyes widened that brought jaehyun aback.

“ah yuta!” you brought your phone so close to your face, not believing your best friend’s announcement on social media, in which he then followed up with a text message.

the light in your eyes was something jaehyun liked seeing, but didn’t so as well.

“oh! he said the concept for the elites’ party is live wardrobe. all singles will go through a ballot draw. it’s for the clothes to wear for the night..” you locked your phone. “tsk i wanted to wear my favourite dress.”

“i think you’ll look great in whatever gown is chosen for you.” jaehyun pat your head while you were immersed in your phone. “now go. it’s getting late.”

“i’ll expect the same for you.” you replied.

he laughed and that didn’t want to make you leave just yet. “nah don’t. i’m just ordinary in a suit.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

funny how he was so damn wrong.

fate let him draw red, and confidently chose a suit once it was his turn to change. it was as if he knew this attire would go well with him. a suede texture with a black outline on its collar accentuated his brushed up light brown hair, while his black under-shirt contrasted with his porcelain skin. gladly it wasn’t halloween, or else you would’ve mistaken him for a vampire.

he had you feeling all sorts of things, and you didn’t know why when you were nothing more than friends.

an hour ago he was in his usual casual wear. now he was surrounded with ladies who already seemed like they were friends with him for decades. you could see jaehyun was uncomfortable but he kept his cool with folded arms as he leaned against a column. the comments from them irritated you, because at one point they were badmouthing him— and the second he showed up they flooded him with compliments of his good looks and how they named him the “model elite”.

you swirled the wine glass in your hand, the other arm hugged your waist. you rolled your eyes at the falseness these people have towards him. “can’t believe it.” your fingers curled as irritation began to cover your sight. “look at them trying to make a move on him. erlgh too close. they weren’t like that before.”

sicheng rolled his tongue, hands in pockets and walked to be in front of you. “really? you weren’t like that before too.” he pointed out.

“i agree. recently you’re stuck like glue whenever you’re with him.” yuta gestured.

“am so not?” you gasped while your eyes trailed to jaehyun, who was still had patience for the ladies surrounding him. “i just like how he’s a good friend.”

“doubt it.” sicheng poked your cheek. “you wouldn’t feel like this when you have feeli-”

not this again. “i’m grabbing a drink.” yuta suddenly cut the conversation.

“get me one too!” the younger one yelled and after he was satisfied with the gesture, he winced as you pinched his sides from the remark he said earlier. “ow! y/n! it’s true though! i know what i’m seeing!”

truthfully, nothing about sicheng’s words or actions bothered you. but if there was anything that did, it was your own heart. as of tonight, you began to question your feelings towards jaehyun. when did it start? how was it possible to like someone so quickly? “i’m telling you i don’t.” your eyes trailed to him, not realising the rush of heat creeping your cheeks.

jaehyun was approached by yuta, who was giving him a glass of beer. the ladies fled after stealing pictures of the guy and he took the drink in his hands. then they headed towards the garden of the mansion. wonder what he’s here for?

“nice party you have here. concept’s cool.” jaehyun started to break the lingering silence because he knew how awkward this was going to be with your best friend.

“yeah, never knew you’d end up in red. it’s y/n’s favourite colour.” yuta’s voice lowered. there was an impact jaehyun could describe but assuming that would be too rude of him.

“really? i didn’t know.” he hummed. aren’t you a little too happy, jaehyun told himself. he shook it off, for he doesn’t expect him and you to go any further than this.

“now you do. so can you back up for a while? take a week off or something from y/n.” yuta raised his brows.

this was the same feeling from before. he knew this feeling because he felt the exact same way. he wanted to be selfish for once. not like he hated yuta, it was just.. he always had to appear whenever he didn’t want him to. then he would mess his mood. he interrupted his joy of admiring you. jaehyun licked his lips to dampen them. “i’m sorry, who are you to tell me what to do?”

yuta grinned and leaned against the column as he mirrored jaehyun. “don’t you get it?” he asked, his tone rising. “i love y/n. you entering the picture just ruins everything.”

my hunch’s correct. he does love y/n. “if you love her you wouldn’t ignore her.”

“it’s because you’re with her! and she does the same to me! it’s like she’s found someone else-”

“you’re being dramatic.” jaehyun pushed himself off the column and turned to him. “y/n’s sad and moping around because you treated her like she’s all alone. you have no idea how much she waited for you to contact her.”

“what do you know, smartass? you’re just another guy trying to fit in when you know you couldn’t. no matter how much you tried, everyone’s afraid of you. and now you’re telling me you have feelings for y/n? please.” his lips jutted with sounds of disbelief while his body posture challenged jaehyun. “y/n’s kind to everyone she meets. it’s who she is. but to think you have hope to be with someone like her? if you ask me, all i see is a greatest mismatch.”

jaehyun usually didn’t give a damn of the comments about him. he couldn’t care less of any of those. in fact he’d hear them through one ear and out they went. but when he said anything, it irked him.

you see, that was the thing— right now, he actually listened.

he turned a blind eye on yuta’s words and let it off for the night. he was given a drink and maybe the alcohol didn’t work its way on him than it did to guy. in the end, yuta was probably spilling tea even if he didn’t intend to.

“what i feel for y/n has nothing to do with you. just like people can’t control the tides,” jaehyun lightly knocked onto yuta’s chest. “i can’t control mine.”

the footsteps echoed in yuta’s ears, he could hear them despite the noisy hall. “rghhh!” he grabbed hold of his glass and threw it towards jaehyun.

sounds of shattering glass met the ground, as well as catching everyone’s attention. then there was silence. jaehyun began to lose his patience as he turned around. his smirk challenged him. ouch. this was the fight yuta was looking for, seeing jaehyun’s heavy breaths only made him stand on his toes.

jaehyun punched him in the jaw though he knew it wasn’t worth his time. but he wanted to give him a taste of stepping beyond boundaries. yuta punched him back too. he made sure the star of the night was the other— shone the brightest and reveal his true nature. he didn’t count the number of hits he received, as long as jaehyun stayed that way.

“i told you it wouldn’t be good if you provoked me!” jaehyun growled. “you’re asking for show? i’ll give you one!”

“huh..” yuta wiped his bleeding lip. “you sure about that, beast?”

jaehyun held himself for the next punch, feeling all of the pairs of eyes on him. yours included. that was what he feared. “aw. what impression does she have on you now?” yuta’s cooing words caused jaehyun’s eyes to soften.

all bleeding and bruised, jaehyun’s injuries have matched with his suit. he clenched his fists as he frustratingly left the hall.

in your peripheral, your eyes trailed his direction and your legs followed him by heart, without realising yuta calling out your name several times. everything went blank, not thinking things straight because while everyone watched, no one understood. you glared at yuta before heading outside, a more disappointed sigh was the only response he got from you.

yuta was then nudged by sicheng. the latter could see the change in his expression. “what did i tell you?”

“you don’t have to tell me.” yuta dusted his pants.

“i’m still gonna.” sicheng rolled his eyes and poked the lad’s temple. “that’s what you call ‘stupidity’. if only you confessed to her before maybe things would be different between you guys.”

“i don’t want things to be different dude.”

“i’m gonna state the obvious, you probably already know this but.. you lost this battle.”

“crap..” yuta’s voice changed from a nervous chuckle to a soft sob. “i liked her first.”

you spotted jaehyun sitting atop a metal barrier just in front of the carpark— head down to mend his injuries and scratches. he sniffed from the cool night breeze before hopping off. “you’ll hurt your feet.” he pointed at the heels you had dangling in your hands.

his gaze softened when you pointed at his face, especially the black eye. “touché.” he chuckled, later feeling your cold hands against his throbbing flesh. “it’s no big deal-”

“i’m sorry about yuta’s behaviour.” you sighed. “don’t let it get into you. he’s an airhead when he’s drunk-”

“you sure? he seemed pretty sober when he said- ah.” he pursed his lips to speak any further. “nevermind.”

now that gotten you curious. “what did he say? spill it!” you whined, causing jaehyun mouth to curve a little in amusement.

jaehyun prolonged the silence and grabbed your shoes, leading you towards his car. once he unlocked it and opened the door, he bursted out in a loud, healthy laugh. “he said he was head over heels for you.”

you pushed him to the driver’s seat and slammed the door, rolling your eyes at the pun. “that was so lame!” you sat on the other side. “but i know that already if you thought i didn’t. i subtly turned him down ages ago. guess he didn’t take the message.”

“clearly.”

as you tended to his wounds, one question still had your curiosity at its peak. jaehyun was quiet through-out, so it was hard to bring the topic up for a while. until your eyes and his met.

“what did you tell him before he threw the glass at you?” you dabbed the cotton onto the beaten area. “it must’ve pissed him.”

he dropped his car keys and let out a nervous hum. “uh..” he didn’t know what else to say. right when he was finally about to tell you, you suddenly giggled.

“unless you told him you like me and that made him angry, but i doubt that happened.” your lips shrank to a circle, cursing at yourself for assuming too much. girl the guts you have was incomparable—

jaehyun’s large hand held yours while you continued to apply medication. the warmth, the heat and the building tension of skinship made you weak. “you’re right.”

your smile and breaths changed in an instant when he fixed himself on the seat. he smirked a little, finding how cute you were. it drove him crazy.

“i like you, for the longest time, since the orientation. i’m so into you that i couldn’t help myself be selfish and have you to myself— i- i don’t know what i’m saying.” he sighed, pushing himself away in embarrassment with arms above his face.

“t-thanks.” you fiddled with your fingers.

“i’m not asking for an answer. i just wanted to let you know.” he said. “gosh this is a bad timing for confession.”

“then is it a bad timing if i said i’m into you too?” you looked away and out in the distance. you could see his reaction on the window’s reflection. he was shocked, but an uncontrollable smile was forcing itself on the surface. it was written in the dimples.

“no,” his husky voice called you to look back. “you’re just about right.”

[mystic-deep]

“Whipped Cream” - Part 3 | Nanami Kento fem!reader

♡ ♡ ♡ description: Taking cooking classes seemed like a nice way to relax and sharpen your skills, too bad the teacher hates you.

♡ ♡ ♡ warnings: nsfw, explicit content not suitable for minors, oral-giving and receiving, fingering

♡ ♡ ♡ notes: Part 3 took forever because of a busy week, I really apologize for that! Part 4 will come out sooner, hopefully tomorrow if everything goes well haha. As always, please excuse any mistakes!

♡ ♡ ♡ previous parts: Part 1, Part 2

♡ ♡ ♡ word count: 2.6k

Saturday at 5 PM, you stared at the message so many times it felt like it was imprinted in your retina. Just the day and the hour, because he must have thought that no other details were necessary.

You couldn’t concentrate the whole day and because of that you ended up messing your end of the week report. That translated in staying overtime and missing your Friday cooking class. When you sent Nanami a message telling him you probably couldn’t make it, he bluntly replied that you need to contact their secretary because she is the one who handles the schedule. Funny, he had no problem contacting you when it came to setting up a meeting for that lesson.

You were so tired when you reached your apartment that you didn’t even bother with dinner, you just took a shower and rolled into bed. Despite your hard day, you simply couldn’t fall asleep. What in God’s given name made you think you could pull this off? Starting an affair with your teacher, like some high school fantasy, except you weren’t a teen anymore and you knew the consequences. On the other hand, you were both adults and it’s not like a relationship between the two of you would be so scandalous. Except, this wasn’t a relationship, and you needed to remind yourself that.

Sleep finally took hold of you and you woke up on Saturday morning feeling like you had wrestled a bear. So much for a good night sleep to help with your complexion. You had cancelled all previous plans you had for the day, despite the whining of your best friend whom you were supposed to meet in the afternoon, and focused on getting ready for your lesson. You weren’t this nervous even on the day of your prom.

Bath, scrub, face mask, the whole deal and you hoped his dick was worth all this effort. When it came to clothes, obviously you chose a skirt this time around, because weren’t you such a nice girl, and a light coloured buttoned shirt. You wanted something simple, classy, that fitted your body well enough but wouldn’t scream ‘I want you to fuck me on your desk’, although that was the plan.

When it was nearly a quarter past 4, you grabbed your bag, coat and car keys and headed out the door. The car ride took longer than usual, due to the whole Saturday traffic, and you were starting to get impatient.

If you had any confidence that you could actually pull this off, it all disappeared the second you set foot in the elevator that would lead you to the lobby. Seeing your reflection in the metal doors made everything feel very real and you actually thought of turning back. Yet as the doors opened, you stepped out and took a deep breath. At the end of the day you were also here to learn what you had missed on the previous classes, thus you could just do that and refuse the extra lesson.

With that thought in mind, and new found confidence, you moved towards the reception desk, surprised that you didn’t find anyone there. Actually, the whole place looked empty, such a contrast from the busy week days.

You walked to your classrooms and when you reached the door you gave it a light knock.

“Come in.”

Nanami’s voice startled you, as though you were surprised that he was actually there. You opened the door slowly and peeked inside, finding him reading the newspaper with his glasses on. The image kind of shocked you, it seemed so domestic that your mind couldn’t help but wonder how he would look sitting like this at your kitchen table, early in the morning, with his blond hair slightly messy, a large cup of steaming coffee in front of him. You shook your head, pushing such silly thoughts aside. Daydreaming of something that will never happen wouldn’t do you any good.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Don’t be silly.” He took off his reading glasses and folded the newspaper neatly. “You are surprisingly on time for once.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment before stepping inside and closing the door.

“Place feels kind of empty.”

“That’s because I don’t have my employees work on weekends.” His what now? Seeing your surprised expression he continued. “I own this school.” Well that explained the expensive car.

“Now then, let’s not waste anymore time, we have two recipes we need to make.” With that said, you put your apron on and work began.

For almost an hour and a half you worked on your Paris Brest and then on the perfect poached eggs. It made quite a difference to have such a skilled cook by your side giving you instruction left and right. His attitude was different from your previous classes but maybe this was also because this time you were keen to listen and learn.

It was quite a nice atmosphere and you felt yourself relax while doing what you enjoyed most. Time seemed to pass by in an instant and now your dessert was in the fridge while the two eggs that you had made were eaten with toasted English muffins that Nanami had baked himself earlier that day.

After everything was done, you two began to clean the dishes. He explained that the cleaning lady that usually took care of them at the end of every class will only be back on Monday morning and he didn’t want to leave them in the sink.

“Seems everything is in order now.” He placed the very last bowl in the cabinet before turning to look at you. “I think it’s time we start our extra lesson.”

You stood there, almost petrified, as his hands reached for your apron and slowly took it off. A mix of emotions washed over you as he took you gently by the wrist and you followed him into the nearby office.

With a click, the door was locked and his lips were now hungrily devouring yours. You leaned back on the closed door as your arms wrapped around his shoulders for support. Your worries seemed to disappear as his hands began to trace every single curve of your body. When he pulled away from the kiss you were both out of breath, a glimpse of hunger reflecting in your eyes.

“Are you sure about this?” He looked at you with just a hint of concern and you nodded shortly. You wanted this, no doubt about it, but would you be able to handle the consequences?

“Why me?” Your words took him by surprise and he pulled away just slightly.

“Why not you?”

“I’m not joking, I need to know-”

“If you can trust me?” He let out a small chuckle and his hand gently caressed your cheek. “You remind me of someone. I felt it the second I saw you in my class and if life taught me anything is that I shouldn’t ignore my instinct.” With that he pulled away and reached for the door knob.

“I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, I’ve told you that last time. You can just walk out the door and-” He didn’t get to finish his sentence, your hands grabbing the collar of his white shirt, pulling him in for a deep kiss.

Every single part of you wanted him. You wanted to know how he felt like, how he tasted like, you wanted him to know what you tasted like. You didn’t bother asking him whom you reminded him of, it didn’t matter. This wasn’t going to be a relationship, no point in complicating things.

“Well, you sure answered my question.” He looked amused when you finally pulled away, yet that amusement was quickly replaced by a serious expression.

“Tell me you want this.”

“I want this.”

“Did you already forget the rules?”

“I really want this...sir.”

With a quick movement he pulled you to the couch. He positioned your body so that your hands were gripping the back pillows while your knees were resting on the cushion. His hands came from behind to cup your breasts and he began to massage them gently through the fabric.

“I see you chose to wear a skirt today. Isn’t it a bit chilly outside?” He seemed amused as his right hand rested between your thighs while the left continued to knead your chest. His hands were quite skilful, just a few touches and you could already feel your panties sticking to your wet core.

“I’m giving you extra points for wearing something that would give me...easier access.” His hand ventured furthered up your thigh and brushed against the fabric of your panties, making you shudder from head to toe. God, he was moving so slow, it was almost torture.

Just as you were about to ask him to touch you more, he retrieved his hand and practically ripped your shirt opened. He harshly pulled on your bra, releasing your breasts before cupping them and twisting your nipples between his fingers. The movements were so sudden that you let out a shriek, a feeling of painful delight washing over you.

“Not so loud.” He whispered in your ear, voice low and filled with lust. You wondered if there were other people in the building. He said that the other employees didn’t work on weekends but you were sure there must have been security guards. You needed to keep your voice down no matter how much you wanted to scream his name.

His hands left your breasts, moving down to grip your waist before moving down further at the hem of your skirt. He pulled the material up to reveal your ass and you felt your face turning bright red. You turned to look at him and caught his hungry expression as his eyes were fixed on your clothed crotch.

“Pulled them down.” You blinked, your mind not being able to register his words. “Pull your panties down.” You sucked in a breath and with shaking hands you let go of the couch frame before moving to pull your panties down to your knees.

The cold air from the room made you shiver, or was it perhaps the way he was now inspecting you with his eyes. You never felt more exposed, sitting with your legs spread, pussy twitching hoping for any kind of attention from his part. As though he could read your mind, he parted your legs even further, burying his face between them.

When you felt his hot breath on you swollen lips you thought you were going to scream in frustration. He didn’t make you wait long, his mouth eating you out like you were his favourite desert. You let your forehead rest on your arm and bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from moaning loudly. His tongue began to vigorously lap on your juices as one of his fingers pushed inside of you. He began to pump his finger in a slow rhythm, stretching you as much as possible before adding another digit.

“So close...please. Please, sensei.” You didn’t even know what you were saying, words and gasps were just escaping your lips uncontrollably. Feeling your walls clenching around his fingers, Nanami let his tongue push against your clit, causing you to whimper.

The hand that wasn’t working on your hole moved up your body, caressing your breast before twisting the nipple. By this time you were moving your hips back against his hand, furiously meeting his thrusts. He suddenly pushed his digits further, deep inside of you and sucked harshly on your clit, sending you over the edge.

Every single muscle in your body tensed and you knew that if you could scream, it would shatter you. Your climax came with hushed sobs, tearing through you like lighting. He retrieved his fingers from inside your hole as your eyes opened, still bleary with tears. You looked at the wall, trying to adjust your vision, before glancing back at his devilish smile. He must have felt damn proud to make you cum like this.

“That was good, you came beautifully for me.” He brushed the sweat away from your forehead before placing a gentle kiss. You watched him as he pulled back, his hand reaching for the zipper of his pants.

He didn’t have to say anything, your heart pounding in your chest as you moved your position. You were now on your knees on the soft carpet, waiting eagerly for him to release his cock. He held himself with one hand while the other reached for the back of your head, giving you a little push.

You took that as your sign and licked your lips before moving your face closer. You opened your mouth and he guided himself deep inside of you. Your pussy was dripping and you found yourself pumping your hips in time with his movements. You felt that he was close, his thrusts becoming almost frantic.

He pumped into you a few more times before letting out a groan and erupting into your mouth. You eagerly took all that he had to offer, and despite the gagging reflex, you managed to swallow everything. He looked down at you with the same devilish smile before pulling you off of him slowly.

“You did good, for most part.”

“I think I did perfect, sir.” You tried to stand up but your knees felt weak so he offered you his hand.

“Cheeky already? Although I suppose we’re finished for today.” You agreed, feeling satisfied for now.

After getting yourself cleaned and rearranging your wrinkled clothes, you both sat down on the couch, your head resting on his shoulder while his hand rubbed your back. You could have fallen asleep just like this, although you knew it was only a matter of minutes before you had to part.

“What do you think of your first lesson?”

“Didn’t learn much, did I?” His hand reached for one of your cheeks and he gave it a light pinch.

“Well then I apologize, I promise to be stricter for our next lessons.” His words might have sounded like a joke but the intensity of his gazed made your stomach do flips.

“You should go home.” You nodded and slowly got up from the couch.

He stood as well and went to unlock and open the door. As you stood in the door frame you gazed up at him and hoped for a kiss goodbye but he made no movement. Once the door was opened your relationship went back to a normal student-teacher one.

“I’ll be seeing you on Monday. No more excuses.” His face was stern this time, as to make you understand that skipping classes was no longer accepted.

“On Monday, and for the extra lesson-”

“I’ll text you.” That was all and you knew the conversation was over. You said your short farewells before you grabbed your coat and bag and left the classroom.

You reached your apartment and threw all your clothes in the laundry basket, feeling the need to take a shower but at the same time wanting this sticky feeling between your legs to last longer. After each meeting with Nanami you ended up craving more and more of his touch. You couldn’t wait for the next private lesson, but until then you had to play nice and attend the classes during the week.

As the hot water washed over your body your mind drifted to Nanami’s face, how concentrated he looked when he was giving you instructions, how relaxed he looked while reading the paper, how pleased he looked when you finished the desert. Your eyes suddenly popped open and you let out swear. You had forgotten the desert in the fridge-all that work and you didn’t even get to taste it.

[fumbling-fanfics]

Nestor Oceteva x Reader - Walk In's Welcome

Paring: Nestor Oceteva and Reader

Warnings: None really, there is a mention of blood. Nestor being cute

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I have a part 2 to this sort of in progress...if people even care about part 1.

I don't recall any requests for tags, so I'm copying from an old fic.

Please let me know what you think. Ans yes, there will probably be smut in part 2

******************************************************

"Your man's here" Clara's sing-song tone was accompanied by a nudge that was delivered so hard it nearly sent your phone flying onto the salon floor.

With a quick fumble, you recovered your phone in your hands and looked up. Nestor Oceteva was walking through the salon door, his familiar yellow glasses on. You said nothing to Clara not wanting to give her any more reason to tease you.

As usual the mood in the salon immediately changed, everyone spoke a little quieter. Waiting to hear what he would say. Your cousin, Ava, looked at you in the reflection of the mirror as she stood at a salon chair, braiding a client's hair. You slightly nodded at her as you slid off the stool behind the front counter.

***

When your cousin had asked you to help her out 18 months ago, you said yes without hesitation. You too were close, almost like sisters and itbwas only weekends which you had free.

While Ava did the hair and the hiring of other hairdresser's, you mainly saw to the book keeping, counting the money and keeping the shop tidy. 

You'd slightly been promoted to children's hairdresser - after offering to step in and simply braid a young girl's hair at the desperate peel of the mother. From then on the other girls in the shop were more than happy to pass the children client's your way.

And then Nestor walked in one day. Everyone, including you, knew of him and who he worked for. It was no secret. 

The atmosphere changed as he stepped into the shop and up the desk in the reception area. When you first looked up at him, he hesitated but didn't remove his yellow glasses.

Your cousin, Ava, stepped up beside you to hear what he had to say. After all it was her business. 

"You got anyone who can do these again" he pointed to his hair. You looked to all the stations in the salon, the girls who were working were all suddenly very quiet, heads down, nothing to say or once. 

"Probably not for a while, how long you got?" Ava asked, adjusting the synthetic braiding hair on her shoulder a little.

"How long I gotta wait?" Ava looked around her shop herself. "Maybe a few hours at least" she looked apologetically at him. He sighed.

"I can do it, it'll mean no one will be up here, but I can do it" Ava looked at you in surprise. 

You smiled at Nestor. "Take a seat over there" you pointed to a chair in the waiting room section. He nodded and did as you asked.

"Y/n, are you sure" Ava stepped in front of you as you slid off the stool. She seemed worried.

"Yeah, it's fine" you smiled and stepped past Ava. Everyone in the shop watched you as you walked towards Nestor.

"Did you want a wash as well?" Nestor paused and then nodded. "Yeah"

You directed Nestor into the wash chair towards the back. You draped a towel around his neck and the salon across his front and got him settled in the wash chair.

"Do you use anything in particular on your hair?" You asked your undid the first braid. Nestor shook his head. "Use whatever" he shrugged. He removed his glasses and tucked them under the salon gown.

And it started from there. Every 2 or 3 weeks Nestor would turn up at the shop. You take him through to the back, undo his braids, wash and condition his hair, and re braid his hair.

Nestor enjoyed the whole process. He'd been to hairdresser's before, but this shop and this experience was different. He especially loved when you washed hair. 

He loved how you made the water perfect temperature.

He loved how your fingers felt when you really got stuck in and massaged his scalp. It was sometimes too good.

He loved when you leaned over him, you smelt so nice. He was jealous of whoever got to smell you and be that close.

He loved when you did the parting down the middle of his hair. How you took at least 5 minutes to get it straight - sometimes asking for another opinion from one of the other girls or your cousin. Even though it was perfect.

He loved how you braided his hair damp, taking time to work in moisturiser. How your fingers felt against his scalp and running through his hair.

He loved how you worked in silence, giving him a break. He was free to just lay back and listen to the low sound of whatever music was playing. Or even sleep a little.

He especially loved that time he turned up a week early and when you washed his hair the water ran a dried blood red brown. He watched your face for an expression when you paused. "That's not mine" he mumbled. "Okay, so long as you're good" he nodded and closed his eyes. No one had asked if he was okay. No one but you.

He hated the end, when you'd finished braiding his hair and your hands fell away from his head. Sometimes he wanted to say he didn't like it so he could have you do it again. But he realised that was a silly idea and would get you into trouble no doubt.

***

As you tidied up and Nestor sorted himself out to pay and leave, he took the courage to ask you 1 of 2 questions he'd been dying to ask you for a while now.

"Don't you have a chair up front, like the other girls?" While your cousin's salon had 14 seats out in the main area, and 5 sinks for washing, you never did Nestor's hair out in one of the front seats. It was always done in a back seat, past the washing sinks.

"Technically I'm not a hairdresser" you laughed. Nestor frowned, confused. If you weren't a hairdresser what had you been doing for the last 6 months.

"I'm only meant to be helping my cousin out with the books and when it's busy really. I only kind of got lumped doing kids hair because no one else really has patients for them but I like them" you tossed the used towels into the used basket on the industrial washer.

"Ava employed a barber for a minute, until they started messing around and then his pregnant girlfriend showed up. She almost trashed the shop. Anyway, Ava never replaced him, and it's the only chair free so I use it. Plus the kids can play their games or shows as loud as they want back here and not bother anyone" Nestor had more questions now but was silenced by the arrival of one of your other usual clients.

"I maded you this" Aaron shouted waving a piece of paper in the air and he ran towards you through the shop. Not wanting to hold you up any longer Nestor slipped you the money he owed, winked at you and left.

He'd never winked at you before, and he even wondered why he did it.

***

Without a word Nestor walked through the salon to the back like he's done a million times before. He took his usual seat and waited for you to follow.

Nestor undid his blazer and shrugged it off. He took off his waistcoat too, just leaving his gun holster on. He took a seat in the chair "Could you trim my hair today too?" You paused, hands still on his shoulders over the towel, a little worried at the new request.

"I've never trimmed hair before" you frowned. "I think we'd have to do it dry"

The trim wasn't as terrifying as you expected. You just went with it, cutting to get rid of split ends.

It was a quiet day so when Nestor left, you took a seat up behind the front counter. Just as you were about to ring up the money the door chimed and Nestor walked back in.

"Can I ask you a question, and don't feel like you have to say yes or anything?"

"Yeah, sure…"

"Erm, I was...I was just wondering if you wanted to go for a drink and something to eat? When your finished, later"

You paused, your heart rate increasing. Heat flushing to your cheeks. Nestors, shifted on the spot. You mouth was a little dry.

"Of course. That would be really nice" you smiled. 

With a smile himself, he nodded slowly and then left the salon. Again.

Ava appeared behind you at the counter.  "What happened, why did he come back in? Did he leave something?"

You pressed 'sale' on the register, entered the amount Nestor had given you and pressed enter. The register chimed and the cash tray shot out. You added the money and closed the cash tray.

"No...he asked me if I wanted to go for a drink" 

Ava looked at you and for a split second it was like time stood still. She slowly opened her mouth, but you interrupted her.

"It's fine. I said yes. I want to too" Ava's shock turned into a devious smirk.

"Oh, gurl! You like like him" she whispered the last part, looking over her shoulder.

"Don't tell any of these bitches here, they'll sell you down the river quick" she clicked her fingers.

"Use my place to get ready...and if you want you can take him back there too" Ava poked your ribs with a laugh.

You grabbed her hand "I'm not doing that! I think I like him, so I'm definitely not doing it" you whispered.

*******************************************************

Tags:

@ellixthea @lovelymari4 @chaneajoyyy @honeychicana @beaminglife @amelatonin @themyscxiras @my-rosegold-soul @lady-olive-oil @jojolu @endless00paradise @est1887 @cajunpeach @melinda-january @profoundlynerdywolf @deathonyourtongue @designerwriterchic @itsbqueenthings @alicesfracturedmirror @joebob15274 @write-fromthe-start @islanddgal @tarashari-tfp @dc41896 @princess-evans-addict @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes @c-qcat @crushed-pink-petals-writes

[giuliafc]

Betrayal

Chapter 1: A Frightening Discovery

Ao3 || FFN

Written by: JuliaFC

Beta: Miraculyfe, Coffeebanana, @lots-of-free-time myimaginationflows

Summary: A quick chat with Nathalie leaves Chat Noir terrified. She needs him to pass on a message to Ladybug. And that message changes everything.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by (c) Thomas Astruc, TS1 Bouygues, Disney Channel, Zagtoon, Toei Animation. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Written for the "Snippet July" challenge of the Miraculous Fanworks Discord server @miraculousfanworks AND for LadyNoir July @ladynoirjuly Day 12 — Betrayal/Blush. Let me know what you think!

oOoOoOoOoOo

"Adrien, wait!"

Chat Noir froze. He had just started the recording on top of his piano, transformed and walked towards his window to jump out and join his Lady for patrol. The very last thing he would have ever expected to hear was Nathalie calling his civilian name, addressing his transformed self.

He slowly turned, feeling his heart pounding in his ears. He looked at Nathalie standing tall, albeit a little pale, in front of the entrance of his room.

"E-excuse me?" he asked, praying that Nathalie would believe that he and Ladybug had just abducted Adrien, but his lie died at the tip of his tongue when he met Nathalie's unimpressed gaze.

"I saw you transforming. Multiple times, Adrien. Save your excuses for someone else. And sit down, I need to talk to you." She adjusted her glasses unnecessarily, a gesture Adrien knew she did when she was nervous or annoyed. He replaced his baton behind his back and sat at his desk chair, his heart still drumming—he was so in trouble. Nathalie began to walk towards him, but staggered badly and held onto the wall next to her.

"Nathalie! Nathalie take a seat, please!" He stood to offer his seat, but Nathalie shook her head and gingerly walked towards his bed, sitting down at the edge of it.

"Some time ago, I came into your room to inform you of a photoshoot schedule change. I found your ipod playing the music you should have been playing, like now." She must've noticed that he'd paled, because she reassured, "I haven't told your father."

Chat Noir breathed a sigh of relief.

"W-what did you want to talk about? I'm meeting Ladybug for patrol in a few minutes." He blushed profusely and looked down, a hand on his nape. "Or m-maybe not…"

Nathalie's smile was stern. "You will. And you'll pass on a message to Ladybug, on my behalf."

oOoOoOoOoOo

Chat Noir was still as pale as a sheet when he sat atop the usual rooftop where he and Ladybug met for patrol. She was late. Why was she late, today of all days?

His heart was beating madly in his chest as he kept looking around: left, right, ahead, behind. In the space of five minutes he stood up to pace the rooftop at least forty times. He kept looking around and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the familiar thump behind him.

"Sorry, Chaton. I didn't want to scare you!" He turned around and the girl was shocked to see the tears streaming down his eyes. "Oh my God, Minou, what happened to you?"

"M-my housekeeper found out my identity," he whimpered, not daring to look Ladybug in the eye, especially after he heard her suck her breath in.

"Oh God, this is a—" started Ladybug, but Chat Noir cut her off:

"My father is Papillombre, M'lady." He inhaled the most painful breath of his life. "My housekeeper was Mayura, but now is sick and my f-father had to unify the Miraculouses." His legs failed him and he crashed on the rooftop, unable to withhold his sobs. "She discovered my identity when she was controlling Optigami." He felt Ladybug's arm wrapping around his shoulders and hugged her back, finally letting out all the pain he had been keeping in.

"Oh, Chat Noir, I'm so sorry," she whispered. She moved a hand to his hair and patted it softly, her fingers found the back of his ears and rubbed a soft spot. Chat Noir started purring; Ladybug's lips curled in a smile.

Finally, after a very long time, the boy's sobs stopped shaking his frame and he removed himself from the hug, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Better?" she whispered, the soft smile still curling her lips.

He nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry for breaking down like this."

"I am sorry, Minou. I didn't expect any of what you said." She stroked his cheek gently, as Chat Noir sniffled once more and looked away. "How do we know we can trust her?"

"She's putting everything that she holds dear to her on the line, M'lady. She… she loves him. My father, I mean."

"Right. Because she loves him, we can't trust her. What does she want? Why did she tell you about all this mess? Could it be part of Papillombre's plan?"

He gave her such an intense look that she thanked the stars she had sat on the rooftop to hug him, because her knees felt like jelly. "She could have told him my identity. She's known for a while. She wants to talk to both of us. She said that she was happy to help him until now, but apparently…" He sniffled again. "Father decided that it was a great idea to akumatise me." He looked up at Ladybug's loud gasp. "Yes, she told me that he'd never wanted to hurt me, so he'd never thought of using my emotions to create a new akuma. But recently he had learned some new information and had changed his mind. She was scared of the implications of him akumatising the wielder of the Black Cat, but she couldn't tell him so she decided to reach out."

"Makes sense," Ladybug muttered. "And she's wise for fearing your akumatisation. Does she want to meet us now?"

Chat Noir nodded. "Yes. She's bed-ridden and can barely walk; she asked us to go to her." Ladybug raised an eyebrow, so he continued, "M'lady, the second I tell you my father's name you'll know who I am. The secret is off."

"Yes but… maybe this… housekeeper…" she started.

"Nathalie," Chat Noir declared. "Nathalie Sancœur."

Ladybug's face blanched, as her bluebell's eyes widened in shock. "Wha…? This m-means that your f-father is…"

Chat nodded and gulped dryly before saying it, "Gabriel Agreste." He blushed crimson under her shocked stare. "And I’m… Adrien."

To be continued… day 13

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Author's Note

Ok, ok, before you attempt murder here, I need to let you know that I will continue this. Tomorrow. And probably the day after too. Happy? When I saw the prompts, well… I just thought that they were marrying REALLY well together. So there you go, sorry for keeping you on tenterhooks.

I hope you like this idea and will leave me a comment. You know that comments are my bread and butter! I love reading your feedback, and this is a VERY different story from other ones I've done, so your input will be even more appreciated.

Until (hopefully) tomorrow, bug out!

[professorsnape394]

The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Fifteen: Three Professors

A/N: This is the fifteenth part to my fanfiction ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-16 can be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 2001

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

Within the week the gossiping from the weekend's events had almost completely died down. However, with Severus and Aria acting civil towards one another during lessons, and almost completely back to their old habits of spending the evening together a whole new set of rumours were threatening to begin.

Karkaroff had mostly backed off Aria's case on the Severus front. However, this did not mean he had any intention of stopping socialising with her any chance he got. Igor had become invested in the relationship of the two potions professors' and he would not stop until he had the answers he was looking for. He took to visiting her during the majority of her free periods, as well as some evenings after class, often convincing her to join him for a stroll around the castle grounds, where he sought to pry into her personal life, especially her relationship with the potions master. It didn't bother Aria too much to begin with, in fact, she liked the company, but as the week grew to an end, she had become suspicious of his true intentions.

Almost immediately as lessons came to an end on Friday evening, right on cue, came a knock at the door. Before the potions apprentice had a second to open her mouth, the door was already pushed ajar, revealing the sunken features of Igor Karkaroff.

"Hello Igor." Aria sighed, barely sparing him a second glance.

"Good afternoon, beautiful lady" Igor chirped, his accent almost thicker than usual. Aria rolled her eyes at the headmaster, but chuckled lightly to herself in amusement. "Are you free to join me on a leisurely stroll around the castle?" He queried, striding into the center of the room, taking a seat behind one of the student's desks.

"Are you mad, Igor? The rain hasn't stopped all day! Besides, Professor Snape set a load of essays last week, that I have the pleasure to mark. I don't think I would be much in the way of conversation today, I have too much to do." She confessed, attempted to dissuade him.

"Nevertheless, I shall keep you company. I do not have anywhere to be."

"Thank you." Aria grimaced, really just wanting to focus on getting her marking done.

"Speaking of Severus..." Karkaroff begun, once again distracting Miss Dumbledore from her work. "There have been rumours of the two of you circling the school." He stated, leaving the intention of his sentence free for Aria to interpret.

"I am very well aware, Igor." She huffed. "Though they have begun to fizzle out in the last few days, I am pleased to say." The witch continued scribbling.

"That is not what I am talking about." The man shook his head, though kept his gaze firmly on the professor in an interrogative manner.

Aria raised an eyebrow, but did not stop reading the length of parchment.

"It has been said in this past week that you have entered into a relationship with the potions master, is this true?"

"God Igor, I never thought you so naïve that you would believe that sort of rubbish." She sniggered, allowing him a smidge more of her attention. "Like I would ever go out with a man like that, you surely heard what he said to me last week, it is unforgivable." Aria scoffed. "Besides, you should know just as well as I that people love to talk, students especially. Haven't you heard the one about us? It's all a load of nonsense, don't listen to any of it."

"I was simply... curious." He shrugged. "I would not like to think a beautiful woman such as yourself had gone to waste, like you say Severus Snape is simply not worth your time. You deserve much more."

"Thank you, Igor, however I do not think this is an appropriate conversation to have between colleagues, let's keep it professional." Aria suggested, noticing that the headmaster had a tendency to sidetrack the conversation to her love life.

A minute or more passed while the pair sat in silence before another knock interrupted.

Assuming it to be a student, Aria rose from her desk and made her way to the door. "Severus." She gasped, not expecting him to respect her privacy, just as Karkaroff had not. "You knocked?... again." Aria's eyes widened, taking a step back as she came face to face with the potions master.

"Yes, well, while I am not overjoyed with the current arrangements, I at least respect your need for some privacy." Severus wavered at the door, his eyes flickering towards the young woman, before taking it upon himself to enter the room, stopping almost immediately upon spotting Igor.

"I see I was right to to announce myself." The two men shared a short but intense glare. "Igor. I see you've made yourself quite at home."

"Oh... umm, Professor Karkaroff had just stopped by for a chat while I finish up on some marking." Aria rushed to explain, knowing exactly where Snape's mind was heading. "What can I do for you, Severus?"

"I came to collect the essays I assigned last week, I did not think it fair to leave them all to you while I sat in my room twiddling my thumbs."

"That's very kind of you Severus. Would you care to join us, you look like you could use the company." Aria practically begged.

Severus considered her offer for a second, knowing that what he wanted least of all was to spend time with Igor Karkaroff. However, on the other hand, he also wasn't too keen on leaving the pair alone, unsure of what he might spill to his apprentice. In the end Snape's better judgment overcame his pride and so he proceeded to pull up a chair, separating the two already seated professors.

Severus set to aggressively scribbling notes in the margins of the students essays, the scratching of his quill on parchment dominating the room. A long while past with only this and the sounds of bubbling cauldrons occupying the professors' ears. The tension between the three thickened as time went on. All scared to speak in fear of the other's response.

Finally Igor chose to break the silence, bored of staring at the potion's professors quietly marking away in unison.

"It must be hard for you Severus." Igor tested the waters, waiting on a response.

"What are you hinting at, Igor? What exactly is hard for me?" Snape replied cautiously after a moment of deliberation.

"Well, a man like you; settled in his position, proud of his job, it must be hard knowing you'll be replaced by a must younger, much more attractive model." Karkaroff shifted position in his chair, becoming more comfortable, confident in his ability to undermine the Potions master once again.

"Despite what you may have hoped Igor, you are sorely mistaken. My job is under no threat. I was simply asked to take a short week's sabbatical, in light of the recent events, until all the commotion has died down. And that week is coming to an end." Snape turned his attention from the essays, lifting his quill from the paper, and placing it to the side.

"Yes, yes of course." Igor humoured him. His body language radiating arrogance. "But it must be worrying, knowing that your job is potentially threatened by Miss Dumbledore here. She has the same skills as you, the same knowledge, and what she doesn't know now she soon will once you've been foolish enough to teach it to her. It cannot be easy, being forced to train the woman who will inevitability replace you."

"I do not know what your game is Igor, but I assure you, Miss Dumbledore is no threat to me."

Aria's ears pricked up at the second mention of her name, her gaze shooting between the two men.

"I really don't think this is relevant boys, can't we talk about something else?" Aria nervously nibbled on the edge of her lower lip. She knew where this was going and she didn't have an answer for what was coming. She also knew how vicious these men could be when they really wanted to, and she did not want to be in the room when they both pushed the other too far.

"Oh come on, Aria, darling. It must have crossed your mind. You are younger after all, the students relate to you more, god knows it wouldn't be hard to like you more. Not to mention your lineage, it cannot be more clear who Albus would prefer to employ. His own flesh and blood? Or someone with Severus'... background?"

"Watch your mouth, Igor." Snape droned through gritted teeth and flared nostrils.

"My grandfather didn't bring me here to replace Severus. He's a great professor, and a fantastic friend to him. I would even go as far to say that he trusts Severus' with his life. I am simply an apprentice. A year's training, that's what we agreed." Aria beamed, convinced she had put out the fire, unaware to the fact Igor had just lit another spark right under Severus' feet.

"With his life, eh?" Igor chuckled to himself. "How very clever you have been, Severus."

Confused Aria simply took a step back in the conversation, finally coming to the understanding that none of this was really about her.

Aria could sense Snape was uncomfortable, his body tensed and he straightened his posture, gripping his quill for comfort.

"I think it is time for you to leave, Headmaster Karkaroff. Miss Dumbledore and I are working, and prefer not to be disturbed."

"I see your game, Severus. I always knew you were a smart man, but you have played this very well indeed. But I know you, and I might just be able to beat you at your own game, if you are not careful."

"What is he talking about Snape?" The young woman whispered, turning her full attention to her colleague.

"Goodbye, Igor." Karkaroff gladly took a stand, knowing, despite Snape's commanding tone, he had won this round.

Igor Karkaroff rounded the desk, gently lifting Aria Dumbledore's hand to his lips.

"Until, next time." He breathed, bowing his head to kiss her gently, before showing himself out. "Your past is calling you Severus, and Dumbledore is ready to replace you when you go running right back."

Snape immediately rose from his chair, Aria suspecting that he was ready to storm from the room.

"Fuck." Aria breathed, joining Snape in standing. "What the hell was all that about?"

"That is none of your concern." Snape snapped, beginning to pile his papers.

"Of course... of course, it isn't." Aria shook her head knowing it was a stupid thing to say. "I only meant... well, are you okay?" She couldn't think of anything else to say.

"While I appreciate your concern, Miss Dumbledore. I am not a child who needs consoling, nor do I need your pity. I am perfectly capable of handling the likes of Igor Karkaroff."

"Yes, of course, you are. I...I just-"

"Miss Dumbledore." Severus interjected, huffing though he didn't seem nearly as angry as Aria expected. He saw the woman quickly becoming flustered trying to think of the right thing to say so as not to displease him, this was not a rare occurrence. For once Severus' actually felt sorry for her and decided to cut her some slack. They had, after all, promised to become friends.

"I need you to calm down." Snape softly commanded, though quickly moved on. "While that encounter with Professor Karkaroff was less than pleasant, it is far from unfamiliar to me. Igor and I have a past. A past I would rather forget about, him, on the other hand, not so much. My advise to you is stay out of his way. I am under the impression he has his eye set on you."

"Why would he-"

"Goodnight, Miss Dumbledore." And with that Snape returned to his quarters for the evening, Aria's questions remaining unanswered.

What was Karkaroff up to that concerned her of all people?

Taglist:

@ayamenimthiriel​ @lizlil​

[wickedbxtchofthewest]

The Girl in the Bakery (Part 1)

It was another one of those days where Adrien Agreste just wanted to be someone else. Even with the glamorous lifestyle that came with his last name, there wasn’t anything that could outweigh Adrien’s craving of freedom. His entire life had been presented to him on a silver platter, except for the fateful day he received a black and red box. With Chat Noir, his superhero alter-ego, nothing stood in the way of being able to go wherever he wanted.

Maybe with the exception of Ladybug—not that he minded the hold that his partner-in-crime had on him. It was hard not to follow Ladybug anywhere she went, as her confident energy and natural leadership made her addicting to be around. 

She truly was the perfect woman in Adrien’s eyes. Beautiful, courageous, selfless, determined, yet stubborn, strict, and utterly irresistible. Ladybug was also a good kisser, not that Adrien would remember. The heroine in red had completely captured the heart of Paris, as well as her second in command. 

Rarely had Adrien been let out of the prison he called his home; however, with the powers of his miraculous, it was easy for him to escape out his window and into the world. He didn’t enjoy having to transform anytime he wanted fresh air, but it was the only way he wasn’t followed by his bodyguard or his father’s assistant, Nathalie. All he had to do was leave the record player on, echoing out the sound of Chopin or Beethoven, and he would get away with a few hours of free time. 

Usually, once Chat Noir’s feet hit the concrete of a deserted alleyway, he would turn back into Adrien and carry on his merry way--maybe take a walk through the park, get some ice cream, and avoid paparazzi as much as he could. But on this particular day, his leather suited counterpart seemed more appealing. Perhaps he was hoping to catch Ladybug on a daytime patrol or wanted to scale the Eiffel Tower, but something about staying Chat Noir just felt right.

He launched himself from roof to roof, occasionally waving at those who spotted him. His black ensemble made it harder for him to be seen due to the sky growing dark, but his green eyes and small yelps of joy made it very obvious to citizens which hero was out. Perched on the Louvre, Chat Noir hummed softly to himself. “Little kitty on the roof, all alone without his lady…”

“Chaton?” a voice spoke, ringing into the air with a sweet tone. Chat’s eyes darted up, settling on the blue eyed beauty standing behind him. A genuine grin stretched across his face, before replacing it with a smirk. Standing up quickly, Chat’s hand engulfed Ladybug’s and he pressed his lips to her knuckles in a playful kiss.

“Good evening Bugaboo,” Chat said, bowing slightly in a joking manner. “Nice of you to join me on this beautiful night.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes before taking a seat and gesturing for Chat to sit back down next to her. “It’s nice to see you too, kitty. But I can’t stay for long.”

Chat Noir’s smile fell before plopping himself next to his lady and clearing his throat. “Are you busy tonight?” he asked, realizing the disappointment in his voice. “Not that I can’t handle patrol by myself! And if there’s something you need to do, you can totally go do that.”

A light-hearted giggled escaped Ladybug’s mouth. “As much as I appreciate your concern, you know I can’t tell you to pro-”

“-tect our identities. I know. But you know that I care about you even without the mask. Whoever’s behind there, I still lo-” he cut himself off. “All I’m trying to say is that it’s not the end of the world if I know one detail about you. The real you.”

Ladybug stared at Chat for a few silent seconds, her lips pressed together in contemplation. She sighed, choosing her words carefully. Even though she knew it was a bad idea, something about his tone made her give in. “You know the bakery over on 12 Rue Gotlib?”

Chat nodded. His mom used to love their stuff. It was a rare treat he received, usually after more draining photoshoots, coming home to a box of chocolate croissants from Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie. After his mother’s passing, he hadn’t even thought of the small business. A sudden craving for sweets came over him.

“Well, sometimes I help out over there. I’m not an employee or anything, but the owners let me take care of the smaller tasks. Like delivering cakes or working the register,” she said, her voice turning less professional and more care-free. A soft expression blossomed on her face, making Chat’s heart melt. 

Finally. He knew something about the woman he was so helplessly in love with. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. It was enough. Chat smiled. “Thank you for telling me. You can go if you need. I can handle it if Mr.Pigeon gets akumatized again.”

Ladybug laughed. He loved her laugh. “See you later kitty! Bug out!” And then she was gone.

Chat found himself staring after her with a lovesick smile. “Bye m’lady.” 

Clearing his throat, Chat turned around and once again started jumping from roof to roof. Landing on top of his own manor, he was about to swing back into his room, but a sudden hunger stopped him. He knew Nathalie would call him to supper soon, but if he was going to end up eating alone, he was at least going to eat something he wanted. 

Not that he disliked the meals provided to him by his chef, but the diets and cleanses got a little overwhelming at times. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss the taste of a certain flaky, delicious pastry. 

Before he could even process what he was doing, Chat felt himself making his way to 12 Rue Gotlib. Staring at the lit up windows and catching a whiff of the sweet aroma, he suddenly dropped down and was standing in front of the cute building. Peeking inside through the glass door, Chat caught a glimpse of a girl sitting at the counter, idly doodling in a notebook. 

Something about her--her eyes, her dreamy intensity she had aimed at whatever she was drawing, or the way she looked like she needed someone to talk to-- drew him in. Chat’s breath got caught in his throat as she glanced up, causing him to dart into the dark shadows beside the building. He thought for a moment.

“Plagg, claws in.”

The small kwami that was just in his ring shot out. “Adrien? What are you doing?” 

“I just wanted to go in for something to eat. I promise I’ll be quick,” Adrien entreated, looking at his supernatural friend with pleading eyes.

Plagg sighed. “Fine. But once we get home, I want cheese,” he said before going to hide in Adrien’s overshirt.

Adrien took a deep breath and smiled--and in he went. 

The girl in the bakery looked up from her notebook, immediately closing the book in front of her and smiling politely. “Hi! How can I help you?” Her voice was as sweet as the atmosphere around them. The way her eyes sparkled made it impossible to look away. She was gorgeous.

Adrien smiled back at her, taking extra careful steps. She looked so delicate that the blond couldn’t help but put extra effort into being as gentle with every movement. “Hello,” he finally said. His tone was soft, and made his voice sound more silky.

Adrien’s eyes wandered around the small bakery, everything looking delectable. His mouth watered with every new item he noticed.Then he saw the chocolate croissants. His finger pressed against the glass directly in front of them. “Two please.”

The girl nodded. She grabbed a box and a bag and began packing Adrien’s order. Meanwhile, Adrien racked his brain trying to think of something to say. But before he could even come up with a coherent thought, the girl was already handing him the bag. “It’s on me. You look like you’ve had a rough day. I hope it gets better.”

Adrien stared wordlessly at her. “Oh, thank you. I just haven’t been here in years, so it’s a little strange being back.”

The girl hummed in response before speaking. “Why’d you stop coming?”

“My mom died.”

Adrien mentally slapped himself in the face. The slightly taken back expression on the girl made him feel even worse.

But then she returned to the kind smile she had before. “I’m sorry for your loss. Feel free to come in anytime, okay? I’ll have a warm croissant ready for you every time.”

He stared at her. “I...never got your name.”

“Marinette. Yours?” She looked back at him expectedly.

“Adrien. Adrien Agreste,” he replied a smile finally painting itself back on his face. 

“Adrien? Like from that one ad?” she asked, giggling.

Adrien laughed along with her. “Yeah, exactly like the one from the ad.”

Then a woman walked in from the other room, looking like an older version of Marinette. Probably her mother, Adrien thought.

“Well, it was nice to meet you Adrien. Hopefully I’ll see you again, goodnight.” Marinette waved, before disappearing behind the wall guarding what seemed to be the kitchen. Adrien waved back, not that she could see him do so. Without another word, Adrien left.

He walked back to his home while the sun set behind him. Plagg floated alongside his companion with a knowing smile. He knew who Adrien just met, and it killed Plag that he couldn’t tell anyone.

 It was maybe 7 P.M. and Adrien knew someone would probably check on him soon. The bag of boxed croissants hung around his wrist, tempting him to eat one right there. But he waited.

“Plagg, claws out.” 

The small black cat had a look of dread before he was sucked back into the silver ring. Once Adrien was back as Chat noir, he jumped to his room just in time to hear a knock on his bedroom door. “Adrien? Time for dinner.”

“I’ll be right out!” he yelled before transforming back and heaving out a held breath. The croissants were set on his desk and he readjusted himself. Plagg flew out, his intentioned set on the mini-fridge filled with camembert.

Well he’s all set, Adrien thought as he opened his door and started downstairs. His thoughts were filled with celebrations. Today was a good day.

(Quick Author’s Note: Hi! Okay, this took me hours to write but I think I;m okay with it. Sorry for no Marichat in this part, but I wanted to set up a relationship between Marinette and Adrien first so he has a reason to visit her in the first place. Hope you enjoyed!)

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Plain Sight: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, and angst

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

Feedback is gold, and it’s the only currency I take

"Don't forget that I cannot see myself -- that my role is limited to being the one who looks in the mirror." - Jacques Rigaut

Being the youngest one on the team not only made you feel like you needed to work extra hard to prove you were worthy of your place on the team, but it made you feel like an outcast because everyone was so close and tight-knit. The only person you really knew was Gideon, but he was more closer to Hotch than anyone else since they were closer in age than the rest. The person closest to your age is Spencer which is why you feel like you connect more with him than anyone else.

It’s his birthday today, and everyone is celebrating at his desk with cake and trick candles. They seemed to be having a good time, and you didn’t want to join them and ruin their fun. It didn’t feel like you were part of this family just yet since you were fairly new with abilities they’ve never seen before. However, even if you weren’t celebrating with them, you still got Spencer a present. It’s special since you knew he would hold it dear to his heart. You were pretty proud of yourself for finding the exact item you wanted even though you were at the point of ripping your own hair out.

Hotch and Gideon were off to the side to watch the rest of the team celebrate, and you stood by them with your arms crossed shyly.

“Make a wish!” Elle grinned.

“Come on man! Blow, baby blow!” Derek teased when Spencer kept blowing at his candles despite them not going out.

“I thought you are full of hot air, Reid,” Elle joked.

“Come on, Reid.”

“They're trick candles, Spence, okay? They gonna come back on every time,” JJ caved in after seeing him try so hard to blow them out.

Derek grabbed the ends of Spencer’s big blue birthday hat and shoved it further down on his head with a huge smile.

“Oh, mommy to rescue you!”

“Mommy?” Spencer scoffed, shaking off his friend.

“Is it amazing he knows what he knows and he's only 24?” Hotch asked his friend with a shocked smile.

“Imagine what he’ll know by fifty.”

“I’m twenty-two,” you spoke up, causing both heads to turn to you.

“Why aren’t you over there with them?” Gideon asked.

“I don’t feel like I’m part of the family just yet. I mean, I’m the youngest, so I feel like they think I’m a kid or something. I don’t know. I’m weird,” you chuckled nervously.

“Hey, lil’ mama,” Derek called out for you when he noticed you off to the side. “Come on.”

“Yeah, come over here,” Spencer smiled.

Once he chimed in, the rest of the team wanted you to join them. Blushing, you hesitantly walked over to the group, and Derek wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

“You’re part of this team now. You’ve proven yourself,” he grinned.

“Thanks, Derek,” you smiled right back.

“You blew wax on the cake, man,” Derek scoffed playfully, taking his arm away to help cut the cake.

Spencer got up to replace your spot next to Gideon since Hotch needed to take a call.

“Is this homemade or store bought?” you asked.

“I made it,” JJ smiled widely.

“Wow, this looks amazing and I bet it tastes amazing too,” you chuckled.

She put the first piece of cake on the plate, turned to Spencer, and called out to him.

“Hey Spence, first piece for the birthday boy,” she smiled.

Spencer looked from her to you, and you gave him a shy smile with a wave. He said something to Gideon before heading over, and he took the plate.

“Thank you.”

“Birthday boy,” you sang, taking a piece of cake that JJ handed you.

“When’s your birthday?”

“Not long after yours. Mine’s in February. I’ll be twenty-three. Sometimes I feel like I’m too young to be here.”

“I know that feeling,” he chuckled.

“Sorry, guys,” Hotch interrupted as he set the phone down with a sigh, “the party's over.”

The team knew what that meant, so they packed everything they could as fast as they could so they could discuss the case you knew was waiting for you in the briefing room. Each team member started for the stairs, but you grabbed Spencer’s arm to hold him back for a second.

“Sorry, I just, um… I know I haven’t known you for very long, but I got you something. A birthday present.”

“You did? You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but, um, you’ll have to wait until the end of the case to get it.”

“Why?”

“It gives you something to look forward to, yeah? Plus, we usually end cases at night, and I know you were born at night so why not make it memorable.”

“You remembered what time I was born?” he asked, shocked you took the time to do so.

“Reid, Y/N, let’s go,” Hotch announced from the conference room.

“Why wouldn’t I remember that?” you asked, brushing past him to rush to the conference room.

Spencer looked at you as you left, and he couldn’t help but give a hint of a smile at that piece of information. The files were already passed out, and you and Spencer took your seats so that everyone else could begin. There was no need to apologize since Hotch just jumped right into this one.

“We're going to San Diego.”

“Not for the surfing, huh?” Derek commented.

“They're calling him the Tommy killer. Six women raped and murdered in their homes in the last three weeks,” JJ shared.

“Six in three weeks? That's a short fuse,” you whistled.

“And getting shorter. The first two were eight days apart then the next four in two weeks.”

“Rapid escalation. Do you think he's regressing to a psychopathic frenzy?” Spencer asked.

“No, he's too controlled for that. See you on the plane,” Hotch answered, getting up to leave the room. However, before he could, Derek stopped him with a question.

“Why the Tommy killer?”

“You know the rock opera? This unsub glues the victims' eyes wide open.”

“He wants them to see him,” Spencer noted.

“And feel him,” you added.

“Brenda Samms was found yesterday by her children when they got home from school. She had been strangled with a thin ligature, possibly a wire. No weapon was left at the scene,” Hotch ran over the details of the case once everyone was on the plane.

Since it was one of the smaller jets, everyone was in close proximity of each other with you and Spencer seated next to each other, JJ, Gideon, and Elle in the middle, Hotch across from you and Spencer, and Derek all by his lonesome towards the front.

“The residue on the wrist and mouth indicate that duct tape was used and then removed. Also not found at the scene,” Spencer remarked. “Brought it with him, took it with him.”

“He also started leaving messages at the fourth scene,” Hotch explained, reading from one of the quotes left on the mirror at the latest victim’s house. “This was on the mirrors. ‘Fair lady, throw those costly robes aside. No longer may you glory in your pride. Take leave of all your carnal, vain delight’.”

“I’ve come to summon you away this night,” Spencer finished. “It's a ballad from the late 1600s. A dialogue betwixt death and a lady.”

“A 17th century ballad?” you thought.

“Essentially, a woman begging death to live.”

“What kind of person knows this ballad? Are we looking for a literature professor?” Elle wondered.

“Anyone with an internet connection, actually. You should see what comes up when you type the word ‘death’ into a search engine,” Spencer chuckled.

“Reid, no wonder you can't get a date,” Derek teased, but it wiped the smile off the young doctor’s face. 

Leaning over the small space, you got close enough to his ear so that only he could hear you.

“Don’t listen to him, Spencer. You’re a catch,” you patted him on the shoulder before sliding back into your normal position.

“Reid, you stay on the messages. See if there's a deeper meaning,” Hotch ordered.

“It definitely looks like he ransacked the crime scene pretty well. A lot of damage, but nothing seems to be taken,” you observed.

“The eyes are the thing, the signature. The behavior that isn't necessary for the murder, but necessary for the emotional release. That's what he's there for,” Gideon stated.

“There used to be a widely held belief that the eyes record a snapshot of the last thing a person sees before they die.”

“Yeah, that's right. People used to write poems about talking to death,” Derek commented.

“Ballads,” Spencer corrected him.

“Whatever.”

“You think they'll ever run out of new things to do with their victims?” Elle asked.

“Well, finding new ways to hurt each other is what we're good at,” Gideon sighed.

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[claymorecut]

BABYSITTING A 26 YEAR OLD WOMAN IS NOT THE MAIN CHARACTER’S JOB!

A GINTSU FANFICTION

CHAPTER 1

The life of a main character is never an easy one. So much they have to look at, so many they need to motivate and inspire, their goals, aspirations and responsibilities- it’s like their job can never end, even if the series does.

However, the same cannot be said for our rather unmotivated MC here.

It was a pleasant morning and once again in the Sakata household, our main character seems to have been doing the same as always.

With his legs propped up on the desk and a JUMP in his left hand, Sakata Gintoki gulped down the last of his favorite strawberry milk from the carton as his eyes scanned the contents of his precious JUMP magazine. With Kagura travelling around the universe with her baldy father and Shinpachi handling the dojo, he found himself alone at home as he enjoyed his day off. It may come as a surprise but apparently, for the last two weeks, our lazy and nonchalant MC has been constantly handling all the work alone at the Yorozuya without catching a single break. And as much as he appreciated the payment from his clients, he really missed slacking off like this. There was no work today and finally in a few hours, he can visit the pachinko parlor and drink sake to his heart’s content.

Taking a day off after working so hard surely feels like an achievement. Gintoki leisurely thought as he put the magazine down on the desk and stretched his arms. Yawning, he stood up from his seat and walked towards the little TV. Switching it on, he flipped the channel to Ketsuno Ana’s news show and flopped down on the sofa as he patiently waited for his favorite weather girl to appear on screen. However, this didn’t last long as he heard the phone ring.

Gintoki groaned mentally as he stood up from his seat and walked towards the area where he was seated before. “Hello? Yorozuya speaking.” And his voice was as dead as ever.

“GIN-SANNN!” It was Seita screeching from the other side and with that heard, Gintoki slammed the phone down. Not to be presumptuous or anything but he had a pretty decent idea why Seita was calling him and that too with that whiny voice of his. No way was he going to listen to that brat’s pleas to help him with his studies while he complains about how strict Tsukuyo’s teaching methods are. It is not the very first time that the kid has called him up like this for the same reason but today, he was not falling for it. He is supposed to enjoy his day and relax a little, not teach a kid stupid history lessons. And especially with THAT lady.

Rubbing his forehead, Gintoki once again decided to forget about these shenanigans and enjoy his day to the fullest. But once again, his peace was interrupted with the phone ringing.

And Gintoki was in no mood to listen to ANY REQUESTS today.

“Listen here kid, I haven't taken a break for the last two weeks from work and the Yorozuya is closed today so, I’m not gonna tea-“

“But Gin-san, at least list-“

“No buts! I’m TIRED and I'm NOT helping you with your homework today!”

“But Gin-san it’s not homewo-“

“Oh then it must a stupid school project of yours! How about you ask that demon tutor of yours for some help and leave me alone for today!?”

“But it IS about Tsukuyo-nee-“

“Now don’t start your compl-“

“But Gin-san-“

“I’m hanging up kid, enjoy your day and let me enjoy mine.”

“TSUKUYO-NEE HAS TURNED INTO A KID!”

“……”

“H-hello?”

“……”

“H-hello, Gin-san?”

“…..I’m not falling for that crap.”

“GIN-SAN!!!”

Looks like our MC has something to do today after all.

*****

Gintoki had no idea what was going on anymore.

One moment he was at his house, relaxing and planning how he was gonna spend the rest of his day perfectly and the next moment he finds himself taking his scooter out and kick-starting it to visit Yoshiwara.

The phone call with Seita did not last long after that grand confession as he simply just heard Seita plea to him one last time again before hanging up. If he was being honest with himself, the kid did sound a little worried. Sure, regarding the situation he does not have much information or context and Tsukuyo turning into a kid sounded a little too ridiculous to him but he still thought maybe checking the situation there a little won’t harm him. Plus, he can always ask for free sake in return.

Parking his scooter in front of the teahouse, Gintoki observed the area within his vision and not to his surprise, everything looked normal. The streets were a little busy with construction workers carrying a few heavy piles of wood to their designated area but apart from that, Yoshiwara looked normal. Hinowa was standing right inside the teahouse, discussing some paper works with a Hyakka member and well, apart from looking a little more busy than usual, she looked pretty normal as well. Nothing looked out of ordinary and even though he did not see Tsukuyo around, he pretty much guessed that she was alright too and was working somewhere like the workaholic she is.

I knew that brat was lying damn it! He grunted, thinking how he fell in the kid's trap again.

Noticing the silver-haired samurai standing in front of the teahouse, Hinowa dismissed the Hyakka member as she smiled warmly to welcome him. “Gin-san, thank goodness you came.”

Gintoki walked inside the teahouse with his usual dead-fish eyes as he took a seat in one of the benches placed there. “I guess it couldn’t be helped.” He shrugged, speaking in his nonchalant voice.

Taking a seat on a bench in front of him, Hinowa apologetically smiled at the tired samurai. “I am genuinely sorry for the inconvenience, Gin-san. I’ve been busy with the renovation work and that’s why I told Seita to call you. He did tell me after calling you how busy you were lately but we really need your help right now.”

Surely, Gintoki was a little pissed about Seita lying to him but he really did feel a guilty for not accepting his request. On a closer look, Hinowa did look pretty stressed and there were dark circles under her eyes. Plus, he couldn’t find Tsukuyo anywhere. Must be out there working like always. “But I need you treat me with some really great sake later.”

“Of course!” Hinowa cheerfully replies. “I’m glad you agreed to it. I hope Seita has told you everything. I’ll explain the situation to you properly.”

Situation? “Um..okay. But don’t you guys complain later if something goes wrong.”

“Oh what are you saying, Gin-san! I have complete faith in you!”

They were talking about the same situation, right? Well, of course she wants the best for her child. Guess I’ll have to do my best as a tutor too. “Okay…so I’ll be going to Seita-kun’s room-“

Hinowa blinked confusingly at this. “Eh?”

“.....How am I supposed to help him with his project then?”

“……Project?”

Now Gintoki was sweating with extreme pressure. Did Gintoki just had a huge misunderstanding? Was what Seita saying…true? No way was he gonna believe in that lie. “W-well, of course. That’s why he called me and made up this thing about Tsukuyo so I can-“

“Yes, Tsukuyo! But Seita didn't made up-“

NO WAY has she turned into a child! “P-please don’t joke like that Hinowa-san-” he stuttered, confusion and panic clear in his voice.

“But Gin-san-“

"Love drug was okay but THIS!? No way am I gonna believe THIS!"

"But Gin-san! Let me ex-"

“Hinowa. What’s goin’ on ‘ere?”

....

......

.........

The voice came from right behind him but something was certainly very wrong with it. Even though he did not want to believe it, the voice was oddly familiar. Young, but VERY familiar.

“Everything’s fine. Don’t worry about it, Tsukuyo.” Hinowa turned to the voice’s direction, who was apparently Tsukuyo.

Gintoki didn’t want to freak out and fortunately, he succeeded in that. But this uncanny feeling he had made his stomach churn with uneasiness and soon, he too found himself turning towards the direction of the child-like voice. And to his utter shock, there stood a kid. A kid so unfamiliar yet familiar he could just look at her with disbelief. Her blond hair was tied into a little bun and she was wearing a yellow yukata with white checkered patters and to his guess, she was almost 10 years old. Maybe his eyes were just ditching him due to exhaustion and he was just looking at a kid who very much resembled Tsukuyo and even has somewhat of a similar voice like her but the moment they landed on the oh-so familiar scar on her face, he knew he was facing reality.

The black kimono was gone. The heels were gone. That confident and mature face was now replaced with innocence and the curves and the legs his eyes often followed innocently(?) were also gone.

However, the person remained the same.

It was Tsukuyo. But now turned into a child…

“Okay.” Tsukuyo replied, her eyes skeptically looking at the silver-haired samurai. “May I ask who he is?”

……And she did not remember him!?

“Oh he is the one I told you about.” Hinowa replied with a sweet smile on her face. “The Savior of Yoshiwara, Sakata Gintoki.”

“Oh.” And she did not even…….look interested.

“Now now, don’t worry about me so much. You should get inside and take some rest. I have a few urgent things to discuss with him so I’ll see you in a few minutes.” Her voice was reassuring but at the same time he could hear her voice shake a little. What is going on!?

“Hmm. Okay.” Tsukuyo nodded obediently and went inside the main house before giving Gintoki another skeptical look. As for the man himself, he felt his eyes almost exit his sockets.

Hinowa sighed in relief and turned back to look at the baffled samurai to explain the situation. “Please Gin-san. Let me explain.”

Gintoki wanted to yell so, so badly right now. Explain!? EXPLAIN WHAT EXACTLY!? THIS!? The little Gintoki was yelling inside his head but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a strained whisper. “What the hell happened, Hinowa-san!?”

Breathing heavily, Hinowa finally answered the long awaited question. “Three days ago, Tsukuyo was handling the construction work of a few abandoned store houses here and while emptying the rooms, she accidently knocked over a small bottle of drug and inhaled it which was once used by the courtesans to replenish their youth.”

The information has now left him completely baffled. “A WHAT!?”

Understanding his confusion, Hinowa continued to explain the situation properly to him. “Almost thirty years ago, this drug was smuggled here by the Amantos and even though Hosen’s influence kept most drug dealers away, this specific drug was here in high demand among the courtesans for its effects. Just a small sniff from the little perfume-like bottle and it would show its work in a few seconds. However, the side effects of the drug soon started to show as some women felt their body weaken and suffered from mild memory loss which affected the business of many here. Hosen, after learning about these incidents and how it might seriously affect the business later, took a strict step and banned this drug completely from Yoshiwara and whatever was left here was all thrown out. However, maybe some of it was still left over that storehouse and that is why…Tsukuyo…”

This information caught Gintoki’s attention as he silently now observed Hinowa’s exhausted face. Her voice was almost a whisper but Gintoki could clearly hear it quiver a little and now he had a pretty decent idea that this was not a very simple situation.

“So, you mean to say Tsukuyo’s life is in danger?” Gintoki asked after processing all the information in his head to which Hinowa shook her head.

“I’m….not sure.” Sighing, she lowered her head down. “When the Hyakka members brought her here unconscious, we immediately called the doctor and had all the check-ups done. Maybe it’s because the drug was quite old that it did not affect Tsukuyo’s health much apart from a little fatigue but when she woke up, except for me, she….remembered no one in front of her. Not even Seita. And after explaining the effects of the drug and discussing everything with the doctor, he told me that her mind has gone back to her ten year old self along with her body and now, she remember everything only from that time. The doctor did say that the drug’s effects will wear off in a few days and her body will be back to normal but….he was not so sure whether her memories will come back or not.”

And with that said, Hinowa broke down.

When he first heard this news, Gintoki literally did not believe it because it just sounded so absurd. But now that Hinowa clearly explains the entire situation and especially, Tsukuyo’s condition, he suddenly feels a strange pang in his chest. “….You mean….she may lose her memory forever..?”

Hinowa silently nodded as she wipes her tears with her kimono sleeves.

“Then why didn’t you guys call me when it happened three days ago?” Gintoki asked, his voice low but slowly losing its casual tone.

“I did want to inform you early on.” Hinowa replied immediately. “But the work load here was too much and we were in no condition to compromise Tsukuyo’s mental state in such a short period of time. When I discussed the entire matter with the doctor, he told me that Tsukuyo regressing back to her child self and losing her memories simultaneously might also be a result of her subconscious trying to delete some past traumas. And so for now, he told us that we fabricate a good enough explanation for her to convince. For the last two days, I nagged her to rest properly and it was only today that she finally looked healthy and so I let her help me with some regular chores.”

Hinowa's voice sounded more and more tensed as she contined to explain the problem to him. Gintoki understood both of them were in no condition to discuss about this sensitive subject by just anxiously talking to each other. Moreover, he understood how frustrated Hinowa must have been with all of this. Especially because he too at one point lost his memories and saw how desperately Shinpachi and Kagura were trying to bring him back. And except all this, she was now singlehandedly handling the work going on here. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm his racing heart down. Like Hinowa, he too was scared; especially with the fact that Tsukuyo might never remember him. But it was not the time for him as to act all confused and most importantly, they called him for help.

She needed help.

And honestly, if he ever again tutors Seita, he would love to tutor him with her by his side.

“…..How did you guys explain everything about Yoshiwara?”

Hinowa wiped off her tears as she again took a deep breath to explain further. “We told her everything. About Hosen and his defeat. About you and how you became the savior of this city. And as for her memory loss, we told her that she had an accident which has temporarily affected her memories. At first, she was a little confused but fortunately, I was able to convince her and she calmed down. And like always, she did not question me…However, the doctor has warned us that we do not mistakenly trigger memories of any unpleasant incident which has happened in the recent past to her and” And she took another deep breath, her forever cheerful eyes showing a sense of fear in them. “…..that’s exactly what I’m worried about the most.”

Gintoki has never seen Hinowa this scared for Tsukuyo. Not even when she was abducted and the entire Yoshiwara was on the verge of burning down. However, now that he sensed the fear in her eyes did he come to understand why she was so anxious. Past trauma. Any recent unpleasant incident. “You don’t mean…”

"She was asking about Jiraiya.”

------x-----

A/N: And that’s all for the first chapter. I’m writing a fic after so long and this idea has been in my mind for almost a year now. I’m genuinely sorry for the lack of GinTsu in this chapter though but I promise I’ll make it up to you in the next one. Hope you guys enjoyed it and don't worry I’ll update soon enough! <3. Plus, please let me know if I should post it on ffnet and ao3?

[trulivin]

Golden Eyes

A/N: SURPRISE! I finished it last night. Thank you so much for this request! I really enjoyed writing this piece. I did make the reader kinda Shu I would say because she’s called serpent at the Menagerie but feel free to change it to suit your appearance! Also, I hope I kept to the character. I felt like Kaz wouldn’t act like this really in his mind, and I don’t know somehow I ended up flopping back and forth between their POVs. BUT hopefully it worked out. 

This also has potential for a part 2 so let me know if you would like that. Anyways, send feedback and keep requesting! I could honestly write about Kaz all day LMFAO! Enjoy! (Word Count: It’s really long whoops)

Kaz Brekker X Reader, Six of Crows

Warnings: Some abuse, cursing.

*Oh look I made another aesthetic lol*

Kaz Brekker didn’t know why he did it. Three years after getting Inej out of the Menagerie, he found himself having the same conversation with Tante Haleen. “You are not taking another one of my girls, Brekker,” the lady snarled. “I have the money,” he shrugged, his face impassive. “I don’t care. You took one of my clients’ favorites three years ago,” Tante hissed at him. “You haven’t even let me tell you what I’m going to offer,” Kaz said. The peacock let out an odd noise, rolling her eyes at the teenage boy. Why does he even want this girl? She thought to herself. 

Truth be told, Kaz really didn’t know why he wanted this girl either. He just happened to be walking by the Menagerie a few nights ago and heard a lot of screaming. Tante Haleen had made a public display over beating this poor girl into tears in front of what seemed like everyone in Ketterdam. Usually, the woman would give her punishments in the confines of her office, but this time it was different. The girl’s screams still echoed in his mind.

It was a particularly still and soundless night as Kaz walked back from a successful deal he had just made. He was personally enjoying the quiet walk and the stars with the only sound of his cane tapping on the ground every step he took. However, his peace was soon disturbed when a high pitched scream rang out. Kaz immediately stopped, looking around for the source of the noise and realized he was very close to the Menagerie. 

“You ran another one of my clients off, girl!” Tante Haleen’s voice rang out. Kaz heard a faint sound of a belt snap and a girl crying. “I-I didn’t mean to,” a voice cried. “Didn’t mean to? Pff! You’ve always been a defiant whore. Trying to run me out of my own position! Girls like you need to be taught a lesson,” she sneered. “I swear, I’m not!” the young girl pleaded.

There was a faint crowd gathered around the main entrance to the building. Kaz approached silently, sticking to the shadows. There, in the middle of the ground was a partially-clothed girl, no younger than him, cowering under the peacock who was clutched a strap of leather in her hands. 

“Who would want your job anyway?” the girl half muttered to herself resulting in Tante yanking the girl up but her hair. If that young girl wasn’t in the middle of being beat up, Kaz would have been impressed with the girl’s snark. 

Kaz noticed the girl’s tear-stained face full of fear. A shiver ran up his spine as he watched the old woman continue to scold her, and for a fleeting moment, the girl cast a panicked look around the crowd and met his eyes. Beautiful golden eyes met his and he stood there stoically, studying her face until Tante brought down another hit. The girl screamed again, tearing her gaze away, and Kaz forced himself to walk away.

Her eyes burned into his memory as he finally made it to the Slat. Kaz talked with Per Haskell for a few minutes before heading to his room. He sensed Inej following him and when they reached the top, she asked, “So it went well?” Kaz nodded as he shuffled papers around his desk. Inej said something else, but he barely acknowledged it. He was too busy trying to figure out how to help the girl. 

Inej watched as Kaz was rummaging through papers and eyed him in confusion as she noticed he was pulling money together for some reason. She could tell he was distracted by something, and quite frankly had never seen him act like this. 

“Why all the money?” Inej asked, snapping her fingers in front of his face. Kaz jumped ever so slightly, meeting her dark eyes. Inej caught his quick scare and was even more baffled that Kaz Brekker was so skittish. He was almost never like this.

The girl’s golden eyes flashed through his mind for a moment before he cleared his throat. “I need to buy something,” Kaz muttered, turning back to the papers. “What do you need to buy?” she asked skeptically. “It’s none of your business. If you have a problem with it then get out,” he snapped. Inej was caught off guard with his moodswing, but shot him an annoyed glance and slipped out of the room. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with Kaz’s attitude anymore. 

Kaz jumped again when he heard his door slam. He had no clue why he was acting like this, it wasn’t him. Someone else’s pain was their problem, not his, but the girl’s watery eyes still burned in his mind like the sun on an extremely hot day.  

“Thirty-thousand kruge,” he said after Tante hadn’t responded. “Did the old man give you your allowance early?” the woman sneered at him. 

“No.”

She looked a bit taken back at his bored demeanor, and then narrowed her eyes at the boy. She despised him for taking away the Suli girl three years ago and she was wary in letting another one go to Kaz Brekker or Per Haskell. Tante never really knew who was actually in charge.  

“Well, are you going to take it?” he asked, impatiently. 

She mulled over it for a moment and sighed angrily. She could never pass up money. All of my girls are replaceable I suppose. “Yes,” she said irritated. “So she’ll be working for that old man of yours?” she asked as she signed the contract. Kaz scribbled his signature down and snatched the paper up before she could really read everything on it. 

“Actually no,” he said with a wry smile. “She belongs to me. And technically, I’ve paid off her contract.” 

The woman’s eyes almost popped out of her head. “I-You--little rat!” She snarled at him. “You can’t have her!” 

“Yes I can. Now go get her. I have other things to do today,” Kaz said coolly. He was ready to get out of this place. It reeked of filthy men and other spices that made his head spin a bit. 

Tante Haleen glared at the boy but said nothing before slipping out of her office. She returned a moment later with the golden-eyed girl behind her. “Well, it’s your lucky day, serpent,” the peacock snapped at her, “You get to go with Mr. Brekker here.” The girl’s eyes snapped to Kaz’s just like the other night and he could’ve sworn his heart jumped as the blazing color pierced his. He studied her face for a moment, noticing the dark bruise under her left eye and her swollen cheek. Under the damage, he also saw a very beautiful girl who looked as though she had been put through years of abuse under the hands of Tante Haleen. 

Unfortunately, he also noticed how, behind her bright eyes, there was absolute terror coursing through her. “It’s been a pleasure,” he smirked a bit turning back to Tante Haleen. “Are you ready?” Kaz turned back to the girl. She nodded, wide-eyed and somewhat confused. Kaz slid past them and out the office door. 

Y/N’s head spun as she followed the teenage boy out of the Menagerie. What did he want? Why did he buy my contract? What the hell is going on? How is he walking so fast with a freaking cane? All sorts of questions flew through her mind and her swollen face was throbbing giving her a slight headache.

As they made it to the doors, Tante Haleen’s voice called after her, “You better watch your back girl! I’ll get my serpent back and you’ll die in chains here!” Y/N’s head whipped around in fear, looking at the evil woman. “That won’t happen. You’re safe now,” the boy’s raspy voice said from behind her. Y/N turned back to him and practically ran out the door he had opened for her. 

Once they were on the streets and far from the Menagerie, the boy finally slowed his pace. Y/N swallowed nervously and asked, “So who are you exactly?” “Kaz Brekker,” he replied without so much as casting a glance in her direction. He kept on winding through the crowd making sure Y/N was still with him every so often. 

Surprisingly enough, Y/N had heard of a Kaz Brekker. The notorious ‘bastard of the Barrel’ or Dirtyhands. She just never thought she would ever meet him. Clients would always complain about being crossed by Brekker. They’d say, “I’ll rip those gloves off his hands and feed him his own fingers if I ever get a hold of that damn boy!” It was strange seeing the gloves fit over his hands. Y/N couldn’t seem to stop staring at them, wondering why on earth he wore them in the first place. 

“And you?” he added a few moments later, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Oh, um I’m Y/N,” she said. 

Kaz inwardly smiled to himself for the first time in a long time. He thought it was a very pretty name to match her pretty eyes. What the hell is wrong with you? 

He managed to maintain his expressionless face and turned to look at the girl, “Well Y/N you are officially free under one condition.” Her eyes narrowed at him as she began to grow more comfortable in his presence. 

“What?” Y/N asked. 

“You’ll become a member of the Dregs.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You lose the protection from us, and you very much could end back up there,” Kaz said. He didn’t necessarily want to say he owned the girl. She was free to do whatever she pleased, but if she were to go off on her own she would most likely be back where she started. Not to mention, Kaz would be out thirty-thousand kruge. The girl had a fire behind her eyes and he thought she could potentially be quite useful. He just wasn’t sure what her limits were yet, but he also didn’t want to lose an investment. She’s not just an investment, a voice in his head scolded. Shut up. You know I’m right. Ugh. 

Y/N thought for a moment. She knew about the Dregs and all the other gangs in Ketterdam, but she again never thought she would ever be tangled up in them. However, anything was better than the Menagerie, and she was decent in a fight so she could handle whatever the Dregs threw her way. “Anywhere is better than there,” she eventually agreed. Kaz nodded in approval as they continued on. 

Finally, the pair arrived back at the Slat. “Just let me do the talking,” Kaz said to her before opening the door. The main floor was crowded with a variety of  looking people playing cards and gambling. Heads turned as the door was open and everyone caught sight of Kaz with a girl in silks trailing behind him. 

One guy smirked at Kaz making Y/N cringe. “Wow boss I’m surprised they let you take this one out of the building!” the guy called. Kaz shot him a hard glare and snapped, “She’s not here for work. A new investment so shut up. She’s one of us now.” 

Investment? That didn’t sound any better, Y/N scoffed silently. Thankfully, though, no one in the room looked familiar. None of these people had been clients. 

The guy, Y/N noticed, seemed to cower under Kaz’s gaze. He seems to have very high authority in here, she noted. Just as quickly as they entered, she was following him up rickety steps. Kaz led her into an office on the second floor, and Y/N was faced by an old man. 

“Y/N this is Per Haskell. Per Haskell, Y/N,” Kaz introduced and the old man grinned. “My new member?” he smiled. “Mine,” Kaz interjected, “Sir.” “Ah yes yes, you used your own money,” Per Haskell dismissed him, slightly annoyed. “It is still my gang you know,” he said. “Of course, sir,” Kaz replied. 

Y/N stood quietly watching the two exchange words as if she weren’t standing right there. She could see right through Kaz and his act towards the old man. He may have sounded respectful towards Per Haskell, but Y/N had the sneaking suspicion that he could care less about the man’s opinions. 

“So, sweetie,” Per Haskell interrupted her thoughts. Y/N jumped in the slightest at the name. You’re not at the Menagerie anymore, and he was never one of your clients, she told herself. Kaz studied her and saw her back stiffen as soon as Per Haskell had opened his mouth. She was nervous. “What can you do? Weapons wise of course. And how do you hold up in a fight?” the man asked. Y/N seemed to be taken off guard a bit, but regained her composure, feeling more confident in herself again. 

“Well, um, before I was taken, my father taught me how to defend myself. And I’m pretty good at target practice,” Y/N mumbled, heat rising to her cheeks realizing this whole gang thing wouldn’t be like target practice. The man obviously knew it too and chuckled a bit before turning to Kaz. “You sure picked a good one this time, boy,” he said sarcastically. Y/N’s cheeks flushed even more red. And they flushed even darker as Kaz’s gaze rested on her for a moment. Y/N couldn’t help but be upset at herself for sounding so stupid in front of Kaz Brekker. Why do you care what he thinks of you? She questioned, averting her eyes away from him. 

“I think she’ll work out just fine, sir,” Kaz responded in an even tone. Y/N couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. His face remained unreadable with every word he said. “We’ll see,” Per Haskell said, the air in his tone signaling this conversation was over. Kaz simply nodded and turned to walk out of the office. He locked eyes with Y/N before pushing open the door. She followed quietly behind him still unsure of what really was happening here. 

They made their way up more steps when a voice stopped them in their tracks. “Y/N?” a familiar voice rang out behind her. Y/N turned around to see an oh-so-familiar Suli girl. “Inej?” Y/N half gasped. A grin broke out on the girl’s face as she bounded up the steps, pulling Y/N in a hug. Kaz raised a brow. 

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing Y/N here, Kaz,” she glared at the boy. Y/N was shocked she had the nerve to do that, but Kaz remained oddly quiet. 

The thought that Inej had known her never crossed his mind. 

“Well you know now,” Kaz said coolly. Y/N could see slight impatience in his look now. “Obviously,” Inej rolled her eyes and added, “Leave us be. I’ll show her around and she can stay with me.” Kaz narrowed his eyes at her, but didn’t say anything as he stepped aside letting the two go. 

In reality, something told him he didn’t want Y/N out of his sight. There was a lot of testosterone in the building and Y/N’s pretty features would surely stand out. But her reaction to Per Haskell’s words told Kaz she was more worried than she was letting on. He’d seen that look in Inej plenty of times to know it had been just as rough for Y/N as well. Tante Haleen had told him Y/N had been with her for five years, and according to the peacock, she was also a handful. He couldn’t imagine what Y/N had been put through because of her defiance, but he knew he didn’t want anyone getting any ideas. 

Up on the floor above, Inej had gotten Y/N settled in her room. “I never realized Kaz bought your contract too,” Y/N said quietly. Inej laughed and rolled her eyes a bit, “He didn’t buy it. Per Haskell did. Kaz just put the idea in his head so he could get the money. I still have to pay mine off. That’s why I work for him.” 

“Oh,” Y/N said, remembering what Kaz had said to Tante Haleen. He had put his own money up for her. Why?

As if Inej sensed her question, she said, “I don’t know why or how he got the money. But obviously you must’ve caught his attention. I’m telling you like I always have, it’s those golden eyes of yours.” Y/N let out a light laugh, but brushed her comment off. “It’s good he did though. We need more fighters like you. Don’t get all shy on them, I know how you get,” she added. Y/N rolled her eyes a bit, “I don’t like strangers.” 

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you still can’t kick ass. I’ve seen you do it before.”

“And you’ve seen my ass get kicked right after,” Y/N said sourly. She had tried more than once to get out of being with some of the clients, earning her plenty of bruises. But, it was always worth it when Y/N had managed to leave some bruises behind as well. “Listen,” Inej said seriously, “You’re safe now. Kaz, in his own twisty way, will protect you. He may seem like a heartless, emotionless, dark person, but deep down he cares. Of course in his own weird way.” The two girls shared a laugh and Y/N couldn’t help but think she was right. There was nothing to be afraid of anymore. 

A month seemed to pass in a blur and somehow Y/N had found herself restless. She slowly earned respect amongst the Dregs, but now everyone seemed to coddle her. Even Kaz would hardly ever let her out of his sight. He hardly spoke to her and she found herself pouring her heart out to him. She told him about her family and what happened when she was taken, along with everything that happened to her in the Menagerie. All Kaz did was listen and nod. 

Y/N was annoyed she could never figure him out, and told herself she was going to stop telling him her entire life story, but somehow wound up back in his attic. Some days they would sit in silence as she sat by the window, and some days they would have little conversations. He answered most of her questions she had for him, but he always gave a round-about answer when she brought up the gloves. Sometimes he would just ignore her so Y/N would just drop it. 

The only thing Kaz really wouldn’t let her do was go on jobs. She was antsy and felt more at ease than she had in a long time so she could easily go shake someone up for some money.  “Can I go with Jesper?” Y/N would ask. “No he, Inej, and Specht can handle it,” Kaz would reply. He was never rude to her when she asked. He would just find some excuse for her not to go.

In reality, Kaz didn’t want her to go because he could still see the slight changes in her body whenever someone, particularly a man, would brush by her too close. One time Jesper had slung his arm around her in a friendly manner, and Kaz saw all the color drain from her face. Her golden eyes even seemed to lose their brightness. He didn’t want to put her through what some of the jobs required and risk her getting hurt, although he wouldn’t admit it. So, he didn’t make her do anything, and left her extremely bored and annoyed. 

And unfortunately, some of the Dregs seemed to notice this as well. 

Instead of questioning Kaz, they all assumed it was because she couldn’t do anything. Some would say, “It’s alright gold-eyes, I’ll be back. Don’t worry I don’t need protection!” or “I think someone needs to go with her to make sure she doesn’t fall over and hurt herself.” 

Finally, one day, Y/N was sick of the teasing. Specht, Rotty, and Jesper were teasing her about how her eyes made her look soft because they were such a pretty color. She rolled the golden orbs. “You know, you all assume I’m no good, but none of you actually have had the decency to let me hold a pistol or a knife,” she snapped. Jesper looked a little surprised by her outburst, but Specht and Rotty grinned mischievously. “Ok then, pretty-eyes. Why don’t we do a little target practice then,” Rotty snickered. Per Haskell managed to spread the word around of their first introduction and it seemed to stick. Y/N glared at him but nodded. The boys sprung up and in about ten minutes the main floor was set up with a variety of targets. 

A crowd seemed to gather and Inej was by her side instantly. She had also yelled at plenty of them saying, “Y/N is perfectly capable of taking care of herself.” But Y/N didn’t want her help. And she also knew Inej’s words wouldn’t make them shut up.

“So this is how you hold a knife,” Specht said slowly as if he was talking to a toddler. “Har har,” she glared. Y/N yanked the set of knives he had from his hands and went to stand in front of the target. She heard snickers across the room and some people placing bets.

Y/N huffed before clearing her head. Feel the blade in your hand. It’s supposed to be a part of you so when you throw it, it will go in the direction you want it to. Her father’s voice rang out in her head. She closed her eyes for a moment, allowing silence to fill her ears. 

Kaz had come down to see what was going on and saw the room had turned into a shooting range. He was about to break up the semi-circle, but stopped once he saw Y/N in the center of it. Her eyes were closed and he watched along with everyone else. Kaz was curious to see what she really could do. 

In an instant, Kaz saw her eyes open, and watched as the three knives she held fly through the air and land in the dead center of three different targets. Her eyes immediately found his, and the liquid-gold was burning bright. He sucked in a breath as her eyes burned in his. Kaz couldn’t help himself. Her eyes were his favorite. 

Y/N felt his presence as soon as she rid herself of the knives. Her eyes found his watching her with a glint of approval. His mouth even quirked up in the slightest. A grin broke across her face at the thought that Kaz would be proud of her. Somehow they had gotten close over the past month and he had a special place in her heart causing her to always seek his approval. And though he would never admit it, but Kaz always found himself wanting the golden-eyed girl around him and only him. 

Everyone around the room seemed shocked at what had happened. Big Bolliger, however, interrupted the silence, “That was luck!” Eventually, others chimed in in agreement. Y/N saw that little quirk of Kaz’s mouth slip back into his hard look. “Then go stand in front of the target and have her throw again,” Kaz spoke from behind everyone. They whirled around, immediately falling quiet. “Well?” Kaz gestured for Big Bolliger to step up in front of the target. He gulped, but no one questioned Kaz. Rotty gathered the knives and handed them back to Y/N silently. “If she hits him then we know it’s luck. If she doesn't, well then I think you all will have gotten your answer if she can do anything or not,” Kaz said. 

No one said a word. Y/N should have been nervous, but she wasn’t. This was the first time she had been truly happy in the month she had spent here. She knew she could do it, and this would shut everyone up for good. Y/N took a deep breath and closed her eyes again, honing in on her father’s words. 

Kaz watched her eyes flicker open again and just like last time she placed the knives exactly where she wanted them: above Big Bolliger’s head, to the left of his ear, and to the right. 

Y/N smirked, satisfied with herself, but also got a bit carried away. Jesper was standing near her so she grabbed one of his pistols and shot right in between Big Bolliger’s legs before handing Jesper back his prized possession. Everyone seemed to be standing there gaping. Inej was smirking, and Kaz had a twinkle in his eye. She was even more proud of herself. 

“And she can shoot too,” he said. The crowd was still shocked as everyone stared at her. “Alright clean it up,” Kaz snapped, waving his arm. The Dregs jumped into action setting everything right. “It’s not like you haven’t seen anyone shoot before,” he muttered to himself, before signaling Y/N to follow. 

Once they were upstairs, Kaz admitted, “I will say I’m impressed. But like you said when we first met. Target practice.” Y/N glared at him, her sour mood returning. “I could’ve taken his eye out you know,” she said bitterly. Kaz didn’t seem to care about her tone with him. 

“I don’t doubt that either,” he replied. “But it is different out there when you’re in the moment--”

“How can you of all people think I don’t know that?” Y/N snarled, cutting him off and finally letting her anger bubble over. “I told you everything!” she hissed. 

“I told you how those men enjoyed a twelve-year-old girl! How I fought so many times and had knives pulled on me and took constant beatings from that wretched woman! How I was put in chains after I tried running away! I know what everyone thinks of me!” she shouted. 

“I know they all think I’m this weak, doe-eyed school girl who can’t throw a punch! They whisper behind my back, throw snide comments around, make bets! And I take it! I take it like every hit I took in that damn whore house.” 

Kaz heard her voice crack with her last sentence. He had underestimated her abilities and never really thought how tough she really was. He was always too busy silently fuming over how mistreated she had been growing up. 

“I know what they are thinking,” Y/N repeated herself. “And I don’t want you to think the same thing,” she mumbled quietly. Y/N’s eyes went wide as she realized what she just said out loud. “I--I just--,” she started but Kaz raised a hand. She shut her mouth and let him speak. “Do you know why I picked you?” he asked. She shot him a confused look. “I saw you that night Tante Haleen had thrown you on the ground in front of everyone.”

Y/N’s breath hitched. She remembered seeing those dark eyes in the shadows of the crowd. A shiver ran up her spine thinking about that night. 

“I will say I have underestimated your abilities, but I don’t think like those other idiots downstairs,” Kaz sighed, letting his mask slip a bit. “I,” he paused for a moment. The two voices in his head were back: Why are you acting like this? Because she’s a pretty girl. Just another girl. She’s more than pretty if you think about it. Doesn’t matter. You’ve gotten to know her and you know she’s like you in a way. No. Admit it. Shut up.

Swallowing a bit of his pride, Kaz spoke softly, “I don’t want to see you get hurt like that again. You don’t deserve it.” It was true. Even if she didn’t talk much for the first few weeks she was with him, he found she was quite pleasant to be around. Y/N was kind to whoever she met no matter what they said about her, and she carried herself with a sort of confidence she probably didn’t know she had. And those damn eyes of hers too. 

Y/N’s face softened at his words. “Oh,” was all she could manage to slip out. Quickly, though to avoid extreme awkwardness, Y/N gave him a mischievous grin. “So you do care?” she commented. Kaz let out a breath and rolled his eyes, thankful she didn’t want to endure the moment after him opening up to her. “The Kaz Brekker has a heart,” she chuckled as he glanced down back at his work. 

“Yes, but most of it was buried with my brother,” he said shortly. The room was silent and Kaz looked at Y/N. Her grin was gone and she gave him a sympathetic look. He never usually wanted sympathy for Jordie, but somehow Y/N’s kind features brought him a sense of comfort. “I’ll tell you some other time,” Kaz said simply. 

She approached his desk slowly until she was right in front of him. Taking a deep breath, Y/N glanced down to his gloved hand resting on the top. She hesitated and took it in her hand. Kaz sucked in a sharp breath before letting it out. Her hand was warm and felt smooth even through his gloves. A part of him wanted to feel it without the leather barrier. He noticed the scars that danced across her knuckles and all the way up her arm. 

Kaz’s gaze trailed across her skin and up to the bright eyes that were watching his every move. He suddenly felt very conscious of his hair and tie. “I’ll be okay,” Y/N said softly. He took her appearance in once more and nodded. “Go see if Jesper will let you tag along on his job,” Kaz added. Y/N gave him a small smile before releasing his hand. A part of him ached for her touch again, and his hand felt oddly cold after she let go. 

Y/N silently made her way to the door. “I had a sister,” she said, turning to look at him again before disappearing back downstairs, her golden eyes burning through Kaz’s heart.

___________________________________________________________

Yay! To the nonny who requested, I hope this is what you were looking for! I have yet to make one with Kaz and the reader kissing because he’s very difficult to write for and I hate straying away from how the character actually is. But also I can do a part two with Jesper’s job and the aftermath plus her interaction with Kaz afterwards. Just let me know!

[kashi-prompts]

Flowers For A Shinobi

Chapter 11: Soup

Word Count: 4,670

Pairing: Kakashi x OFC

Previous Chapter ❀  Archive of Our Own Link  ❀  

A/N: This is fuffy, right? lol

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"I understand," Kakashi nodded, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, picking at the fabric at the inside of his trousers. He remained stagnant with his usual aloof disposition, appearing as though he were disinterested in the conversation between himself and the Hokage. Within him, something stirred uneasily. 

"So you'll do it then?" Tsunade questioned pointedly. 

"Yes, I'll do it." 

"Good," Tsunade looked back down at her paperwork, content with the elite-jonin's tepid response. Her fingers hastily returned to endorsing the stack of documents collecting dust on her desk, her blond pigtail sweeping across her shoulder as she leaned over.

"She's being discharged from the hospital today. I want you to start training her as soon as possible. She's rested enough." 

"And if she doesn't want to be a shinobi?" 

"Convince her with that charm of yours, Hatake," Tsunade pointed her pen at him, "she has so much potential. It would be a shame to waste it on a flower shop." 

Kakashi scratched the back of his head stiffly, pressing the locks of his hair back down to the nape of his neck. Under his mask, his lips pursed, thinking of a counter-argument to present. 

"What are you waiting for?" She questioned, cocking an eyebrow as she looked back up at him. "Go talk to her." 

Giving up with a respective bow, Kakashi turned on his heel and headed for the door.

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Ayame combed her fingers through her hair, crudely attempting to make it presentable as she stared out her hospital window. The mid-morning sun drifted upwards in the sky, the clouds shielding the village selfishly from its warmth.  

Instinctively, her fingers began weaving the strands of her hair into a braid. The act quickly reminded her of when she was younger, where her mother would sit her down and tenderly begin folding the strands to create a tight plait of red locks. 

"It's too tight," Ayame would whine, tugging at the braid for her mother to remedy it. 

"Pain is beauty," her mother would tell her indifferently, "You need to keep it out of your face while you work! It'll loosen as the day goes on." 

It never did loosen, despite her mother's words. Tying off her braid now, she missed having someone else care for her as her mother had. The loneliness of this new village lessened as the years went on, but the underlying longing for her original home crept up on her ever so often. Not so much for the village as it was now, but the way she remembered it. Or maybe it was the people. Or perhaps it wasn't even that - but just the overall sense of duty she had there. At least she was doing something with herself.

Even so, she had left Rōtasuagekure for a reason, and quite sincerely, she reflected, she could never see herself leaving Konoha. Especially now. 

"Hana-chan?" a petite nurse asked, popping her head into the small, sterile room. 

"Yes?" 

"I have your discharge paperwork," the nurse offered. She took a few steps in, observing Ayame already dressed in the same clothes she had come in with. 

"Do I just need to sign?" 

"Yes, here and here," the nurse indicated, "the doctor said you have recovered well. She really didn't have much to say otherwise." 

"I'm feeling much better. Thank you for all your support," Ayame smiled, handing the nurse the pen and clipboard back. 

Walking out of the hospital after two weeks left Ayame feeling strange. Almost as though her life had changed, never to return to the way it was before her admission. Her experience on the journey, or mission, rather, resonated in her mind. Looking back, she may not have felt it then, but it was certainly thrilling to be a part of something like that. She thought of the shinobi in the hospital, pleased that she had done something to help them. She examined her feelings towards helping them, remembering how she used to be one of Rōtasuagekure herbalist medics. 

The slight chill in the air from two weeks ago had been replaced with a heavy, thick mist that hardly ever reveals itself except for after a cool shower on a hot day. Instantly, the moisture stuck to her skin as she began walking in the direction of her apartment. She breathed deeply, letting the dewy scent on each blade of grass mingle in her nose pleasingly. It was good to be out finally and feeling better. 

"Oi, Ayame-chan," she heard. 

Her heel skidded against the pavement at the sound of the familiar dull voice. As she turned around, her jade-green eyes settling on a tired-looking masked man. The memory of an unconscious body in the basement of her childhood home suddenly left her reeling. She blinked, watching him walk towards her with his hands that always seemed to be situated deep in the pockets of his uniform. 

"Kakashi-san," she smiled, "how are you?" 

"I am well," he stopped in front of her, looking down at her from his usual height. His cheekbones lifted in a small smile. A beat passed as her eyes traveled over the worn look in his eye. 

"How are you feeling?" Ayame asked, folding her hands together at her waist. 

"I'm doing alright," Kakashi admitted, "but more importantly, how are you feeling? Were you just discharged from the hospital? 

"I was," Ayame gestured in the direction of the hospital, "I'm feeling better. Thank you. I heard the shinobi are doing better? And the flowers were delivered to Lady Hokage on time." 

Kakashi nodded, smiling to himself, "yes. They're all doing much better. Thanks to you." 

"I couldn't have done any of that without you," Ayame admitted, shaking her head. "I'm so grateful to have been a part of it." 

"You handled your own," Kakashi emphasized assuredly. 

Looking over, Kakashi smiled stiffly at her, clearly seeming unsure of himself. Seeing this, Ayame looked away, a few spring leaves floating through the breeze around her. 

"I'm sorry I didn't come to see you while you were recovering. I was recuperating myself."

The memory of a pink-haired shinobi Ayame had seen before with Ino crossed her mind at his words. 

"Kakashi-sensei carried you back to the village," a blur of pink hair had told Ayame. Her bright green eyes had smiled down at her as she drew Ayame's blood one morning. "You're lucky to be alive. He's a really strong shinobi. He's on the mend as well, but he'll probably be better before you are." 

"I heard," she frowned, turning to look back at him. "I'm glad you're doing better, though. But I honestly must apologize for having to have you carry me all the way back here. You should have just left me there. I did my duty." 

A light laugh bubbled up in her chest at her own snide comment. His single eye glanced back down at her with a soft gaze and shook his head, "I would have never left you there. You're worth more than that."

The breeze picked up again. Sakura blossoms dancing in the wind around the two of them. The pink tones of their petals were imitative of the fleeting rouge on her freckled cheeks. Noticing, Kakashi shuffled his sandaled foot and looked down the road. 

"Were you heading somewhere?" Kakashi asked suddenly, his head tilted. 

"I was just heading home," Ayame told him, composing herself. 

"Mind if I join?" Kakashi asked, looking down at her with his one eye. A smile crept over her lips that she tried desperately to tame. 

"Sure." 

Turning on her heel, the two began heading away from Konoha's hospital, passed the mid-afternoon rush of citizens scurrying to grab something to eat before returning to work for the rest of their day. Ayame watched them walk by; the lingering eyes of a few young girls fell on the tall shinobi next to her. She wondered fleetingly if he had a girlfriend or some romantic interest on the side already. Surely, he would have mentioned it. Or an indicator would have arisen at some point. 

But then again, Ayame was still unsure. She hadn't even thought of it until this moment. She glanced over at him, his profile straight ahead as they walked together. 

She really didn't know much about him at all, she mused. It seemed as though he was still a stranger to her, despite this strange gravity pulling them towards each other. The brief time they had spent together felt more influential than just a day or two of ongoing conversations while they traveled. 

"What do you think about living here?" the silver-haired jonin asked abruptly, glancing over at Ayame as she waved kindly to a little girl with a new bouquet from Yamanaka's. 

"I love it here," Ayame shared, her voice a hum as she traced a finger along the wooden siding of the Dango shop. "Although I miss home sometimes."

"I can imagine. This wasn't your first home."

"But it is my home," Ayame vowed quietly. The Dango shop owner gave them a wide, knowing grin, offering a few sample pieces of Dango on a skewer. Ayame smiled thankfully, taking the skewer and popping the round treat in her mouth happily. 

"Would you like one?" She offered, extending the skewer to him. 

"I'm not much of a sweets man," the jonin admitted, lifting a hand to decline. "Plus, the medication they have me on for the amatoxins for my liver makes me pretty queasy lately. I haven't been able to eat much anyway." 

Ayame frowned, "I'm sorry to hear that." 

"I'll live," he shrugged, watching her toss the empty skewer in a passing garbage bin. 

"I would like to talk to you about something,"  Kakashi said a few beats later. Next to him, Ayame felt a cold shock to her chest. She glanced over at him, his expression seemingly difficult to read with a mask and headband that covered the majority of his face. Despite such, she noticed his dark eye glance over at her to assess her reaction.  

"Oh?" Ayame stammered through a chuckle. 

"Yes," he nodded, his tone serious, "what do you think it means to be a shinobi?"

Ayame narrowed her eyebrows, looking over at him quizically. She wondered if this was some joke he was playing, asking her this question to see if she understood the importance of his role. But when she looked over at him, his profile remained straight ahead and composed. She, too, had been thinking of this while lying in the hospital bed.  

"Well," Ayame began, folding her arms against the breeze as they walked, "I suppose a shinobi's only resolve is to protect the village and those who live within it." 

"That's true," he nodded, pausing, "I agree. What do you think about that?"

"About shinobi protecting the village? I think it's important and valuable. Economically, the infrastructure of the village depends on the careers of shinobi to make money. But it is clearly more than that. A shinobi's occupation is valuable to the next generation to have leaders look up to and be protected by. Working for the Yamanaka clan has undoubtedly shed light on all this for me. But I would say, this past month especially strung the understandings together fluently."

She was rambling. When she let out a breath, she expected him to laugh at her wordy response. But when she looked over, he only nodded his head, seemingly appreciative of her narrative. 

She continued, "And I'm sure you've created priceless bonds while working. I think, as a shinobi or kunoichi, you first begin learning to hone your own personal, individual skills. But I think it is more of a community effort than an individualistic standpoint. I mean, the village wouldn't run without you all. And those men would have died it not for you. So, as a shinobi, you have to put unity - and self-sacrifice - first. It doesn't seem to ever be about you. But about those around you. To learn to protect everything at any cost. For the sake of others." 

"Any cost?" 

Ayame looked over at him analytically, unsure of his question. "Yes, with your life." 

"Right," Kakashi nodded distantly, his mind far beyond their wanderings over the wooden bridge. Ayame stopped, leaning over the overpass to look down. She noticed a few boys fishing below and stood to watch them for a moment. Kakashi stopped as well, looking up at the clouds above as he came up next to her.

"What made you ask me that?" Ayame questioned, looking over at him. 

"I have some special orders," Kakashi said finally, turning to look at her. His elbow rested on the railing. The breeze swept across the side of his face, pushing the thick tufts of grey into his eyes. 

Ayame quirked her eyebrow and smirked, "To quiz me on my patriotism to Konoha?"

"Not like that," Kakashi laughed, waving a hand dismissively. "I'm just curious."  

She stilled for a moment, feeling the wind in her ringing ears as she looked back down at the boys below. One had caught a red skipper, joyfully showing it off to his friend. The other cheered, dropping his wooden rod in celebration. 

"It has been discussed that you have the potential to be quite a powerful kunoichi. The way you handled yourself against Daichi was clear evidence. I would say you have the ability to overcome the injury to your chakra. The more you train, the stronger you'll become."  

"I don't think so," Ayame turned away suddenly, leaning over the railing and folding her fingers. What did she want? Her two desires mingled together, mudding themselves in her mind. 

"I don't know, actually. It's not as though I grew up using my jutsu as you all did. I don't even have the proper academy background as even the youngest shinobi in this village have." 

"Do you want to know what I think?" Ayame looked over at him again. His eyebrows shifted to his hairline, and the fabric around his mouth bunched into a smirk. 

"I suppose you're going to tell me anyway, huh?" Ayame chuckled easily. 

"I'm not forcing you to do anything," Kakashi began, leaning his elbow against the railing to look at her. "No one is. But you seem to appreciate the dedication and work it takes to become a shinobi. And what it stands for. I would give my life for those in the village. And everything about the way you handled yourself on this last mission tells me you would do the same, even if you don't know it yet." 

Ayame nodded her head, looking out at the skipping fish. Another breeze brushed her flyaways from her hairline. 

"I know. I understand. So I take it your orders are to recruit me?"

"No," Kakashi hesitated, "my orders are to train you." 

"Train me?" Ayame turned, looking at him surprised and skeptical. 

"If you want," Kakashi lifted his hands defensively with a smile. "I am a fairly notable sensei." 

Ayame laughed again tenderly, placing her chin in her hand as she looked out over the horizon. She could feel his eyes on her, his elbow leaning coolly over the railing to face her. 

"Can I think about it?" Ayame asked, glancing at him. 

"Of course. I don't expect you to drop your life as it is and join a risky occupation like mine."

"I'm not sure if I want to join your cult," Ayame farced, smirking at him from the side. She heard him chuckle next to her, looking out at the river below. The breathy sounds of his laughter she had evoked caused a ripple of satisfaction to fade slowly into her skin. She smiled, sighing. 

Ayame stood up straight, turning to him. The wind rattled his hair more, transforming it into more of a chaotic mess than it already was. She folded her hands at her waist, considering his last comment. She had thought about it endlessly in the previous two weeks, so his sudden request to have her train with him certainly shocked her. 

"Don't doubt yourself," he added unexpectedly. She scoffed playfully, feigning confidence and turning her head away to hide her burning ears. When she looked back, his eye had transformed into a crescent moon, a genuine smile dancing across his cheekbones. 

"I wouldn't have agreed to any of this if I didn't think there was a reasonable chance of you being a skilled kunoichi," Kakashi admitted, "trust me on that. You've proven yourself."

Ayame folded her arms again, another gust of sakura blooms rushing past them. She watched them land in the river, floating past the boys who returned to fishing for their next meal. 

"Thank you," Ayame said finally. "I will think about it. And let you know." 

Kakashi nodded his head, a smile hidden under the fabric of his mask. 

"Well, I'm right over there," he pointed, a round blue apartment complex across the river. "If you need anything, just come here. I can see the bridge from my window." 

As he walked around her, Ayame looked over at the tiny apartment building and considered his response. Just come here. 

"And Ayame?"  

She turned, surprised he was still even near her as her mind had begun to wander. Walking backward, he shoved his hands back in his pockets. 

"Although I'm not exactly happy with the way you administered the antidote in the cache, thank you for saving me." 

Her top teeth tried to tame the grin that crept across her lips. She rolled her eyes at him, "had I known you'd try to recruit me, I should have left you there."  

"I doubt it," he winked. 

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Beyond the gates of Konoha, deep within the Land of Lotus' muddied grounds, a pair of green eyes stared sharply at his work. Three vials of a glowing blue aura dripped slowly from a tube that traveled into the cracked ceiling above. He stacked two fists on top of one another on the desk, placing his chin in them to watch the liquid. 

Drip, drip, drip.

The contents of the vials barely grew. The man grumbled to himself, shaking his head in disgust. 

"I can't believe Daichi's gone," the green-eyed man sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair. The room was no larger than a closet, with a metal desk placed in front of the man. A foul stench enveloped the room. 

 In a bed next to him, a woman with locks of blond, grimy hair laid placid against the pillow, throwing an apple in the air and catching it. 

"Doesn't matter anymore," the girl said curtly, "He was arrogant and careless. He should have just ransacked the place, gotten the scroll, and came back."

"I should have never trusted him," the man said gruffly, "I should have just done it myself." 

"Then she would have seen you," the blond pointed out, taking a bite of the apple. 

"I don't care," the man stood, his soiled feet kicking the chair in disgust. "Better than her getting that scroll. I should have gotten the scroll first and then deployed everything. How senseless I am. Now look at this; we barely have anything." 

He gestured to the vials on the chrome table and sighed heavily. 

"Can't predict the future," the girl reminded him coolly with a mouth full of apple. 

"But we can change it." 

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The dark side of the moon tilted in the sky, its crescent shadow illuminating a golden sickle that threw off surprising light. The heavy breeze from earlier that day remained. The humidity level elevated.

A tuft of silver hair laid under a comforter embroidered with green shuriken. One eye remained open, staring at the tiled ceiling above. His stomach growled uncomfortably, causing a sigh to escape from him. Lifting a hand, the jonin slid it through his hair restlessly. 

What had he done? How could he have recruited this girl to become a shinobi when it wasn't even her choice in the first place. Things were changing, indeed. Not everyone was destined to be a shinobi from birth. 

A strong sense of guilt mounted in his chest, making the origin of his nausea unclear as to whether it was from his medication or the nagging feeling that he could be responsible for another lost person in this world if she were to enlist. It wasn't that he didn't trust himself to train her properly. But the what-if certainly stirred a sense of anxiety in him that was very unlike him. 

Everyone he knew and cared for was a shinobi. Why did it bother him now? 

Get ahold of yourself, he groaned to himself. It’s not your responsibility and you have orders. 

Another sigh escaped from his lips as he swung the blanket off of him. In the window behind his bed, he observed the heavy moon in the sky, its contents decorating the pavement and river below in a soft glow. A breeze flew in his cracked window, tickling his nose with a familiar scent. A mixture of the grime from the river and the pleasant aroma of lavender blended in his overly sensitive nose. His eyebrows came together in confusion. 

A lot of things smell of flowers, he reminded himself coarsely. 

And yet, standing on the bridge was Ayame, her arms bundled tightly around a white sack that she held close to her chest. Frowning, he watched her for a moment, unsure if he was seeing her correctly. But the unmistakable scent of her freshly cleaned and braided hair caused his stomach to knot. Was she here for him? Or was she just going for a walk? At this time of night?  

Looking over at the clock, Kakashi noted the time. It was nearly 11:00, and he couldn't help but wonder what she was doing. Regardless of if she was here for him or not, he decided to see if she was alright. Blinking once more, he watched her lean against the bridge with the bundle in her hands. Her head tilted towards his building. 

She is here for me.

The breeze picked up, and the sakura flowers from earlier drifted across her view as her eyes unmistakably scanned his blue building. 

Throwing his jacket and sandals on, he quickly flew down the steps and out the door of his apartment building. This may not be the perfect time to tell her, but he had to. He couldn't let her join. He couldn't bear to watch an innocent person become a warrior. Of course, she had potential, but ultimately it should be her decision to join. He had tried to keep his words neutral, but the dialogue in his head from earlier twisted itself to make him believe he could have skewed her decision. 

Get. ahold. of. yourself, he told himself angrily. 

His swift gait quickly replaced itself with the usual casual stride his legs typically paced themselves at. Absently, he shoved his hands in his pockets and trudged forward over the bridge towards the young girl. 

"Ayame?" 

Turning her head, he caught another intoxicating wif of the scented shampoo that clung to her hair. She smiled immediately as her eyes rested on him as he walked towards her. 

"Kakashi-san," she greeted, the audible noise of his name on her tongue sounded like a content sigh. The sound tickled his already queasy stomach. 

"Why are you out so late?" he asked quizzically, leaning against the railing himself. He glanced down at the bundle against her chest, and she smiled, standing up. 

"I made you some soup," she stood, pushing a container wrapped in a white cloth forward. He looked down, thankful for the darkness surrounding them as he felt blood rush to his cheeks.

He tilted his head quizzically, unsure of how to respond to the kind gesture. 

"You said you were nauseous," she explained quickly, waiting for him to take the parcel. "So I pulled together some soup when I got home. It's an old recipe my grandmother used to make for us when we were sick. It always helped me feel better. I hope it hel-"

"Thank you," Kakashi replied gratefully, taking the bundle. It was still warm in his hands. The gesture stunned him, and the warmth of the soup in his hands radiated through his entire body. Momentarily, he forgot what he had intended to tell her. 

"I appreciate this," he held the parcel up, the silence growing awkward as he collected his thoughts. 

"You're welcome," Ayame smiled at him. 

Were her cheeks red as well? Oh god, he thought. He couldn't do this. 

"Ayame, I wanted to talk to you about our conversation earlier," Kakashi began hesitantly. Her expression changed. 

"Yes, I wanted to speak with you as well."

"You first, then," he offered, shifting his weight to his other foot.

He expected her to say no. To say she didn't want to join and instead remain an anonymous citizen of Konoha, utilizing her Kekkei Genkai as a means of generating precious flowers for the Yamanaka Flower Shop. He expected her to say, "thank you for the offer, but I decline," and then to walk away from him, only to pass by him at different times on the street in the near future. 

"I think I'll do it," is what she told him instead. "I want to protect the village. I don't want anyone to go through what I went through or what those shinobi went through this week." 

Kakashi blinked, blindsided by this woman yet again in less than 5 minutes. 

"You do?" he asked, feeling his finger twitch nervously against his bundle of soup. 

"I was thinking about it while I was hospitalized, to be honest with you," she admitted, looking away, "I didn't want to mention it. I also didn't think it was a possibility. I figured you had to be born here or something. But you said you had orders?"

Kakashi nodded, looking above her head as he processed her words. The image of his dream crossed his mind. The uncomfortable feeling of not being in control crept up his spine. He shook his head, composing himself. 

"I do," he confessed with a nod, "from the Hokage." 

Ayame blinked, clearly taken aback by his words. "The Hokage wants me to join her shinobi army?" She asked incredulously, her voice teetering on laughter. 

Kakashi let his bones relax as she laughed, "she said you have potential." 

Ayame paused, folding her arms loosely around her torso, "well, that's the highest compliment I've ever received. But what was it that you want to talk about?"

"Oh," he shrugged, "It's nothing. I just - as long as you are comfortable and understand-" 

"I understand," she interrupted. He narrowed his eyebrows, surprised again by her definite tone. Her eyes glistened as she stared back at him. 

Realizing, she replied, "I've weighed the pros and cons of it for two weeks in a hospital bed. I know what you are referring to. A shinobi's life cannot be easy. But I wouldn't say yes if I didn't think it was worth it. I couldn't protect my brother or my family. So I want to protect Konoha."

She waited for his response, her eyes tracing the line of his mask that hugged his cheekbones. 

A smile crept over his lips as he bobbed his silver head in a nod, seemingly content with her response. Crickets sang in the brush below them, filling the void of silence. Her response eased the tension in his shoulders as he looked back down at her. 

"Then we start tomorrow," he told her abruptly. "Meet me here at dawn."

"But it's nearly 11:30!" she protested, her lips twitching as she guffawed at him. "That is barely enough time for a good night's sleep."

Kakashi turned on his heel, raising his eyebrows in delight at her reaction. He chuckled to himself as he held the soup against his chest, walking away. 

"Should have thought of that before you came here so late then!" 

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A/N: Hello all! Thank you for reading. It really means a lot to me. I have been in a pretty dark situation/headspace lately and planning out and writing this fic has really helped me. Watching your story come together and seeing people enjoy it is an immense confidence booster. So I appreciate you all. I’ll be writing prompts in between too! <3 

[ricaffeine]

𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐓𝐰𝐨

an: in conclusion i suck at writing, this took far too long to write and i'm not impressed. fingers crossed that the next chapter will make up for it 🖤

leave a comment! i'd appreciate it a lot :))

CHAPTER THREE

The doors creaked open, screeching into the frosty silent of the night, before snapping loudly against the wall. In contrast of the dark night, the full moon shined proudly, its light gently twinkled through the glass ceiling of the room.

Followed by were firm footsteps, shoe soles tapped against the hardwood floor and fainted into the distant. He collapsed onto his arm chair, a sigh of relief washing over as he shifted his weight back.

A knock was heard twice, followed by a steady pace of footsteps that visited the room. Kangtae averted his vision to the man– no, the ghost. Polished in his neat blue uniform, reflecting against the moonlight was a silver half-moon shaped pin tucked above his chest.

"Mr. Moon, you're back." His voice emitted softly as he stopped right in front of the desk- exactly four feet away– accompanying in this hotel for over seventy years– the longest person aside from Kangtae yet to stay, he had his own merits. Jin Hyun paused reluctantly, his wrinkles creasing from concern, eyes wide alert. "What happened to your hand?"

At first a bit muddled, but realization crept after him and Kangtae sighed. Glancing at his blood-clothed hand– scenarios of red winded up in his head. "Ah.. this?"

That impulsive woman.

"Just some accident." His reply was simple– like the man he was and unlike the moon guest house's previous owner, he was, you can say, far less complicated.

Kangtae peeled at his clothed hand, anticipating as the blood wrenched skin morphed back to what was before, clean flesh took back its place. "Where's Manager Lee?"

He then reached for his whiskey decanter, filling up a quarter of the lowball glass. "Isn't she back yet?"

Jinhyun hesitated. "About that, I'm afraid to tell you that there had been a major issue regarding your latest purchase. But do not worry sir, Manager Lee will inform you once she has discussed with the–"

"Tell her to take the day off tomorrow." Kangtae spoke and sipped his glass, embracing the scorching burn that drained down his chest. "I'll manage it myself."

Although struck in confusion, the old spirit knew better than to question his boss's command. Jinhyun nodded reluctantly, made sure he would address the message to the mortal being.

"It's the full moon today, so I think we are expecting many guests."

Kangtae drained his glass and set it back on the table, jaw clenched at the comment– though it was swiftly masked away with his poker face. "Open for business, but don't accept the ones whose death were so gruesome. They're a pain in the ass."

Suppressing the urge to tell him that discriminations shouldn't be allowed, instead Jinhyun bowed, no interest to provoke any further into his bitterness. "I will take special care, so they won't get in your way."

He left with another steady bow, footsteps fell into the distant and Kangtae picked on the red stained cloth that layed flat on his desk. A blue flame lit up on its end, he watched waves of blue consumed all of it, before golden ashes swirled and vanished into thin air.

One speck however, did not follow and he reached out, trapping it between his pincers.

"Ko Munyeong, what should I do with you?"

Munyeong slapped her phone shut.

Frustration built up like a ticking bomb as she threw it behind her. It landed with a loud thud, but she could care less. Yesterday's event had bittered her enough and Sangin's repeating missed calls since 6 a.m. weren't brightening her mood any better. Tires screeched against the waxed floor as she struck a sharp turn into the parking slot, the reserved for CEO sign knocked into nowhere.

In her new prized possession, Munyeong stomped through the building, brave less employees– who ever barely had the guts to look at her on a usual day, shuddered twice as much–

"Good morning Ms. Ko!" The tiny body wiggled its way to block her off. A weary smile is served from Sangin's pesky assistant.

"Move aside."

Seungjae shuffled, hands suspiciously frantic as she spoke. "Mr. Lee just informed me that he will be here soon–"

Munyeong hissed. "And?"

"..And that you should go wait in his office." She finished meekly, unsure of her tone.

"Why would I wait there?" She pointed her finger foward. "The meeting room is right here."

Not intrigued for her reply, Munyeong nagged the girl's shoulder, rather she'd figure it out herself.

"Move."

She strolled across, then paused within her pace, eyes captivated by a figure. Leaning onto the metal rail, Prada purse dangling in the air, she hummed in her own favor.

Ah. Him again.

"What a sight." Munyeong said as she stepped down in her extravagant red mini dress, ballooned sleeves cuffed tight at her wrists, a plunging neckline where she proudly presents her new gold necklace. True to her words, he appeared just as fine. Black slacks– which to her favor, did an incredible job in displaying his godly thighs. Cuffed sleeves of his button up accentuated his broad broad shoulders, and the spectacular waistcoat that hugged his chest.

"You look more dashing in these clothes."

The man teared his eyes away from The Witch's Rose– another of her cash-claiming pieces. A work of watercolors and actual blood splayed onto the canvas, everyone who has seen it ends up in complete awe.

However his gaze was not purely admiration, rather laced with criticism– certainly something she never enjoyed from anyone. But there are some exceptions for some specific people, aren't they?

"I thought you were different, but I was obviously wrong." She crossed her arms. "How much did he offer you?"

His voice was rough, almost coarse even. "If you can't talk politely, at least try to not be so cryptic."

"Ah. Look at you talking so casually."

Munyeong raised her chin and barged into his space, weaklings would have already shown signs of discomfort, but surprisingly he was remarkably unbothered. She dragged a finger along his shoulder, the curve of his skin firm beneath her touch, and tapped his bicep. "I practically stabbed you."

He swiveled around, this time his body directly faced hers. "What about it?"

"How much did Mr. Lee offer you to compensate and make sure your mouth stays shut?"

A short spur of silence fell before he let out an cocky ahh. "I'm guessing that method always works."

Her smile dropped. "Verbal consolation is bullshit, money is best."

"You really think so?"

She shrugged. "Then what do you want?" Eyes wide as she suggested. "Sex?"

In a swift moment he had drowned closer to her. His gaze burned at her, brushing at her lips and froze. "Is it worth that much?"

Admittedly he was good at getting on her nerves. Too good, though she'd never lose to anyone, including him. Munyeong let out a scoff.

"If you're not here for money nor sex, then what do you want?

He cocked his head slightly, his prominent eyes playing innocent and for a second Munyeong forgot that they were bickering. "A refund?"

A snap back to reality, her face laced with confusion. "What refund?"

He dodged her question and looked over her shoulder. "Ah. There it comes."

She turned around to see a Sangin entering with a box of not-so-secret cash in his hands.

"Good afternoon Mr. Moon Kangtae. I deeply apologize for what happened, what can we do–"

As usual, meetings with her always began with Sangin's devastated face– knowing all the trouble she is going to cost him– but today it did seem particularly worse.

Kantae lifted his hand, as if it was a sign to stop. "Let's cut to the chase– I want my money back."

Sangin's smile dropped, though immediately replaced by his appealing mask. "Yes, I understand–"

Kangtae stared at Munyeong, a smirk rising on the corner of his lips. "Including our little incident, I say it'd be 11 million."

Tragically, Munyeong had not noticed by the consequence of the appalling numbers. She snapped at the man to her side. "What the hell is he talking about?"

Sangin sighed. "Munyeong-ah, you see.. your little smashing session. It had wrecked The Nightmare Garden, therefore, we will have to repay our client. Mr. Kangtae is here to–"

Client?

Her eyes shot at him again, impossibly wider. "What do you mean client? Then who was that snobby lady?"

"Ms. Lee is my representative." Kangtae stepped in. "But it doesn't matter. The fact that you jeopardized my painting with that cheap wine-"

"I'm not giving up my money!"

"Well, there's nothing you can do." He smiled– devilishly and yes Munyeong would kill to wipe it off his charming face.

"You'll be hearing from my lawyers in a few days." Kangtae reached for his box of honey money, which was sheepishly handed from Sangin. "Until then, I'll take this."

With another amused– and irritatingly handsome smile, and piles of cash he headed off. Left in silence was a raging pit of fire and its hopeless manager.

Three hours and seven corspe employees later, Munyeong crumbled the paper cup in her hand. Furious was an understatement. How could she give her money back to him? She was set, eyes on her prize but just like a fucking clownery it vanished into thin air.

"Aish Moon Kangtae, that bastard." Munyeong trampled at the crumbled trash, letting out on a slice of her frustration. It was his choice to interfere with her, no one forced him to.

"Oh my my, you're a such a pretty girl." A squeaky voice giggled, penetrating into her quiet atmosphere.

She glanced at the lady, head to toe. Dressed in a horrifying shade of hot pink. Her frail grey hair was topped by a floppy hat- also in the same absurd color. She seemed to fond pearls, as it was accented everywhere, including on wrinkly her fingers where she had slotted a card in between. "Mr. Kangtae had asked me to pass this to you."

Her high-pitched voice rang like bells as she added. "He also said that he'd be willing to compromise, if' you go visit his hotel."

Munyeong raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

With a delighted smile, the lady nodded along and Munyeong promptly snatched it, ambiguous eyes interpreted onto the cursive blue lettering.

"Hotel.. Blue Moon?"

A condescending smile played on her lips. More so amused by the piece of paper and unaware of the soft breeze that swept past her.

Fine. If he wants to play with her, she'll play with him.

[mxpseudonym]

Your Last Good Pair

Pairing: Tommy x Reader (femme, first person POV)

Summary: Tommy’s wants to make sure his replacement gift fits

Length: 1242 words (allegedly)

Warnings: It’s a spicy PG, like a PG+. A slight hint, a whisper really, of Dom Tommy.

A/N: It feels like a Saturday here, so I felt like writing. I’ll be writing some Sherlock stuff today too. I hope everyone is staying as safe as they can. ❤️ 

I told Esme to go home early. She had a little one on the way, her ankles were swollen, and she was fucking cranky. I all but threw her out of the betting shop, and into the muddy streets of Birmingham.

Not that I minded closing up shop on this Tuesday anyway. It was a bit of work and could take me an hour longer than usual, but I liked it. I wasn't a Shelby, but I'd just finished school the year before and was more than qualified to be the best secretary or bookkeeper in the city. On top of that, I knew numbers, and I knew loyalty. That's what mattered most. 

It was a quarter past 9 pm when I began putting the money in the safe, and when Thomas Shelby scared me bad enough to nearly drop every coin in the bag. He slammed the back door shut and breezed in, clearly with work on his mind, but stopped when he saw me steady myself on the table with a hand on my chest. 

"What are you doing?" He asked, looking me over, then looking around, noticing the open safe. 

"Just closing the shop, Tommy," I told him, quickly recovering. 

"You shouldn't be here on your own," he looked me over again, lingering on my bare calves, then started towards his office. "Finish that up and come see me."

"Sure thing."

Tommy and I had been flirting since I started working there. It was a fun little distraction for both of us. I didn't think either of us was going to do much beyond that. He probably hadn't either. But two months ago he'd offered me a drink after hours, which I wasn't going to decline. He had the best whiskey in town. We talked about horses and school but then spoke about the future. 

"You're going to have a legacy, Thomas Shelby. I'm just glad to be a small part of it while I'm here," I told him. 

Someone having faith in you can be utterly attractive apparently because were kissing against his office door before the night was over. Our in-office flirting became more real and was, quite honestly, sent me into a pent up desire induced state of restlessness in the beginning. Whenever we were alone, we were all over each other. Before graduating, Rachel Wheeler from my old typing class once called me a prude because I wouldn't wear a tacky tin anklet. She'd be surprised to know that I may not have an affinity for anklets, but getting fucked in a safe full of money was all the rage where I was concerned. 

I walked into his office, and he had me close the door. He just looked at me for a moment, leaning back in his chair with a cigarette in hand. He nodded to the table behind me, and I turned to see a box.

"Is this for me?" I asked, not at all hiding my surprise. 

"Open it," he nodded. I did as I was told. Inside was a beautifully wrapped set of stockings in three colors. Two were silk, and one was everyday cotton. 

"Tommy,"

"I'm the one who ruined your last good pair, and I'm the one who needs to fix it," he said. 

This was where many women would tell him he didn't have to go out of his way. But he really did ruin last good stockings when he wanted to be more adventurous during our impromptu trip to his Uncle Charlie's yard on Saturday. When you're kneeling outdoors in a scrapyard, ladies, always check for things that snag like loose nails. They'll do a number on even the finest cotton, and you'll have irreparable runs in the material. Replacing them was only right. 

"These are so lovely," I picked up a pearl-colored stocking. 

"Come," he said, motioning me forward. I stepped closer, but he moved back and made space between him and the desk. That was my cue to fill it, and cautiously I did. With a gentle push against my hip, Tommy made me sit on the desk. "Let's see about trying them on, eh?"

"Sure," I nodded. Tommy moved closer, easily parting my knees. His hand reached down and gently grasped my bare ankle. When he'd discarded my shoe, he asked,

"Is this alright?" 

"Yes, I think so," I nodded. His fingertips skimmed their way to my knee but stopped at the sound of my question-like response.

"You think, or you know?"

"Yes, this is alright, Tommy," I cleaned up my answer to his approval. He always asked if it was alright, and he wanted me to mean it if I said yes. I didn't believe him until I had to say no once. That's another story. But in conclusion, I thought he'd be mad. Instead, he responded then like he was responding today. 

"Good girl," He praised me. He damn well knew what those words did to me. I was top of my class in school and wanted to keep that excellence in everything. The first time he'd said them to me was before we even began our fling. I broke the teacup I was holding out of surprise. Not at his words, but how quickly they made me stir inside. 

"Are you wearing a garter?"

"Yes,"

"Show me," he ordered like he ordered everything in life. And as with the other orders, I obeyed. My skirt was pushed up to pool around the tops of my thighs. My tan garter belt with nothing to hold up was revealed to my boss. I was charged with holding the cigarette while Tommy quite gently removed my heel. He stroked my calf, and I could feel the heat crawling onto my face. The feeling of silk was new to me, and I quickly decided I liked it best when Tommy was sliding it on. My soft gasp, when he grazed the inside of my thigh, made him smirk. He hooked the stocking in place before admiring his handy work. "How does that feel?"

"So nice," I sighed. I felt the material, running my hand over it myself. 

"I'm glad. I try to be a man of my word," he said. It wasn't the exact truth, but neither of us needed to argue that. He stood then, letting my legs be widened by his hips. "Am I forgiven?"

"I wasn't even that upset."

"You've been brooding."

"Brooding?" I tilted my head back with a hum as I thought back to the past three days while my hand idly ran down his chest.

"I've never heard more about the temperature of someone's exposed legs than I have from you in the last two days," he pointed out.

"How was I supposed to withstand the chill until payday?" 

"It's summer," he noted. I rolled my eyes but leaned up to kiss him anyway.

"Thank you." Leaning back, I reached up to toy with the buttons on my blouse. My silk cover foot crept up to brush the front of his tenting trousers. "So much."

"It's my pleasure, love," Tommy said with a knowing smirk. He used it when he'd let me dance around having the upper hand before he took it for himself. I used the word that made him as weak as being a good girl made me. 

"Sir, now that we know what it's like on, maybe we should try taking it off?"

"My thoughts exactly."

[chocoluckchipz]

The Other You - 18

Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad

< Previous

Releasing his transformation, Adrien plopped onto his bed face first. This night couldn’t have gone any better and any worse at the same time. How could he be so lucky yet so unfortunate? A pitiful groan escaping his lips, Adrien hid his face in a pillow. “This is a disaster.”

“Which part exactly?” Plagg snorted, flying straight to his stash of Camembert. “The ‘Ladybug is Marinette’ bit or you chickening out on your side of the reveal?”

“Both,” Adrien whined. “I’m a coward. Couldn’t even tell the girl I love my name. And why? Just because she spent years hating me, and, to be honest, I’m not even sure where I stand with her right now. What if she still hates me?”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“But what if she does but just doesn’t show it around me?”

“You can always tell her the truth and find out,” Plagg snickered, opening a wheel of Camembert.

Adrien shook his head. “Absolutely not. I can’t. Not until I’m certain she likes Adrien enough to consider him a potential boyfriend.”

“She likes you just fine for that.” 

“She tolerates me just fine. I need her to love me.”

Plagg rolled his eyes, sending a slice of gooey cheese into his mouth. “Remind me then who just admitted to being in love with you?”

Adrien flipped on his back, letting out a heavy sigh. “She loves Chat. Not Adrien.”

“You’re the same person.”

“And that’s the issue. Don’t you get it?” Adrien sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. “If Marinette finds out that Chat Noir is also Adrien Agreste before she starts liking Adrien more than she does now, there is a huge chance she'll reject me altogether. And I don't want that. I can't lose her now. I love her.”

Licking his paws, Plagg shrugged, an empty box of Camembert lying by his feet. “I fail to see the issue. You're an ex-supermodel, present-day superhero, CEO of a fashion empire, with the charm and charisma of Casanova. Don’t you know how to seduce a girl? You’ve got looks, money and charm. Use them.”

Adrien glared at the kwami. “I don’t want to seduce her. There’s a difference between love and lust.”

“Yeah. One leads to another. I’m telling you—seduce her. She’ll fall in love with you in the process. Just like my beloved Camembert. It first seduces me with its luscious looks and aroma. But it’s that first bite, that sweet moment when it starts melting in my mouth that I fall in love with it.”

“I’m afraid not everyone is as simple-minded as you, Plagg,” Nooroo joined the conversation. “Adrien’s right. The key here should be an emotional connection, not physical attraction.”

Adrien nodded. “I need to prove my worth to her as a friend and a potential partner. If she can like me enough to see my potential for something more than just a friendship, only then will I have a viable chance in this.”

“Yeah, that’s cool and all,” Plagg grumbled. “But how are you going to make that happen in those ten minutes per day you interact with her as Adrien? It’s not like you can just waltz in instead of ‘Felix’ or Chat to use their time with her. And I don’t think she has more time for Adrien you.”

Adrien stilled. Use some of the time of his other personas? Chat’s slot would be out of the question but it was a different story with ‘Felix’. There was only a week and a half left until Marinette’s runway at the Fashion Week. The work, though, was mostly done. Realistically, even if ‘Felix’ were to never come back, Marinette would be able to finish in time by herself. But if ‘Felix’ were to leave, Adrien would never be so inconsiderate as to leave her without an assistant at the last moment, and even someone as inexperienced as him could be of help. A grin split his lips as Adrien stood up and stretched.  

“That’s a great idea, Plagg. I’m sure ‘Felix’ wouldn’t mind if I replace him from now on.”

“Do I need to remind you that you can’t sew,” Plagg deadpanned in return. “How in the world will you be able to replace ‘Felix’?”

“At this point, Marinette doesn’t really need him,” Adrien replied, heading for the bathroom to start on his bedtime routine. “He’ll go in tomorrow one more time to bid his farewell and do as much work as he can before leaving. The day after, she’ll have to make do with Adrien. This way, she’ll see enough of me to fall in love and you bet your ass I’ll do my best for that to happen.”

“This is a bad idea,” Plagg grumbled.

“Can anything we’ve done so far be classified as a ‘good idea’?” Adrien shrugged. “It still worked. This will work too.”

Plagg scoffed and headed to his bed-basket, mumbling to Nooroo on his way, “See what I have to deal with?”

Nooroo gave him a weak smile. “At least he isn’t trying to harm anyone.”

“Except himself,” Plagg replied and hid in his basket. “Plagg’s out. Wake me up when my wielder gets smarter.” 

***

‘Felix’ was finishing a dress when he sensed Marinette walking down the hallway. His heart flipped, knocking the wind out of his lungs as he jumped off his chair and rushed to open the door for his precious lady. 

Excuse me!

She shouldn’t be carrying such a heavily-looking bag with him around. 

“Good morning, Marinette. You look absolutely radiant today.” ‘Felix’ bowed his head with his usual emotionless expression. Taking the bag out of her hands and putting it away, he offered her a thermos mug filled with fresh coffee he’d picked up on his way. “Your coffee, Mademoiselle. If you’ll allow me a moment, I’ll warm up your pastry.”

“Ours.” Marinette sighed but gave him a tiny smile. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

“Yes, of course. Ours. Just as you desired. I’ll be right back.”

It took him only five minutes instead of the usual seven to get to the cafeteria, warm up the pastry and come back. A new record. Marinette looked pleased, and that was everything ‘Felix’ needed to pronounce the day a success. 

“How was your evening? I hope you had a good rest?” He asked, placing the plate full of treats on the desk in front of Marinette. 

“I started dating someone very special yesterday,” she answered with the sweetest, dreamiest expression he’d ever seen on her face. 

Even as an exact copy of his cousin who rarely showed his feelings, ‘Felix’ couldn’t withhold a smile from his face. “Oh, my! Congratulations.” 

“Thank you.” Marinette grinned. “And how was your evening? Do anything exciting?”

“Yes,” he responded dryly, his usual detached attitude taking over again. “I exercised my ‘being stupid’ quality.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, Felix. You’re the farthest person from ‘stupid’ I know. Wait, aren’t you joining me?” She asked as soon as ‘Felix’ picked up his work and started to stitch. “Haven’t we agreed to you bringing me breakfast only if you’re sharing it with me?” 

“I’m sorry for putting a frown on such a lovely face as yours, but I’m not feeling like eating right now.”

In fact, a single croissant stuffed in his mouth and a cup of coffee downed on his way to work was all that ‘Felix’ could manage today as his new goals overwhelmed him with unimaginable force upon transforming. ‘Get as much work done as possible and find out Marinette’s true feelings towards Adrien while he’s at it.’ No food would sit well with him until his mission was fulfilled. 

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes. Just a bit queasy. It’ll pass. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Maybe you should take a day off? We’re ahead of schedule, you know.”

He shook his head. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I left such an amazing person as yourself alone at the last moment? I’ll be fine.”

“Is there anything I can do for you then? To make it easier?”

‘Felix’ grabbed at the opportunity without much thought. “Tell me about your friendship with Adrien back in your school days.”

No answer followed for the longest moment. ‘Felix’ spun around in his chair, still stitching the seam, and looked at Marinette. She stared at him with her eyes wide and lips slightly parted. 

 “Was that too rude of me to ask? I heard you weren't on the best terms with him lately. My humblest apologies if I crossed any lines.”

Marinette blinked, still frozen in place. “No. That’s fine. We… we’re good now. Um… Why do you want to know?”

‘Felix’ reached for scissors, continuing his work. “He’s my cousin. I want to know things about him.”

“Then why don’t you ask him ?”

“He’s busy.”

“I’m busy too.”

“But you’re busy in the same room as me, while Adrien is hard to get a hold of these days.”

Marinette seemed to think about it for a moment before taking a sandwich off the plate. “Alright. What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

She wrinkled an eyebrow. “What do you mean by everything?”

“I want to know every experience you shared with my cousin while he was at school with you. What made you two click? Why did you decide he was worthy of your friendship? Was he a good friend to you?”

“Seriously?” Marinette deadpanned. “Felix, be realistic. We were attached at the hip for years. I can’t possibly tell you everything .”

He turned around, his hands never stopping their work. “Then, why don’t you tell me your favourite moments with him? Or the reasons you liked him? You did have a crush on Adrien, didn’t you?”

Her cheeks dusted pink, Marinette looked to the side. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to remember the ‘crush’ part—”

“Why not? It’s in the past now, right?”

She hesitated but still nodded. “Of course. I just told you that I have a new boyfriend and he is not your cousin.” 

‘Felix’s’ lips curled in a smug smile. “Too bad. Adrien’s a catch, wouldn’t you say so? Pretty sure he’ll be making the top of the Paris’ Most Eligible Bachelors list this year with Gabriel’s fortune in his hands now. Add in his model looks and innate charm, and I’m quite shocked he doesn’t have a crowd of fangirls following him everywhere.”

“Maybe he isn’t as great as you think he is,” Marinette huffed and turned away, crossing her arms over her chest. The pink of her cheeks still showed. “Personally, I don’t care about money. And my boyfriend can easily give your Adrien a run for his looks and charm.”

“Oh, really?” 

“Yes. He’s much better looking. Incredibly charming. Has a better character, too.”

“And you know a lot about Adrien’s character?”

“I know enough.”

“Then tell me. I have a few more pieces to finish. I’d love to hear all about your thoughts on my cousin.”

Marinette took a few moments to compose herself before obliging ‘Felix’ with the stories of her teenage adventures with Adrien, Alya, and Nino. The longer she talked, the fonder her eyes grew. She slowly relaxed, forgetting she had work to do as well. A few stories deep into her narrative, ‘Felix’ noticed a warm smile gracing her lips. By the time Marinette finished, she didn’t even bother to hide it.

“You seem to miss those times,” ‘Felix’ noted when Marinette fell quiet.

Marinette let a deep sigh out. “Yeah, sometimes.”

“You do know he’s not against being your friend again, right?”

She shied away just a bit, her eyes focusing on the papers before her. “Yeah, I know that.”

“And what about you?”

Marinette stilled for a fleeting moment before shrugging. "I think I'm slowly warming up to the idea. Not that I'm anywhere near ready to jump back in head-first, but I don’t think it’s impossible anymore.”

‘Felix’ grinned for the first time in his existence, quickly turning away from Marinette with the pretense of needing scissors. “I hope it works out for you two. You’ve been angry with each other long enough.”

“We’ll see,” Marinette responded, getting up and getting ready to work. “Now, let’s finish this line.”

“Already on it.” ‘Felix’ raised the piece he was working on. “One pair of shorts coming up in about two hours.” 

***

Hands clasped together behind his back, Adrien paced the studio in anticipation of Marinette’s arrival. He tried sitting in a chair to calm his heart’s erratic beat only to jump up a moment later to resume his anxious pacing. 

Marinette had told ‘Felix’ yesterday that she was warming up to the idea of renewing a friendship with him. He was on the right track. He couldn’t screw up now whatever it cost. He had to execute this perfectly and for that, he needed to—

“Kid, relax,” Plagg grumbled from his shirt pocket. 

“I can’t,” Adrien whined, tightening and relaxing his fists. “I want to, but I can’t. What if she kicks me out? There’s no real need for me to be here, so that’s a possibility.”

“Then you’ll come up with another stupid idea to make her fall for you. Big deal. Nothing new.”

“You don’t get it. I need this to work—”

“Felix?”

He almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of Marinette’s voice, his eyes darting to her as she came into the room. Breath caught in his chest, Adrien froze. Marinette had always been beautiful, but today she looked gorgeous. Impeccably put together, elegant and sexy, she filled the room with light, warmth and the scent of fresh flowers just by entering. Adrien could swear her face glowed with freshness, her lips curled mischievously into a teasing smile. His heart speeding up, he swallowed.

 “Mood—goom—good mornood—Ugh!” He took in a breath to calm down, his hand automatically reaching to rub the nape of his neck. “I’m sorry. Good morning, Marinette.”

An eyebrow quirking above her beautiful, blue eyes, she cocked her head to the side. “Good morning, Adrien.”

“Busted.” He nervously chuckled. "Not many people can distinguish between Felix and me when we're apart. I’m impressed. What gave me away?”

Marinette shrugged, heading for her desk. “Your clothes have colours other than every shade of grey. You aren't trying to cater to my every possible whim, and I can actually see emotions on your face. Not to mention Felix would’ve considered your hairstyle an unkempt mane.”

Adrien’s hands shot to his hair. “Hey, I groomed today.”

“Don’t worry,” Marinette let out a chuckle. “That’s Felix’s preferences. Not everyone else’s. Your hair looks just fine.”

“Just so you know, I wasn’t really trying to fool you into thinking I was Felix,” Adrien replied, a smug smile on his lips a moment later. “Because if I did try, you’d never know the difference.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “You might look incredibly alike but I’ve never seen more drastically different people.”

Adrien moved closer, leaning on the table. “Really? How so?”

“I’m sure I don’t have to explain the difference to you, Adrien.”

“But I’m curious what you think. Please? I brought you food.” He pointed to a pastry box and a thermos mug of coffee on her desk. “Don’t I deserve a reward for that?”

Marinette barely suppressed a giggle. “You sound just like someone I know. He’ll also do anything for food.”

“And is there something wrong with that?”

“Nope, nothing’s wrong with it. It’s just a little silly to see a grown man getting so childishly excited at the sight of a bowl of steaming stew."

Adrien pouted. “Being a grown man doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate great cuisine.” 

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way. It’s kind of endearing. Adorable. You could even say, inspiring.”

He glanced her way skeptically. “Honestly?”

She nodded. “Yup. Now, that aside, would you mind explaining why you are here instead of Felix?”

Adrien straightened up and cleared his throat. “Allow me to introduce to you your new assistant, Mlle Dupain-Cheng. I’m at your service.” 

“What? Where’s Felix?”

“He had to return to London for urgent business, and since a suitable replacement isn’t available right now, I’ll do my best to help you.”

She stared at him for a full half-minute before uttering, “You’re joking, right?”

Adrien shook his head. “Unfortunately, I’m not. Though I must admit I’m not as good as my cousin—in truth, I can’t sew much at all—but I’m more than willing to do anything you entrust me with as long as you show me how to do it. I do manage to run a fashion house without any training, so I’m not a completely lost cause. I’m sure I can be useful to you somehow.”

Marinette blinked a few times before barely suppressing a chuckle. “Adrien, thank you for the offer, but at this point, even without Felix, I’ll be able to finish everything by the deadline myself. I just won’t be early. Better tell me what happened with Felix? I hope he didn’t have to rush off because of something bad?”

Adrien shook his head. “No, nothing like that. I’m not really sure what’s going on over there, but he told me it was nothing to be concerned about.”

“Knowing him, it doesn’t make me feel any better,” Marinette sighed. “I do hope he’ll come for the show, though. He practically single-handedly made half of this collection."

“I’ll pass on the invitation but I can't promise anything. Now, what do you want me to do?”

Marinette quirked an eyebrow. “Um… I think as CEO, you’ve got more important things to do than to help me. Especially since I don’t really need help anymore.”

 “This is kind of a part of my CEO work,” Adrien replied. “I need to learn not only the paperwork but also the process behind the scenes. Men’s department is way too busy and overwhelming. So, I’d rather hang around here and be useful at the same time. If you don’t mind, of course. I can be useful, I swear. There’s not a lot of sewing left from what I can see, so I can take on getting everything ready while you finish up. I’ll have to leave at around five to tend to my official duties, but I’m sure that’ll be plenty of time for me to learn something and help you at the same time.” Adrien tried the best puppy eyes he could muster. “Please?”

Marinette sighed, sitting down in her chair. “Adrien—”

“If I want to succeed in this whole business, I really, really need to do this.” He put his hands together, raising them up in a pleading motion. “Please, Marinette. I promise I’ll do my best. I’ll do everything you tell me. I’ll be your errand boy. I’ll clean and organize. I’ll learn how to sew if you need me to do that. Anything you want.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “You’re that desperate?”

Adrien feverishly nodded, pushing the pastry box closer to Marinette. “More than I can express.”

Her eyes glazing over the food offering, Marinette let a moment pass by before sighing. “Alright. Are you good at organizing things?”

Adrien grinned. “Extremely. That's one of the things I excel at.”

“Then give me a few moments to prepare and I'll have a ton of papers for you to organize. You can sign them while you're at it since I was going to bring them to you anyway." 

“Thank you.” Adrien beamed. “I promise you won’t regret this.”

“I hope I won’t,” she whispered, picking up the coffee he’d brought her. She took a sip, taking a double glance at the cup. “That’s good. Where did you get it?”

“I brewed it myself.” He proudly grinned, barely containing his excitement. Marinette liked his coffee! Bonus points for him. “A friend inspired me to explore cooking lately, but since I suck at it badly, I decided to start small. There’s a good coffeemaker in my office. I just had to experiment with different blends until I found the one I liked.”

“Is your secret recipe up for sharing?” 

“I don’t know. It took me a long time to come up with this particular blend.”

“Don’t tell me you want my firstborn for it.” Marinette blurted, pulling the pastry box close and looking inside. “I suspect you didn’t bake those…” Crimson flooding her face, she darted her eyes to Adrien. "Wait—I mean as a sacrifice! You know the saying: ‘you must sacrifice your firstborn child to get something,’ yadda, yadda. Don't get me wrong. My firstborn in the general context, not with you…”

Adrien couldn’t hold back any longer. His heartfelt laughter filled the room. A few moments later, he wiped a tear from his eye, giving Marinette a goofy grin. “Sorry. I didn’t realize how much I missed you tripping over your words.”

Marinette covered her face with her hands. “I’m glad you find my humiliation amusing.”

“Hey, I get excited over food like a kid. You say stuff with double meanings by accident. Big deal. I get it, so don’t worry about it.”

Peeking at him through her fingers, Marinette deeply inhaled before she spoke. “Fine. But this never happened and if anyone finds out, you are dead, Agreste .”

Raising his arms, Adrien grinned. “I’m silence embodied. No one will ever know.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m watching you.”

Adrien chuckled. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

***

Everything ran smoothly for a few days. Marinette was slowly finishing her outfits, mostly making last-minute adjustments as the models were being fitted. Meanwhile, Adrien organized all the paperwork related to the line, managed all the fitting schedules, and delivered all of the outfits to the appropriate places. By Friday, most of the collection was packed and ready to go, with only a few pieces needing some minor alterations before they could be packed as well. 

Regarding his “Make Marinette Fall In Love With Me” plan, Adrien didn’t waste time either. He started off by being as nice, considerate, and useful as possible. He continued bringing Marinette coffee and treats in the morning, just as ‘Felix’ had, so they could share them. The same went for their lunches, with Adrien always being the one reminding Marinette that it was time to eat. Along the way, he may have flirted a bit, careful not to cross any lines, yet at the same time trying his best for Marinette to not misunderstand his intentions. Judging by the pink dusting Marinette’s cheeks and her awkward reactions at his intentionally poorly-veiled attempts, it seemed to be effective. 

She slowly relaxed around him, not only joking back but, dare he say it, bantering with him. By Friday, Adrien could no longer detect any of Marinette’s previous reservations in her attitude toward him. All due to his amazing sense of humour, of course. Adrien wasn’t born with a talent like that for nothing. It was, undoubtedly, his jokes and puns that put the final crack in the wall between them. 

Not much longer and Adrien was sure to slide into the “potential boyfriend material” zone. Perhaps even in time for the After-Show Gala next Wednesday. Which was why he was already coming up with a plan to drive the final nail in the coffin as he walked back to the studio after their lunch on Friday. Marinette detoured to visit the ladies’ room, so the moment Adrien closed the doors behind him he called for Plagg.

“Your chocolate milk.” Adrien set the paper carton on the desk. “Try to finish it before Marinette comes back.”

Plagg popped the carton open and, putting in a straw, took a long sip. “She in love with you yet?”

“I don’t think so. Not yet but we’re definitely on a much better basis than just a week ago. Another week? I'm thinking… the After-Show Gala? I’ll need to come up with something extraordinary to woo her.”

“All you need is to show her the goods,” Plagg scoffed. “I keep telling you—seduce her. Show her what she’s been missing.”

“We’ve talked about this.” Adrien groaned. “No one’s seducing anyone, Plagg. We do this the proper way.”

“And what? My way isn’t proper?” Plagg huffed. “It’s not only proper but fast. She’ll be all over you in an instant.”

“Plagg, no.” 

"Have you seen how effective all those mating dances are? The animal kingdom has it right—go out there and show her the goods.”

“Plagg, we humans prefer to do this a different way. At least I do. So please, stop it.”

“Fine,” Plagg grumbled, returning his attention to his drink. Adrien headed to the window to gather his thoughts. He really should aim for the After-Show Gala to do something remarkable. That would be the perfect opportunity.

“Hey, kid?”

Adrien turned around only for a stream of cold liquid to hit his chest. A brown stain soaking his shirt, he leaned forward just in time to prevent any of the milk from spilling below his waist. However, the damage above it was done already.

“Plagg, what the heck?!”

“Oops! Clumsy me.” Plagg innocently batted his eyes. “Good thing I packed an extra shirt in your bag. Hurry up and change before your girlfriend comes back.”

Adrien glared murder at his kwami, scrambling to his bag. “I’ll feed you nothing but those gross, processed, American cheese strings for a month, you fiend. This wasn’t an accident.”

Plagg huffed in return and flew away. Adrien hurried to check his bag and, thankfully, true to Plagg’s words, a black t-shirt was indeed tucked in the corner. Adrien got to unbuttoning his shirt as fast as he could, praying Marinette wouldn’t be back before he changed. His shirt off, he quickly tugged his undershirt over his head, only to see Marinette staring at him from the door.

Her eyes wide, face crimson, she turned away instantly. 

“I’m so sorry,” Adrien rushed to apologize. “I spilled milk on my shirt and I didn’t think you’d be back yet so I thought I’d change here instead of walking to the washroom with soiled clothes on.”

“Just…” She glanced his way, immediately averting her eyes back to the side. “Just put something on and wipe the floor.”

“Yes, of course!” Adrien hurried to pull the t-shirt Plagg oh so graciously packed for him over his head and smoothed it down. Great! It was one of those sleeveless workout t-shirts Adrien didn’t wear anywhere but at the gym because of how form fitting it was. It left even less to the imagination than his Chat Noir suit. Adrien cursed under his breath and, sending another glare Plagg’s way, zipped the bag. That little shit would pay for this! Adrien would make sure of that!  

  ***

If going to their first lunch Adrien didn’t have many expectations, now he couldn’t help but hope Nino and he would be able to put aside their history and make up. Hanging out with Marinette these last few days, Adrien found himself longing for the past times more than he thought he would. Nino was a huge part of that. He still meant a lot to Adrien. And judging by Nino’s persistence, Adrien meant something to him as well. 

True to his nature, Nino came ten minutes early again. Adrien put his cellphone aside and raised his hand to catch Nino’s attention as soon as he caught a glimpse of him. Nino waved back and joined Adrien at the table. They quickly got over the small talk, placed their orders, and plunged into an awkward silence for a few minutes before Adrien murmured, “So…”

“Yeah,” Nino mumbled back, scratching the back of his head. 

“Last time…”

“Didn’t go that well.”

“It didn’t.”

“I was insensitive,” Nino sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s fine.” Adrien protested. “I wasn’t at my best either.”

“Then what do you say we forget the past and try this friendship thing again?”

Adrien had never seen Nino so eager and so dreading to hear the answer at the same time. He smiled. He really did love his friend. “I’m game if you are.”

“That’s the only reason I’m here.”

Matching smiles on their faces, the two men watched each other for a brief moment before Nino got up and walked to Adrien. Offering his hand to Adrien, Nino tugged him up and wrapped him in a tight hug, patting his back. “I missed you, bro.”

Returning the gesture, Adrien chuckled. “I missed you too.”

Next >

[doflamingadonquixote]

An Almost Perfect Life - 3/?

Summary: You are a young career woman at one of the bank in London and, at the same time, attending a PhD in Statistics. Your life was perfect until your apartment was invaded by two demons.

Pairing: Sebastian Michaelis x Fem!Reader x Claude Faustus

Previous Chap: Page 1 , Page 2

III. No place to hide

Finally Monday came. You couldn't believe your enormous luck. You could go out again, you were finally free from that unusual prison.

Still dressed in heavy pajamas, you stood by the window and watched the raindrops attack the glass. It was a gloomy day, but that wouldn’t have affected your cheerful and carefree mood.

“Young lady, breakfast is ready.”

You turned to look at Claude in the doorway and found him with a confused look. You had become accustomed to their constant presence but certainly, not yet in their ways.

“Still have to change?” he murmured as he approached your wardrobe. “I would have assumed that you were ready to set foot out of here even earlier than necessary.”

He pulled out a dark green skirt and one of the shirts you had attached to the crutches and laid them on the bed.

Then, as you watched him distractedly, you noticed that he was approaching the underwear drawer and blushed with a deep red tomato.

Sure you wouldn't reach him in time, you took the brush on the windowsill and pulled it against him.

The object circled for a few moments in the air but the demon, warning it to arrive, moved away at the last second and turned even more confused than when he entered.

“What the hell are you going to do, perverted demon!? Stay away from my clothes!”

“I assure you I have no interest-” he began but was interrupted by a flying radio alarm clock.

 “So, you two are demons.”

The two nodded synchronously.

“Demons who enter into contracts with humans.”

Again a nod.

“And that they owe me gratitude for taking them off the street.”

You ran a hand through your hair as a severe headache started beating again.

“I already told you, you don't need to be grateful to me for anything.” You ran your fingers over the sides of the temples, pushing and hoping that the pain would go away with that simple pressure. “You were attacking each other, I didn't save you from anything.”

What escaped you as you stared at the surface of the kitchen table was the significant look that the two demons had exchanged silently.

“In any case, there is still a significant intrusion.” The amber-eyed demon added.

“Then do something, anything, that will make you disappear immediately.” You asked, desperate to conclude those terrible negotiations.

The two looked at each other again before turning to you again.

“For that, we need a contract.”

You opened your mouth and eyes wide at the same time, looking at them as if they had just drunk each other's brains.

“I will never sell my soul to the devil!” you exclaimed, crossing your arms over your chest.

Sebastian chuckled. “Well, there must definitely be something you want from us.” He answered flirtatiously but after seeing your dark and pissed expression he decided to fly over. “Wealth, fame, power ... revenge ...”

The last word seemed to tread with nostalgia, confusing you more than necessary.

“Do you think I will sell my soul for such useless things? I had a perfect life before you two came in to destroy it. I'll probably end up analyzing for this...” you sighed tired. “I will never make a contract with you.”

Claude shrugged, as if it were a matter of little consequence. “Then I guess nobody will leave here very soon.”

 The path to work went smoothly like oil.

The subway was as crowded as ever. Men and women with their work bags and some crazy tourist who had ventured despite the day didn’t bode well.

You squeezed your briefcase against your stomach as you sat on a desk and looked around.

Nobody seemed to notice you for any reason and everyone seemed completely normal people, unaware of all the paranormal that surrounded them. For a moment, you prayed that time would flow back again to allow you to appreciate more that monotony that had invaded your days for years. The whole situation seemed so unreal.

But, to remind you that it was all real, was the strong feeling of being observed but soon, inside your office on the third floor, you would have been the most peaceful and safest person in the world.

You would have done your research, you would have investigated what could hurt them or some spell that could have sent them back to hell as quickly as possible.

When you got out of the vehicle, you continued on foot along the usual road and while passing in front of the alley of the days before, you cursed yourself for stopping.

The sliding doors of the bank continued to open and close as customers and associates entered and left the building.

When you approached them the sweet PUFF that emanated almost made you want to cry.

The lobby was huge, allowing people to wait and operate with serenity, privacy and comfort.

When you approached a counter, very close to the stairs area, a man with auburn hair and a sweet smile looked at you curiously.

“Good morning, Henry.” You anticipated, raising a hand in case he hadn't heard you from the operation he was carrying out with a customer.

“Good morning, (Y / N). You finally recovered.” He replied back, returning to give immediate attention to the person over the counter.

You nodded, albeit with a little hesitation, and you quickly advanced to the lift that would take you straight to your safe place.

You pressed the button and said goodbye to the two colleagues on the upper floor who were waiting for the transport with you.

Your bank had more than 50 floors so it was unlikely that you would get to know even half of those who worked there.

Moreover, relations with those on the lower or upper floors were seldom due to lack of time. And each floor was assigned a job.

Once you reached your floor, you found it packed with people, as usual. Your area made itself available to the customer so the relationship was in close contact with other people.

When you passed the office of your best colleague, you smiled.

“Good morning, Isy. How have these days gone without me?” you asked as you appeared just beyond the door.

The young woman seemed to light up at the sight of your figure and stretched out her small hands.

“(Y / N)! You left me alone to feed these vultures!” she moaned as you advanced and grabbed her hands in yours as if to share the sense of unease with her.

You smiled.

“Forgive me and thank you for replacing me.” You reached over the desk and put a hand on her shoulder. “Whatever you need, don't hesitate to ask.”

She nodded, convinced of your honesty and fairness and watched you leave her room to move towards yours.

When you stood in front of it and inserted the keys inside the classic glass door that recited your name and your job, a ringing voice reached you.

“Miss (S/N), good morning. How are you today?”

You warned the bank manager to join you as you untangled yourself with the lock without then looking up at her.

“Oh, beautifully, director. I think nothing can ruin this day.”

Finally the door opened and with a wide smile you entered, still turning your back on the woman and quickly advancing towards your desk.

“Well, that's a good thing. So our new intern will have the pleasure of getting to know your quiet side.” The woman chuckled.

You sat on the leather chair with a sigh of pleasure and finally your gaze turned in the direction of your superior.

Your fingers instinctively tightened on the two armrests as your head began to fill with steam, which you were sure would come out of your ears at one moment or another.

“I'm Sebastian Michaelis, the new intern. It will be a real pleasure to assist you.”

And he stretched his right hand over the desk as a purple flash shone in the depths of his red eyes.

The director was watching you morbidly, as if expecting the same friendliness and, although shocked, you let common sense guide you to shake the hand of the devil who had followed you to work.

“V-Very pleasure, Mr. Michaelis. Yes, I'm sure it will be an excellent experience.” And you tried to hold it with all the force that your human body was able to pull out. But he only smiled in response.

“Well. Sebastian ... I can call you Sebastian, can't I?” the director corrected immediately, touching the man's arm with an unnatural flirtatious air that you would never have expected from her.

“But of course, it's a privilege for me.” He replied making the bile rise in your throat. Had that bastard really used that kind of skills to get in there?

“(Y / N) will help you with all the paperwork and then you will depend a little on her decisions.” And the hand wandered on the demon's back in a clear caress. “And mine, of course.”

After another couple of exchanges, the manager convinced herself to leave your office and you followed her to close the door and quickly turn to the demon.

“Are you serious?” you hissed, to prevent anyone in the other rooms from hearing.

The apparent man ran a hand through his hair, pulling a lock in front of his eyes. At that moment he was wearing a classic suit with a jacket and tie and you tried not to think about how good he could be in those clothes.

“Well, you didn't really think I'd leave you unprotected, miss” The devil replied, with the most innocent air he managed to gather.

You clenched your skirt in a fist that could have penetrated even the flesh of your palms with tension.

“Protection? This is control. You also want to check me out of the house!”

You felt your breathing reach the limit as you entered hyperventilation. You couldn't believe it, you didn't have room. They were quickly closing you in a box.

You brought a hand to your throat, trying to recover the air that you hadn’t been able to collect to oxygenate your brain and think of a solution.

“Miss, are you all right?”

When his cadaveric hand reached your face panic gripped your mind and, before I realized it, a strong backhand hit the demon's cheek, taking him by surprise and causing him to withdraw his hand.

“Don’t touch me!”

Your voice rose a couple of octaves but you quickly regained control, looking around to notice that no one had seen or listened to your outburst.

You didn't know what was wrong with you but seeing that flash of freedom being ripped off made you uncontrollable for a couple of minutes.

“Why? Why are you doing this to me? I just helped you...” you couldn't understand that surreal situation. It wasn’t possible that your perfect life had been ruined by a single good gesture from you.

It wasn't fair, was it?

“You can't understand, miss.” Sebastian replied, still pushing one hand towards your shoulder and squeezing it slightly as if to comfort you.

Being close to the window, the demon's red eyes lit up as soon as he saw that unmistakable red helmet and black motorcycle suit under the building.

The figure seemed to be answering something on cell phone and after a last look around it resumed its journey, making the vehicle roar.