#so the least i could do for you guys is a highly custom offering!

[forthevillains]

I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ANSWERED OMG— okokok THANKS, and sorry but if it's confusing, it's because English is not my first language.

I was thinking about Albert Wesker with Fem!Reader being a poor woman; from a negligent family, with a disastrous job and in general, a miserable life. He takes the same simple interest in her as he did in the later mother of his child (if we're talking about the canonical story of the game), but what if Fem!Reader rejects him? How would Albert react to a woman saying 'no' to him after he offers her financial security, sex and money?

I have a little theory that he would have sexist ideas about women like Fem!Reader, who aren't looking for something better for themselves—but the truth is that his ego was bruised, and eventually he is drawn to her even more strongly. Such is the intensity of his longing for this woman that Albert questions whether it would be right to continue, considering that he gets bored of people quickly.

In a nutshell? I'm thirsty for a pathetic and perverse Wesker, desperate to conquer and possess a woman who isn't the least bit interested in him. He would become more and more insistent, bordering on insanity and obsession for her.

Sorry, I got hooked watching Wesker's edits and that's how I got hooked lmao😔

Ok no I love this idea too much. I apologize beforehand if it feels a little rushed, but I hope you’ll still enjoy!

You were nothing but a disappointment to all of your surroundings. Since you were a child, you were abused, mostly mentally by both of your parents. You were unwanted, someone who wasn’t supposed to be alive at all. Growing up poor, with no friends or family to support you made you depend on no one but yourself and as the time went on, you ran away from your abusive parents to begin your own life with high hopes of money, partner and success. Your mind was filled with visions that were not only unreal for someone like you, but also difficult to achieve for a regular person.

It was no surprise you ended up on the streets, thrown out of the school where you purposely failed every single subject only to not see your terrible classmates ever again. It was a terrible sight, truly, even for passersby, but no one as much as stood up for you or gave you any sort of financial support. That was until another young woman acknowledged the only thing that you had - beauty. And so you ended up being a prostitute at just 16 years old.

You felt pathetic, especially the first few years in your newfound job that did you no good. It was a traumatic experience to say the least and you could barely afford the rent by yourself. You had to live with a few other girls to keep on surviving like that. No matter how hard you tried, how beautiful you looked, there was no one else to buy you except for the creeps and drug dealers that were desperate for a woman to warm their bed just for a night. You spent most of the time in other people’s places, in uncomfortable positions, hell once a guy even attempted to lock you in his basement.

You had to improve yourself, to learn how to stand up for yourself, to stay protected and with the help of the girls who were doing it for longer than you have - you managed it. You’ve become a confident woman, no matter how miserable you felt at times, no matter how disgusting a man that chose you was, you went with it. You became good at one thing finally, that being seducing men and stripping them off all their money.

It came to the point where you were able to choose your customers as more handsome men approached you, whether the age was appropriate, you cared not. What became important to you was their treatment. They had to respect you before and after the intercourse. That was your only requirement.

But little did you know as you were walking through the streets of the city, pretending to be someone you were not, you caught an eye of the devil himself. Not only were you too beautiful for a man’s eye to miss, but the way you acted, talked so highly as if you weren’t a literal whore to be sold… It made a certain man more than interested to find out just who the hell you are.

Wesker was curious about you, truly, yet he soon got to know the truth. He was quick to find out your true nature, that you’re just pretending. Something in him just wanted to test the waters around you, to just play with you a little.

He’s found his way to you, paying you for a night, for the entire night. You couldn’t say no to a man like him, so handsome, beautiful and yet mysterious. He caught your eye as well, just as he thought he would. Not only that, he proved to be more than just a good lover, bringing you pleasures you haven’t even dreamt of, especially when you were the one getting money for it. Wesker definitely made sure to shower you with attention that night, he did it purely for himself though, to satisfy his ego, to have you all over him the next day, to wrap you around his finger just like all the previous women in his life. It was nothing but a sport to him.

You’ve fallen asleep as the morning slowly approached and when you woke up, he was already dressed again, sitting on a chair he pulled beside the bed to watch you the entire time, observing, thinking… He’s grown to a conclusion that he could definitely get something more from you. He’d come up with an offer he was almost certain you couldn’t turn down.

"Good morning, dearheart,” his blue eyes bore into your sleepy ones when you opened them, the unexpected sound of his voice nearly making you jump. You blinked a few times, rubbing your eyes as you slowly sat up.

"Morning…” you mumbled and just tried to realize what really happened last night. It was tough after how much he exhausted you… It was unusual as barely any man you’ve been with managed to go for more than just two rounds. And that goes without even making you come at all. Wesker on the other hand… "You know you could’ve left, right?”

He gives you a small smile when you mention it. "I’m not that type of a guy.”

You chuckle at that. "You must be pretty rich then.” And then you get up, collecting all your clothes from the ground. Only when you go to pick up your bra that was laying by his feet, he catches you by the wrist, making you look at him.

"Aren’t you tired of doing this?” he questions.

"Doing what?” You answer with yet another question and forcefully rip your hand away from him, finally picking up the last piece of clothing.

"Selling yourself.”

You almost laugh out loud while you’re getting dressed, ignoring how his eyes keep slipping from your face to your body as it’s still not completely covered. "You haven’t paid me enough to answer personal questions.”

"Would you answer them if I offered you a better life, then?”

You raise an eyebrow in curiosity. "And that would be?”

He stands up finally, walking up to you, towering over you and only now do you realize how big he really is compared to you. Slightly scary even. He reaches out his hand to touch you, caressing one of your cheeks softly, then tracing your jaw only to grip your chin tightly when he reaches it. "You are quite a unique woman, I must admit. I’ve not laid my eyes upon a more beautiful one, to say the least. What would you say to an exchange of services, hm? You could easily earn a home, everything that you’d want or need and maybe if you’d be good enough, you’d earn a husband as well.”

Your eyes widen in shock. You just stare at him for a moment, trying to process what he’s just told you. And then it hits you. The urge to laugh, at him. So you do, pushing his hand away.

His expression changes to a confused one as you seem to make fun of him. And he doesn’t take it lightly.

"That’s definitely going to be a no,” you snort, not taking his offended look to heart.

"That wasn’t a joke.”

"I’m sorry, but you must be delusional to think I’d ruin my life further more for a man I barely know. You may be good looking, but that doesn’t make you special,” you finally calm down a little, but there’s still a smile tugging at your lips even though you try your best to suppress it.

"Ruin? I’m offering you help, you, a literal prostitute. What other opportunity do you think you’ll get?” He’s getting pretty pissed and it’s more than noticeable.

"I don’t need one. I’m rather going to continue selling my body than giving someone a soul to keep,” you finally get serious also. You turn on your heel, grabbing the money he left for you on the nightstand, planning to leave.

"You’re going to regret that! Enjoy your pitiful life as a hooker!” He shouts behind you, with no intention in stopping you. He’s shocked, pissed, even embarrassed slightly. How could you say no to him? How could you prefer a routine such as atrocious as yours over living with him? He didn’t get it. But he still let you go. For now.

Days passed, weeks even and you haven’t heard of him, to your surprise. Although he’s thought of you, repeating that dialogue in his head all over again every single day. He’s not special? Him? Do you really think you’re better than him? He couldn’t get it through his head. You weren’t better in anything, you were just a poor woman with no proper life or education. Wesker couldn’t get it off his mind, your rejection should’ve been a sign that he could move on with his life like nothing happened. He hasn’t spent that much on you anyway… But for some wicked reason, he couldn’t move on. A woman like you rejected him, how fucking embarrassing. He wouldn’t let this slide.

And he didn’t. Two months after that incident, you’d come back to your apartment on fire, getting to know all your friends that lived with you died inside and couldn’t be saved. That there was not a chance for them to make it out. You’ve lost your all. No one was able to tell how it happened, whether it was accident or not. Wesker took care of it. No one would know. He knew it’d break you even more, losing the little you had, knowing you’d cry so badly you’d lose yourself in the grief. You had nowhere to go, once again, no one to talk to… And he’d wait only a while till he’d be back with his offer, knowing you wouldn’t turn him down this time. The suspicion be damned, he didn’t care if you knew it was him. He wanted to stay true to his words and oh did you regret rejecting him the first time…

[atlastrust]

Review of cleanmymac x

#Review of cleanmymac x how to#

#Review of cleanmymac x mac os x#

#Review of cleanmymac x software#

There's also a virtual assistant that offers suggestions as you use your Mac on a day to day basis. You may just notice some settings are back to the default.Īdditionally, there is a malware scanner, network health checker, old app and files scanner, RAM optimization feature, secure trash cleaner and many more features to use. Feel free to experiment here - Nothing you do will break your Mac. You can sort through a long list of user and system files that all are safe to delete but you may want to keep many such as browser cookies for convenience. This is where some basic Mac and general computer knowledge comes to play. Thankfully CMMX allows the user to review all changes before executed. Since CMMX wipes nearly all temporary (and always recreated) files and cache, you could run into some annoyances having to log in to all your favorite websites again or set up some of the basic OS X preferences again. My only caveat with this one-button function is if you have highly customized OS X and/or are dependent on browser cookies and certain complex preferences. Most of the time the user can simply click " OK " and CMMX will do the rest, sounding a clear chime when complete.

#Review of cleanmymac x software#

There is a single button to click that will scan your entire Mac's software and report to you suggestions for what tasks to run. If you are ac beginner, CMMX is set up mostly well for you too.

#Review of cleanmymac x how to#

I often find I only need to run certain tasks at different times and I've learned how to generally diagnose poor performance on my Mac and therefore zero in on the few operations to run within CMMX.

#Review of cleanmymac x mac os x#

If you have at least an intermediate understanding of Mac OS X software, this level of control is very useful. This allows the user to choose which tasks to run and how specific each task is. Each section is clearly arranged by function. It has become a staple of my computer maintenance routine.ĬMMX is built around a great looking and easy to navigate GUI (Graphic User Interface). Summary: I have been using Clean My Mac X (CMMX) for over 10 years to fine tune and optimize the performance of my Apple Mac Laptops and Desktop Computers. The first completely removes unwanted apps, while the latter updates all your software instantly. To make your Mac life easier, you can get Uninstaller and Updater. It provides simple solutions, so there's no need to go through folders or read lengthy instructions. CleanMyMac X is easy to use and informative. It can take hours to fix problems on your Mac. CleanMyMac X's Mac cleaning tools will reduce the extra weight in just seconds. It can clean out tons of clutter in iTunes, Mail, Photos and locate gigabytes worth of hidden files. It also eliminates useless localizations. CleanMyMac X removes junk files such as outdated caches, broken downloads and logs. CleanMyMac X removes junk from all corners of your macOS. It can do anything you tell it to: a macOS cleaner and performance monitor, malware removal, and a lifesaver. CleanMyMac X replaces dozens optimization tools for Mac.

[erimeows]

Yellow Roses

The first time was a learning experience.

Bumblebee had been innocent to the ways of human gift-giving back then, unsure of what to get or where to get it, but after using the internet and looking up where to buy gifts for humans, he found that there was a gift shop down the street from where the Autobot base was, and he begged and pleaded with Sari for some of her allowance money “for something important”.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted to get. What he was sure of, though, was that he was completely enamored with you and had been since day one- and he couldn’t bring himself to confess yet, but if he didn’t channel his feelings somehow, they were going to burst.

But as he approached the gift shop on that sunny day in Detroit, no other than Optimus Prime walked out and bumped into him. Thankfully, before he could fall back at the impact, Optimus reached out and caught him, placing him back on his feet with one strong servo. 

“P-Prime, hey!” Bumblebee grinned and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. He knew he wasn’t guilty of anything nefarious, per say, but he had no idea how Optimus would feel about him being in love with a human and wanting to buy gifts for said human with money that wasn’t his. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, nothing much...” The other Autobot blatantly lied and hid a bouquet of blue and gold flowers that Bee didn’t know the name of behind his back, face burning the brightest shade of red the smaller bot had ever seen it. “Are you looking for something in particular?”

“I don’t know, I mean, what do humans even like?” Bumblebee muttered without thinking, and upon seeing Optimus’s optics widen, he raised his servos defensively and shook his head. “I mean, uh-! Never mind! What’s up with the flowers?”

“Ah,” Optimus gave an awkward grin and held the flowers in front of him instead of continuing to hide them, probably realizing that it was too late and Bumblebee had already seen them. The younger bot wondered if they were for Optimus or for someone else, but he didn’t dare ask, only listening to his leader talk. “I learned that unlike some other organic planets, on earth, it’s considered rude to pick plants if they’re in close proximity to someone’s home or in front of a public building or park unless they’re a specific type called weeds, which flowers aren’t, but I wanted to buy some for someone, so I came here to pick them up after asking Sari about it. Are you gift buying, too?”

“Well, yeah, I guess you could say that,” Bumblebee looked away and held his forearm in one servo, anxiously shifting his weight between his stabilizing servos. It felt like him and Optimus Prime had reached into the cookie jar and caught each other. 

Bumblebee didn’t dare ask who the flowers were for even though he was dying to know in fear that Optimus would ask who he was at the gift shop for in return. An uncomfortable silence fell onto them momentarily, both of them quiet and staring at each other with the noise of traffic and the bustling Detroit citizens walking on the pavement who kept passing by to keep them company.

“I’ve been doing some reading since Sari’s birthday is in a few months,” Optimus tried to continue the conversation and cleared his throat. “The customs for gift giving can involve about anything when it comes to human girls, but the most common are flowers, books, chocolates, jewelry, clothing, video games, or gifts of practicality, which just seem to be hygiene products and things they can use in their daily lives. Gift cards and vouchers with money on them are also common, but considered less personable, so I wouldn’t go that route if you’re close with the one you’re buying for unless they specifically ask for it.”

“Oh... I gotcha. Good ideas, bossbot!” Bumblebee smiled again, the corners of his lip-plates sore from how forced it was due to his nerves.

What if Optimus had figured it out? That would defeat the whole point of his plan; buy you nice things and leave them at your door in the middle of the night without his name attached. It was simple and easy, but if Optimus knew before he even got to try it?

Well. That made it a lot harder.

Thankfully, though, Optimus gave him a nod and bid him a good afternoon, then walked away.

Bumblebee found himself letting out a sigh of relief.

Thank Primus...

...Hours later, Bumblebee regretted all of his life decisions. He was sitting, holed up in his room with one audial pressed up against your wall. It was a terrible habit of his, but he eavesdropped on you pretty frequently when he heard bits and pieces of you talking through the wall, and he was doing it right now.

He wasn’t sure how he had expected it to go, but when he dropped the bouquet of yellow roses at your bedroom doorstep when you were out for lunch and no one was in the halls, he had hoped that you would simply take the flowers, appreciate them, and never say another word. However, you were currently telling Sari about it, which made sense considering that the young girl dropped by your room often and asked you to do her hair or makeup as an excuse to spend time with you- you were an adult, a lot older than Sari, but the two of you got along very well considering that you were the only one who actually knew how to take care of her properly when Isaac Sumdac wasn’t around.

“I have no idea!” You exclaimed, no doubt in reference to the flowers. Bumblebee cringed. What if Sari made the connection that the money he had borrowed from her was for that? What if she told everyone, or what if you told everyone, and Prime realized why he was at that gift shop and let his secret slip? “I can only assume it was you or one of the guys, but like... I don’t know who.”

“Yeah, I have no idea! It wasn’t me, I would’ve just given ‘em to you. We should dig deeper, (y/n)!”

Oh. Oh, Primus, no. 

“I’m not sure, Sari, whoever it was probably dropped it off like that for a reason,” Bumblebee heard you sigh, and at the same time, he let out a sigh of relief. Maybe you would just forget about it and-

“Wait! Do you have a secret admirer!?”

Dammit. Maybe not.

“I... Highly doubt that, the only one I’d be interested in anyways is-” You started, and then cut yourself off in a way that made Bumblebee’s spark shatter and crumble into little pieces inside his chassis. You were single, but you were already into someone? What if it wasn’t him? He’d understand, of course- Prime was stronger, Prowl was smooth, Bulkhead was talented, and Ratchet was intelligent. Compared to them, he felt like he didn’t have much to offer you. Everyone around him was amazing, and he was just there, but... He loved you, and he wanted you to know how loved you were. So, whether you’d love him back or not, he’d keep giving everything he had to you; even if the way in which he went about it was indirect. “Actually, never mind, but your braids are done-”

“No, wait, you can’t just gloss past that!” Sari whined. Bee almost didn’t want to hear the rest of your discussion, but he couldn’t keep himself from listening. “Who is it, who is it!?

“Let’s just go play Animal Crossing in the living room, we can talk about all of that at a later date, yeah?” You offered, voice laced with both your amusement and confusion. 

“Fine, fine, but you have to tell me soon! Pinky promise.”

“Fine, pinky promise. Now let’s go.”

Bumblebee heard your door open and close, followed by what he presumed to be you and Sari’s footsteps in the hallway. The sound eventually dissipated.

The Autobot was left to lay back on his berth and stare at the ceiling with a huff.

You were telling others about the gift he left, trying to get to the bottom of it, and you were into someone or somebot he didn’t even know about.

What had he gotten himself into?

-

The second time, he felt a little better about it. It was a week later and he hadn’t heard any discussion of the subject amongst the other Autobots, so he assumed nothing had come from it.

But, as he lounged on the living room couch, he jumped upon you sitting down on the couch’s arm- right by where his head was laid.

It made sense that he had been jumpier around you over the past few days. Part of it was the usual I’m-in-love-with-you-and-super-tense-about-it jumpiness that he had become accustomed to, but it was made worse by the fact that he was guilty; guilty of keeping a secret from you, of indirectly lying to you. He could’ve done it the one time with the roses and let it die down after, but when you’d talked about your old game controller breaking the night before at the dinner table, he hadn’t been able to help himself- he went and got it along with a new bouquet of yellow roses, left it in front of your room later that night, knocked, and ran away.

It was the next day, and understandably, he’d been anxious about it. It was better than the first time, but he was just hoping you wouldn’t talk about it.

Of course, he was never that lucky, and you looked at him with the controller literally in your hands. 

“Hey, Bee, do you know anything about this?” You asked.

Had he been caught? Did you know? Or were you just trying to get information from him in case he knew something? Unsure, he decided to play it safe and act oblivious. 

“Huh? What’s that?”

“I’m taking that as a no, but someone left this new controller on my doorstep with a bouquet of roses? I needed a new one, but I only mentioned it to you and the others, so I think it’s one of you guys... But this is the second time I’ve received a gift without any name on it and I’m really confused. I’ve done some asking around, but the only one who seems to know anything is Optimus, and he won’t give me any hints and insists that he has no idea what I’m talking about.”

Great. So, Optimus probably realized why Bumblebee had been at the gift shop last week. Well... From what you said, it sounded like Optimus was at least decent enough to stay out of his business and keep the secret for him- or try to, at least. 

“Yeah? That’s weird, I don’t really know why he’d be like that about it... Wanna play Streetfighter?”

“Sure, but I’m just super confused, man,” You muttered, turning on the playstation and giving a frustrated huff. The game quickly turned on, and while Bee took the old controller, you connected your brand new one and chose your stage, your character being Akuma. Bee chose Ken to fight with and listened to you continue as the game started. “I thought the first time might’ve just been a one-off thing, but it’s happened again, and the flowers were one thing, but now it’s flowers and a new controller. Anyone else would be creeped out, and I’m not creeped out- more flattered than anything since I know it’s from you or one of the other Autobots- but this is really expensive... I’d at least like to be able to say thank you!”

“That makes sense, I think I’d feel the same way,” The black and yellow bot mumbled. The game had hardly started and he was already losing due to his inability to focus- it was so bad that he couldn’t even combat you when you crowded his character into the corner and kicked him over and over and over again. His health bar dropped to zero, signaling that you’d won round one.

Round two started, and he did a little better; actually jumping away from your cornering attempts and offering some blasts and punches, but by the time it ended, he’d only gotten you down to half health, and you were delivering your final blow. Ken fell to the ground, Akuma still standing. 

You didn’t even press replay despite being player one. No, instead, you let out a huff and stared at the ceiling. Bumblebee found himself resting his helm against your thigh without thinking, enjoying the warmth against his faceplates. You two were best friends, very comfortable with each other and with physical affection, so you didn’t mind it, only running a gentle hand over one of his audials in return. 

Both of you set your controllers down. It was obvious that both of you were so focused on the subject of your anonymous gifts that the game didn’t catch either of your interests like it usually would. 

“I might try to ask Optimus about it again tomorrow... Information extraction,” You joked, but Bumblebee quickly sat up and objected. 

“Wait, I don’t think that’s such a good idea!”

“Huh? Why not? He’s the only one who’s given me so much as a reaction,” You argued and stood up to turn the game system off, then started pacing around the room. “And I guess his eyes getting all wide ‘n stuff may have just been something else, but like... It’s all I’ve got to go on.”

“Yeah, but you know how the bossbot is,” Bee stood as well, trying his hardest not to look like he was in the midst of blowing a circuit from the panic that was currently taking over his processor. “He shuts down when you push him too hard. If he knows anything about it, you gotta wait for him to come to you with that sweet info.”

“You’re probably right, Bee, thanks for the advice,” You smiled, and then walked to him to put a hand on his shoulder plate. “I’m gonna go to bed, ‘kay? Goodnight.”

You looked into his optics, and oh Primus, he was gone; your eyes were such a beautiful shade of (e/c), and your smile was so beautiful, and you were so beautiful, and he was so in love-

Quickly, he realized that he was taking too long to respond, so he quickly stammered something out.

“G-Goodnight...” 

And then, you left, swiftly turning and walking out of the living room.

Bumblebee found himself letting out a sigh of relief, but at the same time, he missed you desperately.

He wished he’d given you a hug goodnight.

And, as he stood alone in the dark living room, he thought back to how exactly he’d ended up in his current predicament; painfully in love with a human, giving them things without having the courage to do it face-to-face, life feeling like it was falling apart with every hour that passed without him being able to kiss you and tell you how much he loved you like he so desperately wanted to. 

He’d loved you from the very start, and as bold as he was, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you- he was just too scared, but...

What if this was what finally gave it away...?

-

The third time was what ended up blowing his cover. He should’ve left it alone, and he had told himself that after the last time- it was far too close of a call when you talked about Optimus knowing something, and he was so obvious with his own emotions during that, too... He wouldn’t do it again.

But then, he was shopping with Sari that day and saw a (f/c) hoodie that was just your size and style, and he decided you had to had it. So, when Sari was distracted at a different store, he got the hoodie, along with a new notebook, some pens, and a stuffed bee. He bought the gifts for you and put them in a nice gift bag with some paper, then left them by your door and disappeared before anyone could see him. 

He was sitting in the living room yet again. It was late at night, and though him and his team had spent most of that night playing board games and catching up with a movie playing in the background, they’d all went to bed hours ago, leaving him to think by himself.

He’d lost at every game; Uno, Monopoly, Candyland, Sorry, Cards Against Humanity, and Scrabble, all because he was staring at you the entire time. 

Why couldn’t he just get over himself and confess already? It was selfish to keep hiding from you, because what if the one you’d mentioned being interested in was actually him? And even if it wasn’t him, was it fair for you to think that he saw you as a friend when he was secretly in love with you? Was it fair for you to keep receiving gifts and never knowing who they were from? 

Speak of the devil, though- the second Bumblebee looked up from where he was standing in the middle of the room, you were leaning against the doorway, wearing the hoodie he’d bought you and a pair of pajama shorts. You looked sleepy with your (h/l) (h/c) hair a mess and your soft hands rubbing the bleariness out of your (e/c) eyes. 

“Bee?” You mumbled.

“(y/n), where’d you just come from? You look tired! You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m tired, but I’m fine. I was in the hallway, kinda waiting for everyone else to go to bed so I could talk to you, but... It took me a minute to come in here.” Bumblebee walked towards you and raised his optical ridge. His spark sank to the floor because oh Primus, was this it? Was it finally happening?

“Oh, uh... Why do you need to talk to me alone? What’s up?”

You averted your gaze and gently grabbed one of his servos with your hand, holding it tightly. Bumblebee took a sharp intake. You were about to start talking, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for it. 

“I know it’s you,” You confessed with a guilty smile. Bumblebee froze in place and cringed. “I feel bad, but my curiosity was killing me, so I asked around some more and did a lot of prying- Optimus seemed like he was hiding something when I talked to him about it, so I pried until he gave up and told me that he suspected it was you; that he’d seen you at a gift shop the day I got the first bouquet, that he’d seen you lingering in the hallways the past few times I’ve gotten something, etcetera. He gave me enough details that I pieced it together, so... Yeah.”

“Well, at least it’s out of the way,” Bumblebee laughed out loud, and surprisingly, you smiled back at him. This wasn’t how he wanted it to come out, but he wasn’t sure it would have come out at all if not for this. “Getting human money without a real job is hard! Glad I could at least confess without having to do it so much that I went bankrupt.”

“Bee...” You started again, peering up at him, but he felt like he wasn’t ready for what was going to happen next. Were you about to reject him? He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. 

“Well, now that that’s done, I’m gonna go ahead and go to bed! I could use a really good recharge right about now-”

“Bee-” You cut him off with a pout and gripped his servo, obviously not done, but he only continued in hopes that you would give it up and let him escape the situation. 

“Goodnight, (y/n)-”

“Bee!” You yelled and pulled him towards you by his wrist so you could get in his face. “For God’s sake, man, stop and listen to me talk for a second!”

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry! I just-” He tossed his hands up defensively, ready to spill his circuits out, only for you to cut him off.

“You don’t think I love you back, right? You’re such a dolt!” You exclaimed. 

“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Bumblebee yelled back at you, processor only catching the insult before he thought back on ‘I love you back’ and froze. “...Oh. Sorry.”

“I mean I’ve loved you for months now! Even before I realized it, I think I would’ve been more than open to dating you at any point in time, I mean... You’re pretty great. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Well, uh-” Bumblebee stopped and took in a deep intake, then sighed and linked your fingers with his digits so he could hold your hand properly. The anxiety that had been building up over you for so long now was finally leaving his body and being replaced by relief.“I don’t know. I feel kinda stupid now.”

“C’mere,” You mumbled and wrapped an arm around him. He hugged you back, taking you into his arms and resting his chin on top of your head... He could get used to that. You were warm and soft as you relaxed your body against his and allowed yourself to be held. You let go of his servo in favor of curling your hands and arms up by his chest. “Thank you for the gifts. They were really sweet and I loved them all, so... I’ll be sure to return the favor.”

“Return the favor? This is more than enough to return the favor!” He grinned, only hugging you tighter. “I’ve always wanted to just, like, hug you like this-”

“You can kiss me, too, if you want,” You offered, which had him pulling back to look down at you, spark lit aflame. 

“Really?” Bumblebee asked, just to be sure.

“Of course.”

There was a moment of silence; hesitance from both ends. It was true that, while both of you had been physically affectionate as friends, you’d never kissed, and Bumblebee had certainly never kissed a human. He’d been waiting for this moment for so long, but he had no idea what to do now that it was actually happening. 

Thankfully, you took the initiative and wrapped your arms over his shoulders, hands on the back of his neck. You looked up at him one more time before standing on your tip-toes so you could gently press your lips against his. Bumblebee was frozen still for a moment as he processed your warm, soft lips against his cool metal plating, but after the tension faded, he found himself resting his servos on your hips and melted into it. 

One kiss turned into many; again, again, and again, you moved your lips against his in a manner so intoxicating that he couldn’t get enough of it.

Eventually, though, you pulled away and smiled up at him, but now that he had gotten to kiss you like that, he couldn’t help but want more. 

“I, uh... I’m not sure the favor has been returned yet,” Bumblebee averted his optics from your eyes, able to feel his spark beating faster. “I might need one more kiss just to be sure-”

You chuckled, cutting him off by leaning up again and sloppily pushing your lips against his- and, with that, he was gone.

[milenadaniels]

Before the Night Fades, 8.6k - POV Outsider on Buck/Eddie double date shenanigans (AO3)

“I have a bottle of champagne, four champagne flutes, one engagement ring to go into one of those champagne flutes, and a note to deliver it all to table 34 with dessert,” Tomas explains, wide-eyed, throwing his hand back to the prep station where said champagne is waiting on ice next to four flutes and a small ring box.

“Okay?”

“Okay so there’s two men and two women and I have no idea who’s getting proposed to. I’m not even 100% on who came with who."

---

Or, EddieAna and BuckTaylor double date and it ruins everyone's night.

The nearly-post-COVID return to normal rush is going exactly as well as management at the Tilted Cactus expected it would, which is to say it’s going as miserably as the waitstaff at the Tilted Cactus expected it would.

The owners lost a lot of money to lockdowns, diminished capacity and the general (extremely warranted) paranoia of co-mingling in public during an international plague for the sake of overpriced appetizers. And despite accurately predicting the business would boom once the doors re-opened, management didn’t feel the need to account for more staff to serve said business.

So despite owing $34k on her student loans (that’s after a generous gift from both her parents and her maternal grandmother), barely being able to afford rent in LA, and the utter lack of career prospects, Mere is taking a break in the backroom, next to the dirty mop bucket, mentally running through her finances before she officially gives her notice.

She can’t quit, she knows that.

Turns out leaving New Zealand for LA with nothing but a dream and the idea that if Taika could do it so could she was not the most future-proof plan she could have come up with. The starving artist thing was so 2010.

But Mere’s made up her mind. She’s not made for this abuse. This is bullshit. She’s going to pack up, go home, and you know, do...something else. She’ll figure it out.

Mere pulls herself up from her indelicate crouch on some empty crates and goes in search of a piece of paper — or a fucking napkin, who cares — on which to write up her official resignation.

“No, in section 3A,” she hears Tomas fake-whisper. He’s one of the few new hires to grace these hallowed halls and still thinks it’s disrespectful to talk shit about customers even in the backroom. Umida, a five year veteran of this distinguished profession, has been trying to disabuse him of this particular nonsense.

“Where the fuck is section 3A, Tommy? We have sections 1 to 9, we don’t have any letters.”

“The new sidewalk sections have letters, to distinguish them from inside.”

“You mean sections 10 and 11?”

“...Mr. Peters said they’re using letters.”

“Mr. Peters can swallow my entire ass. The sidewalk sections are literally right outside the door from 9, why would they not be called 10 and 11?”

“Or ‘Hell On Earth’ and ‘Kill Me Please’, as we call them colloquially,” Mere offers, startling Tomas as she pushes through the swinging door she’d been hiding behind. Patio dining is highly encouraged and an excellent way to dine if one has patios. The Tilted Cactus does not have patios. It has a temporary license to put tables on the dirty sidewalk outside their restaurant, where waitstaff get to weave around pedestrians, dogs, and carts like they’re completing an obstacle course.

“Yeah, those work,” Umida agrees, emphasizing her point with a dispirited index finger in Mere’s direction.

“Okay, whatever,” Tomas says with a pained eye roll. “Can you please just check it out and let me know?”

“What’s happening?” Mere asks. She’s leaving this popsicle stand (ideally, on fire as she walks away slowly into the night) but she’s also starved of both human attention and the inherent drama of the culinary world so she’ll be damned if she misses out on one final showdown.

Tomas takes a breath to steel himself. “I have a bottle of champagne, four champagne flutes, one engagement ring to go into one of those champagne flutes, and a note to deliver it all to table 34 with dessert,” Tomas explains, wide-eyed, throwing his hand back to the prep station where said champagne is waiting on ice next to four flutes and a small ring box.

“Okay?”

“Okay so there’s two men and two women and I have no idea who’s getting proposed to. I’m not even 100% on who came with who.”

“You don’t have gaydar where you come from?” Umida asks in perfect deadpan.

Tomas glares harder, crosses his arms and juts one hip out. “I come from San Francisco. We invented gaydar. I’m saying I’m pretty sure the guys are together, but I’m also pretty sure they’re each with the women they’re sitting next to. So figure that out.”

“Like a double thruple?” Mere asks, now actually becoming curious.

“Like a ‘I don’t know what y’all are smoking this far north but I don’t understand your weird relationship dynamics and I’m still on probation and I can’t lose this job because I can’t move back in with my brother because I will murder him and I can’t be an only child with aging parents in this economy so can you please just go out there and tell me what the fuck is happening so I can throw this ring at the right person and punch out sometime before I ‘accidentally’ fall on the meat clever downstairs?’ kind of situation.”

Umida and Mere share a glance.

“Okay, well, don’t despair, new guy,” Mere says with a pat on his arm. “Save the meat cleaving for the capitalist elite. We got you. Let the pros handle this.”

“What did the note say?” Umida asks. “One ‘e’ or two? We can at least eliminate half of our options.”

Tomas does not check the note to spot whether the note-taker had written ‘fiancé’ or ‘fiancée’. He stares them down and fips the note in his fingers so the text faces them.

“It says ‘finance’.”

“Ah.”

“We’re going to need a more hands-on investigation, then,” Mere announces.

—————————-

Mere goes first, only because Umida was on her way to swap a side dressing for her table when Tomas intercepted her.

Mere carries a jug of water and makes the rounds of the outdoor tables, trying to hold in her visible distaste for the pseudo-patio vibe the owners tried to make happen out here. There’s a bike stand and a taxi stand two feet from where people are trying to have a romantic dinner. Every now and again, the LA traffic gets rowdy and noisy, completely butchering the atmosphere. There’s a shitty speaker funneling in some Frank Sinatra but it really does nothing to help.

But after this mystery is solved, none of this will be her problem anymore.

Like Tomas said, there are two men and two women sitting like cardinal points around a round table. The women are on the north and east ends, the men on the south and west ones. Two of them are brunets, one a redhead, and one a blond. They’re all disgustingly gorgeous.

And that’s all she’s got.

“The ravioli sounds so good,” the brunette woman says, casting a look at the brunet man to her side.

“Yeah, it does,” he says.

“Mm,” the blond man disagrees. “It’s got feta.”

“What’s wrong with feta?” Asks the redheaded woman.

“Absolutely nothing is wrong with feta,” he responds with a superior smile directed at the man next to him who’s preemptively adopting the look of someone ready to hear some bullshit. “Unless you have an underdeveloped palate and are simply overwhelmed by such strong delicacies as a moderately salty cheese.”

“Okay, don’t talk to me about an underdeveloped palate, Pennsylvania,” the other man responds, posturing despite the softness of his eyes.

“Hey, I said nothing to besmirch the great state of Texas. Texas is a wonder of culinary delight. I’m saying you’re...a simple man.”

“Feta’s disgusting and that’s a hill I’m willing to die on,” the brunet says with smug finality, holding the other man’s eyes until they’re both smirking and looking back at their menus.

Well then.

Mere’s a little bummed as she fills the water at table 36. She’d been hoping the mystery would run longer than 2 whole minutes, but these guys are definitely together. So the mystery will only come down to who’s getting eng—

“Thankfully Chris inherited a more refined palate,” the blond man — Pennsylvania — chirps as the last word.

“He did,” the brunette woman chimes in with a playful smile. “He loves my cooking. You both loved that greek salad I made last week, didn’t you? That had feta in it.”

“It did!” the brunet man replies, slipping his hand overtop hers. “And I loved it. So clearly context is a factor.”

Mere almost spills the rest of the water all over the lady at table 38 as she takes in the man and woman mooning at each other. Though if it’s any consolation, the redheaded woman looks as unimpressed as Mere feels.

“Yeah, I have no idea,” Mere reports back to Tomas.

“The redheads are playing footsie under the table now. That’s one couple at least right?” Tomas asks. The two of them are parked behind the bar where they can see through the window outside but the exterior tint prevents anyone outside from seeing them. The bar is still used for pouring drinks but the stools are gone — can’t maintain 6 feet between them — so the staff pretty much have the run of this corner of the restaurant.

“He’s not a redhead,” Mere mutters, looking out the window to catch the action. “It’s like a dark blond. And I don’t know, I’m pretty sure the two brunets are together, but then blond guy’s foot is way into the other guy’s space.” For a moment she’s distracted by just how damn long his legs are. “That’s certainly...familiar.”

“They’re lesbians,” Umida declares when she returns from dropping off plates at table 32.

“They’re lesbians?” Tomas parrots skeptically. “I did not get that vibe.”

“I could see lesbian for the redhead, I think,” Mere says. “Don’t know about the brunette.”

“Lesbians come in all flavours,” Umida informs them haughtily. It’s the start of Pride month and her hijab is held together by an “Ally” pin. “You can’t tell someone’s orientation just by looking at them.”

“But you’ve declared them lesbians,” Mere points out.

“Because lesbians are approaching their table and only lesbians know other lesbians.”

“That’s definitely not true,” Tomas reproaches.

“No, she’s right, lesbians coming up!” Mere watches as two more unfairly gorgeous women approach with two young boys in tow. Honestly, screw LA and their beauty standards. The parties look surprised to see each other, but they clearly know each other well. One of the boys stays with the women, but the other one breaks off to join the table.

“No, I mean you can know lesbians without being a lesbian.”

Umida and Mere ignore him.

“Okay, that’s one of their kids, right?” Umida asks. “Lesbians babysitting for date night?”

“He’s got Pennsylvania’s curls,” Mere agrees. "That's the blond guy, by the way, I think he’s from there. Brunet guy is Texas for the time being."

The boy reaches the table and is pulled into a strong hug by Texas, who then directs him to a hug with the brunette.

“Oh, unexpected.” Mere would have sworn he was a dead ringer for Pennsylvania. “But okay, that confirms the hand-holding I saw. We have a set of parents. And unless this is a super modern table, I don’t see the parents being here on dates with other people.”

“Mm, I don’t know.” Umida dithers. “That’s like an auntie hug, not a parent hug. Like if she is the mom, the kid is not happy with her.”

“Wait,” Tomas says.

The boy is wiggling out of Brunette’s grasp and rounding the table to Pennsylvania who’s waiting with a wide smile and open arms, and instead of letting go after, the boy finagles his way onto Pennsylvania’s lap to steal a breadstick. Pennsylvania reaches into the basket for another breadstick to pass to the little boy still waiting with his moms and Mere’s heart tugs a little.

Texas watches on from across the table with unrestrained fondness. His leg shifts to press against Pennsylvania’s who looks up with a smile.

“Boom, gay dads!” Tomas crows.

“And lesbians,” Umida adds.

“Redhead definitely has no part of this,” Mere notes. The woman is smiling but it’s polite and practised, not warm or welcoming. “I guess the brunets could be siblings maybe? Really close siblings?”

Finally, the babysitters make to leave so Pennsylvania kisses the boy’s temple and guides him back to his feet. Texas presses his own kiss to the boy’s curls as he passes, saying something they can’t make out from behind the glass. Brunette gets only a wave as he leaves.

“Gays and lesbians,” Umida concludes smugly.

“Okay, good,” Tomas sighs with relief. “So we know who the couples are, now who’s gettin—”

“Um,” Mere interrupts, pointing at the table.

Redhead’s foot is making its way up Pennsylvania’s leg and he shoots her a grin.

“For fuck’s sake,” Tomas spits as he walks away.

“Did you even take their order yet?” Mere calls after him. He doesn’t answer.

———-

Mere gets pulled away because now that she’s not quitting in outrage until this table 34 drama is over, she figures she should actually get back to work. Happily, having not seen her for the last 20 minutes, Mikael figured she had left or died and had taken over her section. She agrees to split half the tips with him and lets herself be pulled back into the tide of madness.

“Got it figured yet, Tim-Tam?” she asks when she passes him near the bathrooms.

“The guys are sharing their orders,” he says despondently.

“That’s not that incriminating. I split my orders with people. I’m not about to pay full price to discover if I like something.”

“No,” Tomas glares before gesturing to the window with disgust. “They’re sharing their orders.”

Tomas stalks away to hopefully take an herbal break to calm down and Mere goes back to the window just in time to catch the insanity. Mere feels Umida come up behind her and tries to suppress her shiver when her “what in all that is holy” skates across her bare shoulder.

Pennsylvania has just finished piling some of his spaghetti on Texas’ plate, which is exceedingly normal. But now Pennsylvania is reaching for Texas' burger.

“He didn’t cut that,” Umida notes.

“No, he did not.”

They have pretty messy burgers at Tilted Cactus, ones that are hard to share because if you cut them down the middle they tend to lose structural integrity. Of course, this isn’t a big concern if you’re sharing already-bitten-into burgers. Which these absolute freaks are doing.

“Gays and lesbians,” Umida declares again, the earlier smugness replaced with an air of disgust.

But when Umida walks away, Mere watches Brunette wipe something off Texas’ cheek and frowns. One throuple and redheaded side piece? Maybe?

————

“I’m struggling with lesbians as a theory,” Mere tells Umida the next chance she gets at the pickup counter. “I want to believe, but…”

“Yeah, I’m doubting now too. They’re almost exclusively talking to each other. But then I realized it was more getting-to-know-you conversation and this would be a hell of a weird first date.”

“Huh, so heteros all around?”

“Well, I also caught on that they’re spending all this time talking to each other because the guys are like in their own world. Finishing each others’ —”

“Sandwiches?”

“Exactly,” Umida grins, unexpectedly delighted by the reference. “So I don’t know. I really don’t envy Tommy.”

“Me either.”

“Hey Manish,” Umida yells out to the other side of the pickup window, “I’m picking up for Lenore but she’s got a two-seater, why do I have four dishes here?”

“Because Lenore can’t write for shit,” Mere says, picking up the order slip and squinting at the scrawl. “These are for table 24, not 29. It’s a four-seater.”

“Alright, well I guess you’re helping me, then,” Umida says with a wink.

Umida is fully capable of carrying four dishes on her own but she’s asking Mere to come with her so Mere’s already reaching for the plates, hoping the blush on her cheek can be written off as heat from the kitchen.

————-

During a slow stretch, Mere takes it upon herself to refill water and wine glasses in section 10.

From table 32 she can hear them talking about elementary school workloads.

“Oh, ah, I meant to let you know,” Pennsylvania says to Redhead, sitting up in his seat. “I can’t make it to the movies next Friday, can we move it to the next week? I should know my schedule by Wednesday.”

“Sure,” Redhead says with a hint of bite to her pleasant smile. “But I thought you had Friday off.”

“I do,” Pennsylvania says, his lips curving into a small, excited smile, “but Christopher won his class’ public speaking competition and they’re doing a kind of show of all the winners for the parents, and it’s on Friday.”

Mere moves around table 34 and heads for table 36 next, but catches the looks of discomfort on every face aside from Pennsylvania’s. He doesn’t realize he’s said something wrong, but the rest of them have.

“Isn’t that just during school hours?” Brunette woman asks.

Texas hesitates before saying, “yeah, but we’re taking him to Universal after to celebrate.”

Out of pity, Mere doubles back to table 34 and reaches for his water glass to fill. People tend to keep their drama buckled while the waitstaff is there. And sure enough, Redhead glances up and paints a tense smile on her face.

“Yeah, not a problem. That sounds exciting.”

There’s a bite to her words, and by the way his shoulders tense and his fingers curl more tightly around his fork, Texas seems to have picked up on it.

————-

By the end of the entrees, most of the staff have caught onto Tomas’ predicament and one by one everyone from the table-bussers to the cooks have gone out for a smokeless smoke break to try to be the one to divine what the hell is happening at table 34.

None are successful.

“This isn’t even like a romantic date,” Mani laments. “Like none of them are that dressed up and they’re talking about like natural disasters and shit. I don’t get a proposal vibe from like any of them.”

“Who even goes on a double date to propose? Who does that? It’s so tacky!” Gabby says from behind the bar where she’s helping herself to a quick nip before she heads home.

“Who still thinks the ring in the champagne bit is a good idea, is my question. It’s a choking hazard!” Mere says. “How romantic to start off your engagement with a trip to the ER.”

Tomas ignores them all. He looks about 10 minutes away from saying to hell with his probationary status and drinking the next hour away straight out of the vodka bottle at his elbow. “I know it’s Pride and I should be representing but I could really do with a little heteronormativity right now.”

—————-

Tomas is stalling.

Table 34 asked for dessert, of course, and when he vaguely floated the idea of champagne, Texas had readily agreed, so this is happening. The champagne flutes are lined up on a tray, the champagne in them is warming with every minute that passes, and he is no closer to figuring out what to do.

“What if I put all the glasses in the middle and they have to pick which one they want?”

“Okay but the person getting proposed to tonight likely doesn’t know?” Mikael says.

“What if you pretend you didn’t see the instructions?” Shania pitches. “As if we can ever write stuff down correctly anyway. Just say it said to bring out the champagne but nothing about the ring being in a flute! Just hand it back to the proposer and let them get it done.”

“You think we don’t know who the proposee is but we know who the proposer is?” Tomas bites. “If I knew that, Shania, I could have just called them away with a phone call or something and asked them who to give the flute to.”

“Geez,” Shania exclaims, hopping off the bar counter to walk away. “You try to help…”

“And then there were three,” Mario announces as he comes back from another completely unnecessary round of filling water glasses outside.

Tomas’ head snaps up from where he’d been staring into the countertops. “What?”

They all rush to the window and sure enough: Redhead is gone.

“I didn’t see her come in,” Mere says, almost breathlessly. If she’d come in to use the restroom, they would have seen her.

“No, she’s gone-gone,” Mario supplies. “Said she had to get back to work but I’m pretty sure she just wanted out. That’s the chick from the news, you know?”

“People still watch the news?” Mere wondered aloud.

Tomas tsks. “Redhead was the least probable suspect!”

“Well we can rule out Brunette and Pennsylvania as a couple, right?” Umida asks, waiting briefly for the gathered crowd to nod. “Okay, so we’re down to the brunets together, or Pennsylvania and Texas.”

“Or polyamorous,” Mikael sniffs. Mikael is trying polyamory. He doesn’t know there’s a bet going on how long he’ll last. It’s a fine relationship style to get into but one he and his jealousy and insecurity issues are deeply unsuited for.

“Apologies, Mikael, or polyamorous. So you have...yeah, 3 of 3 options left for that ring,” Umida grimaces.

“Wait!” So-Hee cries. She’s supposed to be hosting at the entrance but COVID-19 protocols mean people don’t show up earlier than 5 minutes before their reservation so the podium isn’t very backed up. “What does the ring look like? That could be a clue, right?”

They look to Tomas, whose face is blank.

“You didn’t look?” Mere accuses him, though to be fair it never occurred to her either.

So-Hee pounces on the deep purple velvet box without waiting for Tomas to answer.

“Please god,” Tomas mumbles, grabbing the box out of her hands and prying it open with almost reckless enthusiasm.

All six members of staff currently on duty at the window crowd around, many heads bumping together to catch a glimpse. The ring nestled in the box has a slim, dainty band with a solitaire diamond jutting out proudly, with filigree details on either side.

“Oh thank sweet baby Jesus, that is a woman’s ring!” Tomas nearly yells.

“It could be a man’s ring,” Umida protests weakly, almost sad to see the drama come to an end.

Mere’s a little put out too if she’s being honest. But even if they couldn’t tell from the design, the sizing is way too small to fit on either of table 34’s men’s fingers, as So-Hee demonstrates by plucking the ring up and sliding it onto her own tiny finger.

“Yeah, get it stuck on your sweaty fingers, So-Hee,” Tomas protests almost hysterically, feeling his win come into danger. He wrestles it back off her finger and shoves it back in the box before taking a deep cleansing breath.

“Okay, I’ve got a dessert course to deliver,” he says, the picture of calm professionalism as if he hasn’t spent the last hour losing his entire shit.

———-

They should disperse then, but like brothers in arms after battle, all of them feel the need to stand guard as Tomas prepares to deliver the goods.

Some of them, like So-Hee, stand because they’ve foolishly become emotionally invested in the upcoming nuptial bliss.

Some of them, like Umida, stand because they fell in love with their version of events and they feel the need to properly mourn for what might have been.

“They’re co-parenting that boy,” Umida grumbles. “We all saw that! They can’t deny that!”

And some of them, like Mere, stand because they really can’t be bothered to get back to work.

But stand together they do as Tomas plops the ring in one flute and carries the tray out.

“Excuse me,” comes a voice off to the side of their group.

So-Hee, ever the consummate people-pleaser, actually turns to take care of the customer. The rest of them stay fixed at the window. “Yes, sir, can I help you?”

“Maybe? I couldn’t help but notice that young man taking some champagne out.”

“Yes, would you like to order a bottle as well?” So-Hee pokes Mikael. “We’d be happy to bring some out to you.”

“Ah, no,” the man says. “Well, yes. But I’ve already ordered some. I called earlier, when I reserved my table.”

Mere stiffens, her sixth sense borne of years of customer service piquing. Beside her, Umida takes note as well.

“I asked that champagne be brought to the table with dessert, and I left a box...one that looks a lot like the one on your counter there. And I’m sure it’s just a coincidence but I couldn’t help but want to make sure it’s not my ring that just went out to that other table.”

Mere’s wide eyes spring to Umida’s.

“Oh my fuck,” Umida whispers.

Then they’re both racing for the door.

“Wrong table, wrong table, wrong table,” Mere mutters under her breath as she dodges a stroller and a dog walker trying to reach Tomas —

“Oh, Edmundo!” Brunette exclaims brightly.

Umida’s hand braces Mere like a soccer mom in a car.

It’s too late now.

There’s nothing they can do but watch this trainwreck happen.

Happily, Redhead vacated the seat nearest to them so they have an unobstructed view of Brunette’s eyes filling with tears, of Texas’ wide eyes, and of Pennsylvania’s face losing all colour.

From context, Texas is the Edmundo Brunette is so pleased with.

But Edmundo is shaking his head, his brow furrowed. “I...wha— ”

Pennsylvania comes back to himself first, though the smile he paints on his face is strained and frail. “Ah, con — congratulations.”

“Wha— Buck, no.”

Pennsylvania — Buck — stands up from the table like a colt learning to walk, his eyes darting across the table without landing anywhere. “I — ah — I should let you guys celebrate.”

“Buck, no, I—” Edmundo’s voice is firmer now, his hand darting out to reach for Buck, and Brunette starts to catch on that nobody’s getting down on one knee with a flowery speech.

“Edmundo?” she calls, her bright smile dimming.

Edmundo looks torn and trapped in equal measure, and Mere wonders for a heartbreaking moment if maybe he’s as confused about his relationships as the Tilted Cactus employees have been tonight.

With a sigh, and a reminder that she’s out of this place like Cinderella at midnight, Mere falls on the proverbial meat cleaver. Stepping around Umida’s still outstretched arm, Mere weaves herself in front of Tomas just in case there’s any physical fallout, and pitches her voice low so the neighbouring tables will have to strain to listen in.

“Excuse me, my name is Mere, I’m the assistant manager. I am so sorry to inform you there’s been a terrible mistake. We’ve delivered a ring to your table that was destined to another this evening. We apologize deeply for any confusion this has caused and we will of course be comping your meals.”

“It—Oh.” Brunette’s eyes land on the ring on her finger, and her remaining excitement implodes into embarrassment so quickly and resoundly that Mere’s surprised it doesn’t produce an audible sound. The fingers of her opposite hand grip the ring and pause for a moment before slipping it off. There’s no box to slip it into so Mere holds out her hand, the other tucked neatly behind her back.

“Thank you,” Mere says quietly. “Please forgive us for the mistake. We will be investigating what happened so it never happens again.”

“Of course,” Brunette says lightly, forcing some life back into her voice. “I’m sure you didn’t mean any harm by it.”

Her eyes lift then and take in the scene across from her. Edmundo and Buck still standing, Edmundo’s hand wrapped round Buck’s wrist to keep him from leaving, and her eyes shutter once more.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to freshen up,” she says politely, rising from her seat and escaping into the restaurant.

Edmundo watches her go but says nothing, frozen still, holding onto the man beside him.

With all eyes more or less off them now, Mere gathers Tomas and Umida and hauls ass back into the restaurant.

————-

The ring is cleaned and inspected by Gareth, its actual owner, who is amiable enough to not escalate the situation further. His fiancée-to-be is none the wiser on any of these happenings — luckily their table, 29, is indoors — so his proposal is still on for the next course. But, just in case it doesn’t go the way Gareth hopes and he turns on them, Mere preemptively comps their meal too and congratulates him before he’s reseated.

On her way back to the kitchen, she grabs Lenore and uses the last hour of her completely fake authority to formally bar her from ever answering the phone again, or taking notes from the phone, or writing anything anywhere ever again. Lenore, having heard about the drama at table 34 and having seen the crying woman rush to the bathroom just now, accepts with little resistance.

And Mere, heart heavy with the weight of what they’ve done to this poor woman, mentally shakes her fist at her own curiosity and need for schadenfreude. If she’d bailed on this place an hour ago, she wouldn’t be leaving with this heartache by proxy.

As if beckoned by her thoughts, Brunette emerges from the bathroom just as Mere is crossing in front of it. She looks better, her tears packed away, and her cheeks only slightly reddened. Mere is about to offer her something — a glass of water? wine? a whole bottle? — when Edmundo steps into view. Mere doesn’t break stride until she’s behind the protection of the pay terminal privacy partition where she can see them but not be seen.

“Hey,” he says softly, his frame pretty loose and relaxed for a man who looked so troubled moments ago.

“Hey,” she returns with a forced smile.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know—”

Brunette cuts him off with a hand. “It’s not your fault. They made a mistake. It happens.”

Edmundo nods.

“But…” Brunette continues, fidgeting with the strap of her purse. “For a moment, it didn’t seem far-fetched that it...might be real, you know? I know we’ve been taking things slow, but we have been seeing each other for nearly a year now. And I thought… I don’t know what I thought, but it...it didn’t seem so far-fetched.”

Edmundo’s shoulders have grown tense, and it doesn’t escape Brunette’s notice. She smiles sadly.

“But then I looked up and you weren’t even looking at me. You were looking at Buck. You were so scared he would leave and that — that just doesn’t make sense, does it? I mean, even if the...the ring was a big misunderstanding, wouldn’t it have been better that he leave so we could talk about it privately? But you were scared, because he was upset… And if he was...I don’t know...upset that you hadn’t told him about this, you could have caught up later and discussed it, cleared it up.”

Edmundo says nothing, but he hangs his head and gnaws on his lower lip.

“But you were scared. Scared of him leaving in that moment. Scared...that he’d leave with the wrong idea? That he’d leave thinking you were — we were... ” Brunette sighs sharply. “I think I’ve been a fool.”

“You haven’t—” Edmundo tries to say.

“No, I have. It’s felt so many times like there’s been a third wheel in this relationship, and I genuinely didn’t realize until now that it was me. And maybe I’m naive but I’d like to think you didn’t realize it until today either. That you’re just as big a fool as I am. And maybe Buck is too.”

Edmundo opens his mouth twice to say something but nothing comes out. In the end, he settles on, “Ana, I’m sorry. I...didn’t realize. I don’t even know if I understand what I realize. But I...I know you’re one of the best people I’ve ever met and you didn’t deserve this.”

Brunette — Ana — smiles again sadly, and if a touch bitterly, she’s entitled to it.

“Thank you,” she says softly, before fidgeting with her purse strap again. “I’m going to go. You’ll...say goodbye to Buck for me?” Edmundo nods.

“Goodbye, Edmundo.”

“Take care, Ana,” he responds.

Ana takes a few steps before stopping and turning. “Good luck. I think…” she shakes her head before repeating, “good luck,” and leaving out the side doors.

Mere unglues herself from the privacy wall and slinks sadly back to the bar where she finds Tomas and Umida already halfway through a glass of red each. There’s a third, untouched glass waiting for her.

“We’re horrible people,” Mere decides. “Brunette and Texas just broke up.”

“We didn’t do this,” Umida protests half-heartedly. “Technically, Tomas did.”

“Ugh, you ass,” Tomas sputters. “The note said table 34, you all saw it. It’s Lenore’s fault.”

“It is Lenore’s fault,” Mere agrees before downing half her glass like a shot. Out the window, she can see Pennsyl — Buck — slumped in his chair, staring at the tablecloth. There’s a fresh bottle of wine on the table, two empty glasses at his and Edmundo’s places. Mere raises a glass at Tomas for the gesture.

“If they don’t end up drinking it, I’m taking it home,” Tomas says, “I already wrote it off.”

That’s fair.

Unfortunately for him, when Edmundo gets back to the table, he immediately pours them both a very full glass.

Buck straightens out in his chair, looking concerned and looking around for Ana, who doesn’t materialize. Edmundo says something that has Buck relaxing but looking guilty. Then Edmundo shuffles closer and puts a hand back on Buck’s wrist.

“Okay, back to work,” Mere orders. “We’ve intruded on this drama way too much already.”

When she finds her way back to the bar some twenty minutes later for a totally appropriate reason, table 34 is empty.

————————

A year later, Mere finds herself sitting on the Tilted Cactus bar counter on a Friday night, legs swinging and popping olives like they’re mints. She ended up not quitting her job the night she intended to. Between the excitement, the drama, and the on-duty alcohol, she was feeling pretty chill about sticking it out at the Tilted Cactus a while longer.

But she ended up quitting two days later when the owner found out about how she impersonated an assistant manager and gave her hell for it. She could have stayed, he wasn’t really going to reprimand her. But listening to him talk down at her while her stomach filled with dread at the idea of having to apologize and walk back into that hell hole…nah. Fuck the Tilted Cactus, fuck the owner, and fuck two weeks’ notice. They weren’t getting a minute out of her ever again.

She took the gamble of taking out more student loans and was wrapping up her EMT certification. She’d be in an ambulance soon enough, actually helping people. Not the dream that got her to America, but one that would suffice for now. Make up enough karma to get her feet back under her.

“The lesbians are back,” Umida announces excitedly in a whisper as she fits herself between Mere’s legs against the bar.

“Which lesbians?”

“THEE lesbians,” Umida returns, pointing out the window.

“Those are two guys, babe. Three if you count the kid.”

“They’re lesbians,” Umida insists, waving her hand to dismiss the kid from her labels. “They have strong lesbian energy.”

“You’re claiming them for your people?” Mere grins fondly. It’s the start of Pride again and Umida’s Ally pin has been traded in for a lesbian-flag coloured hijab secured with the updated BIPOC Pride flag pin. She’s very pretty in pink, right down to the lipstick Mere isn’t allowed to kiss off of her until her shift is up.

“I am, they’re mine. I claim them.”

“Wait,” Mere squints, trying to pin down the familiar feeling she’s getting, “are those…”

“The guys! Eddie and Buck. I told you they were semi-regulars now. And we were right, that’s totally their kid. I don’t know how, especially since we know they weren’t together before that night, but he’s their kid. My money’s on one of them being trans because he’s literally their spitting image combined.”

Mere sighs happily and hugs Umida to her. “Well, I’m glad some good came out of that night.”

“Umida?” a young voice asks from across the bar. In the year since the reopening, a slew of new hires have joined the ranks to replace all the veterans leaving and Mere barely recognizes anyone anymore. She saw Mikael (unsurprisingly single again) a couple of weeks ago but he’s clearly on his way out too. Tomas lasted until his probation was over before quitting. Umida, in no small part because she was the longest lasting employee, was rightfully promoted to the role of assistant manager. Mere still hopes she’ll leave this hell hole soon but in the meantime, at least she’s getting paid. And authority looks really good on her.

“What up, Jerome?”

Jerome pushes his dark blue fringe back and holds up a sheet of paper. “I have a note here to deliver a ring to a table with dessert but it doesn’t say who’s supposed to get it.”

“Oh my god, no, no way,” Mere laughs and tries to push Umida away. “Let me out of here.”

Umida’s arms close around her hips, preventing her escape.

“Calm down. I created a form so that night doesn’t happen again. Jerome, did you use the form?”

“Um, yeah.” He shakes the sheet of paper in his hands. “I mean whoever took the call did. They checked off the table number, and it’s a ‘fiancé’ not a ‘fiancée’, but it’s a table with two guys so…”

“Okay, but there’s a field for the name, did they fill it out?”

“How am I supposed to know who they are from a name though?”

“Oh my god, kid, you schmooze,” Umida says. “You roll up to their table, you lay on the customer service thick and introduce yourself and ask their names. People are idiots, they’ll tell you, just like that.”

Jerome cocks his head in contemplation. “Yeah okay, but no, there’s no name. It’s blank.”

“But you made a form,” Mere mock whispers.

Umida turns on her, her eyeshadow catching the bar lights as she narrows her eyes. “This is not the form’s fault, don’t you blame this on the form! The form has a field for a name! The form provides!”

“The form is flawless,” Mere agrees quickly, running her hand down Umida’s arm soothingly. “You can’t account for user error.”

Umida glares harder before looking up to the ceiling in supplication.

Mere, who has never in her life been able to resist picking at a scab, asks, “what table is it?”

Jerome checks the paper. “34.”

“The cursed table. The cursed lesbians!” Mere gasps, squirming out of the way when Umida tries to pinch her side.

“Well it’s not like the kid is a contender, so it’s 50/50,” Umida points out. “Much better odds than last time.”

“And to be fair, if the wrong guy gets the flute, he can just improvise and propose with the ring in hand,” Mere continues. “Overall, much less exciting drama than last time. 3/10 for me.”

“Thank god. Yeah, let’s do that.” Jerome walks away with his marching orders and Umida turns to Mere. “I have to actually go work. You gonna hang out here?” She’s off in a half hour and they have tickets to the back row of the latest Marvel nonsense.

“I got booze, olives, and an unobstructed view of my favourite drama. I’m all set.” In lieu of a proper kiss, Mere lifts Umida’s hand and kisses her wrist, delighting in watching her girlfriend’s eyes soften. She blows Mere a kiss and flits away to put out fires.

Mere is usually on her phone while she waits for Umida but tonight she watches table 34. The guys — Eddie and Buck, Umida reminded her — are across the table from each other, Eddie is relaxed in his chair but Buck is leaning forward, elbows on the table as he tells their son a story that has him cackling in his seat. They’re not holding hands, but anyone looking can see they’re together. They have ridiculous heart eyes for each other, and from her vantage point she can see those long legs intermingling again, one knee occasionally jostling into the other. Little tangible reminders that they’re there and together.

She saw hints of this that night, and to see it have taken hold and blossomed...suddenly she’s really invested in them having a great night. One of them planned this night out, wanted to surprise the other, and she doesn’t want that going to waste because of a blank field on a form.

Mere’s wearing a dark long-sleeve blouse, not too far off the dress code, so slips off the counter, snags the backup apron they always leave behind the bar and ties it around her waist. One of the newbies whose name she doesn’t know watches her from the host pedestal and Mere raises a fierce eyebrow at them until they go back to minding their own business.

She rinses out a jug and fills it with water and ice and slips back into her customer service posture to make the rounds of the tables in section 10.

“Well now, I recognize you handsome folk, don’t I?” she schmoozes when she gets to table 34, picking up Eddie’s glass first to fill.

Eddie doesn’t place her and she doesn’t blame him, he was under a lot of stress that night. It takes Buck a second but he gets it.

“Oh hey, yeah! Weren’t you — “ Buck cuts himself off awkwardly and casts an eye to Eddie and the kid. “You, ah, gave us our meals for free! Because of the, um, mix-up.”

That’s enough for Eddie to place her, and where Buck relaxes back into his chair as she fills his glass, Eddie goes stock still.

Bingo.

“What mix-up?” the kid asks.

“Ah, they put something in our drink by accident,” Buck lies without lying. “Real choking hazard! So they gave us our meals for free.”

“That’s dangerous,” the kid says.

“It was dangerous,” Mere agrees, filling his glass. “Choking hazard was right. Could have turned a really great night all wrong with a trip to the hospital.”

Eddie’s brow furrows slightly and Mere struggles to keep a neutral face.

“It’s never a good idea to hide things in food. I don’t know why people keep trying instead of just calling us for advice. We have tons of ways to help people with surprises.”

“I completely agree,” Buck says. “We’re actually firefighters and you wouldn’t believe how many accidental choking calls we get.”

Eddie swallows, his eyes looking mildly panicked.

“Firefighters!” Mere schmoozes harder, smiling at the kid as he gets excited again. “Well I certainly feel safer then.”

“Ah, you probably shouldn’t. I was actually one of those calls once,” Buck says halfway through a smile and grimace, pointing to his throat where there’s a faint scar. “Emergency tracheotomy on the floor of a restaurant. But that wasn’t a surprise, just, ah, too enthusiastic about the breadsticks.”

Eddie’s looking decidedly gray now, eyes laser focused on the scar.

“Okay, well I’ll just go ahead and clear these,” Mere says, jokingly reaching for the bread basket until Buck laughs back.

“I’m better now, promise! Small bites, chewed thoroughly!”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” she dithers dramatically, nodding to the kid. “If I leave those here, can I trust you to keep an eye on your dad?”

“Yeah!” the kid agrees with a toothy grin.

Buck’s cheeks redden quickly but he’s still smiling, his head ducked shyly in a way Mere doubts is due to her teasing. Eddie, meanwhile, is still looking poleaxed though fondness is fighting its way back in.

“Well, I was just subbing into this section so this will be goodbye for us but it was great to see you guys! Enjoy your evening!”

“Thanks, you too!” Buck says with an easy smile. Eddie manages a “thank you” and Mere has to restrain herself from patting his shoulder as she walks away.

She’s only just returned the apron to the bar when she sees Eddie walk in and head straight for the host before being led to the back.

“Ready to go?” Umida asks, back in her unsensible heels and cross-chest messenger bag.

Mere takes the hand she extends but tugs her closer instead of following her out, before saying the worst thing she’s ever said in her life, “Actually, do you mind if we stick around a little longer?”

“Something good about to happen?” she asks, peeking out the window.

Mere tugs her in closer and leans her chin on her shoulder. “I think so.”

Twenty minutes later, when Jerome passes by with a tray of assorted chocolate treats and two overturned coffee cups, Mere and Umida find themselves bracketed by half the front and back staff. Gossip still spreads like wildfire it seems.

Buck’s overturned coffee cup and plate is the last thing Jerome puts on the table, and as soon as it’s down, he excuses himself. He keeps a professional pace until he’s past the exterior doors and then he’s racing to take a front seat at the bar.

Eddie turns over his cup but doesn’t reach for the carafe, he wipes his hands on his jeans instead.

“Oh my god, he’s so nervous,” Jerome whispers.

“The kid is so in on it,” the host whose name Mere never caught says, and they’re right. Where Eddie’s tensed up, the kid is bouncing in his seat like he knows something’s coming.

“Come on, guy,” a bus boy mutters, checking his watch. His break is almost over.

Mere’s heart is beating hard in sympathy with Eddie’s as they all watch Buck ignore his coffee cup in favor of serving their kid from the tray. Then he signals to Eddie’s plate, who can’t not lift it for the offered chocolate tortes. Finally, there’s chocolate on everyone’s plates and Buck sits back to try a piece of brownie and Eddie can’t take it anymore.

He motions to the carafe and Buck perks up, finally reaching for his cup. But just as his fingers close around it, some idiot’s dog barks on the sideway, calling his attention away. His fingers flip the cup without ever looking at it, or the plate underneath it.

“Oh come on,” Umida moans.

The dog passes with its dumbass owner and Buck puts his cup back down, or tries to, but finds something in the way. He tries again, pushing the intrusion away with the bottom of the cup.

“Oh my god,” is whined in Mere’s left ear and when she turns her head she’s surprised to find not another Tilted Cactus employee but a customer dressed to the nines, pearls and all.

“Ma’am, did you —”

“Shh,” the woman returns, her eyes never moving from the window. Mere turns back too.

Finally, Buck has managed to push the offending items off the plate and settle his cup down and it’s a nail-biting few seconds where it actually looks like he’s going to reach for the carafe and go about his business.

But like a true wingman, the little kid points directly at it, prompting Buck to push the napkin aside and pick up — the ring.

Buck freezes, holding the ring between his thumb and index. His cheeks flush and a smile begins to break over his face before he looks startled and the smile falls abruptly away.

It’s about this time Eddie realizes that proposing by recreating the night they got together was never going to be the best idea when the impetus to their relationship was an engagement ring accidentally sent to the wrong person.

Eddie vaults out of his seat and into the empty one next to Buck, wrapping his hand around the one holding the ring, and bringing his other hand to his cheek to gently turn his head until Buck is looking at him. They can’t tell what he says, but they can watch Buck’s eyes fill with tears, watch as Eddie gestures to their son who’s smiling wide and reaching out for a hand, which Buck instantly provides. His attention comes back to Eddie then, who’s saying something that gets them both looking a little fragile and it’s hard to say if he actually popped the question yet but Buck is surging forward to kiss him hard and fast. Eddie gives as good as he’s getting for a moment before he slows them with small, gentle kisses. And when they finally break apart, Eddie plucks the ring from Buck’s fingers and slides it onto his ring finger as Buck watches, his eyes wide and half incredulous.

Outside, the nearby tables break out into applause, startling the trio and reminding the two men that they are indeed out in public. Eddie acknowledges the applause with an embarrassed hand and waits until they have a modicum of privacy again before taking Buck’s hand and kissing right near the where the ring now sits. He then reluctantly shuffles back into his seat.

Inside, Mere is hugging Umida to her with a strength buoyed by love. Around them, the staff are starting to disperse, some wiping their eyes, some with goofy grins on their faces.

“Young man,” the lady in the pearls says to Jerome, holding out her credit card, “I want you to charge that family’s meal to my card.”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s very generous of you.”

The woman sniffs delicately and leaves without another word. Hopefully Jerome knows where she was sitting…

“I’m glad she did that,” Mere says into Umida’s shoulder, “I was going to, otherwise, and I’m a broke-ass student.”

“I would have pitched in,” Umida says, her voice soft and pensive. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Mere agrees, sliding off the bar counter for the last time. “Oh, hold on.”

She gets closer to the window and turns the flash off of her camera before taking a pic.

“I think that’s bordering on creepy now,” Umida says without judgement.

“It’s not for me.” Mere sends the pic off with a note and three ring emojis.

They don’t make it out of the restaurant before her phone dings.

“What does Tomas have to say?” Umida asks with a smirk.

Mere pulls up the text and reads, “Gays and lesbians. Both, at the same time. Never doubting Umida’s gaydar again.”

Umida laughs victoriously, which shouldn’t be as sexy as it is, and Mere lets her drag her by the hand down the street, letting the nostalgia from tonight settle in her chest.

If there’s anything she misses from working the restaurant scene, it’s getting this glimpse into people’s lives.

Yeah, most of the work was gross, obnoxious, or mind-numbing. But every now and again, she got to be a part of strangers’ stories. Got to be there for the happiest days like graduations, or bridal showers. And even the sadder stories could be beautiful sometimes, like when she got to be extra kind to the elderly woman coming into the restaurant alone for the first time in ten years, or watch a family have their last supper together before their kid moves away for school. It’s just all so human and some kind of wonderful.

She hopes her career as a paramedic will have just a little bit of that kind of magic.

[rhenuvee]

“Your Tip, Love.” (Fred Weasley x reader)

A/N: Can students get part-time jobs...? Idk but just go with it dude.

Taglist: @obsessedwithrandomthings​

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

Why did your mom tell you to get a job? You weren’t poor, nor was this to look good or have work experience. She just hated when you had nothing to do at Hogwarts. It didn’t have to be a good job, but your mom knew that if you didn���t have anything to do you’d die of boredom.

And that’s why you’ve been working at Honeydukes starting this year. On the contrary, standing in the middle of the shop and offering samples of candies seemed to lose your interest very quickly throughout the weeks. At least you got discounts on the candies. 

“(Y/n)! Could you get me a Bertie Bott’s every flavour beans- pretty please?” 

“No!”

Unfortunately, it was highly embarrassing when your friends burst into the shop and demanded free candies from you. Even worse if you see a classmate or someone you worked on an assignment with. Every Saturday, it was a ritual of you crossing your fingers and praying to every great wizard you didn’t see a familiar face and make it awkward.

This Saturday, it seemed to be going fairly well. The customers who were willing to try a sample were very nice, and no one you knew came in. Ahh, today was going to be-

“George hurry up!” 

You froze. You recognized that voice- you definitely spoke too soon. 

Fred Weasley, you definitely knew him, who wouldn’t? Famous prankster along with George and Lee. One of Gryffindor’s star beaters. And you for sure wouldn’t forget him after that one time you were paired with him to do that assignment in potions. 

You remember awkwardly walking to the table for you to work together. You felt sweaty- did you stand too far or too close to him? He did help you which was the opposite of his usual antics. Except you noticed from the corner of your eyes that he was grinning the whole time... why was this important?

You did not realize until your friend flat out told you- they thought you liked him, and that he liked you. They somehow noticed how smiley he was around you- which you did have to admit was out of place because y’all were in potions! And of course they saw your awkward and knew how clammy your hands would get when you were nervous. It was a day of relentless teasing.

But back to a present time problem- Fred, George and Lee had just walked into the store. They were bound to see you, you were practically a sitting duck. 

Your panic mode gave you three options:

Fight - “Hi Fred!” but who were you kidding, your confidence was level 0. 

Flight - Run away and have Mr. and Mrs. Flume scold you? Plus, wouldn’t that make you a tad dramatic?

Freeze - And then you could-

“Are those chocolate frogs?” asked Lee Jordan. You were snapped out of your thoughts and your face started to get hot instantly.

“Um, yeah would you like one?” you said shyly stretching out the tray of sweets.

“Free samples? Wicked.” The boys each took one chocolate frog from the tray and started to browse around the shop for any other sweets that interested them. 

You weren’t able to see Fred’s reaction to seeing you, but knowing that he didn’t say anything made you guess that he didn’t recognize you, or something along those line. You turned your head in the boys’ direction. They were distracted by the shelves of candies and were not making things awkward with you.

You sighed a breath of relief and checked the watch on your left wrist. Your shift was almost done, and you could finally return to your dorm and flop on the bed. 

The three boys paid for their treats and left the store. You took one last glance at them as they exited and then back to your watch.

“Hey (y/n).” You lifted your head to come to sight of Fred, who was in the middle of holding the door slightly open for himself.

“It was nice seeing you.” he said with a wink. With that he left, and you seemed to still be initiating the third panic mode option with your jaw dropped. Did Fred Weasley just say it was nice to see you?! 

The moment Mr. Flume bid you goodbye for the week, you bolted back to the castle immediately. 

---

It was another Saturday at Honeydukes. Fred had not said anything to you about last week, and you were grateful. Little did you know, that older Weasley twin had a plan.

“(Y/n)!” shouted your friend Maya. 

“Oh hi Maya!” you said surprised that she came to Honeydukes.

“Just wanted to visit, wouldn’t want you to be lonely.” she joked. You rolled your eyes playfully. You couldn’t deny it though, you did enjoy when your friends made a bit of time to be with you at your shift.

You were talking for a bit, until you saw who you did and did not want to see. You watched with wide eyes as Harry, Ron, Hermione and the twins entered the store. 

“Hey isn’t that Fred Weasley? The guy you get all nervous around?” she whispered in your ear. 

“Maya!” you scolded attempting to bump into her with your tray of sweets. 

“Oh I see how it is...” she winked in amusement of the scowl on your face. She then went to the shelves in the back.

“Maya where are you going?” you asked almost frantically.

“Hm? Oh nothing, these chocolates look really interesting...” she said clearly putting on an act to seem busy. You were definitely going to get her back for that.

“Are those sugar quills free samples?” asked a voice which made you turn your head back to the front. You came to face Ron Weasley, who you knew as the twins’ younger brother. 

“Yeah, feel free to take one.” You tried to sound less shaky, you hoped it worked. Ron’s eyes widened and started taking a few quills. 

“Ronald!” scolded Hermione hitting his arm. Ron was taken aback. “She said take one, not an all you can eat buffet!” 

“Alright I’m sorry!” Ron said slightly embarrassed.

“It’s okay, really!” you said trying to reassure them, you didn’t want to make it more weird. Hermione shook her head at him as Harry and the twins were snickering. They all parted ways within the store, except Fred didn’t budge.

“Sorry about my brother.” he said sheepishly.

“It’s fine, it’s no big deal anyway.” you said. Your heart was pounding, the fact that you uttered a full sentence to Fred was an accomplishment.

“What’s a girl like you doing, working at Honeydukes?” Fred asked while picking up one of your sugar quills. 

“Oh, my mom doesn’t like when I don’t have anything to do. I mean it’s fine really, I get a discount on candy.” you explained. “W-what about you?”

“Me? Well rumour has it that there’s a really cute girl who works at Honeydukes who displays the sweets every Saturday.” he said smirking. Your face went beet red- he was talking about you?!

“R-really...?” you asked attempting to sound oblivious.

“Yes, and she’s especially cute when she gets all quiet around me.” He was making you more embarrassed than intended. Way for him to call you out sis. You were about to say something, but the trio and George finished paying for their candies and were heading out.

“Fred, stop flirting, let’s go!” called George holding the door open for him. Your brain was going haywire- Fred Weasley flirting with you?? Fred chuckled.

“Be patient you prat.” George rolled his eyes in return. You watched as Fred fished in his pockets for coins and placed them on your display tray.

“Your tip, love.” he said. He bent down to your height and kissed your cheek. You were left with the feeling of his soft lips on your face. You couldn’t utter a single word out. Fred waved at your paralyzed state and left with George shaking his head and laughing at his twin’s romantic gesture. 

“Oh my god...” said a voice behind you. You turned your head slowly and saw Maya.

“Maya! What the fu-”

“Did Fred just kiss you?!” she squealed. She looked more excited than you.

“I-” you couldn’t even English at this point. You knew she was going to tease you for this big time, so you had to change the subject. “Maya, did you really take ten minutes to admire those chocolates in the back?”

“Yes.”

---

Your shift was almost done for today, however your heart was fluttering the whole time thinking of Fred. Oh god, how were you supposed to face him now?

Suddenly you heard a thump coming from the cellar of the store. You didn’t go down there often, so you felt a little uneasy when you walked in slowly to check.

“Mr. Flume? Mrs. Flume?” you called out quietly. No answer. You looked left and right, there was nobody you could see. 

Your whole body did a small jump as you saw a tile on the floor move. The tile kept moving until you saw it lift and move to the side. You were shocked to see Fred emerge.

“Oh hello love.” he said casually.

“Fred! What are you doing?!” you whisper-yelled as you went to help him get out. As soon as he stepped out, he dusted off his clothes.

“I missed you.” he said a smirk playing on his lips. Fred making you flustered twice in one shift? Your heart couldn’t take it.

“S-stop playing with me, why did you- no, how did you come here?! What was that?!” you asked pushing him up the stairs back to the shop. He purposely resisted a little to make your life harder. As soon as you both reached the top of the stairs, he leaned against wall.

“Didn’t know you spoke that much, (y/n).” he teased. You groaned.

“Fred, I already saw you this morning, why are you-”

“Go on a date with me.” You backed into the doorway from hearing what he had just asked you. You noticed that there wasn’t a playful grin on his face, but instead looked almost worried. 

“Okay.” you said smiling.

“Okay?” he asked repeating your reply. You realized how short and blunt your answer seemed. No wonder you’ve been single all this time.

“I-I mean yes! I’d love to go on a date with you.” you said shyly. He walked over to your small form and lightly pinned you against the wall.

“Can I kiss you then?” he asked brushing your jawline with this thumb. You managed to nod in response. With that, he closed the remaining gap between you and locked his lips with yours.

The kiss made you dizzier ten times more than the simple peck from hours ago. And bloody hell was he a good kisser. Your arms went up to link around his neck, bringing him closer and deepening the kiss.

“Um (y/n), it’s the end of your shift you and your boyfriend can leave now...”

You both broke off immediately in embarrassment as you recognized the voice as Mrs. Flume. She was standing awkwardly behind the cashier. Oh god, you were going to get fired for sure.

“...I told him to use the front door but he just had to pull a Santa Clause-“ The three of you turned your heads to the door to see Lee and George mid sentence stopping to see you and Fred with your hands on each other and Mrs. Flume catching you in the act.

“Oh my- Mrs. Flume we’re so sorry!” said George pretending to be scared and apologizing a million times.

“Yes yes it will never happen again!” shouted Lee being just as dramatic.

“You know how couples get..” said George pushing you and Fred out the door quickly.

“U-uhm I’m so sorry Mrs. Flume, S-see you next week!” you stuttered out without even looking her in the eye. As you stopped outside you panted as Fred was giggling the entire time.

“Why are you laughing? Fred!” you said playfully slapping him on the arm as he continued laughing.

“Oh Merlin, (y/n) you don’t know how funny that was- your reaction was adorable!”

“You should be glad, we saved both your arses.” Said Lee proudly with George nodding along.

“Now you can finally go on your date!” Said George cheerfully. “But if I see you both snogging when you get back I won’t be there to save either of you again.”

You blushed at the thought of you and Fred snogging again. Fred scoffed and waved them off. He took your hand in his as you started to walk on your date.

“By the way, I don’t care what George says. There will be snogging, a hundred percent.”

—————————————————

Please message me if you’d like to be a part of my tag list. I write for 3 fandoms so specify which one!

[entishramblings]

The Rings and Jewels Upon Your Ears - Sensitive Elf Ears [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: hey guys! here is another one shot about our favorite blue eyed elf that I wrote while procrastinating my fanfic because writers block!!! So enjoy this short fic about sensitive elf ears bc I am, and always will be, a slut for elf ear fics oop. Also if you do not have earrings I’m so sorry this was just an idea!

Request: none

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: Girl falls into middle earth and the elves of Mirkwood are confused about her earrings; most find it distasteful, but Legolas is fascinated!

Word Count: 2,246

Warnings: heated kissing (nothing further)

*all elvish was looked up online from numerous sources so please dont hate if it is not entirely correct*

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

(Y/N)‘s stomach dropped and queasiness overtook her as she plummeted through the cold air. She tried to grasp onto something—anything—to stop her from plunging to her death. But no matter how much she reached outward, the only thing she held in her hands was dewy water and moisture—for the only thing to grasp was dark gloomy clouds. (Y/N)’s limps felt limp as freezing rain collected on her skin, soaking her to the bone; Her wet hair whipped around her face like an over-sized mop in a miniature tornado, inviting the thick strands to get stuck in her mouth. Her whole body was numb from the cutting cold as she spun downward. To make matter worse, she was 89% sure she had lost a shoe as her one foot felt significantly colder.

(Y/N) didn’t think the circumstance could possibly get more terrifying as her heart was already struck with paralyzing fear; but alas, it was just her luck. A brilliant bolt of light shuttered from the sky, zapping through the air right next to her. She was sure she could feel the electricity rushing through her blood as the thin hairs on her arm stood up.

This was it. This was how she would go out.

Suddenly, pain erupted up her spine. She felt her nerves become overloaded with intense agony that extended through her body. She squeezed her eyes shut.

It was over. She had hit the ground. She had met her end.

But when (Y/N) opened her eyes, she saw grey stone high above her.

She groaned loudly as she pulled her body into sitting position. Her back ached slightly but the pain was not anywhere near as severe as her shock. How was she not dead....or was this death? Her curious eyes wandered in examination of her surroundings. She was in a large dark corridor that had big archways and extravagantly carved doors scattered amongst the sides in an orderly pattern. The air felt eerie and sinister as she stumbled over the abandoned, smooth, stone floor. Anxiety crept into her soul.

So this what was the invitation of death felt like.

Alone, soaking wet, missing a shoe, and shrouded with fear.

How lovely.

(Y/N) was pulled from her thoughts as chaos surrounded her and grabbed her upper arms. This chaos was tall, long haired, strikingly gorgeous, and many in number. These strange people encircled her and bound her wrists while hollering words in a language she didn’t understand.

Her head spun, what was going on? was this the afterlife? if so, it was quite weird.....

She was in a daze as they dragged her through hallway after hallway; taking so many twists and turns she would never be able to find her way back—not that going to that spot again would help anything. Where ever she was, there was no escape.

(Y/N) was brought forth in front of a long blonde haired man highly decorated in silk and jewels. He sat upon a winding wooden throne and an elaborate crown made of branches and berries rested upon his head. In one word, any individual would describe him as: regal.

The peculiar people pushed her to her knees as he spoke. Words flowed from his mouth with a smooth, deep, and intimidating tone; but those words meant nothing to her as they were completely foreign to her brain.

Silence feel between them as they looked upon her, waiting. Waiting for what?!

He spoke again, anger and irritation tumbling from his lips.

Suddenly her head was grasped by warm hands and roughly tilted upwards and to the side. Her eyes met those of another that were strikingly blue. She gasped, from the shock and the slight pain that radiated through her neck. Another hand that did not belong to the man above her pulled her locks from her face. They all looked at her ear intently. Weird kink?

The one who freed her ear from the sopping mess she called hair spoke, “Est a- an elleth, ach nad othren est lheweg (she is a female elf, but something strange is upon her ear).”

Whatever he said, it was the cause of her head being viciously tilted once again.

The King hollered at her a second time, his displeasure and irritability obvious.

(Y/N) attempted to pull from the blue eyed man’s grasp but failed exceptionally, for his grip was taught.

More harsh words were thrown at her and the hold upon her squeezed tighter—initiating pain.

A slight whimper escaped her lips. The blue eyes above her seemed regretful and their owner drew his eyebrows together in concern and confusion.

(Y/N) looked up at him, her gaze meeting his.

“Please...” she whispered ever so quietly; she wasn’t even sure he could have heard her.

Instantaneously, his hands fell from their hold and the blue pooled with intrigued perplexity.

He spoke, his voice was powerful and commanding. “She speaks the common tongue.”

She felt the eyes of those around her pouring into her soul with confusion and the yearn for answers.

“What is the point of and elf who doesn’t understand Sindarian?” The regal figure spoke.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in bewilderment. “An elf?”

The King rolled his eyes, “Yes that is what you are, is it not? The tips of ears do not lie. Now speak quickly who sent you and how did you gain entrance?”

She looked about her dumbfounded as her gaze searched all the individuals ears—all pointy. Elves? When it dawned on her that she hadn’t answered the question, she spoke, “Sent me? I don’t even know where I am!”

Silence fell between every individual in the room and the tension lingered; she felt the agitation seeped into her skin as a shiver rippled through her body.

The King tilted his head slightly as he examined her. Only then did she realize just how unusual they really were. Their clothing was bizarre—old fashioned—and they were loaded with weapons; but no guns were in sight, they held bows in their callused hands and knives were strapped upon them. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought she fell into the past. But that would be impossible. However, one thing was certain: she couldn’t be dead.

“What did you do to your ear?” The King questioned.

She frowned, suddenly remembering her immediate reality, “You—you mean my earrings?”

“Yes, the rings and jewels upon your ears.”

(Y/N) was taken aback. What a strange question. She had a large amount of earrings; at least 8 or 9 on each side, placed differently on each ear. Did he not know of piercings? How big was the rock that these people lived under?

She chose her words carefully, by the way he spoke she figured he would not understand her normal slang. “They are for decoration—for beauty.”

He spoke again but his tone laced with disgust, “Why would you desecrate yourself in such a way?”

(Y/N) was filled with confusion. This was a normal custom where she was from. Quite rude for him to insult her in such a way.

When she offered no response the King turned to the man....or elf shall she say....that had held her taught. “Legolas, lock her in the dungeons.”

(Y/N) felt a lump in her throat. Dungeons....that could never be good.

The blonde elf pulled her up gently and led her away with other guards pursuing them closely. More winding halls and steep stairs became her only sight as she was ushered along.

......

The metal bars slammed in her face as she felt numb misery confine her soul. Was this to be her life now?

As the elves filtered out, one stayed behind. Legolas, she recalled his name. He was quite tall, but alas, they all were tall to (Y/N) for she had always been considered small. His face was proportional and structured as the shadows from the torches danced upon his form. His jaw line was sharp and defined while he stood before her with confidence. He definitely had a position of authority, she thought. Furthermore, His dark eyebrows were a contrast to his sleek blonde hair that was held back by three simple braids; but it did not look unfitting, rather it was quite suitable. His light pink lips were pulled into a line as his blue orbs gazed upon her. She could see him pondering the circumstances.

He spoke lightly, no animosity upon his tone. “You are not from here, are you?”

(Y/N) nodded. Her world felt so far away and the hopes of returning faded into the shadows as despair stretched across the corners of her mind.

......

Many months had past of (Y/N) living in a cell. Within this time, she had become quite friendly with Legolas—who she had found out was the son of the King. However, the blue eyed elf was nothing like his father. For starters, on the first night she arrived he brought her fresh clothing and a towel to dry her soaked self. Legolas was kind and patient. When she threw the fabrics back at him—screaming and hollering to be released—he did not lash out; she had a suspicion any other would. Looking back, (Y/N) realized that he must have suspected her entire world was turned upside down. I mean how often do you find out you had a species change and were transported to a different sphere of reality?

The Elven Prince came to visit her often and they would have long conversations. She told him of where she came from and he taught her of the new world she now lived in. He tutored her in the language of the elves—Sindarin—and spoke of their ways. They were creatures of intense, impressive, and impeccable skill who lived immortal lives. She could feel her senses heightening and improving as the day’s went on and her muscles began to strengthen. It took long for (Y/N) to wrap her head around her new reality; and how she became of it, she knew not.

It was evening when Legolas came to visit her once again. She smirked at him from behind the bars, “What do you have to bring me this time?”

A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lip. He held up a large, dark green book and slipped it through the metal shafts. “The history of Middle Earth. Teach yourself wisely.”

She grinned, “Thank you, Legolas.”

He turned to leave for he had other duties that his father insisted upon, but he hesitated. Legolas rotated his body to look at (Y/N) once more. His gaze lingered upon her exposed ears as her hair was tied back in a tight braid.

He spoke softly, “Did it hurt?”

Her brows knitted together, “Did what hurt?”

“Your ears—the jewelry.”

She shook her head, “No not really? Why do you ask?”

He took a couple steps towards her and a slight chuckled escaped his mouth, “An elf’s ears are very....sensitive.”

She tilted her head, “What do you mean?”

He drew his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment as he eliminated the space between himself and the bars.

“May I?”

(Y/N) took a step closer, so she too was against the thick metal rods. She could feel his hot breath upon her face as he looked down at her; She was sure he could hear her heart pounding for elves could pick up any sound—she could hear his. Legolas raised a hand through the bars and gently cupped one side of her face. He lightly touched the tip of her ear and trailed his finger down. (Y/N) gasped as the sensation shuttered throughout her entire being. She could see his blue eyes shift to her lips before locking back with her eyes once again. (Y/N) lifted her hand through the bars, her expression begging to commit the same action.

“(Y/N), you know not what you will do to me.”

She bit her bottom lip and looked up at him. She did not heed his warning one bit; she grazed her finger along the edge of his ear.

Without warning both his hands flew through the bars; one wrapping around her waist and the other clutching her face. He forcefully yanked her body into his and smashed his lips against hers, both their faces pressing against the cold metal. The taste of mint and honey melded in her mouth as their lips moved in a gently rhythm, dancing against each other. (Y/N) snaked her arms up his chest, feeling the firm muscles underneath his tunic, until she wrapped them around his neck—tangling her hands in his soft hair. She felt a heat rise from her stomach to her chest as she hungrily moved her mouth with his. When Legolas’s teeth tugged on her bottom lip, nearly all her thoughts silenced and her desire for him grew. She opened her mouth to allow his tongue entrance; they battled for dominance.

Suddenly, the warmth was torn from her. Legolas pulled his head back and turned his face from her, but his hands would not move from their grasp. (Y/N)’s swollen lips parted as doubt flooded her, had she done something wrong?

His voice was one of a growl, “Look what you do to me.” His breathing was heavy and his chest was rising and falling. He turned his attention back to her, “You allow me to divulge in my impulses.”

(Y/N) smirked, “Is that such a bad thing?”

Legolas leaned his forehead against hers and he gave her a lopsided grin, “Never.”

[joontier]

Subliminal in Scrubs | V1;  report viii

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: humor, romance

warnings: someone will be leaving...temporarily....

word count: 2.3k

g/n: sorry for posting this late sdfasdfa

[taglist]: @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle​

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) |  navi. | m.list

There’s a knock on your door, one you instantly recognize as it’s a catchy beat you exclusively share with one person alone: Ayoung. “Mind if I came over?” she asks from the other side of the door. You roll your eyes, chuckling as you walk to your doorway, “I don’t even know why you even bother asking, honestly!” 

“Unlawful entry happens when a private person enters the property of another without consent from the owner. The same shall be punished by…” 

Ayoung pauses her sentence midway as you open the door. “And does that count when said owner had long given such private person the passcode to her door, Attorney Shin Ayoung?” 

It’s Ayoung who fondly rolls her eyes this time. She raises her hands, fingers turning white as she clutches onto two bags full of food. Your face lights up at the sight.  Whoever said that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach was severely mistaken - that, or he or she hadn’t taken a woman’s true source of wellbeing into consideration.

“What’s on our menu today?” 

“Oh you know our go-to review food. Seori halmeoni’s jjajjangmyeon house special!” Your mouth falls agape, astounded at how she even managed to get those when halmeoni’s special dish always sold out in the middle of the day. 

“Please don’t tell you lined up for hours for these...” 

“What if I told you I didn’t have to?” Ayoung winks while she takes her shoes off.  You grab the food from her hands and start setting the table. “What do you mean you didn’t have to?” She chuckles at your creased forehead, knowing you’re talking about the minimum one-hour waiting time of halmeoni’s stall - and that’s on off-peak hours.

“I think the landlady might’ve mentioned me moving to a new apartment, so when I was coming home from school today, she called me over to her stall and handed me these care packages.” 

“Awh, that’s so sweet of her!” Your chest warms at the thought and the reminder that your lovely neighbor was going to move away. Not to mention Chohee has similar plans too. 

Ayoung lets Netflix pick out a random movie, adjusting the lighting of your room enough for you to eat your dinner while watching. “Right, speaking of, won’t the hospitals be sending out acceptances for your post-graduate internship?” 

Pushing your laptop to Ayoung’s side of the table, you show her the screen of your mail - the same page you have been refreshing for hours now. “Well, let’s just hope for the best then, shall we?” 

Forty-five minutes into Miss Congeniality, a notification from your mail app lights up your phone screen. You see the header display that it’s from Woocheon, and it’s as if your heart drops to the ground, and your fingers are simply glued to the side of your phone, leaving you staring at it until the screen turns black again. 

Ayoung notices your silence and pauses the movie. “You okay?” the sweet girl places a comforting hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently to wake you from your trance. Gulping, you look at her expectantly. “It’s an email from Woocheon.” Her eyes widen along with yours. “Well, aren’t you going to open it?” 

“What if I didn’t make it?” 

“Unnie, you wouldn’t know unless you do.” 

With one eye closed, you turn to your laptop and click on the new mail. “Besides, they’d be a fool if they didn't accept the application of the same woman who topped the exam now, wouldn’t they?”

Just then, Chohee’s caller ID lights up your phone. 

“_____________!!!!!!!!!” Your best friend’s voice rings in your ears, your barely comprehensible name loud and clear with Chohee’s shrieking.

“I’m already positive you got accepted to Woocheon because I had this gut feeling and you know my gut never lied to me - plus I had it confirmed by a fortune teller…” Chohee starts, then takes a breather, “BUT guess what? I also made it to Daegu Medical Center!! GAH _________ I’m literally crying right now!!” 

“I’m so proud of you Chee, I really am,” your voice wavers, and you bite on your lip to keep yourself from pouring out all your feelings. “Don’t go me emotional right now, young woman! I’ve got makeup on, and my parents and I are going out to dinner, and I can’t ruin my cute outfit with tear-stained cheeks now, can I?” 

Typical Chohee. You smile. “Of course, Chee. I know. We’re gonna be actual doctors! You go ahead and enjoy your family time. Young-ie has come over with jjajjangmyeon.” 

“It’s jjajjang-night and none of you even bothered to send me an invite?! So much for our so-called friendship huh!” 

“Well, if you’re willing to drive three hours all the way from Daegu after you have dinner with your parents, you’re free to come. Otherwise, we’ll have to finish halmeoni’s recipe all by ourselves.” 

Chohee sighs from the other end of the line, while Ayoung watches your conversation with your best friend with the fondest of smiles. Chohee doesn’t stay long after that, declaring that she has to go. As soon as you put down your phone, Ayoung asks about your best friend, “If you don’t mind me asking, why did she choose Daegu Medical Center? I thought Woocheon was like the most sought after hospital for internships?” 

“Actually, DMC is being managed by Woocheon too. If I’m not mistaken, it’s also equally as hard to enter Woocheon. Plus her parents work there too, so DMC was the only hospital for her.” Ayoung nods her head in acknowledgment, then presses a button on the remote to continue the movie when an unknown number sends you a text.

Out of all people, you weren’t expecting Soomin to send you a text. You’d been meaning to hear from her so you excitedly send her a text back. 

Just the same as the last time you went here with Chohee, the tiny bell dings when you open the door to the cafe. Soomin instantly hears the sound and waves you over to her table. As you near, she rises from her seat with a big smile on her face. 

“________! Long time no see!” she exclaims, extending a hand outward to offer you the seat across hers. 

“Soomin! It’s been some time, hasn’t it? Would you believe it’s been months since we were reviewing our notes under strobe lights and loud music? Out of all the places to review though!” you laugh, setting your bag down. While Soomin goes through the menu, you take the opportunity to look for Jimin if he was around so you could introduce them to each other too. After all, there’s no harm casually meeting your workmates before meeting them formally as coworkers right? 

“You know, I was really looking forward to this day - especially when you had invited me to this lovely place for brunch…” A smile graces Soomin’s youthful features. “I actually know someone who world here...I’m not exactly sure if he’s working today though…” Once more, you glance over Soomin’s shoulders, hoping you’ll catch a glimpse of Jimin’s golden locks. Ah, yes. Speaking of goldilocks. 

“Wow! Just in time.... He’s actually here today! Jimin!” Your calling his name surprises him, immediately causing him to look for the source of the voice. He’s sporting a wide grin when he recognizes you from the counter, until he sees who you’re with then diverts his attention somewhere and walks away quickly. 

Absolutely taken aback by his reaction, you sit there for a moment with your mouth agape until Soomin clears her throat discreetly. “Um...o-okaayy, that was awfully strange...I’m sorry - he’s not usually like that.” You discreetly hide the disappointment in your voice, wondering if Jimin just literally pretended to not see you when you had even waved him over. 

“Oh really?” 

“Yeah...um...I’ll try to approach him later…” 

“Perhaps he’s uncomfortable meeting strangers?” 

Highly unlikely. Not when Jimin had no problem interacting with the other oath takers that he managed to get the whole group and your families away from the maze they called the convention center. Plus, he’s really good with the customers too who generously fill up the tip box after experiencing Jimin’s exemplary customer service. Jimin’s ability to handle social interactions is out of the question. 

“This Jimin guy,” Soomin starts, pointing a thumb towards the till, “how did you get to know him?” 

You pause for a moment, recalling your memories. “Honestly, I just realized it now, but I actually met him the same night I met you. He was in the same club we were dragged into, and when you convinced me to approach the cute guy at the bar, he actually saved me from a spiked drink - from the dude I was supposed to hit on. The next time I met Jimin was when Chohee and I went here for brunch too and we saw him working here, so I guess that’s how we all came to be friends…” Jimin’s cold-shoulder just moments ago appears in your thoughts. “....I guess...at least that’s what I thought.” 

You figure this apparent ‘friendship’ with Jimin wasn’t exactly as real as you thought it was.

It’s all the more surprising that Soomin seems to be the least interested in your meeting, or, that she already knew who Jimin was. She was simply nodding her head as you talked, occasionally sneaking a few glances at Jimin while he was serving orders to the other customers. 

You start patching things up, trying to put two and two together to see if it would all make sense. No way. Could it be? That these two had history? 

Just then, Soomin stands to excuse herself and heads over to the toilet. The moment she disappears from your sight, you hastily call Jimin over. “Are you okay? Was there a reason why you couldn’t come over earlier? I wanted to introduce two of my friends to each other, but one doesn’t seem to be so willing....” You cross your arms over your chest, murmuring your hurt feelings loud enough for Jimin to hear. 

“I’m sorry, ________. But your ‘friend’....she’s not really just someone uh…” 

“Was she your ex-girlfriend then?” Pursing your lips, you egg him to go on with a raise of your eyebrow. Jimin’s eyes widen and he shakes his head back and forth. “No! No...it’s not like that...she’s actually my boss.” 

His hesitant explanation doesn’t convince you one bit. Surely, there’s all the more reason for him not to blatantly ignore you when his boss was seated right in front of you the whole time, wasn’t it? 

Jimin sighs as he watches your reaction, knowing his clarification didn’t suffice. “Well she isn’t my boss, per se, but she is the daughter of the woman who owns this cafe. Wait, they own the whole building, really.” 

Oh. 

“And uh…” Jimin gulps. Hard. “....the other day…” He looks around warily. “...I might have spilled coffee all over her dress...which was white…” 

Oh. 

Shit. 

“Why didn’t you just quit? It would have been easier.” 

“I couldn’t. Not when Woocheon’s results weren’t out yet. I need my allowances too!” 

Just as if on a terrible cue, out of nowhere, Soomin appears beside Jimin. You weren’t about to abort from your original mission though. “Hah! Perfect timing! Um, Soomin, this is Jim…” Before you even finish your sentence, Jimin bows quickly, apologizes, then turns on his heel, declaring that he still had to get back to the kitchen to do stuff. 

Soomin remains silent, getting back to her seat quietly. You suddenly feel bad for her, seeing how Jimin makes every attempt to ignore her, and gets away with it every time. 

Unfortunately and unlike Chohee, you are unable to get out of an awkward situation in a snap of a finger, so you apologize in Jimin’s stead first. “I’m so sorry, uh, he can be really shy at first…” Hopefully that wasn’t a complete lie?

Much to your surprise, Soomin waves it off with a smile. “It’s no worry, really. He’s probably still bothered with him spilling coffee all over my dress but I assured him a couple of times that it wasn’t that big of a deal. And that I always have extra clothes stashed in my car.” 

Soomin shrugs as she takes a sip of her lemonade. “I told Jimin it was nothing afterwards, but he wouldn’t stop apologizing...and now he won’t look at me too.” You’re at a total loss, amazed at how she calmly and easily handled that situation like a true boss. 

“Besides, dwelling on such a small thing won’t be worth it. Not when we’ll be spending an entire year together…” 

You go over her statement again, partly confused. An entire year together? She meant the internship, probably? And above all that - she knew about Jimin too, even when the boy won’t even let himself get five meters close to Soomin?” 

“Ah yes, I’m sure Jimin has told you about Woocheon as well right?” 

Well, you were aware of that, but you weren’t so sure about how she knew about yours and Jimin’s applications. “Yeah...um, but….I’m sorry, was there a list online that mentioned all the chosen applicants for the internship program?” 

“Oh right - I sort of know some people from Woocheon who have told me about those who got accepted...It still feels like it was just yesterday when I was registering my classes for med school and now we're finally here!” 

The two of you toast the future, clinking your glasses of lemonade together. Nothing could get better than having your friends become your workmates too. Surely, it’s a sad fact that Chohee won’t be going to the same hospital as you would, but you’re beyond elated that she got into DMC where she’d always wanted to work at. 

At least you’ve got Jimin and Soomin by your side now, and hopefully, new friends you’ll meet along the way.

© joontier 2021

[ladykatakuri]

Our Dance

Tech x F Reader

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 2175

Lyrics used from the song All about us performed by He is We

Summary:“I believe you might have to come to her aid soon. The senator currently trying to keep her attention on him is well known for his more….illustrious desires when it comes to women.” The concern in her eyes immediately urges him to spring to action and before she can even finish her full sentence he is off to the rescue.

Here it is, the Tech fic i was working on. Somehow i had several songs that inspired story idea`s and ofcourse it is with the guys from the Batch and yes i also have something in mind for Omega. Hope you like it and comments / tips are always more then welcome here <3

It was one of those evenings, once more. A senator had decided that it was time for an early celebration of, well something important on his home world and of course that meant guests, a lot of food and drinks, caterers and guards. Normally not a big problem, any time that you were invited to a party by a good friend you would happily accept and you did, but this evening turned out to be a huge annoyance to you and a strain on your self restraint.

During your time serving food and having nice conversations with people from all layers of society you came to be very fond of the clones you met. The Coruscant Guard became steady customers of the shop where you served caf and breakfast most times and all the others were a steady stream of visitors at 79`s, the bar where you would have evening and night shifts, waiting on tables and just having a good time with your new found friends. But this party? You would be happy to leave and if you could leave after giving some of the politicians there a piece of your mind then all the better!

It began with the senator of Scipio and delegate of the Banking Clan, Rush Clovis, mentioning to another senator he did not see why there should be any consideration for the clones. Their conversation was caught by you as you walked by on your way back to your friend who had invited you in the first place, Padme Amidala, but it was more than enough for you to already hate the man. Unfortunately it was not an uncommon feeling among people with a seat in the senate to think of the clones as nothing more but meat for the grinder. They were created on Kamino to fight in the war effort, and when they died? Well there were more where they came from.

With a slight tremble you move forward, handing out the drink to a friend you found among the guests and had a nice conversation with. In the meantime you knew that several clones were there by special invitation. The senator that was hosting this party wanted to display his power and thought it would be fun to have some of those clones around to have fun with. In this case that fun meant that the guests who wanted to, could either talk to the clones or even dance with them. They were no more than props on display for most of the people there and you hated every second of it. Especially when you realised one of your favorite groups of men were also there. You were about ready to leave the party and grab some sleep when you saw that special group of men, especially one very special, tall, goggled man who had been haunting your daydreams from time to time.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When Tech heard that they were ordered to attend a party he was seriously confused. “They do realise we are considered to be defective clones? Not many senators or other high placed figures would want us around them on purpose.” Rubbing his head he looks at his sargeant and leader, Hunter.

With a deep sigh, Hunter looked at his brother. “Yes Tech, they know. I believe that is exactly why they want us to attend this thing. I suppose there is some ulterior motive to it, but we have to follow this order in any case. So, suit up and be on your best behavior.” The last sentence has the sarge glance at the two most troublesome of his brothers, Wrecker and Crosshair. They were the least likely to really behave, but that was a concern for later.

Tech felt uncomfortable in his black suit, but orders were orders in this case and at least Senator Amidala had been kind enough to start a conversation with him and Echo. Both were surprised at her kindness and how she was genuinely interested in their feelings about the war. Echo had stopped him from rambling about the war too much by pointing out the one person he knew would draw more attention than anyone else in the room.

Take my hand, I'll teach you to dance

I'll spin you around, won't let you fall down

Would you let me lead? You can step on my feet

Give it a try, it'll be alright

For a moment it seemed as if there was only one person in the entire room, and that person was you. Tech looked in the direction Echo pointed at and there you were, walking around greeting and conversing with some of the guests in the room and looking picture perfect while doing so. A string of hair escaped your ponytail and the annoyed glance aimed at one of the senators only made you seem more beautiful. Looking at the senator that seemed to have annoyed you so much, he immediately understood why you seemed ready to hit the man with your fist. Senator Clovis was known to be ruthless when it came to clones and clone rights. When asked, he would always say the exact same thing, “Clones are mere tools in the warmachine. A cog perhaps. They are easily replaced and so, we have no need to mourn the loss of any of them. I see no reason why we would even have to spend any credits on the recovery of the wounded.”

A small grin formed on his lips as he watched you stalk away from the man and move to stand somewhere calm and quiet. Senator Amidala, still in conversation with Echo noticed the slight change in attitude as his eyes followed you around the room. “If you pardon my intrusion, Tech is it?” Her hand taps his arm as she turns to speak to him.

Tech looks at the senator as he answers. “It is indeed, senator. How may I help you?”

Amidala looks at the man currently shifting attention between her and the woman he keeps an eye on as she moves around the room. “I believe you might have to come to her aid soon. The senator currently trying to keep her attention on him is well known for his more….illustrious desires when it comes to women.” The concern in her eyes immediately urges him to spring to action and before she can even finish her full sentence he is off to the rescue.

You know that the man currently speaking to you as if you are just another nobody, who is lucky enough to have been invited to work the celebration taking place is also the same man who not only is a senator, but also well known for demanding personal time with all female personnel and even demanded coruscant guards to remove some women he has used when they became too much of a bother to him afterwards. This time he seems to have set his eyes on you and you are just not having it. “Senator, I must return to my friend now. I apologize for cutting this wonderful conversation short, but if I do not at least spend some time with Senator Amidala this evening, I would be a poor and ungrateful friend.” Though you smile it is obvious even to the senator you only mean the polite refusal to continue the conversation, as much as you refused to dance with him.

“I know you're nothing important in the senate, just a person that Amidala befriended from the lower regions of this planet. You will dance with me, because any offer such as this from the likes of me is an honor and then we will continue our conversation in private.” Just when he reaches for your hand to drag you back, your hand is taken by another man.

As fast as he managed to take your hand before the senator, Tech took the drink from your hand and gave it to another waiter nearby. His arm is already snaked around your waist as he turns you around and walks you to the middle of the room. “I believe you agreed to give me the first dance once you finished your round in the room Y/N. I noticed you were on your way back , so I suggest we make the best of it.

Surprise and gratitude quickly appear and leave your eyes as you smile at the man guiding you away. “Thank you Tech. I almost lost track of time.” The blush on your cheeks as you feel him turn you around to face him brightens when you take him in once more. He looks absolutely dashing in his black suit and light blue dress shirt.

The room's hush hush and now's our moment

Take it in, feel it all and hold it

Eyes on you, eyes on me

We're doing this right

The orchestra plays a slow song as Tech gently moves the two of you around the room. Despite his tall figure and the appearance of a soldier most times, he is absolutely graceful as he leads you in your dance. His hand, warm on the small of your back presses you closer to him while he softly squeezes the hand he holds. Leaning in closer to you his lips almost brush your ears as he whispers. “It seems you needed a rescue. Though from the look you gave that senator, it is highly probable I actually rescued him.” His low chuckle sends a shiver down your spine as he straightens out and swirls you around. “I shall thank Senator Amidala for warning me in time.”

Amidala, your friend. A senator who usually makes her way through all the layers of society and who does her best to help all people. She even spoke to you about clone rights and how to see to it that they would be treated more decently, after she found out that you were one of the people who were strong advocates for clone rights. Soon after that, the two of you struck up a friendship based on mutual respect. She invited you to this evening because of your shared passion for the rights of clones and your contact with many of these men. She felt it might make them feel at ease, seeing a friendly face in the crowd.

Grinning you look up into the brown, bespectacled eyes of your hero of the evening. “I will thank her for sending me a hero.”

The music stops and you are ready to step away from Tech so that he can walk back to his brothers. Tech however is not moving an inch and he is not letting go of your hand. Pulling you back in at the same moment another song is started, Tech gently guides you in another dance.

“You know, people will stare at us. They might even start to talk about us.” A gentle blush on your cheeks, you whisper to him.

'Cause lovers dance when they're feeling in love

Spotlight's shining

It's all about us

It's oh, oh, all

About uh, uh, us

And every heart in the room will melt

This is a feeling you never felt dry

It's oh, oh, all about us

Tech has always been kind to you from the moment you met. His brothers, all with their own sense of humor and fun way of flirting quickly became good friends of yours. Tech as well, though you also developed a crush on him rather fast. His fast knowledge of pretty much everything and witty remarks only served to make you fall harder for the man. And now here you were in his arms, dancing to beautiful music, still a little insecure on whether or not you should let him know how you feel.

Without paying any attention to the room, Tech moves the two of you a bit more to the edges of the room. No longer swirling around with all the other couples on the floor, the two of you softly sway on the sidelines. Still in a warm embrace of his arm around you and his hand softly holding yours, he looks down at you and smiles. “People always find reasons to talk about others. It is in their nature to try and find common ground so as to divert attention from themselves at such events.”

You sigh softly and move the hand that was resting on his shoulder all this time to his face. Carefully brushing his cheek. “You could just tell me to let them watch you know?”

A chuckle escapes him as he leans in to you and his lips brush yours. “It's all about us anyway.

When he moves back, he pulls you in closer against him, your head against his chest, his arms around you as you keep swaying to the music. Nobody else in the room exists at that moment, but the two of you.

“All about us.” you whisper, a promise for the rest of the evening and all the days still to come.

@loth-wolffe @catbustours @reluctant-mandalore @nahoney22 @hellothere-generalangsty @allamarisss

[unmaskedagain]

How about... No!

Yeah, this one was weird for me. It’s started out strong but near the near the end It kind of fell flat. Throughout this I sprinkled in Quotes from one of my favorite shows; I’d watched it every time it was on. Fans will recognize it. Its ugly betty.

           When Marinette lost all her friends, she didn’t break down like she thought she would. Or how anyone in class thought she would. There were no tears, no apologies, no anger or frustration. It had happened one sunny Tuesday afternoon, in the middle of class, of month after school started back up again.

           Alya, the new class president, had announced in the middle of class after Miss Bustier had stepped out for a moment, that Marinette was an awful bully; she wasn’t the girl they knew anymore, and so… “We’re not your friends anymore.”

“You all feel this way?” Marinette asked.

           There were a lot of nods, and yes’s.”

“I didn’t hang with Chloe for reason,” Nino glared. “I’m not hanging with Chloe 2.0.”

“Just another disappointing useless male,” Chloe shook her head.

“You’ve been really mean lately,” Rose said softly. “Sorry.”

“Lila only wanted to be friends with you,” Mylene insisted. “You didn’t have to be so nasty!”

           To which Marinette looked at her blankly, shrugged and said, “Okay.”

           That was it.

           The other students in class didn’t know what to do or say. They had prepared themselves to argue and defend their decision. But what could they say to “okay.”

Nathaniel looked at the rest of the students like there were stupid, “I’m still your friend, Marinette.” He got glares.

Adrien nodded, “We’re still friends,” he assured. “Though,” he glared at the rest of class, “Some people should definitely lose my number.”

The statement got shocked looks. No one expected Adrien to side with Marinette. At worst, when the lines were drawn, they expected him to be neutral. They didn’t know the boy as well as they thought. Lila looked dismayed as she had thought the boy to be a pushover.

“I wouldn’t mind a permanent truce,” Chloe offered. The Bluenette and the blond’s had entered into a truce that had slowly turned into a good friendship. “Maybe i’ll take over the spot as the new bestie.”

           Marinette snorted.

           Adrien glared at his oldest friend, his hair raising on ends; if Alya was officially out of the way that meant technically he had the number one friend spot. He wouldn’t lose it to Chloe. That wasn’t fair! “It’s taken!”

           Chloe smirked, “For now!”

           Marinette smiled. She would be just fine.

           The class, however, wouldn’t.

           It took them three days to realize that ending their friendship with Marinette had consequences.

           The first time was when in the middle of lunch, Rose let out a happy scream, “Prince Ali is coming back to town. He’s invited me to a fundraising gala for the children’s hospital. This Saturday.” The other girls immediately launched into excited screams.

           The four, who had been exiled from the rest of the class, ignored them. Mostly because they were all going to the gala as a well. Adrien because of his father. Nathaniel because his art was being displayed. Chloe because she was Chloe. And Marinette because her great aunt was hosting it.

           When four was the first to make it back to class and sat in their seats in the very back; talking amicably, they barely noticed the other students come in. But they did notice Rose when she ran to the back of the class with a huge smile on her face.

“Marinette!” Rose chirped. “I need a dress for the gala; something formal. Something sparkly.”

           Marinette nodded, “Have your measurements changed.”

Rose shook her head quickly, her eyes still sparkly as she daydreamed about dancing with Prince Ali.

Marinette opened her bag and pulled out her brochure that Chloe had insisted she get to hand out. It included examples of dresses she previously made and prices for things like dresses, skirt, suits, anything. It had her phone number, her website information; everything. Adrien had gotten tips from his dad about how he started out and relayed them to Marinette. It made her feel like a real designer.

She handed the brochure to Rose, who took it absentmindedly. “Ok, then it would be about $475. $550 if you want the full princess look.”

“Wha-What?” Rose asked confused.

           The other students in class looked confused as well apart from Adrien, Chloe, and Nathaniel who bore smirks.

“The dress you’re commissioning,” Marinette said slowly. “The estimated price for a rushed custom dress is between $475 and $550. It would’ve been a bit cheaper but you’re ordering it at the last minute. All my prices are in the brochure; standard for everyone. I would actually just purchase one the designs on my website; it would be less expensive than having me create something specifically for you.”

           Rose looked at the brochure, her mind struggling to process. “But you-you always make my dress for free!”

“I didn’t really like to,” Marinette shrugged. “But you guys never really asked you just demanded; like you did when you walked in.” Rose looked a bit ashamed; because yes, she did just demand. “Materials are really expensive. Every free dress or any custom piece I gave out I had to increase the price for the rest of my commissions. It never seemed fair to my other customers. Which worked for me because I opened up my own design studio and office. MDC Designs.” It was in a richer part of Paris; in an unused part of an office building. It had tons of natural light and an amazing view; plus it was private. “Though for some reason, the high price just attracted more people. But you were my friends so I did it anyway.  Now we’re not friends so I don’t have to anymore.”

“Rich people,” Chloe explained. “The more expensive something is, the more they want it.” The blond had become Marinette’s social media manager and business manager as well. Because of her MDC was becoming Instagram famous and had featured clothes on various runaways. She always hired all the models.

           A devastated look appeared on Rose’s dress; she couldn’t afford a fancy new dress. She didn’t have enough money saved up for one. She never thought she’d have to save money for a dress. Marinette always made anything she wanted.

“And you wonder why no one likes you,” Alya hissed that the two girls.

           Marinette leaned back in her chair, “I could make an effort to be liked but I rather be hated than inconvienced.”

“You don’t need her, Rose!” Alix snapped. “We’ll find you much better dress than she could ever make.”

           Alya crossed her arms, “And it won’t look as tacky.”

“Good for you,” Marinette said happily, and went back to talking with her friends.

           While shopping for Rose’s dress, the girls decided to pull up Marinette’s website so they could make fun of outfits. Unfortunately, they were hard pressed to find anything wrong with the fabulous dresses. Even Lila spotted several she wanted for herself.

Rose didn’t find a better dress than the ones Marinette’s website. At least not one for a price she could afford. She ended up re-wearing an elegant blue dress Marinette had given her the year before for a dance.

Though she had stumbled when The Emily Gilmore, world around philanthropist millionaire, brought her niece on stage and it turned around to be Marinette. Marinette wearing the most gorgeous silver dress Rose, and most of the party guests, had ever seen.

“That is a friend of yours from school, yes?” Prince Ali asked. “I didn’t know there was a Gilmore in Paris. They contribute much to my Go-Green Projects. Will you please introduce me?”

           Rose froze. Because no, she wasn’t Marinette’s friend. And it was highly doubtful she’d get anywhere close to Marinette.

“They’re not friends actually,” Chloe said swooping in. “A bit of a falling out. I’m rather close with Marinette though. I’d love to introduce you now if you’re ready. Marinette was the one to get the Gilmore foundation to really take an interest in Going Green. They are always looking for new ideas.”

           Prince Ali gave a quick look at Rose, “I’m sure it will not take long. Is it okay with you if I go?” Rose forced a happy smile on her face and nodded. “Thank you!”

           Rose was forced to watch Prince Ali offer Chloe his arm.

“I’m surprised you did bring Lila Rossi?” Chloe drawled as they walked away, leaving Rose, alone in the middle of party where she hardly knew anyone. “I’ve heard so much about her own contributions to your Go-green projects.”

“Who is Lila Rossi?” She heard Prince Ali asked. And just like that, a little bit of Rose’s world came crashing down.

           It was two days later, before the first bell rang, Alya rushed to Marinette’s desk, with big smile on her face and hope in her eyes. “Did you see the new heroes?” She asked excitedly. “BrightRoar and Killer Bee!” She shot a mean look at Chloe. “I guess you got replaced for being such a lousy hero.” She turned back to the bluenette. “I need another interview with Ladybug, like stat! When can you set it up?”

“I can’t,” Marinette said and went back to pulling out her school books for the day.

“Of course you can,” Alya insisted. “You always do it! You’re the one who got me my first interview with Ladybug and everything.”

           Marinette rolled her eyes. Yet another demand. “No, I can’t.”

           Chloe tapped her perfectly manicured nails on the desk, “What my best Mari (Adrien growled, “I will end you, Chloe!” Marinette was his best friend. But the other blond had been slowly invading Marinette’s room; leaving clothes and shows. A blanket on the top bunk though she knew Adrien had called dips.) is saying is that it’s not that she can’t, it’s that she won’t.”

“Why not?” Alya stomped her foot. “I need the deets on this now if I’m going to scoop Aurore and her BugOut site.”

“You’re not friends anymore,” Chloe taunted. “Why would she help you?”

“I-well, it just!” Alya struggled to find the right words to say. Because she never considered that Marinette wouldn’t want to help with her blog anymore. Or that she only did it because they were friends.

           Marinette sighed, “No. I mean I really I can’t. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t even if I could.” She told her ex-friend and the other classmates listening in. “Ladybug only gave you interviews because we were friends. She always thought you were a bit much. When I told her we weren’t friends anymore, she decided to not work with the Ladyblog anymore.”

“That’s a lie!” Alya yelled.

“Then why don’t you ask Ladybug herself,” Chloe told her.

“I will!”

           While Ladybug was patrolling that night it was to no one’s surprise that Alya stood of a roof top of a building and waved the hero down.

“Do you need help?” Ladybug asked the girl kindly once she was on the roof.

“I need an interview!” Alya said, her phone was out and she was live streaming. “Why did you replace Queen Bee? Is BrightRoar a lion or a tiger? Are they permanent?”

           Ladybug looked puzzled, “I thought Marinette told you already. I won’t work with you or the Ladyblog anymore.”

           Alya stepped back, shocked. “What? Why? I thought she was lying.”

“What did she tell you?”

“That you thought I was a bit much,” Alya growled darkly. “That I only got the interviews because I was her friend. Which was a lie; I got them because I’m an awesome reporter. And she said I wouldn’t get anymore interviews.”

           Ladybug shook her head, “Marinette left out a lot of what I said,” At this Alya’s expression turned smug. “I did say you were a bit much. But I also said you’re blog had become a tabloid full of incorrect information that I just couldn’t support anymore. It keeps getting worse every day; I swear if I have one more person asking me about some girl named Lila Rossi, I’ll lose it. I don’t know a Lila Rossi, and she is not my best friend. Also, Chat Noir and I are not and will be never be dating; stop insisting that we love each other. I told Marinette, you were a bad journalist who needed to learn to check your sources and cite where your information. I should’ve stopped dealing with you a long time ago. Honestly, I thought working with you was a bad idea from the start. But I owed Marinette a favor, you are her friend. Oh sorry, I meant you were her friend.”

           Alya stood stunned as the words washed over her.

“I wish Marinette wasn’t so nice sometimes,” Ladybug sighed, though Marinette was practically dancing on the inside. “She should’ve told you what I really said.  I guess she just didn’t want to be mean. Good luck with everything, Alya.” And with that Ladybug swung away.

           It took Alya another five minutes to realize she was still live streaming.

           Alya thought she’d wake up to the entire world talking about her encounter with Ladybug but they weren’t. Sure there were dozens and dozens of complaints accusing her of lying to them but nothing to extreme.

           Her friends comforted her as soon as she got to class. Alya barely noticed to down in the dumps. Lila had assured her that Ladybug was only trying to protect her which was why she pretended not to know the Italian girl. This relieved one of Alya’s concerns. Still, It was a hard pill to swallow but she realized that technically she owed all of the Ladyblog’s success to Marinette who had helped arrange multiple interviews and convinced Ladybug to work with her in the first place. All because Alya was Marinette’s friend. The Ladyblog was doomed.

           Said Bluenette had walked passed Alya’s desk without so much as glance in her direction, instead talking amicably to Chloe.

           A few hours later during the middle of a history lesson, every phone in class starting pinging rapidly with new notification to the point where Bustier instructed them to turn off their phones completely.

           Bad idea.

“Bugout posted an interview with the entire Miraculous team,” Rose said excitedly.

           Everyone was watching the interview within seconds, almost everyone Chloe watched Alya instead; drawing a suspicious look from Adrien. Bustier just sighed and got her phone out as well. To their surprise it wasn’t just four heroes, it was six.

           Aurore gracefully interviewed Ladybug and Chat Noir about the coming and goings of everyday hero life. Then ask the big question; who were the new heroes.

“They are the new permanent members of Team Miraculous!” Ladybug announced with a smile on her face. “Killer Bee,” Chloe preened. She had to change her name and costume but she got to keep being a hero. “BrightRoar.” Nathaniel fought not to blush. He still couldn’t believe that Marinette chose him. “Viperion!” Luka had been thrilled to be offered a place on the team. “And Renard blanche.” Aurore had been given the fox miraculous and had created an illusion of the new fox hero so she could do the interview.

“What happened to Rena Rouge and Carapace?” Aurore asked.

“Permanently retired,” Killer Bee sniped. “They’re actions outside the mask were… untasteful. They showed themselves to be unworthy of being heroes. They were fired! At least Queen Bee got to resign with her dignity.”

           Alya dropped her phone and rushed out of the room in tears; Nino and a few of her other friends following her. Nearly everyone in class thought it was because Aurore got the interview she had been wanted but four knew the truth.

“let’s take a quick break,” Bustier said softly, already mentally preparing for another akuma attack.

“That was mean.” Adrien told Chloe.

“No that was deserved,” Chloe stated. “Alya tried to get Max to hack into the MDC website and ruin it. I’m lucky Claude runs helped with our internet security or we’d have been screwed. Mean, was me taking your little Cat Bed and tossing it on the pullout. And replacing with it with a comforter set worthy of a Queen.”

           Adrien’s eyes widened and he rushed out of the room, probably to Marinette’s to defend his territory. Honestly, Marinette thought, he was behaving more and more like a cat every day.

           Marinette gave Chloe a look, “You’re still as horrible and evil as the day that Satan himself placed you in your mother’s arms.”

           Chloe preened, “Oh, darling, that’s sweet.”

           When Mylene got an amazing idea for a short, she immediately went to Nino to ask if he could direct. He said yes. While in Class, they immediately started making plans and cast roles and assigning jobs to the other members of class. . “We can start filming this weekend.”

“Marinette, you’ll do costumes again.” Nino said quickly. “And food! We need food.”

“No.” Marinette said back.

           Nino was so busy making plans that it took a minute to process what she said. He looked up shock. “No? What do you mean no?

“I’m too busy with other commissions to take on your project,” Marinette said easily. “Plus even if I don’t design the clothes myself, there is a consultant fee; not to mention contracts to sign.”

           Alya glared, “Contracts? For what? Its a school project!”

“No, it’s not.” Adrien snapped back. “It has nothing to do with school. We’re not being graded or anything.” He reminded them. “Marinette has a brand now. She has to protect it and her clients. That means non-disclosure agreements, security agreements. A contract will lay out just what she is responsible for and what she can bill you for. It keep that waters clear.”

           Mylene frowned, “We don’t need all that.”

“You might not,” Adrien said defensively. “But people are starting to recognize MDC all around the world. A contract will stop you from using her name to boost your movie. Or maybe even stop you mentioning her in the credits all together.”

           Marinette nodded, “Besides on my website and on the brochure on the class board, it clearly states for big projects like this; I need at least a three month warning. I’m swamped.”

           Nino wanted to point out there Marinette always made time before. But he remembered Marinette saying not too long ago that she always made time for her friends. And they weren’t friends anymore.

           In the next few weeks and months, the class got used to hearing the word No from Marinette.

           Alix asked about getting a banner. Marinette said No.

           Alya asked about getting food for the bake sale like always. Marinette told her she’d have to make an order at the bakery and pay for it in advance.

           Kim needed a scarf for his mom. Marinette gave him her brochure.

           Birthday party planning. Sorry, Marinette no longer provided that service; please review the brochure if further clarification is needed.

           So to get back at the Bluenette, the class got her, and Chloe and Nathaniel, excluded from the Class field trips and class parties on the grounds that Marinette caused too much tension in the class. Lila insisted that Adrien would come around.

            The four retaliated by no longer helping with any of the fundraising or contributing their own money. If they couldn’t go on the oh so special class trips, then why should they help pay for it? Unfortunately for the class, they had forgotten that a majority of the money donated came from what Marinette raised/Donated and what Chloe contributed.

           Bustier’s class trips went from the envy of the school to “oh god, why are they on a farm?” Really fast.

           And for every “amazing” trip the class went on and for every party they had, the four hosted their own events that ended up the talk of the entire school.

           It took until the end of the school year for Lila to be finally be exposed.

           Chloe, Marinette, and Aurore were having a mini spa day in Marinette’s room. Their faces were covered in green mud masks and their hair was in curlers and their wore pajamas.

           When Adrien burst in the room, he screamed, “Akumas!”

           Marinette through a pillow at his face, “That’s not funny, catboy.”

“Catman,” Adrien corrected with a laugh.

           Marinette stated back, “Please! I’m more man than you’ll ever be.”

“Nino texted.” He kept forgetting to block his old friend’s number. “Dude! Lila’s a liar! Alya’s losing it.” He read the text of his phone. “Then five minutes later. Man, we screwed up big time, huh? A minute later. Sorry.”

“About time,” Aurore shook her head. “For a self-proclaimed amazing journalist it took Alya way too long to figure Lila out.”

“She didn’t want to believe it,” Marinette shrugged. “She’s not big on admitting when she’s wrong. Or when she’s gone too far. I admittedly enabled her for a long time.”

“Everyone did,” Adrien frowned.

           Chloe rolled her eyes, “The class is going to come groveling back on Monday.”

“Let them,” Marinette narrowed her eyes. “I’m done with fake friends.”

           The girls nodded. The low sound of small click got their attention. All eyes went to Adrien who still had his phone out.

           Chloe stood up, “I swear, Adrien, if you took a picture of me on your cell phone; I will kill you and eat you.”

           Adrien held his ground, “Surrender the top bunk or I post it on Instagram.”

           Aurore blinked, and then looked at Marinette confused, “They know this isn’t their room right?”

           Marinette face-palmed, “I don’t even know anymore.”

           Monday, as Chloe predicted, the class did come groveling back.

           Marinette, Chloe, Adrien, and Nathaniel walked into class only to see that everyone had rearraged the seats again to what it was originally before Lila came.

           The bluenette nodded, “Time to get serious!”

           Chloe and Adrien’s expressions turned cold. Chloe cast a look at the still friendly looking redhead, “Nathaniel, put on your game face.”

           Nathaniel quickly tried to look stern.

“Not your gay face,” Chloe hissed. “You’re game face.”

“They’re the same face,” Nathaniel whispered.

           Marinette crossed her arms, “What’s going on here?”

           Alya frowned, “This is our way of saying sorry. We should have never believe Lila. The rotten liar turned us against you.”

“No!” Marinette shook her head. “Saying sorry is saying sorry. And don’t blame Lila for you chose to do.”

           Chloe marched to the back of the class, and glared at Rose and Juleka, “You’re in our seats!”

           Rose tried not to panic, “It’s not your seat anymore. You’re up front with Sabrina again.”

“Let’s try this again…” Chloe leaned down, and glared hard. “MOVE!” She yelled.

           The girls scrambled out of the chairs.

           With a huff, the remaining three walked to the back of the class without another word.

           The four sat down and glared at the rest of the class.

“You guys can come on the class trip with us now!” Kim offered.

              Nathaniel snorted, “Yeah, i don’t do camping.”

“We couldn’t any way,” Chloe said. “While you’re camping for a week. We’ll be in England for our own class trip.”

              She got envious looks.

“We can come with!” Alix smiled. “It’ll be a blast.”

“No,” Marinette said. “We had to save up all year for this trip. We already made reservations. You can’t come. I wouldn’t  want you to anyway. It’s too much tension. Why don’t you go find Lila? I’m sure she’d take you back.”

“Girl, didn’t you hear us?” Alya said. “We’re sorry!”

“Oh I know you’re sorry,” Marinette said coldly, “I just don’t know why you think that matters.”

[kominum]

rewatching old sailor moon and thought of like... disgruntled tuxedo mask!corpse but with unrequited love because i’m a glutton for angst

wc: ~2.2k 

warnings: death of a minor character, implicit knowledge of sailor moon lore, modern twist, unedited

please send in ideas you might have that i could write short blurbs for! this was honestly fun to write. 

It’s a scratch he can’t itch. It’s what has him waking up in cold sweats, confused and moderately annoyed that his hard-earned sleep has been so rudely interrupted. He hates the cape, he hates the itchy suit, he abhors the top hat – and the only things he doesn’t really hate are his baton and endless supply of darkened roses.

The first time he transformed, he was half-asleep and struggling to understand why he was speeding down the highway and parking two blocks away from some random back alley. His pain was relatively dulled, which was surprising, and his body suddenly possessed a world of fighting skills that felt foreign yet familiar. All he could recognize was a slightly disheveled woman cursing and just trying her best against some odd form of demon spawn, and before he knew it, he’d thrown down a dark purple rose and engaged in combat. Once said woman found an opening, she took off her headband/tiara, performed a throw that would put professional frisbee players to shame, and the monster disintegrated into dust.

“Jesus Christ,” he panted, body hunched over and hands on his knees. “What the fuck was that?”

“More like who the fuck are you?”

“Fuck if I know,” he muttered and dusted himself off.  

“What’s with your get-up anyways?” She failed to hide her snickering. “You’re 3 decades behind.”

“Do I look like I want to fight in a suit? Plus, you’re fighting in some rendition of a schoolgirl uniform.” Her black thigh-high boots were killer, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction.

“You should’ve seen what it was before, but I was able to make some changes. Good heads-up for you and—”

“Sailor Moon, are you okay?!”

Oh. So she’s got a talking cat, too. What in fresh hell was going on? Did he take something? But also—“Your name is Sailor Moon?”

“We’re working on the name change,” she grumbled, bending down to let said feline jump up her arm and settle on her shoulder. “Anyways, uh…thanks. I was kind of in a bind, but I’m usually not I swear. Good timing, I guess?”

“If that’s what you wanna call it.” But she was already in the wind, hopping from roof to roof with no inhibitions, and left him completely dumbfounded.

His silly attire dissolved back into his previous clothing as he ambled back towards his car, thought not exactly at his own will. But he shrugged, slid into the car seat, and dialed the only person he could think of who would readily pick up at this ungodly hour of…2:37AM. That was just the start, and he can’t tell if things went downhill from there.

-

He should backtrack.

He met you almost two years ago at a hospital.

You had been waiting anxiously for your boyfriend to come out of surgery after being in a bad car accident, biting your nails, occasionally pacing back and forth, smoothing your hands worriedly against your jeans, and gnawing your bottom lip to death. It was midday, sometime after lunch, and he’d come in for some routine checkup he can’t remember what for now, and sat a few seats away from you in the tiny hospital coffee shop. He’s no therapist or expert, but he highly doubted that any caffeine would alleviate your anxiety. Yet you sat there with two to-go cups and a granola bar wrapper, and something told him to stick around for now.

He’s never been one for a lot of small talk, but you looked to be about his age and no one else was with you. Tragedy tasted most bitter when alone, and some force of the universe told him to at least say something, anything. So he stuffed his hands into his hoodie and shuffled awkwardly to your table, tentatively asking a, “Hey, uh…is everything okay?”

You’d looked up at him with wild eyes on the verge of tears, heart battering against your chest, and the only intelligible thing that left your mouth was a “Huh?”

And he’d casted a gentle grin, eyes laced with a mixture of pity and concern, and asked again his first question. “My boyfriend’s in surgery. He got in a bad accident. There’s um…roughly two hours left, I think.”

“And you thought coffee would make it better?” He jutted his chin towards your large cups.

“Hot chocolate,” you chuckled. “I’m not keen on torturing myself like that, not now at least.”

“Well, I’ve got an appointment soon but I should be done before his surgery’s over…want me to come check up on you?”

Dumbfounded was the best way to describe your expression, and he was so close to retracting his offer before you gave him one of the most thankful smiles he’d seen in many years. “I’d really appreciate that.”

He nodded. “Sounds good then. Give me a sec.”

At the counter, he paid for another cup of hot chocolate and added in a chocolate chip cookie for good measure before bringing it back to you. “I hear chocolate helps.”

“Thank you, again. Go, don’t want to make you late.”

But an hour and a half later in the waiting area outside surgery, the doctor came out with a solemn expression, and you all but collapsed into the plastic chairs, tears leaking like waterfalls from your eyes. Part of him wanted to bail and go because there wasn’t much he could do, but it wouldn’t be right to leave you to drive home now. He wanted to make sure that you were calmed down, all cried out, and breathing properly so you could at least operate a vehicle safely.

The same unknown force had him offering you his number in case you needed anyone to talk to, yet the conversation sat empty for weeks until curiosity and guilt ate at him. He tapped out a message, deleting it, then another one, more deleting, before he settled on a plain, “It’s the guy from the hospital. I know it’s been a while but…how are you?”

Your reply was almost instantaneous, to which he worried if he’d accidentally woken you up at 4:13AM. First, it’s a casual, “hey, thanks for checking up on me! I’m doing okay,” but he knew better. And the other shoe dropped in the form of a simple, “I miss him.”

It’s a quiet, heartwarming friendship. You know nothing specific about him – he’s incredibly vague on any identifying information. Hell, you’d be willing to bet that the name at the hospital was a fake one. Nevertheless, he’s one of your closest friends. You know he mainly works online, has a lot of trouble sleeping, is chronically ill and has a number of medical conditions, his general disposition and feelings on things, but overall, just wonderfully easy to talk to.

Yet something just feels wrong about falling in love with him. It’s a horrid combination of guilt and disbelief. Are you rebounding? Are you subconsciously searching for your dead ex-boyfriend? Are you so desperate for romantic connections that you’ve twisted yourself into believing you love a man that you’ve seen fewer times than the number of fingers you have?

You come to peace with it when his custom ringtone chimes softly on your nightstand in the middle of the night. Rain or shine, stars or none, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him. Nothing has ever woken you up so quickly, not even alarms on interview days. “Hello?”

“Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Kind of, but it’s fine. What’s up? Wait,” you interrupt yourself and listen carefully to your speaker. “Are you…driving?”

“…yeah.”

“Should I ask from or to where?”

“I…honestly don’t know. Something felt off, felt like I had to get out of my place and just fucking do something. So uh, I drove somewhere and just started driving back home.”

You curl up under your sheets on your side and plug your earbuds into the phone. “Well, did it get rid of whatever you were feeling?”

“I think so? Honestly couldn’t fucking tell you. Still really bizarre to me.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you murmur. “Well, feel free to call me whenever you feel like that again.”

“I don’t wanna fuck up your sleep schedule though. Feel like it’ll happen more often than I’d like.”

“How about this – if I don’t pick up, it’ll just be my nice way of saying ‘fuck off, too busy sleeping right now’?”

A soft, deep chuckle warms your chest and cheeks. “Sounds good. So how’ve you been?”

“Well, you know…”

It’s the same night that you think you might have a chance at love again. You fall asleep with his voice weaving stories and tales in your ears and wake up to a message that says, “Wow, didn’t know I was so fucking boring that it made you snore so loud.” The hope that creeps through your veins is dangerous and thrums urgently whenever you get a call or message from him.

And as bright as a star, it all comes crashing down in a firey blaze.

You crash into a girl as mysterious and serenely beautiful as the moon with a talking black cat one afternoon. She exudes a gorgeous amount of confidence in her stance as she protects you from a creature that looks like it’s out of a horror video game, and you can only stare in awe. The cat from before yells instructions at you, throwing what looks like a pen with a red cap on it and you blindly follow them. Your subsequent red heels feel incredibly comfortable and you can’t remember the last time you wore a skirt – but there’s no time to ponder as you push the girl you were admiring out of harm’s way and somehow manage to direct fire at them from your fingertips.

The monster burns and screams in agony before getting hit with what looks like a glowing frisbee. Your savior wipes the dust off her outfit before extending a hand out to you, “Welcome to the club, Sailor Mars.”

Say what now?

“There’s gotta be a better name than that,” is the first thing you say as you get pulled up. She throws her head back and lets out a charmingly obnoxious laugh. “We’ll work on changing it. I can tell we’re gonna be good friends.”

“Her name ended up being a rip-off of my name,” the cat quips and receives a scowl from the supposed plagiarizer. “I’m Luna, and this is Sailor Moon, or Lunaria she says.”

“You gotta admit, that’s cutting it a little close,” you agree and Lunaria flips the bird. “How the fuck am I going to change Sailor Mars? Also, can I do anything about this outfit?”

“We can go shopping tomorrow for sure. Luna and I can fill you on everything and – oh, before I forget, there’s a guy—”

“So it looks like you don’t need my help?”

You freeze in your steps, startled by the familiar baritone approaching you two. He was involved in all this?

“I told you, I don’t need your help—”

“Is she new?”

“Yeah, which means, we really don’t need your help. She’s got actual fire power. Literal fire.”

“That’s pretty fucking cool,” he accepts. “Good to meet you.”

You spot a set of veiny fingers that appears in your peripheral and you tentatively turn in his direction, hoping that your hair will obstruct your face as much as possible. “Same,” your throat manages to squeak out as his warm hand engulfs yours in a firm handshake.

“Get out of here, Corpse,” Lunaria chides and lets go of you to push a finger to his chest.

“I’m only here because you fucking needed saving. Now you’ve got another person dragged in.”

“I told you, I’m not some fucking damsel in distress,” she hisses. The mirth in his visible eye only causes the infuriation to grow and swirl more vigorously in her gut.

You watch the exchange from the sidelines as Corpse’s teasing only increases and provokes Lunaria further, disheartened that you’ve never heard him laugh so much in one exchange before. Dread from deep within your veins begins to freeze around your heart, something so set and undeniable that causes your brain to realize that falling in love with him was a mistake. It was the kind of mistake that would strike you with pain for years and the intense foreshadowing has you spinning on your heel and bounding through an alleyway. Your outfit shifts back to what you’d been wearing before, the characteristic weight of your phone in your back pocket seeming heavier than ever.

You call him that night, holding in a deep breath when the dial tone breaks midway. A rustle, a breath, and then, “Hey what’s up?”

Oh god, you scream to yourself as your heart shatters at the bottom of your chest. His voice, again, cannot be misconstrued as anyone else’s – the inflection, the tone, the volume, everything belonged to him.

And the universe told you then and there that he, undoubtedly, belonged to her.

[depressedacadamia]

How do you passive aggresively say fuck you in flower? Part II

Summary: It seems that Nico and Will just cant stop running into each other

A/N: FIRST WEEK OF EXAMS OVER, ONLY ONE WEEK TO GO!! Unfortunately, I am not able to write a lot due to tedious revision but I wrote this part 2 a while ago and thought that today would be the perfect time to release it! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy and comment! <3 from me!

Read on AO3           Read Part I on tumblr

They were not expecting to see each other the next day at Uni. In fact, Will was so shocked, he had to pause and squint at the raven haired boy to check that he was the same as the customer 2 days ago. What was this dude doing here? This was the medical college!

Oh shit, what if he’s a new med student or a transfer student?

However, while it seemed that Will had noticed Nico, it seemed that Nico had not noticed Will; he couldn’t have been more appalled as he was ignored and he simply watched in despair as the italian jogged past him without a moment's pause. Not even a Hey, you’re the guy I made out with yesterday, right?

Will was used to having all his past hookups follow him like a sheep and sure, he hadn’t really hooked up with Nico but he was for some reason expecting some sort of reaction from him. Was he that forgettable?

He felt someone dig their elbow into his ribs and was about to shout What the fuck before he realised that Calypso was elbowing him.

“Calypso what!” He winced as he rubbed at his side, still in pain from Calypso’s pointy elbows.

“Do you think I should invite Leo to the dorm party?”

Will’s head perked up. “ Leo? Leo valdez?”

“Yes Leo Valdez, who else?” Calypso sighed.

“I thought you saw him making out with some guy at another party and then proceeded to pretend you never liked him in the first place-”

“- Which is true! I never liked Leo in the first place, he was just a friend!” Calypso desperately defended.

“Everytime someone says they’re just a friend and not they’re just my friend, you know that they’ve crushed on them.”

“Shut up.” Calypso whacked her bag over Will’s head, ignoring his shouts of protests.

Will’s hands instinctively went over his head, tucking his chin in to prevent himself from gaining any brain damage from Calypso. “ Hey, Hey! I work for you, little shit!”

“Exactly, I can fire you any second I want to!” Calypso boasted before remembering something. “ Wasn’t there a request that came in on Saturday? Something like fuck you?”

Will could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. “ Uh, yeah, maybe. I don’t really remember.”

Calypso recognised that tone. That tone was the same tone used during the walk of shame, that tone meant things that she did not want in her shop. Turning her head only halfway, she gave Will a grimace, praying that it hadn’t happened again.

“William Andrew Solace, Please please tell me that you didn’t have sex with another client in my shop!”

“For once,” Will smirked. “ For once, I can actually say that I didn’t.”

Calypso sighed in relief, all the tension in her body simply oozing out all at once. Her shoulders dropped and the tense expression on her face was replaced by her regular small smile that she constantly wore, causing her to seem quite shy, which technically she was.

“You know, you seriously have some nerve Callie, hitting your employees like that. That could be harassment. What happened to the shy girl who could tell me the latin name for any plant out there?”

“Just because I don’t hook up with every good looking breathing thing, does not mean I’m shy.” She put her hands on her hips and took several confident steps while swaying her hips before hitting a hard chest with a thud and feeling the hard floor on her butt. Frustrated, she huffed and without even looking at the perpetrator, began to shout,

“Are you blind or stupid? Look where you’re going for fuck sake.” She ignored the offered hand and got up herself, brushing her scraped hands on her pants.

It was only when Will nudged her, not very discreetly may I add, that she noticed that it was Leo Valdez who was offering the outstretched hand and another very scary looking dude standing by Leo. However, something about him seemed familiar- from the shape of his body to his hair and in particular his jawline. She remembered seeing it somewhere.

Fuck, that was the guy Leo was making out with at that party. She realised.

Simultaneously, Will was thinking- Fuck, that was Nico di Angelo.

“Sorry Leo, Calypso,” Will turned to her, completely avoiding Nico. “ Do you have anything you’d like to say to Leo?”

Claypso gave a bitter look to Will before remebering that Leo fucking Valdez was standing infront of her and she had essentialy told him to fuck off. She had to fight the blush rising to the tip of her ears and could only manage to muster a small pipsqueak of ‘sorry’ while looking down at the floor and having her face curtained by her chestnut hair.

Unexpectedly, she felt a hand move the hair out of her face and slip and finger underneath her chin and tilt it up slightly.

“The least you could do while apologising is look at him,” Nico snarled, standing off to the side, watching as Leo brushed her hair out of the way. Leo turned his head to raise an eyebrow that meant Not cool dude before looking back at Calypso, his eyes warm and his smile generous.

“Sorry about him, he’s running low on social interaction juice. Are you okay there?”

Calypso thought she could feel herself gaping- the worst part was that her little shit of a friend Will pointed it out.

“Close your mouth Callie, you’ll get flies. It’s impolite to stare as well,” Will drawled, his eyes still glued away from Nico. Leo glanced at Calypso’s injured hands, the small scrapes and the little cuts across her palms. His frown was cute, with his eyebrows scrunching up and his eyes pooled with concern as he took her hands in his.

“Oh, Dios mio. I’m so sorry- will you forgive me if I clean these up for you?” Leo held her hands gently, as to not hurt her.

Will butted in before Calypso could respond. “Uh, no, that’s not necessary. I can help her from here!”

Nico snorted. “ Yeah, the med- student definitely knows how to clean up his cuts.”

Will growled in response, unappreciative of Nico’s sarcasm. Leo’s frown in concern only grew, the small displays of guilt visible across his face. “ Are you sure? It’s the least I could do after causing you to fall.”

“No it's fine-”

“-Will, calm down. Yes, I’ll go, but you also owe me,” Calypso confirmed. You know your worth, you know your worth, She chanted in her head.

“Well well, a person who knows what they want, of course, I am in your debt. After you.” Leo pointed to the pavement ahead as he left Will and Nico alone. Nico looked Will up and down before letting out a little snort and walking off, not before giving him a little shove with his shoulder as he walked past.

Will was officially outraged. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? First of all, he was barging into the medical college when he didn’t even attend it, then he was barging him to the floor without even apologising and then laughing about it!

Will turned around while still on the floor and yelled. “Who the fuck do you think you’re pushing dipshit?”

Will really thought he had the upper hand. He was taller, felt he was relatively stronger and his reflexes were okay. But when he saw Percy Jackson, Jason Grace, Piper Mclean, Hazel Levesque, Frank Zhang and Annabeth Chase all crowd round Nico, he felt he was the most screwed person in the world. Luckily for him, no one except a girl with brown skin and confused expression turned around.

Will recognised her as Piper Mclean- she had been voted most beautiful girl in the entire Uni. It was rumoured for a while that she and Jason were dating but ever since Will spotted Piper blushing near a new girl, he highly doubted it. Piper raised an eyebrow and Will gave a sheepish smile as he tried to get up.

Piper scurried over, giving her friends a quick wave before running over to help Will. He accepted her hand, mainly because he was terrified that she may kill him if he didn’t.

“Did Nico knock you down here?” Piper asked as Will heaved himself up. Her voice was sweet, soft and had some element that convinced Will that he could trust her; however, at the same time, he didn’t want to snitch on Nico. He gave a blatant shrug and hoped for the best.

“Don’t worry, Nico always teases people he likes. Little idiot isn’t good at showing any emotion other than being horny or being an arsehole.”

“Are you sure those are emotions?”

“I take psychology so I sure as hell hope they are,” Piper confessed, laughing a bit. Will finally realised why everybody considered Piper so beautiful- she wasn’t just a pretty person, she was a nice person. She went out of her way to help others.

“I take medicine so I’m going to hope for the best that Nico doesn’t kill me. He avoids like I’m the plague then acts like he’s planning on murdering me in my sleep.”

“Wait.” Piper paused before turning to Will with a manic grin on her face. “Are you the guy from the flower shop who made the fuck you bouquet and slept with Nico?”

“We didn’t sleep together!”

But Piper wasn’t listening, she was calling Hazel over. Will watched as a girl with gorgeous dark skin that glowed in the sunlight and a tattoo over her left hand turned her head ever so slightly. Will realised why they called her Death’s sister.

She was undoubtedly beautiful but her silent aura was terrifying, like it was driving you to death itself. Large brown eyes that invited you into the darkness and hands that looked sculpted for leading one to their doom.

“Hey Hazelnut! This is the guy who stole Nico from Leo! And he made the Fuck you bouquet that Annabeth gave Percy!”

Will could feel his heart pounding as Hazel left the group and walked slowly to Piper and Will, her expression never changing. Suddenly, when she was close enough to throw a punch, she broke out into a childish grin and started squealing.

“So you’re the one who made Percy that bouquet!” Hazel grabbed Will’s hands and started shaking them excitedly. She giggled before giving them back to him.

“What does making Percy this bouquet have to do with any of this? I only knew Nico because we made out like once and then the fucker blanked me.”

“That’s my little brother you're talking about,” Hazel warned. Will instantly felt his eyes widened in horror before apologizing profusely; he remembered what Nico had told him about his sister and how the two of them had grown up. Hazel laughed before telling him that she was only joking and that he should let loose a bit.

“Was Nico with Leo when he ignored you? Leo Valdez? About yee tall, messy brown hair and ink on his overalls?”

“Yes…” Will nodded.

“Ahhh, that explains it. Those two have a complicated history. He was probably ignoring you because he and Leo might have gotten back together. Or maybe he just didn’t want Leo to know that he made out with you. Or…” Piper let out a grin that Will had no desire to learn the true meaning of.

“Maybe he was just using Leo to make you jealous,” Piper explained, very much used to the drama herself between Nico and Leo. If it wasn’t Percy and Annabeth, Nico and Leo were almost always in an argument.

“So…” Will was deadly silent for a second while his rage began to simmer. “ Are you telling me he cheated on that Leo kid with me?”

“ I really hope not,” Hazel grimaced, looking back at her brother.

“The little fucker,” Will muttered under his breath as he pushed past the two ladies and made his way towards the remaining group. He didn’t care that he was going to run into Percy Jackson, whom he’d had an underlying grudge with for as long as he’d been going to school, he was furious.

How dare he cheat with him. What was Will, some slut who ruined relationships? Hell no. Sure, he slept around but he didn’t go around getting into relationships and creating drama. One night stands were his protocol.

“You!” Will pointed at Nico viciously, his finger almost touching Nico’s nose. The rest of the group simply watched with amusement as Piper held back Jason, whispering who exactly Will was.

“You little cheating seething whore! What the fuck dude! You just make out with whoever you buy shit from?”

“I don't remember you having much of a problem with it.” Nico shrugged, only infuriating Will that much more. He was so tempted to just punch him then and there, in front of everybody including 6 of the most intimidating people he’d ever seen.

“I don't remember you mentioning you had a boyfriend before you jumped me,” Will spat. Nico seemed a little shocked at that comment, his lips shaping into a small ‘o’ before he let a sultry smirk spread across his face in a manner that showed he was relatively proud of himself, only pissing Will off so much more.

Why was the damned bastard smirking?

“Huh, what boyfriend?” Nico turned to Annabeth. “ Hey, Annie, do I have a boyfriend?”

Annabeth looked down at her watch for dramatic effect. “As of 4 months, you have been boyfriend free,” She started and only continued when she saw the smug look on Nico’s face. “That said, that does not mean you have been booty call free for said months.”

“What do you mean!” Nico cried.

“Oh shut it Nico, everyone knows that you and Leo have been playing each other’s booty call for ages now. Just end it and go out with the florist dude,” Frank scoffed.

“Or don’t! The florist dude sounds like a real ass!” Percy cut in, desperate to not let Nico go out with his lifelong nemesis, William Andrew Solace.

“Oh look, it’s Perseus,” Will taunted. Percy felt himself going red and the entire group went quiet. Will looked around, wondering why everyone was silent.

“Oh, you guys don’t know?” Will smirked, looking directly at Percy, the knowledge on the tip of his tongue. “ That’s what everybody called Percy in middle school, after we learnt the myth of P-”

The rest of the sentence was muffled as Will felt a hand wrap itself around his mouth. He looked up and saw the sea green eyes that read Shut the fuck up . Will, feeling nostalgia from this certain situation, smirked and stuck his tongue out, licking Percy’s hands, eliciting a yelp of disgust from Percy.

“Dude! Why do you always do that! Every fucking time I’m trying to shut you up, you pull shit like this!”

“You’re telling me that wasn’t the first time you tried to ‘shut him up’?” Nico and Annabeth both asked, hostility floating in their voices. Will gave a jolly smile at Percy who groaned and wiped his hands on Will’s shirt, muttering ‘gross’ under his breath. Will shoved Percy who proceeded to make a face back.

“How do you two know each other?” Frank asked, completely confused before Hazel went up on her tiptoes and began whispering in Frank's ear while he nodded along.

Nico, sick of Will’s attention not being focused on him butted in. “ Did you come all this way to flirt with Percy or what?”

Percy and Will both gagged and shivered, the idea of liking each other being just gross.

“I’m here because you son of a bitch, used me!” Will cried, flinging his arms out.

Nico raised an eyebrow. “I did?”

“Your boyfriend, booty call, whatever you wanna call them- was right there and I was just some pawn for you-”

“-If I wasn’t talking or paying any attention to you whatsoever, how on earth would I make them jealous?”

Will didn’t respond, his mind racking for answers, excuses, insults he could fling at the raven haired boy. He noticed he wasn’t wearing his lip ring that day.

“I think you should focus on the fact that Leo and I just so happened to be at the Medical College despite our majors being nothing related and we just so, by chance, crashed into you and your friend,” Nico hinted. He was a bit tired from how oblivious this blond guy was- hadn’t he made it obvious?

Will took a while to connect a few dots, but the problem was that he only connected the exact dots that Nico did not want him to connect.

“Wait, so Leo does like Callie? Is that why you guys are here?”

Nico wanted to fucking facepalm.

Saturday

The shop bell rang. Calypso was sitting at the counter with her apprentice, Meg. They were both chatting, something to do with the variation of a certain dandelion- Will wasn’t very sure.

He was sporting a daisy chain around his wrist that Meg had forced him to wear and a pink rose had been braided into his hair after much argument with Calypso that the thorns would hurt, in which she retorted that she’d obviously clip the bloody thorns.

When the bell rang, none of the three workers really snapped their heads up. But when the bell rang, and then rang and then rang again, they slowly lifted their heads from their conversation. Will, who had been leaning his elbows on the counter to talk to the two ladies, turned his head to see 8, very unwelcome people, walk into his shop.

Nico was standing there with all 7 of hids friends- Percy, Annabeth, Frank, Hazel, Piper, Jason and Leo. All of whom were very much not welcome in any way whatsoever in this shop.

“What are you doing here?”

The friends all glanced at one another before a few sputters of laughter were spread out. Nico, who was wearing his lip ring again, walked forward and picked up a red rose, twirling the thorny flower in his two fingers, ignoring the small prick it made.

He noticed the blood trickling down his thumb and lifted the injury to his lips.

“Didn’t I tell you last time...” Nico asked, his voice teasing but also malicious, a small corner of his lips stained red. “That you’ll be seeing a lot more of us?”

[obsidiancreates]

Freezer Duty (Part One)

(This was going to be a one-shot but then it reached 4,000 words so now it’s split up)

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

Amy parks her car and lays her head on the steering wheel. "You can do this. Christmas shopping is already slowing down, you can do this."

She grabs her coffee thermos, a special blend Emma came up with just for the holiday rush days (it had made Amy almost cry with thankful joy, and had made Emma shrink into her sweater and mutter "Whatever," five times straight), and gets out of her car.

The parking lot is mostly empty. Either most of her coworkers took the bus, or Amy is one of the only people on time... again. Not that she blames anyone. The weather is so cold that getting out of bed feels like a death sentence.

As she walks to the doors, she glances at the other cars. Glenn, obviously. As long as she's been working there, he's always been early. Carol, too. Probably planning to mess with Sandra somehow, this kind of stuff is why corporate shouldn't have shut down the in-store HR department. And then...

Jonah's car? He's usually at least a couple of minutes later than her... weird.

She walks past, and pauses. Why are the inside lights on? That means it's unlocked, and she knows Jonah locks his car obsessively. She once saw him lock it five times through the doors of the store. 

Curiosity claims her, and she peeks inside. 

And drops her thermos.

“Oh my go- JONAH!”

The scream is loud enough to summon Glenn. “Amy, what is- AHHHH!” he holds his hands up to his head as he shrieks.

Jonah is laying inside his car, bleeding from the neck.

Amy yanks open the car door and shakes Jonah’s shoulders. “Jonah, Jonah wake up!” As she shakes and calls out, Glenn stands behind her with his hands clasped, frantically praying to both Jesus and the Jewish God in a highly confusing yet heartfelt prayer.

“Jonah!” Amy slaps him in the face in a moment of complete desperation.

Jonah startles awake and puts his hand up to his cheek. “O-ow! What was that for! And...” he looks behind Amy. “... Why is Glenn turning purple.”

“Wh- oh, my god, Glenn, take a breath. Okay, um, Jonah, are you alright?”

“I-I think so... why?”

“Well, because you’re sitting in your turned-off unlocked car, in the middle of winter, passed out with blood on your neck.”

“WHAT?!” Jonah feels his neck. “OH- oh, god this is- this is not good, how did-”

“Our insurance is so bad,” Glenn sobs, “You’re not gonna make it!”

“Glenn, don’t- okay, let’s get you inside and- you’re not still bleeding, right?”

“I don’t think so, but what does critical blood loss feel like? Like would I be able to tell? I need to Google this, just-”

“Yeah, you’re going to be okay. Okay, into the store, Glenn help us out.”

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“Ow.” Jonah winces and flinches away as Amy dabs his neck with a wipe. 

“Pretty dramatic start to the work day, gosh. I hope nothing else happens.” Glenn shakes his hands by his sides and looks around nervously. He leans in and whispers, “Do you think they’ll find another foot? Jonah, what sneakers do you wear?”

“Again, still have both off my feet.” Jonah winces again, and Amy sets down the towel. 

“Okay, it’s all clean, so now we can-”

“Hey guys! Whoa...” Cheyenne stops in her tracks as she enters the breakroom, spreading her arms and stopping everyone else from entering too. There’s an annoyed clamoring for a minute before Garrett just rolls in under her arm. Everyone stoops down to follow, except Marcus, who tries (and fails) to turn it into a game of Limbo.

Garrett looks at the bloody wipes on the table Jonah and Amy are at. “Whoa, dude, what the hell happened?”

Amy sighs. “Jonah was-”

“We found Jonah dying in his car!” Glenn exclaims.

“Not dying!” Jonah and Amy say quickly. 

“He was passed out and bleeding a little,” Amy says to cut any rumors off preemptively, moving the collar of his shirt to get a better look at the wounds.

“In your car? In the middle of winter?”

Glenn nods, his face screwed up with worry. “And no scarf!”

“Oh, you’re for sure gonna die,” Cheyenne says, Mateo nodding in agreement. “It’s like, super cold outside.”

“Honestly I didn’t even feel that cold,” Jonah says, putting his hands up. “I guess my car stayed warm. ... Some-somehow.”

“What were you even doing in there? Are you homeless again? You could always crash at my place. Unless the birds don’t like you, then you’re gone. Nothing personal.” Dina sips her coffee.

“Thank you, for that... generous offer, um, I don’t actually remember.”

Amy pauses her checking. “You don’t?”

“No, I um, I just remember realizing I forgot something and going back into the store to get it, and then coming out and everyone was gone. And then there’s just sort of, nothing. ... That-that actually is more worrying, now that I say it aloud, am-am I dying?”

“Your brain probably froze up and is just taking time to de-thaw,” Marcus says with a flippant gesture. “Happened to my cousin once when we ate too many beer-pops.”

“... Okay, then, what’s a- no, nevermind, I can just guess. I don’t actually think that’s how brain freezes work, but thanks, I think.” 

Marcus smiles and raises his hands in an attempt at a gracious gesture.

“So you don’t remember anything?” Amy asks, bringing the subject back to the alarming and somewhat urgent situation.

“Maybe someone came up behind him and hit him over the head. Blunt force trauma, put him back in his car to make it look like he froze to death, do you know of anyone who wants to kill you? Maybe a disgruntled ex-classmate, customer you bored out of their skull with a pointless story, maybe-”

“That- no. No, I don’t think anyone wants to kill me for telling an invigorating story. And I’d rather not think about that, actually.”

Dina shrugs. “You don’t want to solve the mystery, fine. But don’t blame me when someone you screwed over in a group project cuts off your junk.”

Jonah and Amy stare at Dina for a second, and then Amy shakes her head. “Anyway... I checked, and I don’t think he has anything wrong with his head. Just his neck.”

Mateo glances over, unperturbed but curious. His expression becomes horrified. “Oh, my god! There’s two giant holes in your neck!”

Jonah slaps his hand over the wounds. “WHAT?!”

“They are not giant holes!” Amy shouts as everyone starts chattering. “They’re tiny ones! And-and they’re more like cuts, anyway!”

“Maybe someone injected him with drugs.”

“Why would they do that, Dina?”

“Yeah, who wastes drugs like that?” Cheyenne looks around at everyone else, who have gone silent. “What?”

“And, wait, with two needles?” Garrett points to Jonah’s neck. 

“Maybe they missed a vein the first time.” Dina snorts like it’s an obvious conclusion.

Marcus snaps his fingers. “Maybe it’s some kind of new fancy needle.”

Dina shakes her head. “I keep up to date on drug needle trends. We find too many in the customer bathrooms for me to be out of the loop.”

Glenn startles slightly. “We do?”

“Guys!” Amy gestures at Jonah.

Everyone murmurs some form of “Right!” or “Sorry Jonah.”

“Really, I’m-I’m fine.” Jonah keeps a hand over the holes. “It’s just a little sore, and um, I don’t know, I guess I’m a little chilly and tired, but I’m generally okay.”

“Okay, great!” Dina claps her hands. “You can have an easy assignment today because of the whole ‘attacked for revenge’ thing-”

“That’s not what-”

“Well, no-one knows what happened, so for now my theory is valid. Anyway, I’ll assign you to grocery. Slow over there today, bakery is having a big sale and uh, huh, we had an overstock of powered donuts so it might get wild.”

“Well... thank you, Dina. A slow day sounds good, actually, because I’m starting to get a headache.” Jonah rubs his eyes. “Really bright in here.”

“It’s the standard fluorescents.” Glenn looks up. “Unless corporate had it changed overnight, but I don’t think so...”

Cheyenne tilts her head with a small frown, and looks at Jonah’s neck throughout the rest of the meeting.

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“No way,” Mateo scoffs. “That’s far-fetched gossip, even for us.”

“No, but it would make sense, right?” Cheyenne looks around, and then whispers. “Didn’t notice the cold, lights too bright, two holes in his neck. Jonah totally got bitten by a vampire.” She leans back and nods, eyes wide at her own revelation.

“Vampires aren’t even real though! As much as we might wish they were.”

They glance over at Grocery. Jonah is yawning, leaning against the freezer section. 

“He looks pale, right?” Cheyenne whispers.

“He always looks pale. He could wear non-tinted sunscreen as foundation,” Mateo says with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

“Yeah, I guess. ... Should we try to get a look at his eyes?”

“Chy, I love you, but we’ve got a ton of restocking to do and I don’t want to be all panicked before lunch.”

“Right. Right. Yeah. Probably just like, letting my imagination get the best of me, right? Yeah...”

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

“Excuse me?” 

Jonah startles, jumping away from the freezer door. “Hi! Yes, sorry! Um, what-what can I... help you with?”

“Could you please show me where the frozen pizzas are?”

“Sure, ma’am, right this way.” Jonah rubs his eyes, leading her to a different section of the freezer area. 

“Oh, thank you! Could you grab it for me?”

“Wh-why?”

“I don’t like the cold.”

Well, neither does he, and he’s already chilly. But this is his job. Somehow. How did he get here again? His head feel a little foggy, he can’t quite gather his thoughts. 

He reaches in and grabs the pizza. “Okay, here you-”

“No, the ones from the very back.”

“... I-I’m sorry?”

“The back ones are always better.”

“... Alright, I will... reach all the way into the back of the freezer.”

Jonah leans into the freezer, bracing himself for chills and shivers. And...

... Nothing.

It’s cold, but it’s... not bothering him that much. he leans in, grabs the pizza, and leans back out without feeling any more cold than he did prior to the task.

“Thank you, young man. You should grab yourself one too, it’ll put some color into those cheeks.”

The old woman walks away, and Jonah pulls out his phone to look up symptoms of frostbite and hypothermia.

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

Justine shakes her head. “I’ve read Twilight a million times, if he was a vampire I would be able to tell.”

“What if we give him some garlic bread, and tell him it’s normal bread?” Sandra suggests.

“Because if he’s just allergic to garlic, we won’t know the difference. Doy.” Marcus scoff-laughs at Sandra and points at her mockingly with his thumb.

“What are you guys talking about?” Garrett asks, rolling up to the group. “Marcus, aren’t you supposed to be unloading a truck right now?”

“Eh, didn’t feel like it. Anyway, we’re trying to figure out if Jonah is a vampire now.”

“Are you serious?”

They all nod. Garrett grins. He folds his hands in his lap. “So what have you tried so far?”

“Nothing yet,” Justine admits.

“We might give him garlic bread,” Sandra says with a shrug. “Is he allergic to garlic?”

“No.”

Sandra lights up. “So it would work!” Her smiles fades. “Oh. But then it might kill him.”

“We can’t do that! The Horsemen stick together, I could never hurt my best friend.” Marcus shakes his head. “What if we just drop something really heavy on him and see if he catches it?”

“That won’t hurt him?” Garrett checks.

“Not if he’s a vampire.”

“Right, right. How about instead of splattering him across the Wheaties boxes, you just ask Glenn to go pester him with Bible stuff?” Garrett would love to see that, Jonah gets to flustered over trying not to offend while trying to get away. It’s hilarious.

Marcus points at Garrett with a smile. “That- yes! Perfect! Thanks man!”

The small group runs off, and Garrett laughs a little to himself as he heads on back to customer service.

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

“Oh, this one is one of my favorite verses, so here we go, ahem-”

“Hey, Glenn? Isn’t there a-a rule, against doing this kind of thing at work?”

“Well... technically... but Marcus told me you wanted to know my favorite parts of the Bible, so I just sort of thought why wait.”

“He- really? Because I’m not... known, for being very curious about... the Bible...”

“But you are known for being curious about your friends,” Glenn says with a point and a smile.

Jonah plasters on a smile himself. “Yeah. Yeah, I do tend to-”

“Get a little nosy.”

“... I was going to say get involved, but... I-I guess nosy works too. But um, I’m restocking the ice cream right now, so kind of have to act fast,” Jonah motions at the freezeer.

“Oh, then I’ll make this quick! Okay, this verse says-”

Jonah sighs, rubbing his head. His headache is just getting worse and worse. He’s pretty sure it’s the lights, or maybe the dry-cold freezer air, but Glenn’s babbling is not helping. 

And his voice is really grating right now. It’s not exactly soothing at even the best of times, but Jonah is pretty sure he’d rather listen to nails on a chalkboard than another round of ‘Top Bible Verses’ from Glenn.

“Okay!” he snaps. “That’s good, that is- that is very much enough! Thank you for sharing something you enjoy with me, now please let me do my job!”

Glenn startles, and then hugs his Bible to his chest. “Fine. Then I guess you don’t get to hear me sing the top five best Psalms. Which is too bad for you, because Jerusha says I do them well enough to be on radio.”

Glenn walks away, and Jonah sighs. He hadn’t meant to snap, it was just really getting on his nerves. ... At least his headache is a little better already without the extra noise.

He watches Glenn walk away, and then catches sight of Justine and Sandra quickly ducking behind another isle. He looks on in confusion for a moment more, and then gets back to work.

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

“Okay, we need a real plan,” Justine sighs. 

“For what?” Dina pauses on her way to the coffee pot. “More raccoons? Did they find a snake in the bananas again?”

“We think Jonah night be a vampire,” Sandra says.

Cheyenne stops eating her lunch. “Oh my god, you told them?”

“I couldn’t think of anything else to say!” Mateo defends. “It’s been a boring day! Other than, you know, Jonah almost dying.”

“Wait, you guys think Jonah is a vampire? No way, have you seen him? That’d be too cliche.” Dina scoffs at the idea. And then looks at the ground, a thoughtful frown appearing on her face. “Although the cliche would also mean it makes sense...”

Garrett eats a chip. “Come on, he’d be a terrible vampire. Vampires are supposed to be confidant and suave. Jonah can’t even explain his cookie choices without a five-minute tirade.”

“And he’d cut himself off at least six times in those five minute,” Dina says with a slight wince. “Yeah, he’d be a terrible vampire.”

“I don’t know. Sometimes he’s really confident, and he does that smirk thing?” Sandra says, gesturing to her own mouth for emphasis. “Plus, he always stands like a politician.”

“And he puts way too much product in his hair! That’s a total vampire thing,” Cheyenne says with a definitive shrug.

“He does already have that black-hair-pale-skin thing going for him...” Mateo admits. “If he could be a villain on CW he could be a vampire.”

“And how would he drink blood?” Garrett asks. “Just talk until the person passes out? Ask overly politely in a way that really sounds like he’s trying to ask for sex?”

Everyone murmurs in agreement.

“He would starve,” Cheyenne declares. “Because he’d be picky, too, right?”

“Picky like, about the person’s health?” Mateo asks with a doubtful frown. “He’d probably freak out about not wanting to discriminate though.”

“That would be the starvation,” Dina says with a nod. “He’d be too worried about the socio-political crap of whoever he picks so he’d just debate himself until it was too late.”

“... That’d be kind of funny,” Mateo says quietly.

Everyone thinks for a moment, and then agrees.

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

“Hey, Jonah.” Dina snaps her fingers in front of Jonah’s face, jarring him out of his standing sleep. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Sorry, Dina.” Jonah rubs his face. “I feel exhausted.”

“It’s the middle of the day.”

“Yeah! Yeah, I know. Um, what did you need?”

“I need you to go help Brett move some of the exercise equipment, the dolly broke.”

“Wh- so-so we have to move it by hand?”

“You’ve got a little muscle on your noodle arms, you can handle it.” Dina slaps him on the back and walks away. Jonah huffs, hands on his hips. After a moment he shakes his head and moves over to exercise.

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

“Okay, now we find out for sure,” Dina says smugly. “No way a Human Jonah could handle the weight of that stuff.”

Everyone is crammed into the surveillance office, watching Jonah on the monitors.

“Should one of us tell Amy about this?” Cheyenne asks. “I feel like we’re leaving her out.”

“It is weird that I’m in on this and not her,” Marcus agrees. “But she’d probably tell us this is ‘dangerous’ or something.”

“She wouldn’t like it at all,” Dina confirms. “Best to just tell her about it later, or let her find out on her own. Later.”

They watch Jonah and Brett work together surprisingly smoothly, moving the heavy equipment with a perfectly human amount of struggling. Dina leans back in her chair with a disappointed sigh. “Dammit. I almost let myself believe in magic...”

“Wait, look!” Cheyenne points to the monitor. 

Everyone looks, excited and hopeful. And they collectively sigh and grumble.

“He’s just talking to a customer,” Mateo says.

“A super rude one! I’ve dealt with him before, he’s a total asshole. Let’s turn on the audio and listen to Jonah freak out.”

“I do love a good Jonah freakout.” Dina turns on the audio.

“Yeah, I-I’m sorry, sir, we just don’t carry that here anymore.”

“This store has carried it for over ten years.”

“Yeah, it’s a bummer! I know I hate when store stop carrying stuff I like. But maybe! Maybe we can view this as a-a chance for personal growth, for you! A chance at... at evolution, at moving forward-”

“Are you mocking me, little bitch boy?”

Everyone gasps. “Oh no he didn’t,” Cheyenne whispers. On the camera, Jonah is clearly taken aback, leaning away from the customer and staring with wide eyes.

“Some... very strong language, sir. Um, no, I just meant that maybe, you know, instead of-of viewing this in the negative-”

“So I’m a negative person?”

“No! No, I can’t- I don’t know you! I can’t make judgements about people that fast! Just- I hope this doesn’t ruin your day, right? And-and I want to see if we can find you a-a replacement, so that you can still have what you want!”

“How important do you think this is to me? You think I’m pathetic? Can’t be happy without my specific little brand?”

“No, I just-”

“I’m gonna need to speak with your bitch of a floor manager or whatever she’s called.”

“... I’m sorry?”

“Your bitch of a floor manager. The loud Latina lady.”

Dina stands up, ready to go beat the man with a bat for talking about her best friend that way. Cheyenne pushes her back down, jaw dropped. “I think Jonah is about to stand up to him,” she says.

Jonah is indeed, looking quite pissed off. He steps closer, and looks the much taller man right in the eyes. Jonah’s a good head shorter, his hair barely coming up to the other man’s chin, yet for some reason unknown the black-and-white monitor shows the customer being the one who leans back.

“You, sir, are a very unpleasant person,” Jonah says in a calm, measured voice. “And I think you need to do some self-reflection. I think you should leave the store, and learn how to talk about people without using the word ‘bitch’, alright?”

It’s so overly polite it’s almost comical. Yet somehow... it works.

The customer stands there for a second, then just... walks away. Jonah watches after him, the calm and collection expression on his face quickly giving way to confusion. He looks around as though wondering if someone else had done something to scare the customer off.

“Confidence boost,” Sandra says softly.

Cheyenne pulls out a notebook and ticks something off. “That counts as evidence.”

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

Jonah has no clue what just happened.

One moment he was speaking with a rude customer, the next the customer was walking away and Jonah has no clue why. What he does know was that his headache was slightly better, and that he really wishes his lunch break was sooner because he is famished.

Someone taps him on the shoulder, and he nearly jumps out of his skin. He turns around to see Amy looking at him with slight concern. “You okay? You’re just sort of... staring off into space.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Uh... yeah, I’m fine. Totally fine.”

“... I don’t believe you.”

“Well, then you... have trust issues, because I am. I’m fine.”

“... Sure... can I see your neck again, real quick?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re acting weird and I want to make sure you’re not developing an infection that’s getting to your brain?”

“... Yeah, check away.”

Amy checks, and winces. “Youch. Yeah, let’s get some more antibiotics on those.” She starts leading him towards the breakroom. “So, what happened with that customer? I came over right at the tail end, missed the whole thing.”

“Oh. Um... I guess I just, really got through to him.”

“You?”

“Yes, me, why- what is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing! It’s just, usually when you try to calm down a customer you don’t get very far.”

“Well, you know, sometimes people just listen if you hit the right cords-”

“Mmm-hmm, yeah.”

“-I guess I just found the right words to resonate with him, is all I’m saying.” If only he knew what those words were...

Creak

Jonah pauses. “Did-did you just hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Creaaak

Jonah looks up. “I think the ceiling is about to collapse.”

“Why?”

CREAAAAK!

A mass of merch falls from the ceiling! Amy and Jonah both scream, brace themselves, Amy still holding onto Jonah and Jonah still holding onto Amy-!

...

And... they’re a safe distance from it all as it crashes down.

A multitude of raccoons scamper out and scatter, their Nest Of Stolen Goods now revealed. Jonah and Amy watch from the sidelines.

The sidelines!

“How did we get over here?” Amy is staring at the pile.

“... I don’t know,” Jonah replies, staring as well. Oh, what an adrenaline rush, his heart is racing- ... it... should... be racing...

Amy’s hand is still around Jonah’s wrist. She looks at him for a moment, and then shakes off the shock. “Okay, um, let’s get a team to clean this up, and get some antibiotic on your neck.”

“Will that part take a whole team, too?”

“Ha-ha, Jonah. ... I’m just glad neither of us got hurt.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

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“OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!” Cheyenne grabs Mateo and starts shaking him. “DID YOU SEE WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!”

“WE ALL SAW!” Mateo shouts, pushing Cheyenne away. He huffs and brushes off his sweater. “All three of us left, anyway.”

Dina taps the monitor. “That’s why you never leave the surveillance room after something mildly interesting happens! Something big always follows!”

“He’s actually a vampire,” Mateo says in disbelief. “He vampire-ran away from that junk, he’s actually a vampire!”

Dina scoff-laughs. “The little guy pulled off one hell of a ruse, huh? Pretty clever, faking amnesia.”

Cheyenne stops her mini victory celebration. “Whoa, why do you think he’s faking?” 

“Because why wouldn’t I? He’s a vampire now, even if he actually doesn’t remember what happened it’s got to be pretty obvious to him that he’s undead. ... Right?”

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“What’re you googling?” Amy dabs at the neck wounds gently with a damp cloth as she prepares to put on the antibiotic cream.

“Symptoms of frostbite and hypothermia. I guess everyone got into my head this morning, and I’ve had some weird stuff happen to me...”

“Well... anything about last night coming back? Could help you figure out whatever symptoms you’ve got.”

“Still nothing.” Jonah rubs his neck when Amy is done dabbing it with the cloth. “I still feel like the day just started, honestly.”

“Oh yeah,” Amy agrees. “Today’s going to be a long day.”

[rosy-wooyoung]

unconditional love | j. wooyoung

pairing : wooyoung x fem!reader word count: 3.6k synopsis: a romantic evening with your boyfriend. A/N: I know it’s cliché, I know, but it’s Valentine’s day, okay?? Special thanks to @seoultraveller​ for giving me this idea, i hope it’s good! <3 Happy Valentine’s day to everyone and remember to take care of yourselves 💐💕

“Woo! Why don’t you tell me anything about Valentine’s day? I don’t even know what to wear!” you exclaimed as Wooyoung was about to leave for work. He walked to peck your lips, but you caught his forearms to prevent him from moving.  “I can’t tell you, babe, it’d ruin the surprise,” he said with his sweetest voice, but you didn’t let go. “At least give me a hint,” you were almost begging at this point. You had never really been fond of surprises. They always made you nervous, and knowing that your boyfriend prepared everything behind your back had a knack for annoying you.

“Okay, then. Meet me at the restaurant at 7:30 tonight. And for the clothes… I don’t know, you’ll look pretty anyway, so wear what you want!” he exclaimed as he finally gets to kiss you on the lips and hurried to the hall. “Wooyoung!” “Love you, darling!” he said as he locked the front door, making you huff at his stubbornness, mumbling a 'love you too'. Where are you even going? Do you have to dress fancy or just your office clothes? No, they’re plain, plus he sees you in them every single day.  “Argh, he annoys me,” you said through gritted teeth as you ditched your now empty cup of coffee in the dishwasher before starting it. 

- ♥ -

You had known Wooyoung for years now. When you first met, he was just a manager at the restaurant a few meters away from where you worked, and your colleagues were among his regular customers. When you started to work at this company, you were the newbie, so you had never been there before, and the young man started crushing on you as soon as you walked through the door. Your clothes and beautiful facial expressions were enough to make his heart hammer in his chest, not even paying attention to the customers or his co-workers. When you were in the restaurant, he had eyes for you and you only. 

The other managers, - who were still his current friends -, noticed how his attention would shift when the clock struck midday, the time you usually came with your colleagues. They would tease and annoy him because you were around, and he was always ready to slap them with whatever landed in his hands. 

Something that he didn’t know at that time was that he had also caught your eye. He looked good in his working uniform, and you always found kindness in his eyes when he was talking to you. One day, in the middle of winter, you accidentally slipped on a patch of ice, right in front of his restaurant. Him and Yunho, one of the other managers, rushed over and helped you back up. You were super embarrassed, to say the least, because it’s never flattering when you fall in public, but Wooyoung didn’t even notice your distress. He was too busy checking that you weren’t hurt anywhere and warm enough to go back outside.

When you came back around that day at lunch, he made sure that you were okay, not caring if it poked up some envy or jealousy among your female co-workers. It’s with a downward gaze that you thanked him for his concern, and Wooyoung never felt so proud. In one day, he had gotten to know your name, take care of you and hold you, – yes, because he pushed Yunho to the side to be the one to help you back up on your feet –, he had never been this happy.

And, from day to day, you started talking more informally, to the point of visiting the restaurant, even if you weren’t working. You got to speak with him while he worked and complimenting him on the management of the team, as well as the food. Soon becoming friends, then best friends, until Wooyoung confessed to you. He loves to brag about that day, but you always let him because you found it adorable. 

You also remember it like it was yesterday. It was on Valentine’s day, - just like today -, and you came to the restaurant, dozens of minutes before it was closing. You looked down and cold, the sheer top and skirt you were wearing didn’t help to warm you up. Wooyoung found you gorgeous in those clothes, but he was curious to know the reason for your frown. His heart shattered when you started crying, admitting that you had confessed your love to one of your colleagues, who didn’t reciprocate your feelings. Wooyoung felt sick to know that you were crushing on someone else but didn’t dare to say anything. He offered you a glass of water that you downed in a few seconds, under his impressed eyes. You kept on crying, but you soon admitted that you felt more embarrassed than heartbroken. 

“I feel like disappearing in a rabbit hole,” you mumbled and Wooyoung shook his head. “He’s not worth your tears, nor your time if he rejected you. It’s not the end of the world, there are still plenty of guys on the planet.” “That will love me? I highly doubt that,” you said as you wiped your tears and Wooyoung scoffed.

“That will love a wonderful, sweet, amazing soul like yours? Girls like you are rare, you just need to find the man you deserve,” he said as he washed your glass, drying it with a piece of cloth. His words surprised you, and you blinked a few times when you noticed the tip of his ears becoming bright red. 

Was he hinting at something?

“Oh yeah? And where can I find someone like that, uh? It’s pretty thin on the ground, and it's not on Tinder that I'll find them," you stated, crossing your arms on your chest.  “You have one in front of you, dear,” he said as he placed the glass back on the cupboard, clearing the bottles of alcohol. Your eyes widened before you laid back on your chair, considering his words. Wooyoung kept his back to you, trying to find a way to come back to you in case your answer was negative. When he finally found the courage to look back at you, you were gone. He blinked a few times before he felt someone grabbing his face and kiss him on the lips. 

You had just walked around the counter to come to him. Wooyoung threw the piece of cloth on the bar and deepened the kiss, grabbing your face while asking for entrance with his tongue. Thankfully, his colleagues were leaving by the backdoor, leaving you all the freedom in the world to make out. 

- ♥ -

That night happened 4 years ago, and since when, you both progressed in your respective workplaces. You’ve gotten to a heavily responsible job, and Wooyoung became the owner of the restaurant he worked at, making you both quite successful and proud of the other. And, to kind of commemorate this special night, on every single Valentine’s day, you celebrated in a special way, Wooyoung always going extra just to see you smile. But tonight, you had no idea what he was going to do. You left work a tad bit earlier than usual to go home and get ready. You had tried to guess your surprise all day, even begging for hints through messages to your lover, but you couldn’t get anything from him. 

You locked the door once you were ready, straightening the edges of your black dress. You felt pretty tonight, thanks to your hairstyle and your makeup skills, you knew that Wooyoung would love that look. It’s not that you doubted his love, he had said by the past that you were pretty in the weirdest situations, - you could have just woken up, wipe the counter or just breathing, he’d find you pretty – but tonight, you knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands to himself when he’ll see you. 

“Thank you,” you said to the taxi driver as gave you back your credit card, getting out of the vehicle. To be on a holiday night, you found the restaurant quite empty, if not desert. You could barely see the kitchens light in your lover's restaurant, but you neared the entrance and gently knocked on the glass door.

Your boyfriend emerged suddenly from the back-office, clad in a black shirt and some office pants. His hair was neatly styled, forehead on display, eyes shining with love when he saw you on the other side of the window.

“I’m two minutes late,” you said and he gently shook his head, his arm sneaking under your coat to wrap itself around your waist, drawing you towards him. He lost himself a few seconds in your eyes before landing on your lips. You smiled as he was getting distracted, happy that you still had this effect on him after all those years of common life.  “It’s alright, love,” he whispered, eyes darting to your bare shoulder as your faux-fur coat slid from your body. His eyes fluttered as they came back to yours, his face slowly approaching yours before capturing your lips in a slow, yet feverish kiss. 

You pulled away for oxygen, smiling as you wiped his bottom lip with your thumb, getting rid of the red lipstick you smeared while kissing him. 

“So, where are we going, Woo?” you sweetly asked, straightening the collar of his shirt. He looked like he snapped back to reality and cleared his throat, smirking at you. “Nowhere, Y/N. If you may follow me,” he said, extending his elbow for you to hold, thanking him as he walked you to a table in the middle of the restaurant hall. Lights dimmed, all the other tables and chairs pushed to the side, everything made you realise how spacious the restaurant was. It almost looked like a dance hall.

A bouquet of red roses, twelve to be precise, was placed on your plate, the attention making you smile as you saw a handwritten note attached to the bouquet. Softly introducing your fingers between the paper, you opened it and recognised the handwriting of your loved one. 

They say you only fall in love once, but every time I look at you, I fall all over again. Happy Valentine’s day, love. ♥

So cliché, but so worth it. You smiled as you looked at Wooyoung, resisting the urge to jump into his arms. You simply kissed him on the lips another time before he grabbed your hands, guiding you to the chair. He pulled it out for you, inviting you to sit down. 

“You went all out tonight,” you joked, and he giggled, pushing you closer to the table. “I’d do it every single day if I had the time,” he kissed your temple before going back to the kitchen, leaving you time to admire the roses. They were so red and smelled heavenly, they’re going to look extremely pretty on the kitchen counter. Once he came back with balancing two plates on one hand, a vase in the other, your mouth started salivating at the sight of the food in front of you. He took the roses and placed them in the perfectly fitting vase, resting it on the table. “Are you going to do everything by yourself?” you asked as he sat down, resting a napkin on his laps.  “I wanted to make this moment special and private. I didn’t want to have San or Yunho underfoot. And it’s our moment, not theirs,” he said, and you smiled, pursing your lips as you stared at your boyfriend. “You are amazing,” you mumbled and he raised his eyebrows. “And you are the one saying this,” he teased back, making you roll your eyes and started eating. Everything melted in your mouth, awakening your taste buds. You knew that your boyfriend was an excellent chef, but at this point, it was just astonishing. 

“You never fail to amaze me,” you said, done with your first course, feeling almost full. Wooyoung knew your eating habits, and he always managed to make everything balance for your stomach.  “And you haven't seen everything yet, love,” he winked as he took your plate, walking back to the kitchen. You were truly lucky to have him in your life, you don’t know where you would be without him. He brought out the best of you, always pushing you to do your best and he was your number one supporter, no matter the size of your victories. 

Hand supporting your chin, you observed with a smile your lover actively around the kitchens, roasting something in the pan due to the flames coming out of it. The gesture was under control, your boyfriend stirring the pan continuously as the flames kept on going. It was rather impressive, – almost sexy – but you had forbidden him to try this at home. No matter how good he was at doing this, you didn’t want to end with a kitchen on fire. Wooyoung knew you were watching him, and that pushed him to show off even more. He knew that he didn’t have to do it, yet he couldn’t help but put on an act. 

The main course arrived a few minutes later, and you were pleased to see your favourite dish in front of your eyes. 

“I don’t even know what to say,” you mumbled with a shy smile, grabbing your fork and knife, “it smells so fucking good, you went all out just for me, you don't know how grateful I am.” “I love you too baby, but eat now. It won’t be the same if it’s cold,” you giggled and grabbed his free hand with yours, his thumb instantly caressing your knuckles. He observed you take the first bite, and a proud smile decorated his lips when you closed your eyes to enjoy the piece of meat you were chewing on. It was a dish that your mother used to do on your birthday since you loved it so much, but you had to say that Wooyoung brought something special to it. 

“I don’t even have to say anything, you know it’s good,” you said after swallowing, immediately stabbing your fork in another piece. “It’s always nice to hear it from you,” he said, and you stood up, giggling. You had never been great with words, so you just grabbed his face and placed your lips against his, trying to show him how much you loved him through a kiss.  “Thank you,” you whispered, and he gave you a gentle slap on the ass. “There is still the dessert left,” he said, and you groaned, clutching your stomach before taking another bite.

“You’re trying to make me fat, aren’t you?” you giggled, and he shook his head, taking a sip of wine.  “Come on, it’s only once a year,” he said, and you laughed, scoffing. “Liar! You know you cook well, plus you cook on my birthday, on Easter, Christmas’ Eve and New Year’s Eve. So no baby, it’s not once a year.” Wooyoung simply smirked, gaze falling on your stomach. If food wasn’t enough to make you gain some weight, he knows another way to make your stomach all pretty and round. 

But he would never say that aloud. At least not now, he’ll save it for later. Maybe in one or two years or so. 

He chuckled to himself as he looked back at you. You talked about everything and nothing during the rest of dinner, hands linked and sometimes pressing soft kisses on each other’s skin, as it both was your way to show affection.

“Are you ready for the dessert?” he asked, and you nodded as he took your plate, making his way to the kitchens, again.  “I’m excited to see what you prepared,” you said, and he turned around, biting his lower lip as he grinned. “You’ll have to be a bit patient for this one, love,” he said, checking his watch before disappearing into the kitchen. He certainly loved leaving you in the lurch, hanging onto his every word.

Once he reappeared, you were surprised to see him empty-handed, only carrying his coat and keys.

“Dessert’s actually served at home, Y/N,” your eyes widened as you took the hand he was holding out. He helped you put your coat back on and blew the candles away. You were about to take the roses, but he stopped you, kissing you on the back of your hand instead. “You’ll come and get them tomorrow, baby,” he winked, and you chuckled, biting your lower lip as you looked at him. You knew him so well. He wanted you to drop by so he could give you the flowers in the middle of the restaurant, showing all the people there and your colleagues that you are his and his only. 

While driving, Wooyoung’s hand wouldn’t leave your thigh, hand or forearm, always feeling the soft, plush skin under his touch. You let him, feeling goosebumps travelling in your body as his warm hand contrasted with your cold skin. The car was filled in a comfortable silence between the two of you, only the melody coming out of the radio and the motor roaring under you filling it in. Eyeing your boyfriend from the corner of your eye, you admired his side profile and his dexterity in shifting gears, finding the gesture ridiculously hot. You were at ease, yet excited to discover the dessert. 

Twisting your key in the slit, a sweet smell invaded your nostrils, making you instinctively frown. Where did it come from?

“Okay, I have to admit. On this one, I might have given orders,” your boyfriend explained in your back, and it reassured you on the current smell in your apartment.  “I thought I had forgotten something on the stove,” you joked and took off your coat, Wooyoung imitating you. 

“You know about the Wonderland bakery, right?” he started, and you gave him a light shrug. “Who wouldn’t? It’s the best bakery in the entire neighbourhood,” you answered, and your boyfriend smiled. “Well, the owner is Hongjoong, my good friend from high school. I think he’ll be happy you like his baby this much. But anyway, I asked him if he could prepare something sweet while we were having dinner together,” he said as you let him walk you to the kitchen. “And he was free on Valentine’s day?” you asked, quite dumbfounded. “His lover is on the other side of the world for her job, he was happy to help and make a couple happy,” Wooyoung said and you hugged him from the side. 

“I love you, you know that?” you said and he chuckled, hand going at the back of your neck. “Hmm, I know, but I think I love you more,” he agreed and he took out the aluminium foil off a plate that rested on the cleaned stove, placing some toffee apples and chocolate strawberries under your nose, your two weaknesses when it came to desserts. You delicately took one strawberry between your fingers and aimed for your lover’s lips, who purposefully made a mess while eating it. 

“If you wanted a kiss, you could have just asked for it,” you said as you grabbed his face, pressing your mouth against his as you cleaned the smeared chocolate from his lips.  “It’s funnier that way,” he teased and you gently shoved him, taking another strawberry. This time, you were going to eat it, but Wooyoung sneaked in and bit it, barely missing your fingers. You gave him a disapproving look and he giggled before kissing your cheek, feeling some of the chocolate lingering on your skin. 

Wooyoung seized a toffee apple and forced it against your lips, obliging you to bit it. His other hand resting under your chin, ready to collect the falling pieces, you sweetly munched on the sugar-coated fruit as Wooyoung licked his fingers clean from anything that you missed. You finished the apple while looking at your boyfriend, sometimes teasingly pushing the sugar off your lips, back in your mouth. You knew that you were driving him crazy, especially in that dress, but it was so entertaining to watch him not trying to lose his composure and jump on you. His eyes never missed your reddened lips, the apple nor your lipstick helping the poor man and his loving pulsations.

Taking out the stick and the stem of the last strawberry, he placed it in his mouth, motioning you to come closer. You teasingly bit it until your mouth touched, passionately kissing as the fruit and the chocolate mixed in your mouth. Pulling away, you swallowed your bite and sat back on the couch, but it was only for a quick second. 

Wooyoung got up and lifted you from your position, earning a yelp from you. He carried you like a bride, giving you all the time in the world to observe him until you reached the bedroom. 

“Thank you for everything, Woo,” you whispered against his chest, and he slowly placed you down on the bed. Knees on either side of your waist, he hovered above you, lips ghosting on the skin of your neck. 

“You’ll thank me later, love. Valentine’s day isn’t over yet,” he whispered as he started pressing a feverish kiss on your burning skin, loving every single sound coming out of your mouth. He was right, the night was still young, and you weren’t ready for all the other things Wooyoung had prepared for you. And you're totally right, it wasn’t more food. 

[callboxkat]

Those Long, Lonely Nights (part 1/6)

Author’s note: This is a retelling of the story These Deep Dark Woods, but from Roman’s perspective, plus a few new scenes. I recommend reading that story first, but this can also stand alone. Please read the warnings!

Summary: Roman, a knight, insists on accompanying his best friend Logan, a potion maker, when he decides to head into the notoriously dangerous woods bordering their home to find some rare herbs and minerals for his apothecary. They find much more than they bargained for when they encounter Remus, a bloodthirsty giant. Logince. Angst with a happy ending.

Warnings:  food mention, blood, injuries, death mention, killing mention, gun mention, mild body horror (it’s Remus), disturbing imagery (it’s Remus), character death, temporary/believed character death, kidnapping, guilt, attempted self sacrifice, talk of giants, vampires and other monsters. Very unsympathetic villain Remus.

Word Count: 1764

Part 2 

Ao3 Link

Writing Masterpost!

...

Roman bounded down the bustling street, waving to familiar passerby as he went. He knew he was easy to pick out and very recognizable, in his white knight’s uniform. Despite the early morning, many people were already up and about, setting up for the day, but the street lamps still glowed—a recent installation, they actually ran on electricity! Roman still didn’t quite understand how that worked, but he was proud to see his settlement prospering, and it was fascinating, how much light came from them, just from a few little wires and some glass. Perhaps there was some sort of enchantment involved.

“Good morning, Sir Roman,” a shopkeeper called.

Roman tabled his nerdy thoughts for the time being. He put on a bright smile and approached the shop, where a woman stood sweeping clear the welcome mat. “Good morning to you, Maryanne!”

The woman put aside the broom and dusted her hands off on her apron. “Would you like a pastry? The peaches just arrived from Mellow Valley, and they are simply delightful in a fruit tart.”

Roman hummed consideringly. “Oh, that’s very tempting, but I’m afraid I’m in a rush this morning!”

“Some other time, then. Perhaps you could even bring that handsome young man you’re always with.” She winked.

Roman really hoped he wasn’t blushing. “Of course—you know I love your treats.”

Roman was on his way to his shift guarding the outer wall, an imposing structure built of shining gray stone that protected the citizens of his home from the monsters that roamed the forest beyond. It was an important job, entrusted to the expertise of the knights, and one that Roman loved doing; but it wasn’t always the most exciting prospect. Their settlement, Old Haven, was one of the longest standing, enough so that most of the monsters had known since generations past to stay well away; and between the few times that things truly got exciting... they could be terribly dull.

But, before Roman went to his shift that morning, he had a stop to make, and this he was definitely looking forward to.

The apothecary was located just a couple of blocks from the main square, in a small, warmly colored cedar and stone building with windows filled with neatly arranged bundles of colorful herbs and evenly spaced rows of bottles of medicinal powders and potions. A hand-painted sign read, Please come in, in neat, white letters, in an only slightly decorative script.

Roman reached the shop just as the door opened, the bell overhead chiming. A customer stepped out, dressed in a dark robe with the hood up. At first glance, he seemed to be clothed entirely in black, but on closer inspection, his robe was actually a deep plum color. He clutched a bottle of pomegranate juice in one pale hand and a neatly sealed packet of herbs in the other. Dark bangs poked out from under the hood, but his face was cast in shadow. Roman frowned slightly noticing the dark, grayish veins in his hands as he stepped back to give the man room. He hurried past Roman and disappeared down the street. Roman stepped inside the apothecary once he was gone.

The apothecarist, Logan, stood behind a counter within the shop, wearing an elegant, navy colored coat and his usual pair of spectacles. He was pushing together a pile of coins on the counter. Copper and bronze coins only, Roman noticed. No silver.

“Got a lot of vampire clientele?” Roman asked, leaning (or perhaps posing) against one of the display cabinets.

Logan looked up, the warm lamplight making his deep blue irises glitter in a way that never failed to make Roman’s heart skip a beat. He glanced back down and finished tucking away the money. “Six,” he said honestly. “Seven, most likely, although she has not personally shared that information with me, and if she is, hers appears to be a mild case.”

“Hm.”

“You don’t approve?”

“Ah… they’re a little too similar to monsters, for my taste.”

“It is a monster-derived affliction, that is true, but with modern treatments, most of those afflicted with vampirism can lead nearly normal lives.”

Roman shrugged dismissingly, waving him off. He hadn’t come here to talk about vampires. “I know, I know. Anyway. How’s my favorite nerd this morning?”

“I wish you wouldn’t call me that,” Logan sighed.

“You know you love it.”

Logan did not deny it, Roman noticed with a small smile. Instead, he adjusted a few already perfectly positioned potion bottles on the counter, before saying, “I am well, although rather busy.”

Roman glanced around the room, noticeably empty of customers. “Ah yes, this is a very busy time for your shop, I see.”

“A customer did depart only moments ago,” Logan pointed out. “Although, no, I was not referring to customers. I’m preparing for an outing.”

“An outing?” Roman was interested, now. “Finally taking a little vacation, are you? Good on you. Where are you going? And more importantly—can I come?”

Logan wanted to smile, Roman could tell. But he didn’t. The guy took himself too seriously. “Not that type of outing. I require materials to restock my shop.”

Roman sighed dramatically, making it a full body motion. So much for a vacation. And the hot springs in the hills of northern Old Haven were so nice this time of year. “So? Just put it on the list for the traders. Mellow Valley should have most of your things in season by now. Did you hear the peaches arrived? Maryanne, that baker on Lilac, promised me some of her delightful pastries. We could go get some, when I’m finished with my shift on the South Wall this morning.”

Logan shook his head “Mellow Valley won’t have everything I need; and besides, the costs are considerably lessened when the materials are personally collected.”

Roman furrowed his brow. “Collected where?”

“Outside.”

“You mean outside, like, as in the park, right?”

“In the woods,” Logan sighed, beginning to sound exasperated.

Roman opened his mouth, then closed it again. The woods. The veritable ocean of dense trees beyond the settlement’s walls, filled to the brim with monsters, held back from advancing only by the strength of the guard and broken only by the occasional human stronghold and the heavily protected trails that linked them. Generally, only knights and the traders they accompanied ever ventured beyond the walls—this was, in fact, why Roman had become a knight in the first place, to get to see some of the world that most only saw through pictures and stories. Citizens were allowed to leave—they weren’t prisoners—but it was very rare, and highly discouraged. Many who went unprepared—or even those who did—never returned; and sometimes even those who did return were not the same as when they left—like the vampires who apparently frequented this shop, or at least one or more of their ancestors. Vampirism could be tricky like that. Sometimes it cropped up randomly, somewhere down the line.

Logan had begun sorting through some of his supplies, acting for all the world as if he hadn’t just announced he had a death wish.

Roman shook off his distracted thoughts of vampirism and knightly missions, and focused on the most important thing: “Please tell me you aren’t planning to go out there alone.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Logan sighed. “I will have my dagger, and I will go no further into the woods than required.”

“Oookay, first of all, why am I just now hearing that you’ve been hanging out in the monster-filled woods by yourself?”

“I would hardly call it ‘hanging out’.”

“And second of all, you are absolutely not doing that.”

Logan gave him a dry look. “Yes, I am. My herbs will not pick themselves.”

“Get a garden like a normal person.”

“You know I have a quite extensive garden.” Logan paused, looked confused. He shook his head, going back to counting bundles of tiny black seeds. “Some of these herbs do not naturally grow within human settlements, let alone ours, and my attempts to recreate their preferred environment have in many cases proven thus far unsuccessful. Besides, I cannot ‘get a garden’ to form mineral deposits, several of which are required in even non-specialty potions.”

Roman still didn’t quite see why Logan wouldn’t be able to get all of this stuff using a trader. Knowing Logan, it was less about the money and more about needing to personally ensure that he received the correct materials. Surely, though, even the least-versed in medicinal resources could get him what he needed, if he described them well enough.

Also knowing Logan, though, he would not be dissuaded from going.

Roman pulled himself up to his full height, puffing out his chest and putting one hand on the protective-charm engraved hilt of his sword. “Alright, then, I am coming with you.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You’re coming to collect herbs? Can you even tell wormwood from hemlock?”

“I’m not going to find your nerd plants, I’m going to protect you.”

Logan scoffed quietly, clearly believing Roman’s very generous and heroic offer was unnecessary. But he sat down on his stool, finally, and looked at Roman without busying himself with his apothecarist duties. He glanced Roman up and down, apparently trying to decide how serious Roman was. “Alright, then, if you insist.”

“I do!” Roman nodded firmly. He relaxed his posture. “So, when are we going?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes?”

“I—” Roman groaned, looking up towards the wooden beams of the ceiling. “Fine. It’s a little short notice, but fine.” He worked his jaw, then mumbled, “I’ll need to cancel a couple days… maybe Sir Leo can cover? Hm.”

Logan tilted his head slightly, adjusting his spectacles and watching Roman’s dramatics. “I am not forcing you to come.”

You are, though. “Well, I am.”

“Alright.”

“Alright.”

A beat passed in silence, Roman feeling triumphant, before Logan gave the knight a slightly amused look. “I thought you had a shift on the wall?”

“I—right. Yes.” Roman had gotten a little distracted. He took a couple of steps back. “So, you, me, tomorrow, woods. Great.” He turned towards the door, stopped, and turned around. “About those pastries?”

Logan hummed. “I can take a break two hours after noon, which is when your shift ends, if I remember correctly. I suppose I would accept one then.”

“They have fruit in them,” Roman encouraged. “That makes them healthy!”

“I do not believe that is entirely correct.”

Roman grinned and left the shop.

[tough-bit-of-fluff]

FFXIV Write 2021 Prompt 1: Foster

It was a quiet afternoon in a low-rent neighborhood of the Goblet, where small shops and residences pressed closely together, worn but tidy. The heat of the day had urged most shoppers and residents along, either back to their homes for a nap before continuing the evening's work, or down the stone path to the brilliant turquoise pools of the posh Brimming Heart district.

It was from one of the aforementioned small shops though, one blessed at least with a large tree to shade it, that came a high-pitched cry, pleading and dramatic.

“Aww, come on, little guy, you hafta eat *something*! Your cute chubby lil tentacles are starting to look all listless, and you're not half as slimy as you were a week ago!”

The shop was the Compass Coffee and Second Chance Shop, and the cry came from Alyona Amariyo, who ostensibly worked there. At the moment, the fluffy, distraught miqo'te was lying on her belly in the middle of the floor, peering closely at a squat, strange creature that almost defied description. The “little guy” in question. Rejected foodstuffs lay scattered around them.

“Might it not be wise,” rumbled the canny hrothgar merchant Cielbasa from behind the counter, “To be a bit more specific than urging the beast to eat ‘something’?” He ran a hand across his furry face and muzzle, and shuddered, imagining the creature latched there.

“That's a g...good point,” Letharon agreed, sweeping a hand through his own dense thatch of cerulean blue hair. He frowned with concern down at Aly, who was pressing her round, pale cheek against the rubbery lavender hide of the blank-eyed animal in an affectionate nuzzle that went absolutely unreciprocated. “We d...don't even know if it's an am...phibian or insect or…” Or an abomination from the dark spaces between the stars, sent to enslave or consume all of mankind, starting with a too-trusting catgirl. “Or w..what,” he concluded, taking a protective step closer.

“Maybe he's a kind of frog,” Flavia suggested, the taller girl smoothing her skirts as she crouched down to join in observing Aly's new “friend.”

“Your belief is that this squelching, six-legged *thing* is a *frog*.” Ciel raised a bushy eyebrow.

“I like frogs,” Flavia explained, as though that was reason enough.

“I like frogs too!” Beamed Aly. “And I like solving mysteries with my friends. And we'll figure out what he is and what he wants, together!”

“Ninki Nanka,” came the proclamation from a shadowed shop-corner, by the bookshelves. Victor stepped dramatically into the light, causing the staff and scattered customers to gasp. Aly clapped at the theatricality.

Leth blinked. “W...what?”

Qoribucha, a tall Xaela shop regular sipping a comparatively tiny cup of espresso, offered a grave nod. “Perhaps he is speaking the words which shall release it back to the Void.”

Victor repeated, “Ninki Nanka. That's apparently what this thing is. Or at least I'm reasonably sure. Look at the striations on its tail.” He gestured to the book he was holding.

Cielbasa frowned. “Let me see that.”

Victor shrugged, and, focusing, used his telekinesis to float the tome across the room to the leonine shopkeep’s hands...perhaps with a bit more force than was strictly necessary.

Ciel flipped rapidly through the pages, while Aly unsuccessfully offered the possible nanka a carrot, a gysahl green, and a handful of birdseed.

“A, ahem, ninki nanka, does not have six legs,” Ciel stated, tapping an illustration with his clawed finger.

“There will be more meat to harvest, when eventually its time comes,” Qori observed. “Perhaps it is a boon.”

“Maybe...this one's just special,” Aly suggested, not responding to the au ra’s suggestion, and massaging the nanka’s back. It made a wet noise that might have been a growl or a trill, or simply the passing of gas. A faint fishy smell filled the air, wrinkling the noses of everyone in the room, aside from the two enamored, oblivious women, and the creature itself, which didn't have a nose to wrinkle.

“You do tend to find the special ones,” Victor chuckled, reaching down to rub a pink, fuzzy ear.

“Ohh, no no, don’t eat that, silly!” Flavia chided the creature, who was waving its tentacles inquisitively at a “coffee” concoction she had made with unground coffee beans, an entire cup of sugar, and, by the look of it, several small pinecones, their sap-encrusted ends protruding from the unwholesome brew. “That’s people food, and it could make you sick.”

“That’s h...half right,” murmured Leth, bemused.

“I dunno,” said Aly. “He hasn't shown this much interest in anything at all today, maybe you could let him have a...bite? Sip? However you would interact with all that?”

Flavia nodded, holding the mug out to the nanka. It waddled over and descended upon the brew with a savage enthusiasm, tentacles flailing, thick tail thumping, as surprisingly loud slurping, splorching sounds filled the air.

“He likes it!” Aly cheered. ”Flavia, you're a culinary genius specifically for nankas, that is a highly specialized skillset, good work with that!” The other woman beamed at the peculiar praise.

The group watched the strange, six-legged nanka messily finish its decidedly unwholesome repast, then scurry around the floor in circles, before scuttling around the corner and down the stairs.

“He certainly seems...energetic, now,” Victor remarked, brushing off his vest and shirt-sleeves as if he felt slightly less clean for just having been in the same room as the strange animal.

“Maybe he went downstairs to get more coffee,” Flavia suggested.

“That's p...probably not the best idea,” Leth said, heading downstairs himself. The others followed his lead.

But when they arrived, the sight that greeted them was not of a nanka burrowing into the beans, but of a nanka frolicking in the fountain. Aly clasped her hands together joyfully, and ran to the creature's side. “Look how moist he is again! And ooh, you're making so much slime, little guy!”

Leth joined Aly and looked down with dismayed distaste. “The w...water’s turning all viscous and s...slimy, like from a h...hagfish!”

Aly nodded, tapping her lips in thought. “Do you think we should save some slime for the next time he's looking a little dried out? Or maybe he should just stay in the fountain…”

Leth put his hand on the miqo'te’s shoulder. “Aly, this is a w...wild animal we don't know much about. D...do you really think it's a good idea to k...keep it?”

Aly looked up at Leth with earnest gray eyes. “There's a lot about *us* we don't know yet. Stuff about my past, the way your machine parts work… And besides, isn't this supposed to be a place that helps travelers who aren't sure of their way? This little guy is a long way from home, and he needs our help!”

Letharon, a long way from what he once called home himself, sighed. “What are you going to c...call it? It probably won't be a l..little guy, forever,” he noted with no small amount of trepidation.

“Yes,” Ciel agreed archly from the stairwell. “What are you going to name the ‘frog’?”

“That's a great idea, Ciel! We will name him Frog.”

In the fountain, Frog ceased his splashing, and put his front feet on the ledge. He looked out into the basement café, and seemed to nod. His tentacles bobbed in apparent agreement, and his tail swished and gently sloshed in a satisfied way. Another wayward wanderer had come to the Compass to stay.

@eorzeanharmony @garleanfluff @sharp-cast-sharper-words and more, thank you for sharing your wonderful characters.

You can visit the Compass too! https://compasscoffee.carrd.co

[wordynerdygurl]

Sticky, Sweet

Author’s Note:  I’m so pleased to tell you that this is the first of my 1000 Followers Requests!  Again, how do 1000 people like me enough to read my words?  I don’t know!!  But I love you all!   Also, bless my beta - @sammy-jo1977​ ... she lets me drag her to hell and back, and goes willingly.  Lots of Love, lady! Pairing:  Loki x Female Reader, appearances from many of the Avengers Tower residents Summary:  This was requested by the amazing, adorable and always supportive @alexakeyloveloki​ ... As I hit my milestone, she was having a birthday, and this, I hope will be a gift she’ll enjoy.  You deserve it girl! The request was:  One with Loki and a Curvy Reader where she works in the Tower, maybe the canteen, and people are mean to her and Loki likes her for some odd reason and... smut ensues. I did make some changes, but I hope you’ll enjoy it either way, @alexakeyloveloki​ !! Warnings:  This one might give you a toothache!  There’s smut, but it’s sweet!

“Uh, yes.  Might I trouble you for a chocolate croissant and… a cappuccino, large, please.”

You knew the owner of that voice without raising your eyes.  Today he was wearing charcoal grey slacks with straight creases all the way down.  A shirt, starched, bright white, with rolled back sleeves revealing the articulate length of his forearms.  All of his dark locks were gathered over his open collar in a low man bun, which is something you had laughed at other men for doing.  Somehow, the tall, trim man in front of you was making it work in a way that made your mouth water.

Flashing him a megawatt smile, full of promise, “My pleasure!  Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“No.  Thank you, though.”, warm and caramel sweet, his response made you melt.

Clearing your throat, struggling to maintain some sense of composure, “A name… for the order?”

“Loki… that’s L, O, K, I…”, his own grin widening at the request.

You knew his name.  He’d been coming to your little dessert cart for months now and every time you asked, just like you did for all of your customers.  And each time he spelled out the letters for you, as if you were taking his order for the first time.  Handing back change only for him to drop it into the tip jar, you let your eyes linger over Loki just a moment more, enjoying the view.

Most of the visitors to Avengers Tower paid you little to no attention.  Outside of offering a cup of joe and a giant cookie, you had no bearing on the day to day business of the super hero syndicate, and that was just fine by you.  Everyone else?  They all had important things to do.  Meetings and appointments were near constant as apparently saving the world took a lot of planning.  And, thankfully, a lot of coffee, danish and muffins.

Of all your customers, the actual, swear to God heroes were the most colorful.  They were also the most loyal of your clients, stopping in at least daily, although, there were occasions where you would see Wanda two or three times in a day.  Especially if you had made those little mille-feuille stacks that reminded her of home.

Thor would buy out your stash of jelly donuts, to the chagrin of the office workers in line behind him, but then divvy them up as a way of apologizing.  Ms. Romanoff had a tendency to whisper her order, lest anyone realize her secret desire for a sinfully sweet White Chocolate Mocha with whipped cream.  Captain Rogers?  His routine was the most straight-forward.  Black coffee, ma’am, Blueberry muffin, thank you so much.

Loki, from the start, had been different.  Unlike Mr. Stark, Loki looked you in the eye when placing his order.  He never seemed distracted by the technology buzzing around or the high ranking officials clustered in these hallowed halls.  Loki also didn’t order 12 shots of espresso, steamed skim milk, no foam, and one donut hole.  No, that was Tony to a t.

But Loki?  This giant guy, with broad shoulders and narrow hips, always ordered your daily special.  Frilly pink cupcakes, jam filled eclairs, fruity hand pies, Loki had tasted them all.  And he still turned up, day after day, eager and kind.  That had to mean something, right?

Honestly, it was the pinnacle of your day when, looking up from the grinder, you’d see him towering majestically over the office drones all in a row.  Knowing that smooth voice would soon be speaking to you, even if it was just to get a snack on the run, was almost enough.  Almost.

Letting your gaze linger after Loki’s retreating figure, you got lost in a daydream, one where you were making Loki coffee in your kitchen.  His lengthy legs tucked under your tiny table, a tray of fresh cookies in front of him as he read, sometimes with his shirt on… sometimes without.  Feeling your cheeks warm up at the image, you shook your head, ready to refocus on the caffeine craving customers still in line.

As closing time drew near, you began the daily task of cleaning up your cart.  Sweeping, wiping, sterilizing, washing, drying.  There was a rhythm to it all and you often found yourself entrained in the work, as usually there were few distractions at this time of day.  

“Excuse me?”  

Spinning, surprised, you barely kept hold of the carafe in your hands as you spotted Ms. Pepper Potts standing at your kiosk, “Oh gosh!  I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there!”

Waving away your worry, Pepper took a moment to introduce herself properly before getting down to business, “I was wondering if you had ever considered catering before?  You were highly recommended by a colleague and I am looking for assistance with an event we're hosting in a few weeks.  What I really need is someone to help with an after hours sort of thing.”

Your heart leapt in your chest, thumping wildly, threatening to bust out of your chest.  Now, you’d be lying if you said that expanding your business wasn’t part of the dream.  Always hopeful that your little cafe cart could somehow be expanded into a little sweet shop or bistro bakery, you had been hard at work for the last two years, slinging lattes and refining recipes until the right moment arrived.

When you said as much to Ms. Potts, her gracious smile lit up, “Then this, my friend, is that moment.”

Details were exchanged, pricing negotiated, plans put in place.  In ten days you were going to be providing The Avengers and their guests with pastries, cookies, coffee and tea.  There was a select menu so that you wouldn't be running around like crazy, which would make prep time easy, but Pepper had told you to be creative.  In short, you were getting your shot and the excitement of that put you on cloud nine.

As you had arranged with Ms. Potts, while the guests attended one of Mr. Stark’s lavish galas downtown, you were given access to the Avengers Suite near the top floors of the tower.  Seeing the building, well past your normal 5:00 pm, was energizing.  Getting to sneak a peek at where the most important people working here spent their days was overwhelming, but you were giddy at the prospect.

In a sweet spot, just inside the expansive glass doors which led to the sky rise patio, you set up your display.  Feeling pretty proud of yourself, you only had to wait a few minutes before the elevator dinged on the first arrivals, including the host and hostess for the night.  "Here we go!", whispering to yourself, you took an anxiously excited breath.

It was hard not to get wrapped up in the glitz of it all.  Tony Stark, wearing a plum colored tuxedo, had his Rolex draped arm around Pepper.  She was stunning in her black column gown, purple jewels at her throat and ears, the perfect counterpoint to Tony’s ensemble.  You struggled not to stare.

More people filtered in, some went to the bar, where champagne popped regularly.  A few grabbed frosty glasses of fresh beer.  And for a time you thought you were invisible among all the glamour around you.  Honestly, you were surrounded by the type of people who graced magazine covers and had in depth chats with Oprah.  That wasn’t you by a long shot.

Then, of course was the difference in your shape and size compared to the elegant group assembled for the evening.  You certainly weren’t as stately as Ms. Potts, nor as thin as Ms. Romanoff because she was trimmer in hip and bust.  Carol, stately and graceful, was a sheet of well hewed muscle.  All of them shone tonight, regal and lovely, while you wore your best black pants and white button down, the uniform of catering professionals world wide.

Chewing the inside of your cheek, temping your coffee pot, your mind churned.  There was no shaking the idea that even though you had been invited here, hired to be here, you were woefully out of place.  And just as your confidence was at its lowest, you heard it… or rather, him.

"Um… yes.  May I have… well… I don't know what to have.  Normally you have something special prepared."

Even over the din of chatter and softly played music you heard his baritone register.  A little flustered, disarmingly charming, Loki’s buttercream smile triggered your own.  Laughing, lifting a small tray towards Loki, "I am keeping it simple tonight.  These here are individual peach melba pies, topped with homemade whipped cream."

"And, what’s that?"  Looking like a little kid, ready to tear into a birthday present, Loki's face lit up with anticipation of what you might be hiding under the cover of a chafing dish.

"Mocha mini-cheesecakes, or-" Here you lifted the silver lid of your best party dish, "-my grandmother's chocolate chip cookies!  What would you like, Loki?"

Hearing his name in your lilting voice, Loki couldn't avoid the hot blush that rolled over him, turning his cheeks pink.  As if your delicious snacks weren't enticing enough, the way your shirt buttons could barely contain the bounty of your bosom made Loki's hunger real in a different way.  It was true that Thor had plied him with a great deal of Asgardian mead at the gala, even as the others drank up the less potent Midgardian spirits, all getting well past tipsy.

And maybe that's why he felt so bold, flirting with you casually, teasing you about your treats.  Also, he was shamelessly ogling your rounded ass in those tight black pants as you bent to retrieve a napkin.  Deep down, Loki longed to know if you tasted as sweet as your sugary confections.  Would you be slick like syrup?  Sticky like cinnamon buns?  Dark and delicious like chocolate fudge?

Shaking those long locks, which you couldn't help noticing were down and free tonight, Loki was struggling to decide among your snacks.  If his thoughts were lustful, your own weren't too far behind, because it was hard not to appreciate the fine figure in front of you.  At some point Loki had shucked his tuxedo jacket and the slim black bow tie that accompanied it.  Again his sleeves were pushed up to his elbows making him casual and cool, red cheeked and rambunctious.  Never had Loki seemed so at ease.

There was virtually no one else around, most of the remaining people were clustered by Clint at the piano singing show tunes, oblivious to you and Loki.  Looking from left to right, leaning in conspiratorially, "Ya know… I could let you have one of each, then you wouldn't have to decide."

Those dark brows arching, bright eyes smiling shrewdly, "You'd do that… for me?"

“That and more.”  It tumbled out of your mouth unbidden, your eyes widening in surprise at your own admission.

Leaning against your table, a lascivious smile on his face, “Do tell.”

And in the low light of the Avengers’ loft, with the soft smell of sugar filling the air, you felt yourself drawn to Loki’s aura.  Biting into your bottom lip, looking at him through your thick lashes, “Um… well… I could make you a little snack bag.  Ya know for later tonight…”

“Later tonight… I really like the sound of that.”  And to his unending surprise, Loki really did.  Maybe he’d find out about your favorite flavors in the dark of night, under the covers in his bed.  And if not, if he was somehow mistaken about your interest in him, then Loki would welcome some little cake that would make him think of you while he sat in his solitary room, brooding over you.

He shouldn’t have worried.  Genuinely smiling, Loki was beyond grateful to see the same look of desire reflected in your own face.  As you busied yourself packing up the little box of selected snacks for the sweet toothed stud, a voice called out, "Lokes!!  Get over here!!  Thor says you can dance and I need proof!"

Wavering slightly, Loki ducked his head in the direction of Sam Wilson's shout, not entirely eager to end your chat.  He was worried that somehow the sugar spun bubble you two were in would burst, and that, well that just couldn't happen.  Conspiratorially, invading your space across the narrow table, "I will be back.  Please, don't go away?"

Feeling like a movie heroine, you felt yourself nod, giggling a little at the spectacle of Loki's clear need.  In the glimmering low-lights, under the clink of champagne flutes and husky hum of conversations, Loki wanted to spend his time with you.  It was surreal and surprising, but you wanted him too.  There was no shame in that, right?

Glued to the spot, feet unmoving, Loki wouldn't leave until you said, "Go on, then.  Show me what you've got.  I'll be right here."

With a cocky grin, Loki loped toward the waiting circle of people and the makeshift dance floor.  Tinny, tinkling piano music was replaced by electronica, pumping through Tony's beyond state of the art sound system.  It felt like you were inside the speaker, thumping and bumping, in time with the dance hall beat.

What a sight!  You guessed it shouldn't have been so surprising, but seeing Loki, normally so reserved in your daily interactions, grinding and bouncing to the rhythm… it made you feel things.  Pulse pounding, deep sighing, clenching your muscles things.  Sexy things.

You could have stood there, enchanted from afar, for hours.  And you would have too, if Thor hadn't stumbled to your stand, nearly toppling the table with his unsteady bulk, "Oof!  A thousand apologies, my dear sweet bakery maiden."

Diverting your attention, you quickly stepped back into vendor mode, "No trouble!  No trouble at all!  What can I get for you?"

"Well, I have been wondering, what did my brother get a taste of that made him smile so wide?  It must have been a truly delicious nibble."  Thor, mimicking a mouse nibbling at cheese, was clearly past the point of sobriety.  

Turning thoughtful for a second, you realized Loki hadn't eaten anything of yours tonight… at least not yet.  So it had been your easy back and forth that made the frosty boy happy.  Smiling secretively,  suddenly supremely pleased, "Um… I have some special items this evening.  Would you like to try a peach pie?"

Blowing a raspberry, rolling his eyes, "Did Loki like it?"

"He hasn't tried it yet!  You'd be first!"  Trying to redirect the sloshed slab of man in front of you, offering the pastry up on a dainty napkin, it’s funny how quickly he snatches it from your hand.  Looking tiny in Thor's enormous paw, he devours it whole, swiping at the leftover crumbs on his chest.

"Delicious!  Another!"  Even shouting, Thor's voice doesn't crack through the party goers busting their moves. Sighing, you hand over another, only to watch it be gulped down without thought or consideration.

Spitting crust at you, Thor bows over the display you painstakingly built to showcase your wares, his weight making the table creak, "You know, my brother normally likes little women."

"Excuse me?"

Waving his hands, pontificating, "Small, shapely… you know the type!  Waifs.  Skinny, like him.  Narrow hips and-" attempting to whisper, "-tiny breasts."

Clearly, Thor was hammered, you knew that.  But what he was saying was just hard to hear.  You didn’t want to be compared to other women Loki had known, and you certainly didn’t want to hear that they were prettier, or smaller, or skinnier than you.  But your roller coaster ride of emotions was derailed when Thor slapped his hand on your table, making you jump.

"Now, you… you're a woman.  Strong, sturdy.  Could really ground him, you know?  Give him children worthy of Valhalla."

In his stupor, Thor couldn't read the warning in your expression.  Willing him to stop, shut up, go away with just your monosyllabic responses wasn't working.  But, alas, the Space God continued on, "It's all your sweets, you know?  Candy and cupcakes and… all those little… What do you call them?  The circles, fried and filled with jam?"

Flat, without feeling, "Donuts."

"Donuts!  Yes!"  Pausing for a breath, which you hoped would last all night long, Thor caught your eye.  "I approve.  Of the match… that is.  Loki has been alone too long.  He needs a thick woman to warm his bed, a fair, faithful filly to take-"

Thor's voice cut out, a thin line of shimmering red glowing around his throat, stopping his words.  You could still see his mouth moving but the sound was, thankfully, muted.  It was then that Wanda slunk close to Norse God, wide orb-like eyes full of knowledge, "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner."

Mumbling, struggling to sound bright as you gave too much attention to arranging cookies on the tray, "It's ok."

Her delicate hand rested on your own, "No it isn't.  Thor's a buffoon when he's downed too many bottles of mead.  I hope he didn't say anything too… unpleasant."

Waving her off, working hard to regain your composure, "Naw… it's fine… Thank you, though."

Thor, shrugging off Wanda's limited charm, "What's the big idea?  I was telling this lady that my brother likes her!  Her ample bosom, her gracious bum… and he always talks about her tasty cakes!"

Steve, sidling up at the first sign of trouble, grabbed Thor's arm, "Come on buddy.  Time for bed."

"But!  I am not tired!  I want more pie!  And mead!"

Wanda, rolling her eyes, "May I have another?  For the road?"

Quickly wrapping up a few of your crusty delicacies, you handed them over, now eager for the night to end.  It seemed tarnished somehow, spoiled by Thor's observations, like an unrisen souffle.  Glancing at the clock, you were amazed at the time!  It was late even for a late night event and you began packing up regardless of the people still partying their evening away.

You were hoping for a quick departure.  Seamless, silent, without distracting anyone, including a certain raven haired hottie.  No one would notice if you snuck away now, you were sure, and you had already fulfilled your obligation to Pepper.  In fact, with Thor's little outburst, you were well over your allotted time.  And, you reasoned, Loki could find some small little twig, more to his taste, if you weren't there to distract him.

That thought made your throat burn and your eyes water as you quietly broke down your area.  Even now you could see him, a head above everyone else, spinning with a smile on his face.  Loki looked so at ease, you refused to be the wet blanket on his good time.  Besides, flirting was one thing, but Loki wasn’t yours and you were old enough not to be crushed by a crush.

With one last, longing look over the assembled Avengers, you bumped your bottom into the exit door, shuffling toward the service elevator.  As the doors closed, shutting out the jubilation inside, you slumped against the wall.  How could you think Loki would want you?  

Having spent a significant amount of the late evening busting a move, Loki had managed to keep one eye on you most of that time.  Noticing Thor bumble your way, he was nervous about what his brother might say, but Natasha had challenged him to a dance off.  How could he resist?

By the time Loki stopped to catch his breath and collect his cookies, you were gone.  Vanished.  The only trace of you?  A small, golden box, stuffed with your divine delicacies.  Loki needn't see the name scrolled on the label to know it was for him.

But like Cinderella, you had fled and Loki had no way to find you.  Sinking his heart, Loki clutched the box, padding away to his room and the solitude of silence.  At least he had your thoughtful gift of goodies to keep him company.  It was almost enough.  Almost.

For all the numerous things The Avengers were good at, it was a non-hero who observed Loki slide away, sad and silent.  Never one to let a party end on a low note, a new plan was formed to unite the Trickster and the Treat Maker.  But it would need time to rise, like decadent cinnamon rolls, and like those sticky sweet buns, would be totally worth the wait.

When Monday dawned, you loaded up your goods and trudged to work.  For the first time since starting your business venture your heart wasn't in it.  Not when you plated blueberry buckle with lavender scented whipped cream, not when you swirled almond milk into fresh brewed coffee, not when you bagged cheesy bagel bites.

And it was, apparently, to be a day of firsts.  Because this was the only day that Loki failed to make an appearance at your stand since you’d opened.  Thor, pushing people aside, had made a point of apologizing for his behavior.  It was kind and honest, yet, hollow since it didn't make Loki materialize in your line.  But you appreciated it, nonetheless.

Before long, the day was done, your cleaning ritual initiated, your mind wandering.  That it circled back to a certain blue eyed mischief maker over and over wasn't shocking.  Where had Loki been?  Had you driven him off?  Would he come back tomorrow?  

"Ahem… Excuse me!"

Squealing, you dropped the tray you'd been wiping with a clanking clatter, "Miss Potts!  You startled me!"

"I didn't mean to!", stooping to hand you back your platter, she lifted her smart eyes to yours.

"I know… I'm so sorry!  I've been… a little off today."

Shrewd, searching, Pepper looked you over, "You're not the only one."

Laughing nervously, “Oh?  Who else is having a tough Monday?”

“A friend… listen, I wanted to thank you for the other night. It was really wonderful having your exceptional snacks at the ready.”

Allowing yourself a small smile, nibbling your lip nervously, “The pleasure was all mine.”

Pepper, shifting on her high heels, “I’d like to hire you again.”

“Really?”  Snapping your head up at the offer, you were a little surprised by her request.  Even though that night hadn’t ended the way you had hoped, necking with Loki like a teenager after prom, it had still been a lucrative evening for your little start up company.  But so soon?

“Yes! This is a smaller event.  Actually, more of a date than anything.  This Friday evening.  Would you be free?”

Grabbing your phone, confirming the date on your calendar, “It works for me!  What time were you thinking?”

Blinking, Pepper took a minute to contemplate before answering, “Let’s say seven.  Upstairs, on the outdoor deck?”

“That sounds great, Ms. Potts!  How many people are you expecting?”, making notes, head down you missed her gentle smile.

“Just two.”

That made you giggle.  So, it was a night of romance with Tony she was after.  Flashing your benefactor a knowing smirk, “Sounds lovely.”

“I hope it will be!”

You didn’t see Loki all week.  There was rumor going around the tower that he was off on a mission somewhere, very hush, hush.  Your limited intell was gained only because of Thor’s inability to lower his booming voice while waiting for a croissant on Tuesday morning.

It got easier.  Not seeing him in your daily line, not giving him his cappuccino, not buttering his scone.  By Friday you finally felt like Loki was out of your system, which was a good thing, because you knew Ms. Potts was expecting you to knock it out of the park tonight.

“Things are going to be a little different for this evening, if that’s ok.  I thought you could set out your dessert courses here, on the counter, and we’d have someone bring them out to the patio area.”

Unafraid to go the extra mile, you were quick to volunteer, “I’d be more than happy to act as a server if-”

Talking over you, “Oh no, dear!  I have someone for that already.  Really, all you have to do is make sure your treats are in order.”

Slightly crestfallen, but always a good sport, you agreed.  As she’d requested, you had prepared three special desserts for the night, hoping you covered all of Tony’s favorite flavors.  First, lemon cake with a cracked sugar glaze and fresh raspberry sauce to garnish.  Next would be the white chocolate cheesecake studded with plump blueberries and piles of fresh vanilla flavored whipped cream.  Last, and perhaps most importantly, was your personal favorite, tiramisu.  Simple, delicious, and perfect with a strong cup of espresso.

Clapping her hands, Pepper was so pleased at the thought you had put into each plate, “Wow, does this look amazing!  There’s really only one other thing that we need for this.”  

Wiping a stray stripe of sauce from the plate, a piping bag cupped in your hands, you lifted your head, “What’s that Ms. Potts?”

“Why, you of course.”

Stalling in midair, you slowly lowered the tool of your trade, wiping your sugary fingers on the seat of your jeans.  “I’m right here!  What can I do to help?”

Coming around the island now, Pepper drew close enough to take your hands in her own, “You’ve already done it.  Tonight is my way of saying ‘Thank You’... and I hope you’ll accept a small gift as a token of my appreciation.”

As the last word hung in the air between you, the lift doors parted, and Loki stepped into the room.  

Pepper had summoned him, asking only that he arrive on time and not “look a mess”.  Since Loki had never been anything less than elegant in all things, he had no intention of breaking that streak this evening.  If only he knew what to dress for?

So, he split the difference, going for casual cool.  A jet black polo shirt, unbuttoned, clung to him like a second skin, caressing every muscle.  Black trousers and a black belt made him look dangerously seductive as he sauntered closer with each step.

Your mouth went dry at the sight of him.  Missing Loki all week made seeing him like this stupefying.  Fuzzy brained and dull minded, you weren’t capable of wrapping your head around what was happening.

“Pepper?  What… what is all this?”  Loki’s husky baritone questioned the set up, your presence, the pretense.  At least you weren't the only one who was confused.

Pulling you along, Pepper maneuvered you next to him, “Loki, It’s all arranged.  Dessert by candlelight, under the stars… FRIDAY, start my Date Night playlist.”  The strains of “In the Still of the Night” by the Five Satins filled the air.

It was right then that Loki got it.  The strange summons, the dress code, the secrecy.  He knew why you were here, with your bespoke baked goods, looking like a snack yourself.  Pepper had listened when Loki recommended you for the first gig, and somehow she had heard the unspoken recommendation of his heart.  A rush of feeling flowed over him at the idea.  

Looking sheepish and flustered, Loki caught your eye, “Hello.”

“Hi…”, bashful yourself, you struggled not to look too giddy.

“See, you’re already on your way.  Have a good night kids!”  

You and Loki stood there, staring, until the click of Pepper’s heels on the marble had faded away.  This is  awkward, you thought, unsure of what to do next.  Here with the man you wanted, you weren’t entirely sure what to do, but luckily for you, Loki knew how to take charge, “Shall we?”

Lacing his fingers with yours, Loki led you to the open deck where a small bistro table was waiting, already set for the two of you.  Pulling out your chair, Loki made sure you were comfortable before taking his own seat at your side, as opposed to across the table.  It was a cozy and romantic scene.

The song shifted.  Now The Platters crooned, “Only You”, and your hand was itching to grab Loki’s under the table.  Before you could, Pepper’s hired server for the evening brought your first plate, and a bottle of Prosecco.  

So far, neither of you had really spoken.  Words seemed too difficult to use when the situation was so formal.  And yet, it really was lovely of Ms. Potts to do this for you… and for Loki.

“Did you make all of this?”

Picking up your fork, giving Loki a small nod, “Yea… I thought Pepper was planning a date night with Tony.  I had no idea that this… any of this… was happening.  Did you?”

“No.  But, I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised.  She did hire you because of me.”

Taken aback by his admission, “Really?  Care to elaborate?”

Tucking into the lemony piece of heaven in front of him, Loki closed his eyes in bliss, “Hmm… that is delicious.  You are really so good at this!  And that, my purveyor of pound cake, is what I told Ms. Potts.”      

“Well, thank you!  I mean, I knew you liked me!”  

Hotter than opening your oven, a blast of heat swept over you, reddening your cheeks in shock.  Flustered now, you could barely speak, cursing yourself for letting your real feelings slip out like that unfiltered.  Mortified, you grabbed your glass, slugging half of it down in a second.

Loki’s fork froze, almost to his lips, as his own eyes widened.  Sighing, he placed the utensil, covered in lemon and raspberry deliciousness down gently.  Feeling his scorching gaze, you sat stock still, Loki’s wry whisper reaching you, “I do.  And I should have told you that before… before Pepper had to go to such great lengths to prove it.”

“But Loki… I’m just… I’m not…”  Stammering, you couldn’t quite find the best way to explain the reservations you had been carrying, the reasons Thor had so clearly defined.

“You are though.  You are so kind hearted… to everyone.  Even the dullards and bores.  I hear you, you know?  What you say, how you say it.  No one leaves your little station without being complimented, enlightened, enriched.  It is the best part of my day, coming down to see you… and taste whatever marzipan masterpiece you’ve graced us with.”

Starting to feel the bubbles of Prosecco in your brain, your lopsided smile spread at the emotion Loki expressed, “Loki… it’s the only thing that gets me through sometimes.  Seeing you, knowing that you’re in line.  And how cute you are when you spell out your name, like I haven’t written it a hundred times before.”

It was his turn to blush, “I knew that.  I knew it was adorable.”

Playfully pushing against his shoulder, you chuckled, “Loki!  That’s not fair!”

“Then you won’t like this, darling.”  

Catching your arms in his firm hands, Loki tucked your body into his, finding your mouth as you laughed at his antics.  Using his top lip to trap your own, Loki’s bottom lip gently parted, as the softness of his kiss blended into the lemon scented sweetness of his sigh.  His tongue, probing slowly, pressed between your lips stealing a shaky breath for Loki to treasure.

Rising, Loki’s hands cradled your cheeks, ensuring that you couldn’t break away from his kiss.  As if you wanted to!  Your own hands wandered, with one resting on the warm slope of his wide thigh and the other pressed against Loki’s broad chest.

Deepening the kiss, you pushed forward, nestling between Loki’s spread legs.  Trailing a hand along his hip, scooting closer, you moaned at the luscious texture of his tongue on your own.  When Loki pulled back, you followed, unwilling to break the beautiful bond your mouths had sealed.

Swallowing hard, unable to believe that he was really here with the flavor of your candy kisses filling his senses, Loki shook his head.  Seeing your own dazed expression made his heart soar.  He was going to have to write Pepper a thank you note or have you bake her a cake, because this was the best thing that had ever happened to the Prince of Asgard.

“Are you ready for the next course?”  The server, having popped out of the compound, was struggling to hide his own smug smile at the sexy little show you two had put on.

A new song started, the notes drifting through the air, making you smile.  Sam Cooke’s eternally youthful voice sang, “Cupid… draw back your bow…” and Loki slowly stood.  “Uh, please, hold the next one, if you don’t mind.”

Coming around behind you, offering you his hand, “Loki?  What are you doing?”

“What I should have done last week… Ask you to dance…?”   Voice brimming with hope, Loki quirked an eyebrow, anticipating your acceptance.

“About time.”  

Rumbling through Loki’s solid torso, his laugh greeted you as you fell into his arms easily, chuckling yourself.  It was so familiar and yet so different.  His hands rested over the curve of your back, pulling you tighter, controlling the sway of your hips.  Circling the delicate strength of his neck, your fingers teasing into those long locks of tousled hair, you let Loki take the lead.  

Tipping you back, over balancing you but still in control, Loki’s look was pure lust, “I apologize for running late.  I should have-”

Cutting in, husking into the shell of Loki’s ear, “Don’t.  We’re here now.  And besides, you were worth the wait.”

Squeezing you, putting every ounce of feeling into his hug, Loki found it hard to loosen his grip.  Now that he had the thing he wanted, he never wanted to be separated from it… you… ever again.  

Twirling you out, tugging you back in, as the song came to its close, Loki took the opportunity of dipping you low enough for your head to graze the ground below.  Breathless and giddy, you were lifted back to standing, clinging to the demi God before you.  Parting your lips, anticipating another of Loki’s kisses, your eyes fluttering closed, “Sir?  Madame?”  

Shifting his focus from your glossy, eager mouth to the server once more, Loki’s own giggle shining in his face, “My good man, please… just pack it all up!  We’re not staying.”

“We’re not?”  A hint of surprise colored your tone as you took in the ecstatic look on Loki’s face.

Nodding at you, “Nope.”

Waiting only a moment or two for a bag stuffed full of your goodies, Loki slung it over this wrist before taking your hand and leading you through the Tower’s maze of floors.  Of course, he stopped at almost every corner to sneak a peck, pat your tush or cage you against the wall so that his hips were flush against your own as he licked the soft spot under your ear.

“Hmmm… Loki… That feels so good.”  Mewling softly, your nails scratching into his scalp, as he swung open the door to his room.

Ushering you inside, Loki paused only to set his blistering, needy eyes on you once more, “We are not children, you and I.  If you want to wait, I will be patient… but, believe me, my darling little patisserie, when I say this:  I want you.  I want to devour you… I want to know if you’re as sweet as strawberry shortcake or tart like key lime pie.

“I need to see if you-” here he swallowed so hard his Adam’s Apple bobbed, “-sigh when I kiss you the same way you do when you slide a hot cup of tea over the counter.  Or how you’ll sound when you call my name in ecstasy.  Because I’ve already thought about these things a hundred times over.  While I wait in line for a moment of your attention or when I taste those lovely delicacies, you fill my thoughts.

“Do you always smell of vanilla and butter, I wonder.  Will my sheets be scented with marshmallow and marzipan?  Almond and cherry?”

Advancing on you now, hunger heating his look, “But just know, little one, if you do come to my bed, I will make sure it’s the last one you’ll ever need.”

Stepping closer, baiting the bear in him, you bit into your bottom lip, “Are you saying that everyone will know I belong to you… L, O, K, I… Loki?”

“My sweet, sweet thing.  That is exactly what I mean.”

In a flurry of movement, Loki swept you against his kitchen table, the wood strong and sturdy behind you.  Kisses, hot and happy melted you like butter, as Loki spread your legs to stand between them.  When you heard the sound of paper crumpling, “What’s that?”

“Oh!  Our to-go bag!  Your luscious desserts!”  Sounding slightly panicked, Loki quickly removed the items from inside the bag, before turning to you with a look that said trouble.

“What?  What’s that face?”  

“I’ve told you how much I fancy your food… and now you know how much I adore you... “

“Uh huh…”, still unsure about where this was going, your eyes followed Loki as he pulled your tub of whipped cream from the ruined sack.  Snapping off the lid, his long finger scooping out a big glob, only for Loki to brush the airy confection over your mouth.  

Licking the cream from your lips, Loki tongued the seam of your pretty pout, moaning at the burst of vanilla he tasted there, “I don’t know what’s more delicious, your frothy garnish or this mouth.”

“What if I want some, huh?”  Grabbing at Loki’s finger, the one he’d used to snag the sample with, you pulled it into the warm inlet of your mouth, sucking lightly.

Growling low in his throat at the erotic scene before him, Loki issued a command, “Bedroom.  Now.”

Sliding off the table, right into Loki’s space, “Bring the whipped cream though, ok?”

Clothes were shed in a rush.  Each piece unveiling soft skin and new places to explore, reminding you of a creme brulee’s hardened caramel layer.  The way you crack it open, revealing the cool custard beneath the scorched sugar crust, a gift unwrapped for all your senses.

By the time Loki lowered you onto his bed, he had already sampled swatches of your skin, leaving behind the marks of his possession.  His hands never seemed to stop.  First they were dusting over your shoulders, then across your thighs, next on your generous bottom, squeezing hard.

Sighing in contentment, you closed your eyes, lost in the moment of making love to Loki.  As he lay down over you, the press of his rigid planes met the soft curves of your figure, you wrapped yourself around him.  Tangling those rich, dark locks in your hand, forcing your mouths together, panting with shared passion.

Connecting with his hip, you slid your palm over the rise of his bottom, squeezing just a little, “You know, you have a great ass, right?”

Sucking against the ridge of your clavicle, Loki kissed over your jaw, “I do?”

“Oh yea… I watch you walk away everyday thinking, damn.  That ass.”

Brushing stray strands from your face, “That’s funny, because I think the same thing every time you bend over to get those little swizzle sticks for stirring coffee!”

Setting off a fit of giggles, the pair of you with arms and legs akimbo, laughed like children.  There was something so freeing about being naked and comfortable with the man beside you.  Quieting only when you heard the pop of the frosting bowl's lid coming off, you sucked in a breath as Loki lowered his lips to your waiting nipple.  

Playful and pleasing, he released you just long enough to sit back on his heels, surveying the state of you.  "Now, It's my turn."

"Your turn to what, exactly?"

"Decorate!"  Producing an assortment of sprinkles and frosting, sanding sugars and coconut shreds, caramel sauce and raspberry coulis as if from thin air, Loki grinned at you wickedly before setting to work.

For every place that was home to a dollop of icing or a squirt of sauce you were licked, nibbled, nuzzled or bitten.  As Loki worked lower, you squirmed in anticipation, as your pastry chef in training sucked your inner thigh free of chocolate fudge.  Before you could prepare, Loki's tongue parted your slippery center, making you call out, "Oh!  Yes, Loki!"

Parting your swollen sex, circling your stiffened bud, Loki lapped at your sensitive skin gently.  His fingers, long and reaching, stroked into your sticky channel, stretching you sweetly.  Rocking against Loki's oral affections, the beginning of bliss burning in your belly, you gripped him tightly seeking release.  

For his part, Loki needed no encouragement.  Bringing you to the pinnacle, alternately sipping at your slick core, and sucking on your sweet pearl was making Loki ache with want.  Even when you pulled at his onyx locks, inner thighs trembling, struggling to stave off your peaking pleasure, Loki only worked harder, "Don't hold back.  We've already wasted too much time!"

"Uh huh… um… shit… Loki…"  mumbling was the most you could do as you felt a third finger enter you, widening you, readying you.  It was enough.  Cumming hard against him, stiffening and then softening like taffy, you gave yourself over to the pleasure Loki provided.  

Smacking his lips lewdly, licking his fingers, "I knew it… I knew you'd be delectable."

Grinning broadly, happy and satisfied, "Am I gonna get a taste?  You're not the only one with a sweet tooth, ya know!"

"Only when I've had my fill… and I'm not close to being finished, darling!"

Sticky, sweet and satiated, you and Loki lay in each other's arms smiling.  He'd asked about a gift for Pepper and you were already planning a cupcake basket for your matchmaking mentor.  You had just licked the last of your lemon curd from his abs, curling into his side, "I need a shower."

"Oh, yes!  Let's do that!"  Rising, dragging you with him, Loki could picture you under the steaming water, begging him to please you.  He liked that idea!

"And after…"

Pausing to look at you, "After?"

"Can you find me something salty to snack on… ya know, for a change?"

Pressing a kiss to your hand, Loki flashed you that megawatt smile, "Absolutely, darling.  Absolutely."

~~

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