Tumgik
#after reading about how less they get paid we should definitely appreciate them more!
lil-shiro · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Harry appreciation post! And also all the crew because they need to be valued (and paid) more in F1 .
If u didn’t know, Harry’s been with the team since Force India, so he’s known Lance ever since RP days. He was a mechanic on Nico’s, then Checo’s side of the garage. This year he got promoted to Lance’s No.1 mechanic. They get along well 💚
Source.
314 notes · View notes
dalmascan-requiem · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Dalmascan Requiem: Mentor
(Vierapril Day 13 - Mentor)
-------
While it's important for the two Viera to learn how to acclimate to life in Dalmasca better, perhaps bartending isn't their forte.
-------
Read on AO3 or keep reading after the jump
content warnings: mention of alcohol
Check out the main Vierapril 2023 post here
------
This particular fic focuses on Gemna, who was definitely a mentor to the two while they acclimated to life outside the jungle. And also she's just great, I love writing about her, lol. I do plan on making this one a "chapter 0" of sorts to a longer fic, when I have the time, so I'm just using the prompt name for the title of this one, for now!
"Gods, you both are hopeless."
Gemna takes the shaker cups away from the two Viera. "They're shaker cups. You shake the drink in them then pour it into a proper glass for the customer. Were you two raised in a barn?"
"No, we were raised in the jungl--ow!" Gale rubs his nose where Gemna flicked it. "Why did you do that?!"
"For getting smart with me." Gemma lets out an exaggerated sigh as she pours one of the drinks into a glass. "See? Looks much better, doesn't it? Come now, have you ever gotten a drink in a cup like this?" The Bangaa gestures towards the shaker cups.
Gale hesitates for a moment, no doubt contemplating if it was better to tell Gemna the answer she wanted to hear, or to tell her the truth. Eventually, he lets out a huff. "...I don't know, I've never really paid attention to the glass my drinks were in…"
"Well, you should." Gemna holds the glass up near her face. "Clear glasses let you see your drink. Of course, it's nice to look at, but you can also make sure there is nothing off about the drink. Whether that's malicious intent or merely badly made… Speaking of."
The Banjaa suddenly spins towards Laurent, who, while originally bemused by the two arguing is now concerned he's the center of attention. "Laurent, what in the hells even is this?"
Gemma pours the contents of the other shaker cup into a glass, which looks decidedly different (and looks decidedly less appealing) from Gale's drink. "I gave you both the same instructions. Why is this so dark?"
Laurent crosses his arms and grumbles. "Recipe looked like it needed something."
"Needed something? It's a recipe for a reason! You follow it!"
"It looked like a weak drink."
"You barely even drink, how would you know?! What is in this?!"
Laurent looks to the side and mumbles, barely audible. "...More alcohol… and… maybe some of that…" He waves non-distinctly in the direction of the bottles behind the bar, not pointing out any particular one.
"I swear--" Gemna takes a deep breath, then hands Laurent the drink. "Drink it."
"...I don't really want to--"
"If you're making a new recipe, you need to test your creation before serving it. So… go ahead, take a sip."
"Wouldn't it be better if--" Laurent suddenly cuts himself off when he sees the look Gemna is giving him. With a sigh, he frowns down at the alcohol. After another moment, he takes a drink, downing half the glass before setting it down on the countertop.
"Well, how is it?"
Laurent doesn't respond, opting to stare at a spot on the wall instead of acknowledging Gemna's question. She chuckles. "So bad you need to use all your willpower to keep it down. So stubborn." While he continues to say nothing, the furrow in Laurent's brow suggests that the Bangaa is not wrong.
"You'd think making a drink is harder than figuring out where to stab a man the way you two handle it." Gemna throws her hands in the air in a dramatic fashion. "Well, at least Gale's drink doesn't look toxic, I suppose."
Gale uses this moment to interject. "Gemna, while I… appreciate learning new skills, I don't know how well-suited for bartending we are. And stabbing men is easier, you don't need a recipe to know where the heart is." The blue-haired Viera gives a small shrug before continuing. "Why are you so determined to teach us how to run the bar?"
Gemna crosses her arms, and when she continues the Bangaa sounds serious. "I'm old, and I'm not getting any younger, boys. We Bangaa don't live as long as you do. You two can't keep doing what you're doing now forever." She shakes her head. "I just want to make sure you can take care of yourselves when you need to move on. And when I'm gone."
Suddenly, Gemna chuckles. "Sometimes I worry you two wouldn't even be able to feed yourselves!" 
Gale looks surprised for a moment, before letting out a small chuckle himself. "I know how to cook already, Gemna. And I worry Laurent would poison himself if he tried to learn."
Laurent glares at Gale. "That was only one ti--" He suddenly stops talking again and goes back to staring at the wall.
"My love, you don't need to try and convince us the drink you made is something any of us can stomach. Don't make yourself sick trying to do so."
The dark-haired Rava shoots an angry glance at Gale before turning on his heel and walking out the back door.
"I believe he is mad at you, Gale."
"Laurent will be fine once his stomach feels better." Gale turns away from the door and back to Gemna with a soft smile on his face. "I don't think we thank you enough. I'm not sure why you have taken a liking to us, but thank you. For everything."
Gemna scoffs and waves Gale off. "Please. I just don't want to deal with you two causing trouble in front of my bar. And I needed some employees." With that, the Bangaa takes a sip of the drink Gale made, only to frown. "Godsdamnit, Laurent was right."
"What do you mean?"
"This drink is weak."
5 notes · View notes
petenicholls · 2 years
Text
Pete.ink/weekly August 2022 Week 3 (of 4.5)
Welcome to Pete.ink/weekly for week 3 (of 4.5) of August 2022! Yep, August ends in the middle of the week so the fourth Pete.ink/weekly will be available the first weekend of September. Last week I said I might have some news by the end of the week--yeah, as the month has passed so have my hopes! 😅Just like most months, but hey, I've still been successful with creating content consistently every week since the beginning of March! So, I think we should take that as a win.
Just a quick reminder that I have 3 limited edition t-shirts on sale, all of which will disappear from the internet with in 3 weeks (or less). A great way to support me is buying one and wearing it everywhere you go! Never take it off. Shower in it! This would mean a lot to me! Head on over Pete.ink/merch to take a look at these incredible works of art that will look amazing on you, you amazingly gorgeous human being! That link once again: Pete.ink/merch
Anyway, on with week 3!!!
Monday, August 15, 2022
Tumblr media
Some thoughts on this week's FacingLife.WTF:
I keep feeling the need to tweak the female face's design. I really prefer her flat-topped eyes but showing her eyelids does make her look more female to me. Of course, even thinking about this brings up all kinds of anxiety with American culture trying to become more free and open to more than just the two genders. As an ally to all humans, I hesitate to even talk about gender appearances and feel like I'm opening myself to criticism by even having a binary gendered pair of characters. The thing is, binary genders is the world I've known for most of my life. Recognizing and interacting with trans and gender fluid people in my every day life is a common occurrence but because we see them so rarely in media, I'm not able to easily know how to represent them in my own work. In real life it's easy to interact with them--I just treat them like normal people. In art, however, I feel like it's a much more complicated issue. I'm definitely working on it, though.
Tuesday, August 15, 2022
Tumblr media
Have you started reading FutureBlog, yet? If not, start here! If you have, go read chapter 5 now!
Wednesday, August 15, 2022
Tumblr media
Do aliens not visit us because they are bigoted toward us? What do you think?
Often everyone's pal, Jay The Pal, likes to post a video on Wednesdays called WednesJAY! Here is this week's WednesJAY which breaks the mold of previous WednesJAYs!https://www.youtube.com/embed/embed/9RyQloUvisY
youtube
Thursday, August 15, 2022
Week 1 of my 2022 Nerd Shirt of the Day Marathon is complete! See all the Nerd Shirts so far!https://www.youtube.com/embed/embed/YEAfU1lAjEw
youtube
Which Nerd Shirt is your favorite?
Stay tuned for the Nerd Shirts from week 2 in the next Pete.ink/weekly or check them out daily by following me on my socials!
Friday, August 15, 2022
Tumblr media
Skipped Judgie Bear last week for a special perp walk edition of Goings On! This month's Judgie is a direct sequel to last month's and portrays the true irony of Judgie Bear's existence.
That's it for this week's Pete.ink/weekly!
Please consider supporting me by sharing my work with your friends, following me on social media (Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, Tiktok), or supporting me financially by getting a subscription/membership on my Patreon, BuyMeACoffee, or Tumblr. They start at just $2/mo! Cancel any time! Subscribing to my Substacks is another way to help! Each Substack will run you $5/mo. Again, you can cancel at any time.You can also just throw a couple bucks to my Venmo or Paypal if ya want, too!
While sharing is literally how you will help me build an audience, enough people getting paid subscriptions/memberships/etc is how I'll pay my rent and bills longterm. No one does anything alone, after all. So, whatever you can do, I will appreciate it! Thanks!
And thanks again for reading!
Have a great week and hope you enjoyed my ink!
-Pete!
Tumblr media
0 notes
scandalsavagefanfic · 3 years
Note
Hello! I am a huge fan of ur writing. I've loved everything I've read of yours. I've read alot of what you've posted, except for a couple of the tags that are squicky for me (so I'm very thankful you tag very thoroughly). No judgement for the squick, it's just not for me. & when I'm having a bad day, I usually just go thru ur ao3 and find something to reread. I think about Therapy's Bruce & Jason every damn day. While I obvs appreciate ur darker more "problematic" content (I really vibe with some of the themes you write about bc of my own trauma, & so it's very cathartic to read about in a fictional setting), I am truly a sucker for ur more happy content. The Happily Ever After verse also lives in my head rent free. Idk more wholesome stuff just seems more special when you write it. Anyways. I would die for you. But the point of this ask is cause I'm curious as to why you don't like Urban Legends? I'm sorry if you already talked about it here or on twitter and I missed it. I was just wondering because I really enjoy your take on things and would love to hear why you dislike it. I've been enjoying it so far personally, but I am always open to DC comics criticism.
Aw thank you so much! I'm so flattered by everything you just said. You're so sweet ❤❤❤❤❤
I haven't talked about Urban Legends here or twitter (I haven't been very active in either place lately. Just a lot going on and no energy 😔) but I'm happy to do it here.
Before I start though, I just want to add a standard disclaimer and make it clear that if you like it, there's nothing wrong with that and you don't have to let me ruin it for you lol. Like what you like.
That said, since you asked...
I said this when I was talking about it on discord, that there is a difference between hope and expectation. I always hope that a new story centered on Jason (or anyone really, but things have been especially egregious for Jay for 15 years) will be good or at least treat the character with a minimal level of respect (to be honest, the bar is super fucking low). But my expectations always temper my hope, to keep it from getting unrealistic. Because my expectations are based on experience.
The long history of Jason Todd, since even before his resurrection, has been one of retroactively trying to make him "a bad seed" in order to absolve Bruce of any responsibility in his death.
I don't even expect DC or their writers to start honoring the fact that Jason was not an angry, reckless Robin (and less of the later than Dick or Tim and definitely Damian). There plenty of ways that retcon can be folded into his history and be compelling and sympathetic. And if they're going to stick with that retcon, I'm only asking that they do it in one of those compelling and sympathetic ways because Jason was 15 when he died, heroically, in one of the most selfless acts in comics, to save a woman who literally handed him over to be brutally murdered. He was 12 when Bruce plucked him off the streets, he'd been homeless and fending for himself for at least two years. I personally think that Jason's story hits harder for him and Bruce if their original, canon relationship, of Jason as starry-eyed and eager to learn and absolutely devoted to Bruce and Bruce to Jason, is preserved. But Jason's origins does leave room for a meaningful interpretation of him as angry and frustrated at the lack of meaningful results of Bruce's methods.
And that's really where my irritation at stories like Batman: Urban Legends, Cheer and Batman The Adventure Continues has it's roots.
Every time one of these stories comes out, I think (or hope, rather) that this will be the one that remembers and respects the origins of the Jason and the Red Hood, that takes into account the changed sensibilities of comics readers in the 30 years since Jason's death and the subtle, 20 year, retroactive campaign to make him the "bad Robin". The "born bad" trope is played out and literally no one likes the message it implies. That some kids are just bad eggs and there's nothing parents or the adults around them can do. Especially when it's played as the kid's fault. If Jason's time as Robin is going to be characterized by anger, then it should be rooted in anger at the social injustices he witnessed as he grew up in an impoverished, crime-ridden, area and the horrors he faced raising himself when every day was a battle for survival. There are topical, meaningful, stories to tell with that backdrop.
But those are never the stories we get.
⚠⚠ Spoilers for Batman: Urban Legends, Cheer ⚠⚠
I'm particularly disappointed in Urban Legends because for the first issue, it looked like that was the kind of story we were going to get. I was put off by the first flashback of Jason being mesmerized by Bruce's guns, and I got that feeling in my gut that it was a bad sign. Jason depicted as impatient and overconfident and the scene with the guns is heavy-handed foreshadowing that got my spidey-sense tingling. I had a inkling then (in the first three pages) of how this story was going to play out, but it was early and I could still see many narrative paths that could lead to a satisfying story. My concerns were soothed somewhat and the little flame of my hope fanned, with the flashback of Alfred scolding Bruce, with Barbara's concern for Jason. A bit of worry returned with the way Jason ruthlessly pursued an addict who didn't appear to be a dealer and with the ending of the issue. The stuff with the addict sat wrong with me but the ending was tempered some by how despicable Tyler's dad was written. The scene was clearly set so that the reader could sympathize with Jason's decision and the scene with the addict could be brushed aside as a side-effect of comics over-the-top need for constant action, so I still held hope.
Issue 2 made me uncomfortable and it's where my hope starts to take a backseat to my expectations. I can dismiss Jason's self-deprecating internal monologue as unreliable narration, except that the flashback reinforces his thought process to explicitly show that it's not unreliable narration, and should be taken at face value. Jason faces physical abuse at the hands of his mother's drug dealer and when the flashback continues later, Jason kills the drug dealer. To be clear, this is a pre-Bruce Jason. His mom is still alive. He's like... 10. He kills this guy for shoving his head into a wall and implying Jason's mother paid for her drugs with sex. This is a scene that serves a single purpose. To show that Jason has always been prone to violence.
In the spirit of full disclosure, there is the small chance the drug dealer might not be dead. But the story obviously wants the reader to think he is, and it hasn't done anything to change that yet.
Tumblr media
Starlin already did this story with The Diplomat’s Son in 1988 and he did it infinitely better. AND that’s still technically canon. So now I’m supposed to believe that Jason lost his cool bad enough to kill two douche bags before his sweet 16? Like it’s totally normal for abused kids raised in poverty, who’ve led hard and heartbreaking lives to just... haul off and kill people? That’s bullshit, and when taken with the Jason in the third issue, who is little more than an idiot thug, this story is really doubling down on some fucked up stereotypes.
Which brings us to the most recent issue. I went into this installment with very low expectations. I thought this story was going to be about Jason, through this experience with Tyler, a young boy with a similar background to Jason's, coming to the realization that Bruce's way is the best way and that Bruce did his best by Jason.
That would be annoying (in no small part because it takes increasingly absurd levels of plot armor to keep Bruce's no kill rule relevant, let alone irrefutably right). But I can probably live with that, if only because maybe if Jason officially falls back into line with the Bats crusade, maybe I'll get stories that treat him with respect, stories that don't relegate him to comic relief, dumb brute, or a background body with no lines in a story about the Joker burning Gotham (like Jason would just fucking stand there quietly for that).
And that may still be where the story is going, Jason realizing Bruce is right.
But holy shit do I not have the right words to describe how fucking insulting and gross issue three is.
From start to finish--including the flashback--Jason is written as cruel and fucking stupid. Like straight up dumb.
The entire issue is Bruce explaining the fucking basics to Jason like it's his first day. And Jason flies off the fucking handle and terrorizes a doctor he knows isn't a part of making the Cheerdrops, beats the shit out of some random addicts, and finally, when he can't accomplish anything on his own because he's a dumb brute he calls Barbara for help and rushes in with no information where he's promptly incapacitated and must now wait to be rescued by Batman.
This panel is the least of the issues sins but I can’t screenshot the entire story but it’s representative of the tone for the whole issue (and retroactively tainted the prior two issues).
Tumblr media
This is beyond insulting. The only conclusions Jason comes to in this issue are the ones Bruce leads him to by talking to him like he can’t make the simplest connections. And like... in this story Jason can’t make the simplest connections.
This (and the Jason throughout the entirety of this issue) is a far cry from the Jason we fell in love with in Under the Red Hood, who was competent and strategic and intelligent enough to seize control of Gotham’s underworld from Black Mask (who’s no fucking slouch, he’s the first and only person to unify organized crime in Gotham) AND elude and manipulate Bruce until the time and place of his choosing.
This is a far cry from even the Red Hood and the Outlaws Jason who is competent enough to fight the League of Shadows and Ra’s al Ghul (among very dangerous and skilled others) and smart enough to create antidotes for mind control nanotech viruses.
As he should be, by the way. Jason Todd is one of the best, most comprehensively trained fighters in DC’s stable of non powered vigilantes. He’s not irrational or hot headed. He’s pragmatic, tactically minded, and patient. He’s a detective. Right now. Has been since he was 12. Bruce doesn’t have to make him one because he already is. 
Jason is not a stupid thug who uses his fists because his brain doesn’t work. And I can’t tell you how so very exhausted I am by this narrative. 
This is actually the most egregious example of Jason’s skills and intelligence being not just undermined but dismissed entirely. Even Morrison’s Jason had some degree of competency. 
The one, single redeeming factor of this story is the art. It’s beautiful. And Marcus To is a godsend he seems to be one of only a couple of artists who remember that Jason was a child when he was Robin and I’m literally only buying this book because of him. 
Anyway, I’m sorry. I didn’t want that to come out so... um... passionately lol. I’m just very very tired. My intention with this isn’t to ruin it for you, if you like it, that’s fine. 
But this issue shot this story to the top of my "Vehemently Despise” list. 1) Batman: Urban Legends (Cheer), 2) Battle for the Cowl/Morrison’s Batman and Robin, 3) Batman The Adventure Continues.
I hope the next issues somehow salvage this dumpster fire. But I’m not expecting it.
(Damnit. That sounded harsh again. To reiterate, I’m not trying to judge anyone who enjoys it, I just personally hate it and you asked me why lol 😅)
320 notes · View notes
writing-in-april · 3 years
Text
Dressed in Crimson
Spencer Reid x Female Reader (Royalty AU)
Tumblr media
Summary: Spencer is a stable boy with a passion for learning and Reader is the princess of the palace that he serves in. They’ve been in a secret relationship, the two grow restless about not being able to be out in the open.
A/N: Guys I’m so excited for this one I really really loved writing it- it’s my fourth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April and it’s also written for @omgbigfluffwriting !!! I kinda immersed myself into this quite a bit- and it’s my longest oneshot I’ve ever written 🤭The specific historical period theyre in is not specified and the world that they’re in is entirely fictional and not based on any specific point in history- if you’ve ever watched Merlin that’s kinda the vibe I was thinking of just without the magic lol (please still ignore that the gif does not have an accurate clothing choice from Spencer I just wanted a good shot of his hair that I thought of while writing this) i feel like it’s becoming so obvious how much I love historical fiction lol 😂 I’d like to hear from you guys also so if you want to drop me an ask here! It can be about anything 🥰 hope y’all enjoy!!!
Warnings: 18+, Reader has a horrible Father, subtle hints about sexism, Classism, Period typical clothing, Reader and Spencer fight for a little bit, Smut, Dom Spencer, Fingering, Handjob, Unprotected Sex, Day dreaming about fucking in public, Spencer’s possessive as hell, Ignoring the potential consequences of a creampie
Main Masterlist Word count: 4.7k
My day started out like any other with my corset made of whalebone being cinched tightly around my figure with my chemise underneath of course. Every time the ends of the laces were pulled taught on my body I thought of the days where I could get away with not having this wretched piece of clothing cutting off my breath. Those days had been so long ago, when I was just a small child, almost so long ago that I had to strain my memory to recall it. It wasn’t even until I was done clutching my mother’s skirts before I started to be forced into the confines of the worst invention in history. I would have rather muck in the mud in pants like the men, unless there was a reason for me to actually want to wear a dress.
Today, I had chosen a crimson colored gown, one of my only favorites. The front of the bodice was adorned with embroidery, one embroidered with a glistening gold thread. The sleeves were long and ever so slightly off my shoulders, ending just at my wrist. It had been perfectly handcrafted just for me, a seamstress being hired to slave away at each detail with precision. If it had been up to my father the seamstress would have been paid little to nothing for this masterpiece, but you had your own coins stashed away from your allowance to give extra to anyone that gave you goods and services.
The dress was my favorite almost solely because of someone else’s appreciation for the lush fabric, no one needed to know about that though. I did like to look nice on certain occasions, but only special ones. There was no special occasion scheduled for me to have a reason for wearing it, well none that the greater majority of the court would know about.
Only my maid Emily knew what my excursion would be today, why I dressed up so nicely. There was no feasible way for me to hide my dalliances from her, especially the one I was about to go to as it required some higher levels of stealth to be able to evade my father’s guards.
His name was Spencer, one of my father’s stable boys. I loved him more than anything, definitely more than any potential match that was arranged for me.
I gifted him whatever I could without raising suspicion, though I often hid my purchases if someone asked by excusing them as more frivolous in nature, such as a new dress. Spencer had no real need for pretty things as he’d said before, except from myself- those were his past words not mine. And, he did express to me how much he loved the dress I was wearing right now, which was tied to how we had first met.
When I first met him I had been looking for a fabric in the market stalls. I hadn’t really wanted to, I was content with all the dresses that I owned right now, they had no ornament on them, just how I preferred. However, my father demanded I get something fancier for some sort of frivolous ball that was coming up that undoubtedly had no reason to take place besides bleeding everyone else dry.
I brushed hands with him for the first time as I was looking for the material I wanted, something just fancy enough to appease my father. The stall filled with fabrics bordered one that had stacks of books, I would have much preferred to be looking at that one. My hand had gotten close to the edge while I was inspecting a fabric and it had bumped into a man who was looking at one of the books.
When I had looked up to see who had brushed my hand I was met with frantic eyes filled with apology. His stuttered apology had covered my attempt to assure him that it was fine, it had taken me grabbing both of his hands to steady him for him to listen to my reassurance.
When he had introduced himself to me after I asked it flowed into a long conversation. I could have talked to him forever, I would be content to never talk to anyone else. For a stable boy he was exceptionally smart, which I learned was from his mother who had made sure he was educated even in poverty, specifically through having him read anything she could get her hands on. From then on our blossoming friendship had flourished, and had eventually developed into more.
I slung a shawl over my shoulders made out of a fabric of similar color to my gown and also grabbed a purse filled with coins with a smile due to my reminiscing . It wasn’t cold enough for one of my velvet cloaks just yet and most of the walk down to where Spencer was housed was indoors.
The walk from my rooms in the main part of the castle to the stables on the lower floor towards the East end was longer than I would have wanted. Truthfully, I wished I would not have to live in a castle at all, I’d rather live in the small house that Spencer lived. It was just past the castle grounds at the edge of the surrounding village adjacent to the stables so he did not have to walk far for work in the mornings.
My feet tiptoed down the corridors carefully, I was lucky that I had figured out to be somewhat light on my feet otherwise I’d be caught swiftly for sure. I passed by the rooms of most of the lords and ladies staying at court, I always wondered why some chose to stay here, it was positively suffocating here. The door I used to go outside was through the kitchen, that had a myriad of breakable things strewn about that I had to stealthily avoid. Luckily, I knocked nothing over that would have woken up the cooks who slept just a room over. Turning the handle of the door had to be a slow process so no one would hear the creak of the knob while it was turned, but I did successfully make it out with no disturbance.
Beginning the stretch of my journey that was outdoors was perhaps the most risky. Guards were stationed around the perimeter of the castle in greater numbers compared to the ones indoors which were only stationed by important rooms. I weaved my way through, in some aspects it was even more confusing than the inside of the castle. Hiding behind each of the pillars was the most effective way to avoid them, the construction of them making a series of small blind spots. I had just snuck behind one of the last ones when one of the guards nearest to me moved forward a little. I stopped breathing immediately, holding it tight in my chest while I plastered myself as close as I could to the back of the pillar. My nails dug into the stone of the pillar in fear, if I was ever to be found sneaking out at night or worse in the presence of Spencer, I would either never leave my rooms again or be whisked away into marriage even earlier than planned.
When the guard did not move to investigate further I let go of the breath I was holding, still making sure to let go of it slowly so he could not hear me. Moving swiftly forward after I had taken a breath was a bit of a challenge, my knees had gone weak with fear. I pushed myself to take each step even with the weakness in my knees, there was no way I could linger any longer.
Finally I was no longer walking on stone, I was walking on the muddy earth now. It was nice to feel the ground under my feet instead of the harsh stone, it told me that I was now only a handful of strides away from Spencer’s home.
The leaves littering the ground mixing with mud crunched under my feet even as I tip toed carefully. The guards may be in the distance now, but I didn’t feel keen on testing how good their hearing may potentially be.
Passing the stables was the last marker for my journey, then I would be able to see his home too. As I passed the sleeping horses by anticipation began to replace the fear inside me. It had been a while since I had been able to come see him, making me yearn for his touch even more.
His home came into view, even in the dead of night I could make it out if I squinted my eyes hard. My pace picked up exponentially when I landed my eyes on his humble abode. It was a quaint home, fallen into disrepair as he could not afford to fix it on the meager salary that my father paid him. The purse of gold that I had brought with me was exactly for that, the repairs. He would most likely protest the gift just like any other thing I had tried to gift him. From my experience the most effective way to get him to accept anything was to leave it there with no conversation about it. I think it made him feel less guilty even though in my opinion he was owed the money in the first place, no one should have to live in squalor when they did their job every day without question or complaint.
When I finally was at the entrance of his home I entered through the door swiftly, too impatient to wait or knock. Stress melted from my shoulders when I caught sight of him, hunched over one of the books I had given him, candles strewn around to give him enough light to read.
The candles he had lit to be able to read in the night illuminated us both with a glow. He would always compliment me whenever we found ourselves in similar lighting such as this, but in my opinion there was no rivalry. Each time the candle flickered it brightened up every highlight of him, letting me see his wild curls, brown eyes deeper than any others I had ever seen, and a body that I had no doubt was crafted to perfection illuminated in a beautiful glow.
I went to compliment him just as he always did with me, but I became mesmerized when he stood up, then moving his way closer to me.
“It is nice to see you, it feels like it’s been an eternity.” It may seem dramatic for him to say that it felt that long, but I echoed his sentiment willingly.
“It is nice to see you too, Spencer. I agree it’s been far too long.” I was sure it had been at least a full moon cycle since we had the pleasure of being alone with one another, our duties to my father keeping us separated.
It had been painful whenever I would go out for a ride on my horse, to see him hand me the reins of my mare and be unable to reach out to touch him. There had been one day, about a week ago, that I had let my hand brush against his own for a moment while he handed the reins to me. It was an innocent brush of a touch, that also had a barrier in the form of my leather gloves. To anyone else it had meant nothing, but to me and him, it meant everything.
His eyes were blown wide with desire, as I suspected mine were as well. We let ourselves take in the sight of each other for a minute longer before Spencer broke the silence with a request,
“Drop your shawl, so I may see you better.” A stable hand commanding someone of such a stature such as I would’ve seen him whipped if it was any other person before him. His boldness was not unexpected, it had taken a while for him to grow so comfortable with my company. In truth, he had been quite scared when I had first met him. It was perfectly understandable considering his employer was my father, who was not known for his kindness. And, even then after his fear had faded he still had a shy exterior for a while, it only had been lifted when we began to become extremely comfortable around each other. We were each other's only form of solace in this world, we could only escape our reality when we were together.
Instead of having malice in my voice like other nobles would I simply pulled the shawl more taught around my shoulders and teased, “Why should I?”
The expression on his face was one of the ones I loved seeing on his face the most, a sly smirk. He came closer to me, with careful steps as if he was waiting for the right moment to pounce. We were so close together when he stopped moving, but still not touching. He was playing a game with me, not touching until I obliged him. As he leaned in to speak into the shell of my ear he was careful with the way he tilted his body forward so I could only feel his breath on the small portion of my skin, “Because you like it when I look at you.”
My arms fell to my sides releasing my shawl to fall from my shoulders onto the floor at his words, as they rang true. I did want him to look at me and also, of course touch me.
“You wore your favorite dress.” He observed, still not quite touching. I didn't need to answer the statement he made with the thought in my mind ‘I wore it for you’ because I knew he had already figured that out. His observational skills were keenly honed in by his constant reading whenever he had the chance, often reading books that I had gifted to him. He even sometimes read well into the night, straining his eyes in the darkness when the candle was almost merely a wick. I had found that out the first- and sadly, only time I had the opportunity to stay overnight. Since then I had pushed him to get more rest as I knew how hard he was worked to the bone during the day, courtesy of my father.
His eyes were staring at my dress, pupils blown wide, his mind seemingly off in another world maybe thinking about all the things he wanted to do to me.
“Please, touch me.” I didn’t need to speak loud, only a soft whisper for him to hear me because of how close he already was to me. So close, yet so far.
He raised his large hands, calloused from working so hard day in and day out. My own hands were soft from the expensive creams I had been pampered with since I was just a small child. I liked his hands better, they showed the hard work he used everyday to cultivate his beautiful mind and body.
I subtly licked my lips in anticipation of his touch, wanting to feel every inch of his hand roaming my body, from the tips of his fingers to where his palm met his wrist.
His fingers then started to trace over the top of my corset, just a hair away from touching the swell of my breasts. My chest was rising and falling with each breath, each inhale pushing it slightly closer to his fingers. With each fall of my chest I felt the need to quickly let go of my breath, so I could once again inhale and be brought closer to his touch.
“Please touch me.” I repeated, breathless from forcing myself to breathe into his touch.
“I am touching you.” His fingers still did not move to touch my skin, only the crimson accented in gold. It was his turn to tease me now, I was at his mercy, ready and waiting for it.
I could beg again, though quite obviously I could not convince him with it. As he was running his fingers over the cloth for what felt like the millionth time, still not touching me, I teased him back instead of begging, “No you are touching my dress.”
A mere ghost of a touch from his fingers then floated across my skin. What should have calmed my heaving chest from my gasping breaths only served to make my breathing even heavier. The slight touch was still not enough, only making my desire for his hands to roam every inch of my body even more severe.
“Perhaps I should take your corset off, to help you breathe better.” He said, as if he read my exact thoughts.
“I like your thinking.”
I was then spun around so my back was pressed into his chest. It soothes my desire for his touch some, but we both had barriers of cloth preventing me from fully feeling him. I could feel some of the warmth that was hidden underneath his shirt, which was made up of a much billowing white linen that compared to his trousers.
If my skirts were not so large I wondered if I were to push back if my behind would come in contact with his cock and whether or not his desire would be as prominent as the slickness dampening the bottom layer I was wearing. I’d have to find a way to find a pair of trousers then, sometime soon, so I could try to grind into him at a later date. There was no doubt that we’d surely find ourselves in a similar position again.
As his hands started to undo the laces of my corset with care, despite both of our desperation, a thought slipped out from his lips that I’m sure he intended to keep to himself, “I wish I could call you mine in public.”
“My father would kill you!” The taste of my voice would have been bitter in anyone’s mouth, quickly spat out in the same way I said those words. Perhaps my quick anger to his innocent thought would be insane to some, most would probably consider it a sweet thought. However, he knew from previous conversations that when those sweet thoughts were expressed that all I could feel was a heavy sadness sitting inside me, instead of desire.
Tears clouded my vision, so much so that I did not see Spencer’s arms come around me to envelop me in an embrace. I flinched a bit at first, but then melted when I realized it was him. We held each other for a while as I sobbed softly into his billowy white shirt.
He stroked my shoulder with his large hands that I loved, but the corset he had not taken off fully yet was blocking me from feeling his touch the way I wanted.
“Take it off please.” I begged softly, I wanted to feel his skin on mine, and not just his lips or his hands. I wanted to feel every inch of him.
The laces of my corset were already half undone because of his previous attempt at getting it off of me. He finished the job, pulling the corset off of my body, tossing it down to the floor. He may have loved the dress, but he was showing me through his actions that he loved what was underneath more.
Turning me around was his next step, so he could properly kiss me. The pressure was soft at first, as if he was testing the waters to see how I would feel. Feeling his soft lips on my own just made me want to pull him in further, and I did so. My fingers tangled into his curls as the kiss devolved into pure passion, we were both throwing ourselves fully into it, trying to express our feelings nonverbally.
His own hands moved to cup my breasts as he backed me into the cot he slept on every night. I did not let him push me down on the bed so he was on top of me like normal, this time I wanted to be on top for a while. When I straddled his hips the first thing I felt was his cock straining in his pants. I unbuckled them so I could wrap my hands around his cock, I wanted to feel his thick and heavy length in my hands. Precum was already dripping down his hard cock as I pumped his length with my hands. My own arousal was dampening the underneath of the skirt I still had on. Spencer confirmed it himself when he snuck his fingers underneath the fabric to play with my pleasure spots. We both groaned as his fingers entered inside me while he rubbed circles into my swollen pearl.
My skirt was bunched up in his hands, pulling up all the way to the tops of my thighs. He soon got fed up with the skirt being in the way though and maneuvered me to shuck it off of me as fast as possible. Being bare before him did not make me wither in self consciousness, it made me lean into his touch even more.
He leaned up to kiss me again while I grabbed his length and restraddled him. I was definitely wet enough to have him enter me, my separation from him making me desperate, it had been so long since we had the chance to be together like this.
I then sunk down on his length slowly, it was for me to adjust to his size and to relish in the feeling of him sliding inside me. I stilled on top of him as the back of my thighs hit the top of his, he filled me with perfection. Spencer only let me be still for a little while before his hands gripped my hips and started to guide me to roll my hips. The pace I set- well Spencer was the one who set it, was slow and deep, I was languidly rolling my hips while he thrusted up into me at a similar pace.
My face twisted in pleasure as his thrusts became more powerful, still at the same pace but with more force behind them.
“Fuck- I want everyone to know that you’re mine!” It was the exact same thing he had spoken to me earlier that had sparked anger and melancholy inside me. This time it caused a spark of pleasure instead, making me think about him fucking me in front of everyone claiming me as his.
“My father would kill you.” This time when I said it it was gasped into his mouth with little to all anger disappeared from it.
My words made Spencer growl which was swallowed by a possessive kiss. He then flipped me over roughly, my back now pressed into the cot. A high pitched squeak had escaped my lips unintentionally in surprise, it was quickly changed into a moan when he entered me again. This time the pace did not start off slow as I did not need to adjust to him inside of me.
“I don’t care.” His speech was agitated as he pounded into me, holding my legs open with both hands spreading me out for him to see everything, “No matter what anyone says or does, you’re mine.”
Pleasure sparked through me at his possessive words, I grabbed desperately at the cotton sheets trying to hold onto something as my finish was fast approaching. When the cotton sheets were not enough of a stabilizer for me I lifted my hands up to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him close.
“Come on I know you’re close, I’m close too baby.” My nails dug into his neck and back during the latter half of his sentence causing him to slightly wince. I knew he enjoyed it though because of the question that he groaned out next, “Can I cum inside you?”
Biting my lip hard was painful as I nodded my head in response to his question that had me falling over the edge. The consequences of him finishing inside me danced in the back of my head, I chose to ignore them as he did. I did not care as he filled me and I rode out my release, even if I was to somehow get pregnant because of our recklessness it did not matter. I’d gladly have his child, even if it meant I’d have to go on the run.
Instead of falling on top of me directly after finishing like I’ve heard most men do with their wives he gently removed himself from my entrance and laid down beside me on the cot. Bliss was mingling in the air between us, both unburdened by any of our problems that would become a reality as soon as I left for the night. For now we would just hold onto the bliss until it was cruelly snatched away from reality.
Spencer had a solution as always to our problems, and seemed to be thinking about the same thing I was with his next suggestion,
“Run away with me.” We were both covered in sweat that had cropped up from our activities, a contrast to the chilly air outside and in the castle. It was nice to feel warm every time I was in his arms, It was hard to resist being greedy and deciding to stay in his arms forever. It had crossed my mind more than once, but there was always something stopping me from going through with it fully. I opened my mouth to point out all the reasons why that would not be possible when he added, “And, before you say no I want to ask- what’s stopping you?”
His reasoning was sound, as it often was. My mouth opened and closed, struggling to find a reasoning before I accepted that he was right. The only potential downfall was my father’s forces searching everywhere to find me, but it would be worth it. We could also easily cross the border into nearby lands ruled by someone else that was not in alliance with him. I already felt lighter thinking about being free from the confines of the castle- and hopefully my corset. Though I would have to keep the crimson dress I wore today, even if I only wore it around him, It was his favorite and it symbolized the day that we met. He glanced over at me just as I did the same, looking right into his eyes as I spoke,“Alright.”
The light that sparked in his eyes made my heart soar, I could feel just from his gaze how ecstatic he was to spend his life with me. I didn’t need any words to know how much he loved me.
We basked for a moment in the presence of our love, Spencer broke the silence again when he started planning,“You need to go pack!”
I moved myself to sit up even though my limbs protested, wanting to sleep after our post coital bliss. A soft smile was exchanged between the two of us, “I’ll pack light, only the stuff I need.”
The purse of gold I had brought for him would no longer be used to fund his repairs, but to fund our life together. I climbed on top of him again leaning forward to capture him in a kiss that was much more chaste than the ones earlier in the night.
“I. love. you.” He whispered in between kisses making my eyes wet with tears. They weren’t born out of sadness, but of happiness that I had someone to love me as much as Spencer did.
“I love you too, I will see you soon.” I pulled myself away from his lips even though I did not want to, I then got up to leave reluctantly. Though it was easier than previous departures as I knew that it would be the last one that I would have to complete. My whole being was lighter and happier than I had ever felt before as I snuck back with a spring in my step. The only hint of what I was about to do, where I was about to go, was the mud stained at the hemline of my crimson dress.
Ask me anything
—-
Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):
All works:
@shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith (why wont tumblr let me tag you😭
All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99
Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey
Dom Spencer: @rainsong01 @evlfknb @jakobsdump
362 notes · View notes
flowercrown-bard · 3 years
Text
Started out rocky, now they’re both cocky
(Part 3 of the rooster!Jaskier series, but it’s not necessary to read the other parts. All you need to know is that Jaskier is a rooster and he’s here to cause chaos)
word count: 3378
content warnings: innuendos, use of the word “cock”
part 1  part 2
AO3 (here Jaskier is called Dandelion, bc I think this has more game!Danelion vibes)
Jaskier had often imagined what it would be like to spend the winter at Kaer Morhen. In his mind, there had been no doubt that he would sweep into a deep bow, announcing his presence to the witchers residing there with a confident grin and eloquent words.
Alas. As fate – or, in this case a very insistent Geralt – would have it, Jaskier was unable to do either of these things. His words had been replaced by crowing, charming someone with a smile was most definitely impossible if one had a beak and an ugly lappet beneath one’s chin. And as for sweeping into a low bow – well, it would look rather silly if a rooster were to bow and he was beneath making an idiot of himself. That’s what Valdo Marx was for and he would not lower himself to that imbecile’s standards.
A less obvious, though no less important reason why Jaskier was not going to present himself the way he normally would have, was simple: To do so, he’d have to stop letting Geralt carry him. Though, now that he thought about it, he wasn’t so certain anymore, whether Geralt was carrying him because why wouldn’t he carry his dearest friend? Or if he did it so he could have a hold on Jaskier and prevent him from running away and wreaking havoc again.
Which was, of course, preposterous and also rather hypocritical of him. After all, the whole reason why Jaskier was here in the first place – and in this undignified form at that – was so he could fulfil Geralt’s wishes and use his unique talents and talons to destroy the room of one of Geralt’s brothers, a task that he was more than willing to take upon himself.
Still, it would have been much appreciated if Geralt had made sure that the other witchers welcomed him as well, or at the very least knew who he was, instead of ignoring him mostly while they greeted Geralt. Truly, it was a marvel that the witcher who welcomed Geralt at the gate didn’t pay any special attention to Jaskier. Not that he needed the attention per se, but it would have been nice and, well, there was a reason why he wasn’t used to people ignoring him. He was a delight! And no one could tell him that the sight of Geralt warming his hands by burying them in the feathers of an exceptionally beautiful and sophisticated rooster wasn’t a sight worth being paid attention to.  
Filled with righteous indignation, Jaskier fluttered his wings and pecked a little at Geralt’s fingers, when he had been ignoring Jaskier way too long – not that any amount of ignoring Jaskier would have been acceptable - in favour of talking to the fetching witcher wearing red leather. Eskel, if Jaskier wasn’t mistaken, and as everyone knew, he was never mistaken.
The action earned him a small tightening of Geralt’s arms around him that had him squawking indignantly, but at least, Eskel now looked at him. Jaskier did his best to preen and exude an air of sophistication. For a blissful moment it seemed that he had indeed thoroughly charmed the witcher. Eskel’s face lit up, he reached out and –
“Sir!”  Jaskier tried to shout, but his voice contorted his outraged outcry to a crow.
How- the audacity of – what did Eskel think gave him the permission to just pet Jaskier as if he was but an animal? Oh, how dare he…
Oh. Oh. No, actually, it was quite a nice sensation having strong hands caress his head and down his feathered back as gently as a lovesick poet would run their fingers over a flower. Quite nice indeed. He could get used to this.
To his shame – but really, who could fault a bard for seeking a little innocent pleasure in being touched by a handsome man? – Jaskier leaned into the touch. Thank all the gods that he hadn’t been turned into a cat, or else he might have had to suffer the indignity of starting to purr under the well-deserved attention.
For a brief, blissful moment, all was perfect. Until -
“He will get along well with Lil’ Bleater,” Eskel said. “You think we can put them into the stable together?”
And that was just – no! Oh no no, dear witcher. A pretty face and a soft touch would not be enough to save him from Jaskier ‘s outrage.
Expectantly, Jaskier turned his head to Geralt, his most beloved friend, the man who had rescued him countless times from the clutches of those who meant him or his reputation harm. Surely, now would be the perfect time for Geralt to come to his aid once more and defend his honour. Certainly he would –
“Hmm.”
Oh that bastard! This was no disagreeing or scolding hum. This hmm, accompanied by a sly smirk and a mischievous twinkle in Geralt’s eyes was very decidedly not the support that Jaskier was looking for.
Jaskier nipped Geralt’s fingers again, but that only served to make the witcher grin even wider. Together with Eskel, Geralt walked through the gate and towards the entrance hall, giving Jaskier a shit-eating grin when they passed the stables and making a comment about how in there, no one would hear the rooster’s morning crow.
He better just be teasing. As tasteless of a joke as this was, Jaskier might find it in himself to forgive Geralt for the threat of making him sleep in a stable with a goat.
As they walked, Geralt kept petting him absentmindedly, which was admittedly nice. Jaskier could live with being used as a glorified hand-warmer, if it came with the luxury of being carried around and getting pressed against a strong man’s chest.
Even better than that, though, was the look the old witcher, who Geralt greeted with the name Vesemir, gave Geralt, when they met him in the great hall. The way his eyes wandered from Geralt’s face down to where he was stroking his rooster marked him as a man who had lost all faith in Geralt.
A younger witcher with slicked back hair, who must be the infamous Lambert, the very reason why Jaskier was here, snickered behind Vesemir’s back.
“Looks like I’m officially the superior brother now,” he said with a grin. “The only one whose best friend isn’t a farm animal.”
“Your best friend is a cat,” Geralt deadpanned.
“A handsome cat that would claw your pretty face off if he heard you taking shit about me.”
Lambert’s grin looked infuriatingly smug. Jaskier didn’t know this cat they were speaking of, but one thing should never be questioned: He was the farm best animal friend. Even if he wasn’t really an animal or – he shuddered at the thought – living on a farm. But how dare Lambert imply that a cat could be better than a rooster? He gave Lambert his best menacing glare, which fell rather flat, considering he was a damned bird, currently snuggling against Geralt.
As was to be expected, which didn’t mean Jaskier didn’t take offence to it, Lambert ignored him. “What’s his name anyway? I sure hope it’s not Roach.”
If he had been able to snicker, Jaskier would have done so. Lambert might be a cock – oh, who was Jaskier to judge such a thing? – but it was nice to see that the bard wasn’t the only one who would relentlessly tease Geralt for his inability to come up with good names.
“Eskel has his Little Bleater,” Lambert added, his grin turning downright devious. “So, pretty boy, you have…a Little Cock?”
Little? Little?
The gall of that man! Jaskier was anything but small, thank you very much. But then again, Jaskier couldn’t shame a man for showing such a great understanding of wordplay, especially when he used his talents to tease Geralt.
Oh, who was he kidding? He liked Lambert.
Between his unexpected appreciation for the youngest witcher and the urge to make himself seem bigger than he was, Jaskier nearly missed Geralt’s answer. It was exactly the sort of reply one would expect. Except…Geralt did not correct Lambert regarding the fact that Jaskier was an animal.
Now, here’s the thing. Jaskier loved his witcher with all his heart. Geralt was his best friend in the whole wide world and he would never exchange him for anyone, as much of a smug bastard as he could sometimes be. But by the gods, why oh why, did Jaskier ‘s best friend have to be a man who didn’t have the presence of mind to just, oh, I don’t know, tell his family that the rooster he was bringing with him was a cursed human? There was no doubt that Geralt had told his brothers and father of Jaskier before, for how could he not? Jaskier was a great subject to talk about. Surely, Geralt couldn’t be worried about them not accepting him in their midst.
A quick glance at him – Jaskier preferred not to think about how strange a rooster turning his head nearly upside down and giving a stink eye must look – made it quite clear that he was, in fact, not worried at all. Instead, Geralt was up to something.
Jaskier glared at him, as if staring might let him read Geralt’s thoughts, provided Geralt knew how to use his mind to think.
Perhaps his plan was to give Jaskier the best possible way to get attention by only introducing him once he was back in his dashing human form? Oh, that would be marvellous! After all, if there was one thing Jaskier was good at – well, there were numerous things, of course, but we shall ignore that for the sake of the dramatic – it was making an impression. He had to commend his friend for being so thoughtful as to grant him such an opportunity, unless…
Oh, Jaskier knew that look on Geralt’s face. He was having far too much fun with this. A suspicious amount of fun even. It would almost make one think that all this had never been solely about Lambert’s room at all. If Jaskier hadn’t known any better, he might even be inclined to think that Geralt was taking delight in letting Jaskier stay cursed.
Well. If that was the case, Jaskier would make sure that Geralt would delight not much longer in that.
He let out an ear-piercing shriek that had Geralt flinch and unfortunately squeeze him a little uncomfortably.
“What’s wrong, Jaskier?” He asked, as if he didn’t know fully well the magnitude of what he was doing.
Before Jaskier could answer, well, whatever equivalent of answering he could do in this form at any rate, Lambert spoke up again.
“Jaskier?” He cooed. “How sweet. You miss your bard so much that you call your rooster by his name? Who would have thought the White Wolf could be so soft-hearted. Watch out or Roach will get jealous if she learns that you found a new love.”
“Lambert,” Geralt growled, though whether he was defending his own reputation as a stoic, brooding loner – ha! As if anyone could look at him and believe him to be such a thing! – or if he was outraged at the thought that anyone could take Roach’s place in his heart, Jaskier couldn’t tell. It was likely a mixture of both.
“Oh, so you don’t miss your bard?” Lambert lifted an eyebrow. “Is it perhaps just a certain bodypart of his that you miss? I guess then it would make sense why you gave his name to the cock.”
Lambert turned away from Geralt before he could come up with a reply, but before he had his back fully to Geralt, Lambert caught Jaskier’s eye and he winked.
Oh. Oh ho ho, he knew. That sly bastard. Evidently, Lambert was the only witcher who knew how to use his brain and seen through the curse and Geralt’s admittedly poor attempt at making it seem as if the extraordinary and overall splendid rooster was but a normal bird and now Lambert was fucking with Geralt.
And – now, listen. Jaskier had been looking forward to destroying Lambert’s room. There was nothing like joining forces with a friend to mess with someone who annoyed them. Well, the biggest pleasure Jaskier knew came from proving once again that he was more talented than Valdo Marx, but that was a given, so it shall not be mentioned further. The point was that Jaskier would have done as Geralt had asked of him.
But now, with this new knowledge that Lambert apparently shared the same ambition as Jaskier to become the biggest nuisance he could be, he couldn’t possibly work against him. Jaskier could recognise a kindred spirit if he saw one. Reading people and recognising his own greatness in others was one of his countless talents. The last and perhaps only time he had met such a kindred soul before, had been in his first year at Oxenfurt at the admission exam, when Valdo Marx had immediately singled out Jaskier as the one who could be the biggest threat to his career. As loathe as Jaskier was to admit it, he too had recognised a certain talent in the other bard and they had both decided to make it their lives’ mission to not let the other top them.
Jaskier had not regretted that decision a moment in his life, but even he had to admit that said rivalry was the reason why he was now a rooster and delightful as that could be, he could have done well without it.
So, he would not make the mistake of antagonizing a congenial person again. At least not know. Who was to say what the future held? The important part was, that for now, for once in his life, Jaskier was going to be the bigger person.
He waited until the moment was right, a feat greater than any he had ever faced before. As virtuous as he was, being patient was not one of Jaskier’s strong suits. Still, once night had fallen and Geralt had thankfully not made true of his promise to put him in the stables, he snuck out of Geralt’s room, searching for Lambert’s instead.
Lambert, of course, was already waiting for him, a cocky smile on his face and his arms crossed in a way that meant business.
He greeted Jaskier with the fateful words “You gonna help me mess with Geralt?” and obviously, there was only one possible answer to that.
It was thrilling having an ally in his mission to create chaos and take revenge on those that had slighted him. And, oh, how Geralt had slighted him!
The first step of their however-many-steps-they-would-get-away-with-plan was simple: Jaskier was supposed to take a nap. In Geralt’s bed. Specifically, in his hair, creating a nest out of it.
Now, Jaskier was no craftsman for any craft that didn’t involve the spoken word, but he did so love to make himself comfortable. So that was what he did. Snuggling into Geralt’s hair and masterfully rearranging the strands with his beak until they could well and truly be considered a mess.
And then, as always, Jaskier woke Geralt up in his new favourite way. One would have thought that Geralt would have gotten used to Jaskier crowing into his ear at the top of his lungs. But no. Geralt grimaced and grabbed his pillow to throw it at his tragically underappreciated companion. The feathers flying through the room were not only those from the pillow.
So naturally, Jaskier started complaining. Loudly. Loud enough to, as a completely arbitrary example, signal a different witcher whose room was down the hallway that their plan was in motion.
Before Geralt could find another pillow to throw at him, Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s breeches that the witcher had unceremoniously dropped to the floor the past night and dragged them towards the door.
Cursing, Geralt chased after him, wearing nothing but his underthings. Had Jaskier been alone, he would have gotten caught, no doubt, but the door flung open just in time for him to dash through and just before Geralt could reach him, Lambert, who had been lying in wait, scooped Jaskier up and ran down the stairs and outside, cackling like a hen, while Jaskier let out a triumphant crow that was somewhat muffled by the breeches still firmly held in his beak.
Geralt was catching up to them quickly, but Lambert and Jaskier had one rather obvious advantage: There were two of them.
Lambert dropped Jaskier unceremoniously, leaving him to flutter his wings to land somewhat elegantly – oh, who was he kidding? He plummeted to the ground like a stone - and they dashed into two different directions. For a precious moment, Geralt stood there frozen to the spot, surely contemplating which menace would be able to cause the greater chaos, if he didn’t catch him: The rooster with a godcomplex or Geralt’s little brother in possession of opposable thumbs.
Geralt, once more was forced to choose the lesser evil, but here is the thing: As it was so often the case, there was no correct choice to make.
While Lambert ran back to Geralt’s room to cause who knew what chaos, Jaskier ran towards the stables, and be it only for the dramatic irony.
Geralt must have chosen to follow Lambert and Jaskier was almost insulted, but it gave him the chance to take his time, pushing open the door to the stables and dragging the breeches inside. Just a little revenge for all the times that Geralt had made fun of Jaskier when he had been forced to run out of town without his breeches, since they had to be left in a lover’s rooms.
He dropped the breeches in Lil’ Bleater’s corner and watched with smug satisfaction as the goat immediately began munching on the breeches happily. Jaskier gave her a proud look and had they both been human, he would have kissed her hand in thanks. As it was, he was rather fond of his beak and he would not risk hurting it by kissing the goat’s hooves. Still, Lil’ Bleater lived up to her name, giving a happy little bleat that Jaskier chose to interpret as thanks for the delicious meal. How polite of her.
Who knew. Maybe they would become friends after all.
From somewhere in the keep, Jaskier could hear a bang and then a shout of disgust and had he been in possession of his luscious lips, would have made them split into the biggest, most self-satisfied grin, when Geralt’s voice continued cursing loud enough to be heard even where Jaskier was. To be fair, Geralt had probably opened the windows of his room. At least that was what Jaskier would have done in his stead to escape what Lambert had done to his room.
Well. Served Geralt right. No one could accuse Lambert of unoriginality and Jaskier was nothing if not petty.
Of course, the bomb that Lambert had set off wasn’t another moon dust bomb. Where would be the fun in that? No, Lambert and Jaskier had agreed, as much as a rooster and a witcher could agree, that they would be gracious and bring Geralt closer to what he loved the most: The sweet sweet smell of his cherished Roach. In this case, the smell of what Roach left behind, when she had eaten a lot.
There were more steps to their genius plan of creating chaos in the keep, one of which involved a fork, a strategically placed axii and the backside of whoever pissed Lambert off the most, and naturally there were endlessly more possibilities for improvisation.
Sadly, the other witchers, roused by the mayhem and possibly even the stench coming from Geralt’s room, didn’t seem to appreciate Lambert and Jaskier’s combined genius and they made sure to break the curse on Jaskier as soon as they got the change.
Now, there was only one fundamental flaw in that: For some unknown reason, the witchers hadn’t considered the fact that Jaskier’s personality hadn’t changed when he had become a rooster. They had no idea what they were in for, now that Jaskier had opposable thumbs again.
This would be a fun winter indeed.
58 notes · View notes
itsstrange · 3 years
Text
Coffee Run & Green Eyes
Series: Spark Between Us
Relationship: Jensen Ackles x Skyline McNoir (OFC)
A/N: Hey everyone! I know it’s been a long time and I apologize for those waiting for more stories, but if you follow me on IG then you would know that this last week I was struck with a stomach flu which caused me to not have enough energy for various things. Luckily, I’ve recovered and feel much better. I also want to apologize to those who have requested me some stories, don’t worry I have Not forgotten about you! Just been dealing with some things!
But!! To not keep you guys in the dark I decided to post a Series I wrote for Ao3 on here, just to give y’all something to read meanwhile I work on some other works for y’all!! Hope y’all enjoy it!
Another thing, we have hit 105 followers y’all!!!! Thank you so much for all the love y’all continue in giving me!! I appreciate it so much!! 🥲💚
✨{Credits to owner for the gif}✨
Summary: Skyline McNoir tags along with a few friends who are attending a convention of some show she’s never watched. Little did she know, she would fall head over heels for the lead actor.
Word Count: 2.4 K
Warnings: Will contain Fluff, public sex, alcohol consumption, public fingering, just pure NSFW for all you Jensen fans out there 😊
————
ENJOY!!
————
Tumblr media
The blasting chorus of Follow Me Now by Jason Gleed, wakes Skyline up. Her Hazel eyes glare straight ahead at the coconut cream wall for a few seconds before bringing the cover above her head, trying to muffled the music. Which didn’t help. At all. Then to make the morning less fun, her bed begins to shake violently by her best friend who’s jumping up down awhile singing at the top of her lungs. Skyline groans into the covers and tries to bury herself deeper into the warmth, but before she can even hide, the covers are being shoved off her form. A shiver runs throughout her body from the coldness in the room.
“C’mon Sky! Today’s the day!” Erin yells as she hovers above,
Skyline groans once again, eyes closed shut when it’s far too bright in the room “Five more minutes,”
“No come on,” Erin says, slightly pushing Sky’s body with her foot, “Tiffany and Laila are already downstairs grabbing breakfast,”
Still not moving, Erin shoves her body once again with her foot, when that didn’t do the trick an evil smirk spreads on her face. Grabbing an unused pillow, she raises it above her head before roughly slamming it against Sky’s head, causing her to jerk upright. With sleep still in her eyes, Sky is only able to squint at her best friend.
“Erin! What the fu-,” Her words were cut off when a large pillow smacks her in the face,
Erin chuckles at her, ignoring the death stare as she hops off her bed, “Chop chop.. we got a busy day today!”
With a roll of her eyes and a loud groan, Sky rolls off the comforter and towards the bathroom. After taking care of her regular morning routines, she hops in the shower. Erin’s music still blasted through the speakers, as Sky took a quick shower and she honestly hoped none of their neighbors complained about their disturbance, she knew she would have if she was trying to get a few more hours of shut eye.
That’s all she ever really wanted at the moment, sleep. After months of studying, exams, piles upon piles of work, and busting all nighters she was finally in winter break. The feeling of being able to come home for the holidays and spending those days with her family sounded amazing and relaxing. However, after the second day of being home, she gets a call from Erin. Mentioning something about having another extra ticket for a convention to meet the cast of some show she’s never watched. She kindly declined the offer, wanting to spend her days off with her family sounded like a much better idea than meeting unknown actors. However, Sky often forgets Erin is not the type to take no for an answer and demanded her to hand the phone over to her mother.
Thinking her mother would defend her and find a way to convince Erin to try and find someone else to take to the convention, Sky hands the phone over to her mother. You can only imagine who won that argument.
Once out of the shower with a towel wrapped around her body, Sky heads out the bathroom and towards her duffel bag. In the winter season of Austin, Texas, she decides on a plain long sleeve, black jeans, grey hoodie, black boots on her feet with a leather jacket on top. Once her hair is made and adds a couple splashes of makeup on her face, she grabs her phone and book from the small counter as she follows Erin out the room. After a few minutes later, they finally arrive in the breakfast buffet where Tiffany and Laila are already stuffing themselves with waffles and eggs. With a yawn, Sky makes her way over to the buffet with Erin right behind her. Once they both get their plates and sit down on the table, they dig in before getting on with their day.
****
8:45 am
“Oh my god!! I just hugged Speight!!” The sound of Laila coming around the corner interrupts Sky from her book,
The sight of Laila bouncing up and down on her feet with a wide grin makes a small chuckle escape from Skyline. As her friends beamed over this Speight guy, Sky returns her focus down on her book. Not really paying much attention at their excitement, but still having a smile on her lips as she reads the next chapter in her book. Even if she’s not having the same excitement as her friends, she is still having fun with them. Being around them in general for whatever reason always brightens her day. No matter how rough of a day she’s seems to be having, her girls always know just how to distract her and make her have fun.
“Ohh it’s almost time for Osric’s panel,” Tiffany says while looking down at her phone,
No longer able to focus on her book, Sky marks her spot before getting up from the floor.
“You guys go in, I’ve got auto’s for Kim at nine,”
It’s barely nine in the morning? Jesus. Sky thinks to herself, the day has felt extremely long she could have sworn it was already noon.
“Okay, let’s go Sky,” Laila motions her head to the side for her to follow,
“If you guys want me to continue tagging along, I’m gonna need an espresso,” Sky states, feeling yet another yawn creeping up her throat,
Her friends chuckle at her but agreed with her idea. They wouldn’t want her dragging her feet all over the convention, besides, coffee did sound like a great idea. Once writing down their preferred drinks in her notes, Sky leaves through the doors, down the steps and towards a coffee shop not too far away. It was only a couple blocks away, she should make it back in no time. Hugging her jacket closer to her body when the wind picks up, Sky quickens her movements to avoid its freezing weather but careful to not slip on the wet pavement. The last thing she needs is to fall flat on her ass, better yet get a concussion or go back home with a broken wrist.
Boy would her mom faint if she saw her daughter in a cast. Will most likely give her a lecture on why it’s important not to be on the phone during the most worst seasons. ‘If you weren’t on the phone this wouldn’t have happened Skyline’. Yep. She can definitely hear her ranting.
After a few blocks in the harsh winds, Skyline is finally reaching the small little coffee joint. Just as she reaches for the handle of the door, another, large, hand reaches at the same time. Thick fingers slightly touching her own, making her pull back with an apology.
“No it’s fine go ahead,” A deep voice says beside her, letting a shiver run down her body,
Most likely from the weather, what else would it be?
She looks up at the man. Dark beard, shades on his face, black hat on his head, with a black T-Shirt underneath a checkered navy flannel and black Levi’s jacket. Even under the dark shades she can tell he was good looking, handsome in fact.
“No you can go ahead,” Sky smiles at the man, stepping aside for him to enter,
He only shakes his head, gripping the door handle as he opens it for her, “Please I insist, my mom would throw a fit if she finds out I didn’t show my manners,”
Sky chuckles at him, “Well we wouldn’t want that now,”
The man chuckles back, smile forming on his lips. Man did that smile just make her stomach flip.
“No, we really wouldn’t,” Chuckling once more at him she accepts the offer with a thanks before entering the coffee shop,
As she walks inside, the change of temperature immediately hits her cold cheeks. Almost as if a heating furnace was suddenly shoved in her face, but she wasn’t complaining, the warmth was needed. Walking further into the coffee shop, she takes a glance over her shoulder to see if the man was behind her, but only lets a smile appear when she catches the moment of him allowing an elderly couple enter before him.
That’s sweet. She thinks to herself as she walks up to the counter. Once her drinks have been ordered and paid, she heads over to a small empty table near the window. Sitting on the chair she pulls out her book and continues where she left off as she waits for her drinks. A few minutes had passed and Sky was too engrossed in her book to notice her name being called out by the barista. Eventually though, she comes back to reality when someone places her drink in front her. Looking up from her book she meets eyes with bright emerald orbs, and noticing those breathtaking eyes belong to the same man from the door.
“I’m guessing your Skyline?,” The way her name rolls off his deep voice sends a shiver down her spine,
Definitely can’t be the air this time, absolutely not.
Eyeing the cup of coffee in front of her, she lifts a eyebrow at the man, teasing him. Even if she sees her name written on the side of the cup.
“And what makes you think that?” The way his lips slightly lift causes something to flip in her stomach,
Again.
“Well.. seeing how there’s hardly folks in here,” He looks around the shop for a few seconds before landing his eyes on hers again, “and you being the only one sitting down without a coffee.. I took a guess,”
Sky hums with a smile as she takes the cup, “Nice deduction,”
He shrugs a shoulder with a smile, “This seat taken?”
Sky shakes her head as she takes careful sips from her drink. With a small smile the man pulls out the chair with his other free hand, seeing how he has a cup of his own in one hand.
“I’m Ross by the way,” The man extends a hand once seated,
With a smile Sky accepts his hand, feeling it warm and rough as it wraps around her own.
“Nice to meet you,” Still smiling she pulls away from his firm hand,
“You around from here or just passing through?” He asks, taking careful sips from his cup,
Sky softly smiles at him as she wraps her hands around her coffee, trying to warm up her fingers.
“Born and raised,” He raises a brow at the small fact,
“No kidding?”
She nods, “Yeah but I’m just home for the holidays,”
He hums with a nod, “In the army or something?”
Sky couldn’t help the chuckle that escapes from her, definitely noticing how the corner of the mans lips slightly lift as well.
“More like college. My last year,”
“Really? What’re you studying?” He asks, taking another sip, never letting his eyes drift from her Hazel ones,
But does notice how they dart down towards his mouth before quickly looking back up to his eyes. A small smirk hides behind the cup, but doesn’t hide it when he pulls it away from his face.
“Biology,” He hums once again with a sincere smile, making her stomach flip,
It was such an odd feeling, especially when it was coming directly from a man she hardly knows. But for some reason, it felt right. Their conversations switched from topic to topic, never faltering. It just felt right, as if they were long time friends catching up with each other instead of two strangers who just met. Eventually, their conversation was cut short with the barista calling out her name once again with the rest of her drinks.
Getting up from her seat she walks over to the counter where her drinks waited. As she grabbed a cup holder and begins placing her drinks in each space, Ross, settles next to her. Getting a whiff of his cologne. Leaning on the counter he had both his and her coffee in either hand, which he hands over with a smile once all coffees were safely secured in place.
“I should get going,” She smiles up at his green orbs, and only then noticing how freckles are splashed on his face,
This man was literally dashing, no doubt about it.
“Yeah same here,” He says looking down at his watch, “Need a ride?”
She shakes her head with a smile, “I’m good thanks,”
“You sure? Heard it might rain,” He continues to lean on the counter as she places her coffee in an empty slot of the holder,
“I’m sure, it’s just a few blocks from here,”
“Well it can rain from those few blocks,” He argues as he gives her a smile, not wanting to end their little moment,
Neither did she, but she had friends waiting and the moment she tells them the reason why she took a little longer than expected, they wouldn’t leave her alone until she gives them the whole shebang.
She lets a small chuckle escape her lips as she picks up the coffees, “I’ll make a run for it,”
He softly chuckles at her comment, green eyes staring straight into her Hazel orbs that have slightly turned grey from her sweater. Definitely finding her and her eyes fascinating and beautiful.
“It was nice meeting you Ross,” She smiles at him as she walks away,
He smiles as he watches her, sending her a wave goodbye when she looks over her shoulder before walking out the door. Watching her leave didn’t feel like a loss, it felt the complete opposite actually. Why? Well for starters, he knew it wouldn’t be the last time he saw her considering she had the all too familiar Creation Entertainment wristband on her left hand. Also, he had her book inside his jacket, another reason on why he would see her again.
Both to retrieve her book and to have a reason to see her again. Don’t get him wrong, he was actually going to give it to her before she left, but the thought of holding it and having a reason to see her again sounded like great idea. He wanted to see her again, wanted to have a conversation longer than 10 minutes and just wanted to get to know her. She was different, in a good way, absolutely in a good way. The way she seemed to not know him or maybe she did but simply did not care made him feel relaxed, made him feel somewhat normal and he would give anything to feel that way again.
Even if it meant “stealing” her book to have an excuse to see her again.
PART 2
————
-Hope y’all enjoyed this first part of the series!! Stay tuned for random updates for ‘Spark Between Us’ I won’t give an announcement on when I’ll update it so keep your eyes peeled on it!!
-Turn on Post Notifications!! 🔔 For more!!
————
92 notes · View notes
solomonish · 3 years
Text
How To Keep Your Demon Entertained At A Walmart
Congratulations! You've earned yourself a few demon date days up in the human world! But what's this? You have errands to run? Well, we all know these demons can't function without you for more than five minutes....but an entity that's thousands of years old gets a little bored and restless in the hyper-market wasteland of a Walmart...
Nowdateables: coming soon!
Lucifer
if you don't want him getting passive-aggressive about how you should've done this before he got here (yeesh Lucifer some of us have jobs or responsibilities that we can't shove onto our siblings for a day to see our precious mc) then you better be ready to make conversation
definitely not the type to allow you to even think about sending him off so you can get stuff done. he's not even that bothersome, so he'll get offended if you even think about it, but also wouldn't you rather keep him around to reach the top shelves?
basically if you don’t want to keep Lucifer entertained, you have to be the one he needs to keep entertained
do that thing where you roll around on the cart like a skateboard and he’ll be trying to put a stop to it immediately
put random things in your cart that he knows you don’t need and let him take it out and put it back where it belongs
stare him in the eyes as you put that party size brownie mix in your cart then speed walk away. he will come up from an aisle in front of you and silently pluck the box out and take it back. he will come back to see seven boxes of corn dogs and momentarily considers breaking up with you
does not need a treat as a bribe, but will definitely forgive your antics if you bought something from the bakery to snack on as you go home (especially if you did it without him noticing, considering the eagle eye he’s had to have on your cart the whole time)
just don’t have the nerve to complain about the crumbs in your car after that
Mammon
I would say to ask him to scan the area looking for dropped coins on the floor but he'd probably knock down shelves trying to look beneath them so....maybe don't?
also please keep an eye on him or he WILL be shoplifting. human jail is (probably?) a step up from demon jail but like. let's aim for no jail, ok mammon?
instead, give him a pre-portioned off list and tell him it's like a scavenger hunt. he'll scamper off to explore the walmart and his duty to keeping you happy has like a 70% chance of preventing him from stealing anything too important
make sure the stuff you put on the list is kind of hard to find but not too hard. you wanna keep him occupied without risking him freaking out because he can't find this super specific spice you want
either that or only make a really vague list like. tell him you need bread and he'll stand in the bread aisle trying to remember if you like white bread or whole wheat bread until you come to retrieve him
bring money for a treat. if it's near st patrick's day go in the seasonal aisle and hope they have chocolate gold coins
he's not too hard to deal with, but figuring out what's sneaky enough to put on the list is a chore of its own so going by yourself is less work anyway
Leviathan
taking him to walmart was your final fatal mistake
seriously? he has to go in? you could have just left him in the car!!
you take him intending to have him pick out some normie snacks (since you don't have any limited edition whatever-the-fucks in your house right now) but he looks so uncomfortable you make a detour towards the games
just leave him to play on the trial device and go pick out a few things for him to choose from when you circle back to him
arguable the least stressful trip for you until you have to wade through the pool of kids surrounding him and watching him play when it's time to pay and leave
you won't have to buy him anything but you will have to wait for him to finish the level he's on before he lets you drag him away. and he'll probably complain a little bit in the car about how terrible it was to go in in the first place, which a treat would help minimize.
so i guess just pick your battles with this one?
Satan
satan is a refined individual with startling amounts of self control. he does not need pointed in the direction of the books. he can entertain himself on a grocery run.
point him in the direction of the books anyway
their selection is always small (because it’s a walmart not a bookstore) and half of it is children’s anyway so he’ll probably wander off real quick
satan doesn’t need to be entertained, no, he’s past that. he needs to be kept on a leash
you have no way of knowing where he’ll end up. sometimes he’ll be somewhere that makes sense like in the stationary but sometimes you’ll find him staring at the paint samples like it’s a masterpiece in a museum or over by the fishing hooks reading up about local fish populations and how to get a fishing license and you’re just like “???? i’ve been looking for you for twenty minutes???? don’t give me facts about salmon???”
will ask you why you need to buy tires in the same place you get your food. isn’t that suspicious? what do they specialize in?
answer him only with the word “bargains” and he’ll stop asking once he understands or gets annoyed
you don’t need to buy him a treat unless he finds a book he wants. then come on mc, you dragged him out here and you’re NOT gonna let him get this one thing??
Asmodeus
he's fine with making an errand run with you actually!
he's up on the human world for you baby, just make sure to hold his hand so he feels appreciated
asmo is far too entertained with the concept of a walmart for his own good. don't go with him if you want it to be a quick trip because he'll want to go around the whole store
thinks at first that it's kind of nifty that humans just dump all the things they need in one store but is quickly turned off from the novelty when he realizes how short the distance is between the clothes and the nearest package of raw chicken
even if the selection is small, he will want to spend time in the makeup department. probably goes on rants about how he can’t imagine this quality of product is good for your skin
will still buy nail polish though if you let him
overall? not terrible to have around, but make sure you don’t have anywhere to be in the next hour when you take him
Beelzebub
pack a gallon bag of cheerios like he's a toddler and get ready to fucking book it in and out of there
you know how you should never go grocery shopping when you’re hungry? what were you thinking bringing Beel around??
another brother who’s good for reaching tall shelves if you need it
Beel also has this talent where he can just list off the ingredients you need if you happen to forget your list
if you want, you can distract him momentarily by just throwing out random dishes and he’ll get the ingredients right every time (even though they’re human dishes!!) but you’ll end up giving him like five different cravings by the time you leave
only take him if you want to speedrun grocery shopping, because he will start eating food you haven’t paid for if you take too long
bring extra money for that too, just in case he gets caught :(
Belphegor
bringing belphie to walmart isn't a matter of keeping him entertained moreso than keeping him awake
which you will inevitably fail to do
so even if you only need like three things, get him a cart and let him fall into the basket
he’ll try to stay awake (and he’ll give very self-satisfied grins to the people who stare at him ((and especially the ones who say “wow i wanna do that”))) but he can only fight off his sin for so long
stop by the blankets so he can stuff a few soft things in (bc he’s gotta be uncomfortable cramped in the little basket) and he’ll make himself a tiny nest
the good news is you can put anything on top of him and he won’t complain. just don’t drop any gallons of milk on him or anything that’ll wake him up
go to a self check-out so the employees don’t yell at you
after you put your groceries in your car, just dump his ass on the pavement. he’ll forgive you if you bought him the blankets.
331 notes · View notes
nbrook29 · 3 years
Text
Kiss or Slap
Sander doesn’t remember when exactly their group made the riverside near the Scheldt their new hangout spot, but he couldn’t be more grateful for it as a cold breeze washes over his overheated body, providing a momentary relief against the scorching heat falling from the sky. It’s probably why the park is fuller than it usually is on Thursday afternoons, packed with people spread on their picnic blankets, searching for a bit of shadow under the big trees and desperately craving a bit of wind. 
It’s so hot he doesn’t even feel like sketching, preferring to just lie on the grass without moving a single muscle, and dying in peace. Even the enticing smell of cinnamon rolls that Noor brought with her isn’t enough for him to reach out and take one from the basket, the action requiring too much movement on his part.
“Guys, come on, we have to start or we’ll never get it done! Sander, get your lazy ass up.” He grunts when he feels Leon’s merciless fingers jabbing him in the ribs.
“Can’t we wait until it gets a little less hot?”
“No, cause that’s not happening in the nearest future and we need new content,” Nathan butts in, followed by Noor, which makes Sander officially outvoted. So he heaves a deep sigh, puts his shirt back on and ruffles his hair to make himself more presentable, rolling his eyes at Noor’s appreciative whistling.
“Someone’s gonna snatch himself a bunch of kisses today with that smoldering look,” she teases, pretending to give him a once over.
“Is that your way of telling me you want one for yourself, sweetheart?” He’s immensely proud of himself when her entire face scrunches up in disgust.
“Eww, no, feels like incest at this point.” Which is kinda true given the fact they’ve known each other since kindergarten and became best friends making sand castles. He fires an obnoxious wink at her, fully anticipating a shove which comes as expected within seconds, with Noor calling him a creep in between laughter.
“Who should we start with? Senne? Wanna go first?” Sander watches as Leon takes out his camera equipment and checks the settings as the rest collects their things.
“I guess, yeah. And then Nathan after me?”
“I’m not doing it, man, you know Britt, she’s gonna flip out.”
“Be a good reason to break up with her,” Sander mutters under his breath, not really feeling apologetic when Nathan shoots him a glare. It would be a long time coming, and honestly, Sander can’t wait for that moment to come. Just being in her presence gives him chills, she’s that much of a horrible person. A few years ago, he read something about alternate universes and sometimes when he looks at her he can’t help but think there’s a history there with the two of them, in a past life or something. At least it would explain that weird energy between them.
If it’s true, he feels very sorry for that Sander. 
He roots for him to run far away from said devil’s spawn.
“I can go next, I don’t have the ball and chain,” Noor says innocently, but she’s smirking over Nathan’s shoulder at Sander who pretends to high five her in their shared hatred for Britt.
“Yeah, us lonely birds will sacrifice ourselves and take the hit for the wellbeing of our channel,” Sander laments playfully, making Senne snort.
“Dude, you’re on your own by your own choice.”
“And pickiness. Don’t forget pickiness,” Noor adds smugly.
Sander huffs in protest. “I’m not picky! I just...” He cuts off because he’s not about to just explain it all now.
“Just what?”
“Specific about what I want.”
Brown curls, brown eyes, shortish, lean, pierced ear, cute giggle, elegant hands and a smile brighter than the sun. 
To be exact.
“Yeah. That’s picky.”
“Whatever,” he replies grumpily, and decides to ignore Noor’s knowing look. Sometimes he feels like she has a sixth sense and can read him like a book. Or she’s just less oblivious than the boys in their friend group. That’s a totally possible option too.
Thankfully, she doesn’t push him further (she’s awesome like that), though Sander has a feeling she’s gonna grill him later when they’re alone. For now, she checks her lipstick in her phone as they all briefly plan the video.
Not like there’s that much to plan; a few days ago, they decided to shoot a kiss or slap challenge for their YouTube channel because it had been wildly requested by their viewers.
Sander still doesn’t quite know how he became a part of a YouTube channel in the first place, always considering himself to be a bit more, well, sophisticated than that? But Leon was into it from the beginning and made them all participate in exchange for free beer, until one day one of their videos blew up.
If you can call getting 100k views on one video blowing up. 
Anyway, they got semi-popular amongst Flemish teens and even managed to snatch a sponsorship with Mentos (however small the offer was) that paid actual money. And he had just managed to move out of his family house so any money coming his way he welcomed with no questions asked. 
So they’ve kept shooting silly challenges slash anything else that’s a trend at a given time and have been able to cover their art supply needs with what little they earned. And, though Sander refused to admit it in the beginning, it’s actually kinda fun. It’s definitely better than his part time job at Pull&Bear where he has to deal with obnoxious customers on an almost daily basis.
They record a short introduction near the river, quickly going over the rules and explaining that the three of them will be competing in who gets more kisses versus slaps. 
“Hey, you know what, this is actually unfair cause you both can kiss anybody,” Senne points out all of a sudden, receiving four pairs of unimpressed glances.
“No one’s stopping you from getting kisses from boys too, dude,” Sander is quick to shut him up, shit-eating grin on his face as he gives him his first (light) slap to the cheek. 
They follow Senne around the park with a camera as he turns on his charm and smiles sweetly at the girls he chooses for the challenge, doing surprisingly well on the first few attempts. But when they venture deeper into the park and he tries his luck with college girls, he gets 5 slaps in the row to the rest of the group’s utter delight. In the end, his results are a blow to his pride and even Sander feels sorry for him, giving him a pat on the back while trying to hold his laughter in at Senne’s grumpy face.
Noor does much better, naturally, as her upbeat personality and a wide smile have always made boys and girls turn their heads. She gets a kiss after kiss, blush after blush, and two phone numbers in the process. Senne argues again that it’s unfair because no one’s gonna slap a girl anyway, but Leon just calls him a sore loser while Noor shamelessly flirts in French with another girl right in front of the camera.
Sander’s very proud.
Taking a quick sip of water, he gives Leon a thumbs up and starts his round, coming over to three blond girls chilling near the skateboarding ramps, trying very hard not to come off as creepy and clarifying the kiss part being only a cheek kiss. The girls erupt in giggles, but they all grant him a light kiss. One of them tries to flirt with him after, but he shoots her down before she can get too into it.
“Such a heartbreaker, you,” Noor coos at Sander’s pained face when they all walk away.
“That’s you, and you actually enjoy it,” he quips back, sticking his tongue at her.
“I do not, shut up!”
Fifteen minutes and fourteen kisses later he’s officially in the lead, sealing his victory with a kiss number fifteen he receives from a cute redhead. He’s gloating in Senne’s bemused face about nobody choosing to slap him when he stops in his tracks.
It’s the proof of his hopeless infatuation that he’d recognize that laugh everywhere.
He looks around for its source, but he comes up short. Then, his eyes focus on the skatepark area and his heart starts beating faster.
Because it feels like a sign. Like the universe is giving him a chance to finally do something. Make a move.
“Hey, can we shoot one more try?” He asks the guys, trying to sound casual while glancing furtively in the direction of brown curls.
“You’ve already won, but I guess?”
Nobody questions him about his reasons, they just follow him to the ramp.
And he’s so fucking nervous. 
It’s incredible, really, how he generally has no problems talking to people he’s interested in, conversation flowing without him even trying, gaining easy smiles and appreciative looks wherever he goes, some natural confidence to him. 
But that boy. That boy is something else.
He makes him question everything he says, makes his palms sweat and makes his deep hidden shyness come onto the surface.
Sander saw him for the first time during Open Day at the Academie in may, strolling casually through the hallway with his friend, completely oblivious to the turmoil he was causing to Sander’s heart.
That was the day Sander saw an angel. 
Fate placed him on his path again sooner than he could’ve hoped, the boy participating in a 2 week film course at his school only several days after he saw him for the first time. And he tried so hard to convince himself to talk to him over that time, but he only managed a few smiles while passing him by in the hallway. 
That and that one stupid joke he said to him while they were waiting in line at the cafeteria that makes him cringe in despair just thinking about it. Seriously, it’s like his entire cool evaporates when he’s near him.
But, the boy laughed at it. So maybe it wasn’t as horrible as Sander is making it to be. Or he was just being nice. 
Robbe. 
Robbe, who he’s been crushing on ever since that fateful day in may.
Robbe, who was at the same party he was last weekend.
Robbe, who he talked to at that party and managed to calm his nerves enough to be charming and funny.
Robbe, who giggled, blushed and bit his lip at Sander’s dumb jokes that evening.
Robbe, who slipped through his fingers because Sander blacked out soon after.
He almost never drinks, but that one night he did, celebrating the beginning of summer break, and not realizing his usual abstinence meant he was now officially a lightweight. What an awful timing.
Robbe doesn’t notice him right away, having his back turned to him while talking animatedly to his friends. Taking a deep breath and plastering a smile to his face to hide his nervousness, he approaches them.
“Hey guys, got a second?”
He notices the recognition in Robbe’s face right away, and Sander shoots him a quiet “hi” when his eyes meet his, an unsure smile blooming on his face.
“Hey, what’s up?” One of the boys nods at the camera.
“I’m Sander, and we’re shooting a video for our YouTube channel, the kiss or slap challenge,” he quickly explains, the boys’ faces lighting up.
“Hey, we have a channel too! I’m Moyo, this is Jens, Aaron, and Robbe.” Moyo reaches out to bump his fist with him and damn, Sander has to find that channel if Robbe is a part of it.
Jens levels him with a look. “So, you want us to kiss you or slap you?” 
“Pretty much, yeah?” Sander chuckles because he’s aware it’s ridiculous, but he’s a man on a mission here, give him a break.
“I think Robbe should represent all of us, don’t you think so?” Moyo proposes, tongue in his cheek as he checks with the rest of his friends. Sander catches the death glare Robbe sends the boy before looking back at him and crossing his arms, looking a bit out of place. And, fuck, the last thing Sander wants is to make him uncomfortable.
So he asks softly, “you’re in?” and waits for agonizing five seconds as Robbe watches him, eyes narrowed, before his features smooth out and he smiles at him.
“Sure, why not.”
Relieved, Sander lets out a chuckle and tries to keep his cool. “Okay then - kiss or slap?”
Robbe squints against the sun and makes him wait another few seconds before he answers, but Sander’s not worried because there’s a soft smile on his face and obviously his angel wouldn’t-
“Slap.”
Wait, what.
He can hear his friends bursting in laughter at this unexpected turn of events while Sander can only stare in shock because how could he miscalculate the situation this much?
Gulping, confused and heartbroken, he asks, “you’re sure?”, to which Robbe nods with a poorly hidden glee.
“But you have to close your eyes cause I can’t hit you while you're looking at me.”
Heaving a deep sigh and trying to save a face despite the humiliation flooding his body, he nods and closes his eyes, steeling himself for it.
But it never comes.
Suddenly, he feels a hand cupping his cheek and he flinches a little, but then soft lips touch his in a kiss so gentle he blinks his eyes open, not knowing what’s happening.
“That was payback for you promising to call me and not keeping your word,” Robbe whispers against his lips before leaning away, something sad and wistful passing through his face. Sander is left completely dumbfounded, ignoring the hollering from the two groups as his eyes fleet all over Robbe’s face.
It’s difficult for him to collect his thoughts because holy fuck, Robbe has just kissed him and he’s internally freaking out. He finally manages to get his bearings when the remnants of a smile slip off Robbe’s lips.
“I-, Robbe, you have no idea how much I wanted to call you, but I don’t have your number.”
“I gave it to you. At the party?” He doesn’t look like he believes a word Sander is saying.
“Um, I kinda blacked out and don’t remember much after like one-ish?”
“You saved it though, I saw you typing it in,” Robbe argues again, but this time he doesn’t look so sure. “Wait, what’s your number?”
Sander watches him entering digit after digit before hitting call. He fully expects a plain number to appear on his screen, eyes widening when he sees what pops up instead.
zk bambieys 🥺🦌👁️💘🧡💖💞 calling
“Fuck, you did give me your number.” He’s not fast enough to hide his screen from Robbe, but he can't even feel embarrassment once he notices the frown disappeared from his face.
“Bambi eyes?” There's a teasing note in his voice, but his pink cheeks sell him out.
Sander scratches his head. "I was very drunk, you can't hold it against me. Also, your eyes are really beautiful," he clarifies, winking when Robbe laughs at his shameless flirting. "Hey, I tried to find you on instagram, but nothing came up. I was really hoping we're gonna bump into each other again. Sorry for being a dumbass and not realizing I had your number this entire time?”
“It’s okay.” Robbe shoves his hand into the pockets of his jeans, swaying on his heels. Sander decides to put them both out of their misery and take the initiative.
“So if I asked you out, would you say yes?”
It looks like Robbe’s about to nod, but then he bites his lip, an almost cheeky smile directed at him. “I guess you have to call me to find out.” And then he gets on his skateboard and casually skates away to the nearest ramp, pulling a surprised laugh out of Sander.
If he was intrigued before, now he’s totally smitten with this wonder of a boy, because damn. 
Their friends finally seem to regain their voices and speak over each other at what just happened, but Sander doesn’t pay them any attention, just takes out his phone again and pressing the call button. 
Watching as Robbe comes to a full stop at the top of the ramp, he cocks his head with a grin and waits until he picks up.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Sander.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Robbe laughs into the speaker.
“Will you go out with me?”
He meets his eyes across the skatepark as Robbe makes him wait again.
Then, with a smile so radiant it overshadows the sun, the boy finally gives him his answer.
“Yes.”
94 notes · View notes
ladyloveandjustice · 3 years
Text
Spring 2021 anime overview: Quick Takes
Now for my Spring 2021 anime thoughts! I’ve decided from now on if a season’s like, 20- to-24 episodes I’m just going to wait ‘til it’s done to review it unless I feels super passionately, so though I watched To Your Eternity (it’s good!) and MHA (eh), I’ll comment on them next time. Also, for the record, I watched the first eight eps of Joran: Princess and Snow of Blood but I dropped it because it had clearly crossed the line from entertainingly dumb to boring dumb. 
I will probably give Supercub and some other stuff a shot later, this was a stacked season! May give updates on all that later, but this is what I have for now.
Tumblr media
ODDTAXI
Quick Summary: A mild mannered middle-aged walrus taxi driver is drawn into a case involving a missing girl, yakuza, Youtube clout-chasers, manzai comedians and idols with big secrets.
It’s rare to walk away from media and be like “that is a singular experience I will definitely never see repeated again” but ODDTAXI is definitely one of those. A tense noir thriller murder mystery starring cartoon animals that spends an entire episode detailing the one (cat)man’s very fall into darkness triggered by addiction to gacha games and an online auction for a novelty eraser? Also there’s a porcupine Yakuza who speaks entirely in rap? Also there’s tons of meandering conversations about stuff like manzai comedy and the struggle to go viral on Twitter?
Admittedly, I had a hard time getting into the first episode, the dry meandering humor not being enough to hold my attention while I was sitting still, but once I watched this while I was working out at the end of the season, I found it an easy binge. A ton of characters with dark secrets or dangerous ambitions, each with their own part to play in a tableau of intersecting events- and it all actually comes together really well.(As for the female characters, it’s a pretty dude driven story, but they do get nuanced characterization and even some good heroic moments from one of them.)
 It’s a great example of a carefully planned narrative paying off, with all the twists appropriately seeded and foreshadowed to reward viewers who paid attention. Even when it ended on a perfect “OH SHIT” moment and denied me closure, I couldn’t help but respect it. If you that all sounds interesting to you, definitely check out the first couple episodes and see if you like it- you’re likely to have a memorable, satisfying experience!
Tumblr media
Shadows House
Quick Summary: Emilyko is a ‘living doll’ who’s told she was created to act as the ‘face’ of her shadow master, Kate. The shadows and their ‘dolls’ all reside on the mansion and are required to pass a ‘debut’ to prove they’re a good pairing. If they don’t pass, they might be disposed of. And so the mystery of the Shadow mansion grows...
This slice of gothic intrigue was my favorite of the season, tied with ODDTAXI. With an interesting premise, slightly tense undertones and a strong focus on character building and relationships, it kept me hooked the whole way through. And for any squeamish fans put off by the hype about it, don’t worry, while there are some suspenseful elements, I wouldn’t qualify it as horror. I thought the relationship between Kate and Emilyko might end up being a completely sinister one, but it’s thankfully a lot more complex than that and it’s really interesting to follow how both their characters and relationship grow. The focus of the show is, unsurprisingly, on the “dolls” slowly discovering their autonomy and personhood as they struggle under the rigid system imposed on them by the mysterious elders of this weird Victorian mansion. Can they develop a more equitable relationship with their shadow “masters” (who are also shown to suffer under this system)? There’s a lot to dig into there, and the show has the characters develop through learning to understand and appreciate each other, which is pretty heartwarming. Our hero, Emilyko, is the typical plucky ball of sunshine (they even nickname her sunshine), but she’s also shown to be clever in her own off-the-wall way and she bounces off the far more subdued and cynical Kate well, not to mention the other ‘dolls’ she ends up befriending. 
What’s more, the show spends plenty of time to developing several other character pairings and combinations, and they all have their own interesting dynamic that makes you want to see more of them. Same-gender bonds are at the forefront of this show, and many of them are ripe for queer readings (I definitely appreciated the healthy helping of ladies carrying ladies), but even outside that it’s nice to see a show where a strong, complex bond between girls is at the forefront. My only real complaints about the show are the anime original ending is noticeably a bit rushed (though it’s not too bad, and leaves room for a season 2) and I wish the animation used the whole “shadow” theme more strikingly (like the opening and endings do)- instead the colors are a bit washed out which makes the shadows blend into the background sometimes. The “debut” arc also drags a bit in places, but it makes up for it by having a lot of good character integration.
I hope to check out the (full color)! manga soon and see more of this quirky, shadowy story. There’s some physical abuse depicted, sad things happening to characters and naturally the whole “oppressive familial system” thing, but otherwise not much I can think of to warn about. I give this one a big rec, especially If you’re a fan of gothic fairytales and stories of self discovery.  
Tumblr media
Zombie Land Saga Revenge
Quickest summary: In this sequel season, everyone’s favorite zombie idol group must claw their way back into prominence after a disastrous show- the fate of the Saga prefecture LITERALLY depends on it!
This was a fun follow-up to the first season- if you liked the first zombie-girl romp, you’ll probably enjoy this one. In fact, there were a couple areas it improved on- namely, Kotaro failed, ate crow and embarrassed himself a lot more this season, which made him more likeable (as did the fact the girls gained a lot of independence from him). This season also shed more light on what the ‘goal’ of this zombie raising project is and what kind of shit Kotaro got involved with to make this happen, and it’s appropriately off-the-wall and ridiculous. We finally got some backstory for Yugiri too! I wish it had focused on more of her interiority, but she got to be a badass in it, and it was a treat to see this zombie idol show turn into a period piece for a couple episodes (also her song ruled).
 Tae also got a cute focus episode and there was a particular SMASHING performance early on! Also That revelation last season that had the potential to turn creepy hasn’t yet, and hopefully never will. The finale was heartwarming with big hints of more drama to come- I’m definitely down for more zombie hijinks!
Tumblr media
Vivy: Flourite Eye’s Song
Quickest Summary: A songstress AI named DIVA (nicknamed Vivy) is approached by another AI named Matsumoto, who says he’s from the future and they must work together to prevent AI exterminating all of humankind 100 years from now.
This show is absolutely gorgeous visually with some really nice action scenes, but when it comes to the story my feelings basically amount to a shrug. It’s fine! I guess! Vivy starts out as an interesting layered character- and I guess still is by the end- with her stoic but stubborn determination bouncing off her fast-talking bossy partner Matsumoto well. She never listens to him, which is delightful. The way the show took place over the course of 100 years was an interesting conceit as well. However, it bought up a lot of themes and then sort of... dropped them. For instance, Vivy interprets her mission (PRIME DIRECTIVE if you will) as protecting humans at all costs, no matter how destructive said humans are or what their fate is supposed to be, and is perfectly willing to murder her fellow androids to do this, showing she inherently thinks of androids (herself and her own people!) as less worthy. Which is a little alarming! There’s a very dramatic point in the show where they bring this up as a potential conflict for her character but then it’s sort of...dropped. Pretty much.
Actually, despite the premise, the show doesn’t dip into the “AI rights” as much as you think it would with the main theme being more about Vivy’s search to find her own creativity and discover what it means to ‘pour your heart into something’. Vivy herself doesn’t actually care if she has rights or anything. Which is in some ways fine, because ‘AI as an oppressed class’ has been done to death, but IT’S ALSO KIND OF IN THE PREMISE, so that means that the show just shrugs really hard at a lot of the questions it brings up  basically just going “humans and AI should work together probably” and that’s it. There’s a lot that feels underexplored. The antagonists in the show also either have motivations that don’t really make sense or have boring hackneyed motivations. In the finale in particular, it feels like a lot of things happen “just because” and it falls a little flat.
I also have to warn that one of the arcs focus on a robot ‘pairing’ where the dude-coded robots actions toward his partner are straight up awful and rob her of her autonomy, but it’s played like a tragic love story. I suppose you could read it differently too, but it definitely made me go ‘ew’ the story seemed to want me to sympathize with this robo dude,
Overall, I wouldn’t anti-recommend this show, it’s an all right little sci-fic romp (and definitely SUPER pretty). My favorite element was definitely the episodes where Vivy develops an entirely new (an loveable) personality, because it played with the idea of of an AI getting “rebooted” really well and interplay between her two “selves” was done really well. But there are a lot of other parts of the show that just feel...a little underexplored and empty, making me have an ‘eh’ feeling on the show overall. It’s definitely an ambitious project, and while it didn’t quite stick the landing, there’s something to be said for a show that shoots for the stars and falls short over a show that just languishes in mediocrity.
Tumblr media
Fruits Basket The Final
Quick summary: The final season of that dramatic drama about that weird family with a zodiac curse and the girl who loves them.
It’s very weird that after not cutting a lot out, they kinda sped through some material for, you know, the finale. I guess they thought they couldn’t stretch this final arc to 26 episodes? Or weren’t cleared for another double cour? However, though there were a couple places that felt awkward, despite being a bit condensed it mostly held together pretty well for a D R A M A T I C and ultimately heartwarming conclusion. I was really disappointed they kept the part where Ritsu cut their hair for the ‘happy ending’, I thought  their intro episode not showing them in men’s clothes meant the anime had decided their presentation didn’t need to be “fixed” but WELL I GUESS NOT. That was the only big upset for me though, otherwise the adaptation went about how I expected, sticking to the source material. Furuba has a lot of bumps, from weird age gap stuff to ...gender, but it also has a lot of important feels and great character arcs. It was a gateway shoujo for many and has its important place in animanga history, so I’m glad it finally got a shiny, full adaptation.
68 notes · View notes
tenthgrove · 3 years
Text
This one was sent to me by @pseudo-possum via messaging so I’ll paraphrase here. The concept is that Risotto visits his grandmother (My OC, Vittoria Nero) and she attempts to set him up with with her new maid. Both Risotto and the maid know what’s going on, but they’re fine with it and open to the idea of a relationship.
A Welcome Arrangement
Risotto x Reader (GN), Romantic, SFW
When you made the decision to seek work in the cleaning industry, your hopes were low. You were fully willing to tolerate some rude, entitled rich prick as your employer so long as they paid you decently for it.
Instead, you got Vittoria Nero.
Vittoria’s house is small, by the standards of those that usually warrant a personal cleaner. Furthermore, although elderly, Vittoria is in excellent health and would certainly be capable of cleaning the place herself if she wanted to. Instead, you suspect she just wanted a maid for the company.
Vittoria is a most generous employer. Even though you rarely have enough tasks to busy yourself for more than a couple hours each morning, she pays you for a full day of work each day. She lets you have the spare bedroom free of rent, and spoils you so frequently with her cooking you barely have to worry about that expense either. You feel less like a housemaid and more like a much-treasured niece.
Vittoria calls to you and you snap out of your thoughts, turning off the vacuum hoover to listen to her.
“Did you do the other room, dear?” she asks you.
“If you mean Risotto’s old room, then yes, I just got done with it. Lots of dust. Definitely needed doing,” you affirm.
“Certainly,” Vittoria nods. “That said I hope you didn’t move too much around. My grandson has always been very protective of his things and he wouldn’t like to be reminded of someone touching them,” she adds.
“No worries, I remembered. Everything is exactly where I found it,” you assure her. Vittoria smiles.
“Good, good. I knew you would. Come, sit with me,” she beckons you. The pair of you sit down on the comfortable sofa in the main room. She drums her lap restlessly. “I have news. Risotto’s stay has been extended to a month. It turns out the first assignment he had scheduled for after this holiday of his is in Palermo anyway, so it's more practical for him to carry on staying with us while he takes care of it,” Vittoria announces.
“Oh, good. I’m sure you’ll appreciate the extra time with him,” you remark. You can’t say for yourself if time with Risotto is time well spent- you’ve never met the man, but Vittoria speaks of her grandson with a deep fondness you can only see as earned. Nobody ever gains Vittoria Nero’s respect without earning it.
“Certainly. And I think he’ll enjoy being home. I can only guess how much Naples has been wearing him down,” Vittoria looks down across the room. Sadness fills her eyes for a moment, but she shakes it off. “Regardless, my advice remains from before. Remember that certain features of Risotto’s life, especially his business, may be off limits, but you should by no means shy away from him. You will both find this month much more enjoyable if you can appreciate each other’s presences.”
“Of course, Vittoria, I’ll keep it in mind.”
::::::::::::
The next day you drive over to the next town to do some shopping. As you pull back into the driveway of the Nero house you find an unfamiliar car in the usual spot. Vittoria doesn’t get visitors, ever. Clearly, it would seem, Risotto has arrived a few hours early.
You open the front door with trepidation. Will Risotto find it strange that you, a simple cleaner, treat the house so much like your own? Should you knock instead? No, you’d rather not bring any unneeded attention to yourself. You swallow your anxieties and step into the front room.
“Oh, (y/n), there you are,” Vittoria greets you. Your eyes fall straight to the tall, black-clad man standing beside her. Christ, you expected Risotto to be intimidating, but not like this. At first glance he’s the complete opposite of his grandmother in every way- morose, sombre and imposing. But the resemblance is unmistakable. “Cat got your tongue, dear?” Vittoria prompts you. You snap out of your stupor.
“Excuse me. Risotto, I presume?”
“Yes, you must be the maid Nonna mentioned. It’s good to meet you,” Risotto greets. Wow, that’s a compelling voice. So deep and sultry… you think you could get used to listening to it over the next month.
::::::::::::
Vittoria excuses you from your duties the next day. Unwilling to face the sweltering Sicilian sun with her in your garden, you retreat to your room and read. You don’t know what Risotto is doing.
There’s a crash and you start. It sounded like… falling glass, and it came from just across the hall from you. Quickly hurrying from your room you follow the sound into Risotto’s. He isn’t there (thankfully for your embarrassment) but the shattered remains of a drinking glass lie in pieces on the floor by the window. A breeze shakes the curtains. Did it somehow blow it off the edge?
Regardless of what caused it, you should probably clean it up before Risotto finds out. God forbid he steps in it on accident. You turn around and immediately headbutt a broad human chest. Well, speak of the devil.
“Are you alright? There was crashing and Nonna said to investigate,” Risotto explains.
“I’m fine, I think the breeze blew it off,” you say, gesturing to the broken glass.
“Strange, I don’t remember putting that there,” Risotto remarks. “Nonna must have left it. I’ll help you clean.”
“Wait, you don’t have to do that for me Risotto,” you call, but he’s already half way down the hall. He returns with a dustpan and broom, handing the latter to you before he helps you to clear the mess. As you clean, you notice Vittoria sitting in her deckchair, watching you with her drink and smiling. Did she just… what on earth is her game?
::::::::::::
“Vittoria, it really won’t be necessary. If Risotto doesn’t want to go I’ll be fine by myself,” you insist. Vittoria shakes her head.
“Nonsense. Driving that far out alone is dangerous. Risotto should go to protect you,” she maintains. Behind you, Risotto sighs.
“I thought you sent them shopping alone all the time, Nonna,” he reminds her. “Didn’t they go on the day I arrived, anyway?”
“Well, now I need them to go again, and I need them to go further. So you’re accompanying them.”
Risotto groans and turns to you.
“We aren’t winning this. Come on, let’s get in the car,” he surrenders.
You’re half an hour into the drive when Risotto suddenly curses.
“I’ve figured it out,” he says.
“What?”
“What she’s doing. All the little accidents, the conveniently needing us to spend time together. She’s trying to set us up.”
Looking up at his eyes, you expect to see anger, but then Risotto laughs.
“That woman,” he exclaims, chuckling again.
“Oh christ, you’re right,” you realise, recalling all the times Vittoria assured you of how well the two of you would get on together. “Why?”
“Nonna has always wanted me to settle down. She thinks domesticity would suit me.”
“Well fuck. She just had to make this awkward, didn’t she?” you comment, sniggering a little between your teeth. Risotto looks at you for a breath moment of apprehension before his normal calm veneer returns.
“She’s always been very prudent in her decisions, that’s all I’m saying,” he remarks.
Is… is this flirting?
“You don’t say.”
Risotto lifts his hand from the gearbox and overlaps it on yours. He caresses your hand gently. You smile at each other. Perhaps Vittoria will have to find another cleaner soon.
84 notes · View notes
writersrealmbts · 3 years
Text
If You Have Half a Brain
Description: Part of the summer #btswritingbingo, hosted by @bangtanwritingbingo! For the Pina Coladas prompt. You’ve been a bit down on your luck, until one of your customers, who is definitely drunk, strikes up a conversation with you and offers you a job. 
Warnings: Mentions of death, drunken antics (mild), mild language, mentions of blood/injuries (very briefly)
Posted: 06/04/2021
Tags: Hoseok x reader, business au, 
Slice of Life/Angst/moments of fluff: 11,698 words
A/N: I think it’s been over a month since I posted a story, so here’s over 10k words. Enjoy! Thanks to @kerikaaria​ for beta reading this
Tumblr media
“Sir, you ordered a virgin.”
“Whoa, no! I didn’t even know that this was that kind of place, I mean, kudos on the confidence and I mean that in the best way because you shouldn’t be ashamed—“
“Your drink,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes. “It’s non-alcoholic. You ordered a virgin drink.”
“What? No I didn’t, I ordered a pina colada!”
“No, our menu doesn’t offer pina coladas. What you ordered was our Niño colada, which is from our non-alcoholic menu. I apologize for any inconvenience, but if this is you with a little bit of alcohol, then I think you should stick to sobriety.”
He stared at you, slack-jawed and blinking. “Why don’t you have pina coladas?”
You sighed. “We don’t stock rum.”
He made a choked sound. “The…rum…is gone?”
“Yes. The rum is gone.” You had a sinking feeling that you knew exactly what he was going to say.
“Why is the rum always gone?!” He exclaimed, flopping onto the table.
“From your behavior, I’m going to assume you’ve consumed every last drop of it, Captain Sparrow,” You replied dryly. Well, your boss was right. You were not cut out for this job. “Now, if you’re not going to order something else, I’m going to go turn in my apron and start job hunting again.”
“Wait! Wait! Do you like piña coladas?” He asked, catching the pocket of your apron.
“I swear to God, if the next words out of your mouth are anything along the lines of ‘and getting caught in the rain’ I will murder you without regret.”
His teeth clicked shut. His eyes darted over your face. “But do you?”
You took a deep breath. “I can’t stand coconut.”
“You…don’t like…coconut?” He looked horrified. “Then…coconut chicken?”
“Ew.”
“Coconut ice cream?”
“Waste of sugar and time, a lot like this conversation. I don’t like coconut. I hate it when people cook in coconut oil because saying it’s tasteless is Bull.” You crossed your arms. “New drink or what?”
He stared at you for a while, then smiled softly. “You’re too good for this job, anyway. You should work for me.”
“Excuse me?”
“Come work for me.”
“Repeating that doesn’t tell me what you’re saying.”
“I own a company. I need someone who can deal with trash like me and keep them away from me. You do not have to be polite to the trash either.” He leaned his chin on a propped-up fist. “Your job would quite honestly be saying what was on your mind and telling me and anyone else off.” He looked and sounded surprisingly sober compared to before.
“Please tell me you didn’t use piña coladas to test a potential hire.”
He grinned. “Not intentionally.”
I folded your arms, trying to gauge whether or not he was being serious. “You’re not saying this because you’re drunk, are you?”
“I’m not drunk!” He argued, eyes wide. “I’ve only had one glass of wine!”
You cringed. “At least tell me it was a large one.”
“N-not particularly.”
“Oh dude, either your acting is pretty on point, or you’re a serious lightweight and should stick to the non-alcoholic menu.” You shook your head.
His already flushed cheeks turned more red. “Wha—“ he huffed. “Do you want the job or not?”
You considered it, a little surprised you were even considering it, and shrugged. “Not sure I believe you still.”
He huffed and fumbled to pull out his wallet, fumbled more, then handed you a business card. “That’s me. Call or show up or anything. My personal cards are like golden tickets.”
You took the card warily.
The side of the cards facing you had a phone number in shimmering gold lettering, and the other side looked like a splash of summer colors—Bold black lettering spelling out his name and the name of the company.
“Hoseok Jung, CEO of HopeWorld Incorporated,” you read aloud, a little…skeptical. “If you are this person, what the heck do you want me for?”
“Honestly…I need someone sensible who won’t just try to stay on my good side. I need someone who will risk their job to threaten anyone that is being ridiculous with murder. I’m bad at that. I need a spiky person cause I’m just…I have things I’m strong on, but there are times when I just need someone to say things like they are. No bull.”
“And based on our interactions here, you think that’s me?”
He nodded. “I only played up the antics a bit.”
“Do you often hire your waitresses?”
He grinned. “No, but I have found most of my best people by chance. One other waiter, but I knew him before.”
“Your best people?”
“You’ve heard of my company?”
“Who hasn’t?”
“Then you’ve heard the names Suga, RM, and V.”
You paused. “Yes.”
“Suga and I met at a club. RM and I met in a museum, and I met V when I was at an animal shelter.” He shrugged. “We had a good rapport. I offered them jobs. My friends over there are also part of my inner circle. It would have been better if you liked piña coladas, but you should still be okay with them.”
You stared over to where his friends were goofing off in the pool. Those idiot men were part of the inner circle of one of the biggest companies ever? The company that….
Two screeched as they went into the water, losing the game of chicken.
“They are part of your brain trust? Is the one even old enough for alcohol?”
“Yeah, he just tends to pick people up when he’s buzzed.”
“So, scandal prone.”
“No, no, I mean physically lift them. Usually just us. He’s not really a social person. Just us.”
“Ah.” You weren’t sure what to make of that.
“Actually—“
“Y/n! I’m not paying you to stand around!”
“With all due respect, sir, I’m done after I finish discussing our menu with this gentleman, Sir.” You called back, then turned to Hoseok. “How much would I be paid?”
“To start...how about $16 an hour?”
You stared at him. “$16 an hour?”
“Plus benefits, we have an excellent benefits program.”
“$16 an hour?” You repeated, a little shocked and numb. Plus benefits, even if you only worked there for a week, you’d be able to cover all of your expenses.
“Alright, okay, fine, $18 an hour—but no more than that until we know if it will work out. Then we can discuss raises. Deal?” He stuck his hand out.
You considered it for a moment, then shook his hand. “Right. Okay. When do I start?”
“Tomorrow, 8 a.m.”
You nodded. “Business dress?”
He shrugged, “If you like. Just dress nicely.”
You nodded. “Fine. Okay. See you then. I have a job to quit.”
He nodded with a smile. “I look forward to working with you.”
———
If you had thought that your means of obtaining this job had been strange, nothing had prepared you for your first day working there.
You had dressed well, wearing your favorite interview outfit because it was the nicest outfit you owned and you would be shopping later today so you knew what you needed to buy.
You entered the sleek looking building, and went to the reception desk. “Hello, I was told to come in today.” You pulled out the business card and showed it to the secretary.
Her eyes widened. “Whoa. You met Mr. Jung?”
“Uhm, yes. Yes I did. And he told me to come in today, at eight.”
“Right, okay, um, let me get you a temporary I.D.so you can get around today, and you’ll have to talk to H.R. later about your permanent one. Take this, and then head up to the top floor, he’ll want you to report straight to his office. At least, that’s what protocol states.”
You nodded, absorbing the information easily. “Top floor, his office, report to HR later for a permanent ID. Return this at the end of the day?”
“Yes, thank you, and good luck on your first day!” She practically sang, going back to her computer.
You slid the ID necklace over your head and went straight for the elevator, hitting the button for the top floor.
The way she spoke was almost like she had never met the CEO, which seemed unlikely to you, but maybe you were just misreading it.
The top floor was as quiet as the rest of the building, and you had a feeling most employees didn’t start until 9. But there was faint music coming from the biggest office—the CEO’s office.
You took a breath to steady yourself and then knocked on the door.
“Come on in, y/n!”
You shook your head slightly and did as told, walking into the office.
Entering the building, you had been pleasantly surprised by the way everything seemed light and airy, with bright splashes of color in appropriate amounts in the appropriate places, making it feel less like an office and more of a...you weren’t sure what it felt like, but it felt nicer than an office.
Entering Hoseok Jung’s office had a similar effect. There were knickknacks, but they weren’t overwhelming, and splashes of color were all throughout the room, but was balanced by a sort of modern elegance of his sleek office furniture and the immense natural lighting.
“Do you like it?”
You considered it all. “It’s not to my taste, but it is well balanced and I can appreciate the aesthetic.”
He grinned. “See, you’re already doing better.”
“The receptionist acts like she’s never seen you before.”
“Oh, well, most people only see J-Hope, one of the senior workers who reports directly to Mr. Jung. That’s how I got into the business to take it over from my father.” He shrugged. “Eventually, they’ll find out that J-Hope is me, but for now, J-Hope is well-liked. My ‘brain trust’ as you called them, will be here in about half an hour, which gives us time. Come on, I’ll show you to your office. Remember, it’s not your job to make friends, it’s your job to call things as you see them.”
You shrugged. “And if that means holding my tongue?”
“Then I trust you to say something later, when you deem the time to be right.”
“You know this is crazy, right?”
He grinned. “I know that you think it’s crazy, but I’m glad you’re telling me.”
You shook your head as you followed him out, noting that he wasn’t wearing a full suit. More like slacks and a shirt that wasn’t a button-up, but also wasn’t a plain t-shirt? Very loose-fitting, possibly a few sizes too big. His slacks weren't even slack, not really. Just grey, loose-fitting pants.
“You don’t dress much like a CEO.”
He chuckled. “I know. Jimin tells me that all the time, trust me, I do when I have to. But J-Hope likes loose clothing.”
You shook your head a bit.
“This will be your office.”
“It’s right next to yours.”
“Well, you are going to be my left-hand person. Left hand office.”
You followed him into the office that was way too good to be true.
“Obviously you can decorate it as you like, outside of the desk. The desk chair you get to choose from a magazine that we use for office supplies. We also ask that you don’t break any walls or windows.”
“I have a balcony,” you breathed.
“Yeah. There’s actually a door out there that connects our balconies, my side is pretty much never locked, but you can lock your side as well.”
“Like in hotels.”
“Yes.”
“So, if I'm your left, who’s your right?”
“Suga. Yoongi. You’ll like him, I think.” He picked up a random sticky note, looking amused. “Last guy didn’t clean out very well, sorry.”
“Shouldn’t a janitor have made it in here since?”
He paused. “Oh. Yes.”
“Which makes me wonder when the last time anything up here has been cleaned.” You ran a finger over the desk, nose wrinkling in disgust at the dust on your fingers.
Hoseok’s eyes widened. “Oh no. Oh no no no.”
“I need to wash my hands,” You said, feeling a little contaminated. “Bathrooms.”
“This way.”
The bathrooms on the top floor were actual bathrooms, as in, one toilet and sink per room instead of the public bathroom style. There were three of them, mostly the same size, but one also had a larger vanity area with drawers under it.
“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to follow you in, but this bathroom is one that we usually keep locked, so if you want to keep makeup or other things in here, no one uses the third drawer over right now.” He tapped it. “You’ll be getting a key to it later today, so you can put it in later if you need to.”
You nodded, wrinkling your nose at the smell of the soap. “Oh, you’re kidding me. Piña colada soap?”
He chuckled, scratching his neck. “You can also bring in your own soap. Yoongi does. He just hasn’t replaced his yet.”
You shook your head. “Right.”
“If it helps, it’s only that during the summer.”
“What is it in winter? Eggnog?”
He shook his head. “Cinnamon rolls.”
“Are you all trying to psychologically torture yourselves?” You asked, drying your hands. “Piña coladas when you have to work, cinnamon rolls to make yourself hungry….”
Hoseok shrugged.
You sighed. “Alright. Where to now?”
“Morning meeting.” He waved for you to follow him, and led the way down to a conference room. “Jimin and Tae bring coffee and pastries and we go over our agendas and projects. Today that will include introducing you. I do have one thing to ask, and it might be inappropriate so if it is you can just hit me—“
“Or you could just not ask it.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “Right. Yeah.”
You helped straighten the chairs, seeing the frown on his face at how disheveled the room was. “So, what will I be doing today, besides accompanying you to fire the janitor.”
He cringed. “Well, tour the company. Stop by HR. Meet the security team. Talk to the janitorial staff and threaten firing them to improve their work ethic. Then if that doesn’t work, yes, you will be there to help me fire people.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be the bad guy. You keep your J-Hope persona.” You sighed. “Really? No one caught onto you being the CEO with the name J-Hope?”
He just grinned again. “Best disguise is right under your nose.”
“The best disguise is an effective one that actually exists.”
“I’m glad I met you,” He responded with a light laugh.
“I’ve been criticizing you since I arrived.” You actually felt guilty about that, but only slightly. You weren’t about to lose sleep over it.
He just smiled. “You’ve been honest. I…I really missed honesty.”
“Your inner circle aren’t honest?”
“They are…but they’re…it’s different. Sometimes you need to shake things up. I think we all need shaking up.”
You frowned. “Okay. Level with me: what happened?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“What happened to make you think that things need to be shaken up?”
His face relaxed, eyes seeming to glaze as they shifted to the meeting table. “I…uh, I lost someone I cared about. You know that cruise ship disaster?”
You nodded. “HopeWorld donated a whole lot of money to cover the bills of those injured, and help cover funeral bills for others. Some people wondered if you guys had some sort of stock in the cruise ship or had been involved in the explosion, but you were just being kind. Plus by helping them out financially they could stand up to the cruise company.”
He shrugged, but also nodded. “And I needed a reason to be there. Looking.”
“Girlfriend or boyfriend?”
He choked out a laugh. “Yeah. And my sister and her husband. And my parents. I was supposed to join them at a different port.”
You felt like you’d been sucker-punched. “Oh my God.”
“Didn’t lose all of them. My dad is still in the hospital, Mom is home but she visits him everyday.” He rubbed his neck. “My sister's husband went back to work just a week ago, and he’s not having an easy time of it, but he’s pushing on. My sister hasn’t woken up yet, but we’re still hopeful. I hope she wakes up soon. She’s the other person I always relied on to be honest with me.”
You slowly nodded. “And your…significant other?”
“Idiot died. One of the lifeboats got stuck on release. Climbed out and cut the rope. Snapped back.” He shrugged again.
“Could have been worse,” You murmured, clenching a fist. You knew that description. You gave that description.
“Ok, this is one time when maybe you shouldn’t be honest.” He rubbed his forehead.
“Hey, my step-dad died because he thought he could swallow a golf ball and decided to try when no one was home. My younger brother tail-gated a semi. My father died from a sliver after saving eight school-age children.” You shrugged. “There are all sorts of ways to go out of this world. Doing the right thing…the heroic thing, that counts for a lot in my book. But there is such a thing as stupidly heroic.”
He stared at you wide-eyed. “A…golf ball?”
You shrugged. “I believe I implied that he wasn’t intelligent.”
Hoseok snorted and then started laughing. “I-I’m sorry!”
You smiled. “Good. Your brain trust will be here soon.”
“Did he…did he really…?”
“It was a little more complicated, and there was booze involved, but essentially, yes.”
“That’s terrible.”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t sound so heartbroken.”
You shrugged. “Life goes on.”
“What does it go on from?” A new voice asked.
You turned to see one of the boys from the pool yesterday.
He looked you up and down, and offered a slight smile and his hand. “Hey. You must be the waitress that Hobi got so excited about hiring yesterday. I’m Taehyung, or, as the media knows me, V.”
You shook his hand. “Y/n. Nice to meet you.”
“Do you like Pina Coladas?” Taehyung asked, setting the box of what you assumed were pastries on the table.
“No.”
He froze a bit. “Really?”
“Really.”
“But...why? Wait...oh no...you don’t like them?” He stared at the box of pastries.
You looked at the box. “Let me guess, non-alcoholic pina colada donuts.”
“We don’t normally get them, I just saw them and I thought it’d be fun….” He looked completely dejected. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. I ate breakfast anyway. I had an omelet, and I have a chocolate muffin in my packed lunch in my office. So, if you would like, I can get that and you can pretend you got it specially for me because I got it from the same shop.”
He gasped. “Their chocolate muffins are amazing.”
“Do you want me to pretend?”
He considered it a moment.
“He doesn’t want everyone to be eating and not you,” Hoseok chuckled. “He’s sweet like that.”
You nodded. “Did the door to my office get locked?”
Hoseok shook his head. “I left it open so that you could get in and out without your keys, and so we could send a janitor in after the meeting. Maybe put your things in our breakroom for now.”
You nodded sharply.
“I’ll get it, if that’s okay with you?” Taehyung said.
You shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat.”
He bounced a bit as he raced out.
“Good job, offering to lie on your first day.” Hoseok looked amused.
“He looked like a kicked puppy. I’m honest, not abusive and heartless. Besides, it’s more to make him feel good. Most people would figure it out, right away.”
Hoseok nodded. “I guess so.”
“It doesn’t breach my not-yet-existing contract to lie, does it?”
He shook his head. “No. It doesn’t.”
Both of you fell quiet as Taehyung came back and slipped the muffin into the box of donuts (carefully).
Then several men arrived at about the same time.
“Hi, y/n! I’m Jimin, and I wasn’t sure what you liked so I got you a chocolate crème frappuccino. Is that okay?”
You nodded, smiling. “Sounds good. Thank you.” You took the cup and studied where they were sitting before taking a seat yourself--at the left hand of Hoseok--when he indicated for you to sit there.
“For the future, what do you normally drink?”
“This,” You answered, smiling. “I try to limit my caffeine intake.”
“Great, I’ll add it to my list and we can discuss alternatives later.” Jimin opened the donut box. “Tae, what have you done?”
“Pina colada donuts,” Tae answered, grinning. “And a muffin for y/n.”
Half of the boys had already grabbed a donut, or were in the process of doing so, but all seemed to freeze a bit.
“Why a muffin for y/n?”
“I don’t like coconut,” You answered, shrugging.
“Wait...at all?” One of them asked, eyes wide.
You sighed. “Nope. That is possible, you know. Just like I’m sure the odds are in my favor that at least one of you doesn’t like seafood. One of you probably doesn’t like coffee, one of you probably doesn’t like tea, and a few of you probably don’t like mint ice-cream.”
They all seemed to be surprised and yet also guilty.
“Well….”
One huffed. “Why did you hire her again? She doesn’t even like pina coladas.”
“Not everyone does,” Hoseok replied easily. “Shall we start our morning download?”
You studied the others as they dug into their donuts, wondering where the odd obsession with pina coladas came from--not for the first time. But they weren’t the only people you’d ever met with the obsession, and you doubted they would be the last.
“Besides, it can’t hurt us to look at things other than pina coladas.”
“Please,” One of them grumbled. “I don’t want to get sick of them.”
“Fine. Then let me ask this,” the huffy one asked. “Y/n, what is your beverage of choice?”
You met his gaze evenly, calculating all of the answers he could expect and all of the answers you could give him. But one stuck out as particularly perturbing for someone like him and a situation like this.
You leaned forward, smiled slightly, and answered, “Water.”
His eyes widened and he spluttered. “Water?”
“Water,” You confirmed cheerfully. “If I have to choose anything, I choose water.”
“Great, you can be the designated driver,” Taehyung joked, amusement sparkling in his eyes.
Huffy sat down, looking like he lost five years off of his life. “No way can we do a water theme….”
“If we could get back to what we’re being paid to be here for, that’d be great,” You said, in a tone that was too sweet to be honest.
Hoseok chuckled a little. “Right. Y/n is here to keep things...possible and practical. Her job is to be bluntly and brutally honest about things. After she gets a feel for this place, I’m sure she’ll feel more comfortable giving us all a piece of her mind. She’ll be shadowing me as J-Hope, and I’m not going to announce her job title for a while.”
“Because you don’t know what to call my job?”
“Pretty much. Anyway, as you guys know, we’re...running a little thin right now, and that’s on me. We’re going to be tightening up the ship, and making sure we’re running properly. Jimin, I need finances from across the company. Tae, I need all of the reports from HR. Jin and Jungkook, I want a list and summary of all of the projects we’re working on right now. Yoongi and Namjoon: keep working on that one project. Anything I need to know right now?”
“We have that event tomorrow, with the food trucks, and we need to decide on the judges.”
“Okay, so, we let everyone who wants to judge put their name on a list, then we’ll draw names from a hat. Jimin’s on the judgement panel as well.”
“I am?”
“You’ll eat anything, the rest of us are too picky. And Jungkook will be filming.” Hoseok made a couple of notes. “I have to talk to our janitorial staff, and y/n will be with me. They haven’t been cleaning up here like they’re supposed to. Y/n’s office was disgusting, and this room was a mess.”
“Uh oh. Firing anyone?”
“He wants to see if talking to them will fix the issue first,” You said dryly. “Which, in my experience, is a waste of time. There’s always someone dragging their feet and I bet if we looked through the HR reports, or even sent me in under cover for a few hours, we’d be able to pinpoint the weak link and remove it from the chain.”
“She’s got a point. I could take her down and tell them she’s doing some work in each department. We’ve done that before, for people who were actually working for one of the departments.” Jimin clicked his pen a couple of times.
Hoseok considered it a moment while he worked on a bite of his donut, then nodded. “Alright. Then we’ll do that. You might need different clothing. If it takes more than a couple of hours, don’t worry about it. If this works, we’ll put you in different departments as though you were experiencing everything. Because I think we need a spy in the HR department as well. Plus anything you find about employee welfare and happiness, that’s always a good thing. We’ll say you’re one of Jimin’s random hires. Get it done.”
Jimin nodded, then checked you over. “They’ll give her a uniform, so we don’t need to worry about her clothing. Maybe just fix your hair so that you look more like ‘random girl’ instead of  ‘sophisticated lady’.”
“Did you just call me a lady?”
“Have you seen yourself?” Jimin shrugged.
“Anyway, finish things here, then y/n dress down and we’ll discuss your work later today. You’ll eat lunch with us, Jimin, make sure to mention that.” Hoseok wrote a couple more things down. “I’ll be in my office, reviewing things. I’ll let you know at lunch what the real plan is. We’re gonna change things.”
“Okay,” Huffy said firmly. “That’s that then. Donuts done, coffee drunk, work to do. Off we go. The sooner we work, the sooner we finish, the sooner we can get a drink.”
That seemed to be the signal for everyone to get up and get moving.
You followed Jimin out, letting him lead you to the bathroom. “Sophisticated lady?”
“Make your hair more casual, maybe remove some of your makeup. And lose the jacket.”
You sighed and did as you were told as he disappeared for a moment, returning with a different shirt and a sweater.
“Try these.”
You looked at them, a little concerned.
“They’re clean, trust me. And they’re more casual than what you’re wearing.”
You waved him out of the room again, changing into the new shirt and sweater, a little disturbed at how well they fit. “Where did you get these?” You asked, opening the door again.
“Someone left them behind. Can’t remember when, can’t remember who, just remember they didn’t work here.” He checked his own hair while you switched your hair from a bun to a nice-looking pony-tail. “Can’t even remember why her shirt and sweater were left behind. Think she borrowed one of mine?”
You stared at him. “Did you sleep with this girl?”
He turned back to you with a half-smile. “No. I was drunk, but no. My boyfriend at that time wouldn’t have been too thrilled.”
“Do you have baggage about said boyfriend as your friend does about the significant other that he lost?” You asked, studying the impish man in front of you.
Jimin’s smile died a bit. “Told you about that, did he?”
“More or less. Focused more on the ones that survived rather than the one that died. So, baggage: yes or no?”
Jimin came and stood right in front of you, then moved closer, reaching and closing the bathroom door, locking it.
You clenched a fist, just in case.
“Baggage...yes. Same ship. All of us, the whole board, everyone in there. My boyfriend...we were at the point of breaking up anyway, so I feel guilty about that, because he wouldn’t have been there if I had. Hoseok was going to propose. Namjoon’s childhood friend. Yoongi’s girlfriend was paralyzed, and her brain...she only recognizes her family and she’s...not doing well. Two of Taehyung’s friends. Jungkook’s brother. Seokjin’s whole family, except his nephew. He jokes about drinking, but he really just wants to get to the daycare at a decent time. If he knows he has to stay late, he has a babysitter that brings his nephew here. Hoseok feels a lot of responsibility because he was the one who suggested we have a board retreat and invite family and friends. Seokjin, Taehyung, Namjoon, and Jungkook were all there when it happened. Myself, Yoongi, and Hoseok were delayed because of an emergency on a project we were heading up.”
You nodded slowly. “Got it. So, this company is being run by seven people who have undergone a whole lot of trauma and grief in the past six months. That doesn’t sound at all like a recipe for disaster.” Eight, a little voice whispered, eight if you’re included.
Jimin nodded a bit. “Right. What did you lose in that accident?”
You held his gaze steadily. “The will to please others with false actions and honeyed words.”
Jimin’s head tilted slightly and his eyes narrowed just a bit.
“My older brother worked on that ship, one of the engineers. He’d been filing reports like a good little worker bee about some of the issues they were seeing, but the reports were being ignored. He was threatened, and told to keep quiet if he wanted to keep his job. He told me, I told him to fight, to make sure no one got on that damn ship.”
“But he didn’t,” Jimin whispered, gaze shifting away from you.
“But I gave the people suing that company everything they needed to win their case, especially with HopeWorld providing the financial means for everyone to fight. It was serious neglect on their part, but even I was too pliant to do anything about it. So I’m done. I’m done trying to please others and put up with their crap and if you don’t unlock that door, I’m sorry, but I might punch you.”
He unlocked it. “Right. Sorry.”
“I’ve been dealing with too many thugs from the cruise company. That’s why I was job hunting. That’s why I got that job at the bar. It was a favor that a friend called in from the owner, but they both thought I was a bad fit. I was just desperate. And then Hoseok came in drunk on one glass of wine and complaining about a virgin pina colada.”
“That’s why he wouldn’t stop talking about virgins,” Jimin muttered. “He kept saying something about virgins being confident, and that he wished he was that confident, and that he was joking about not ordering virgins and it was all weird.”
“He should not be allowed to drink.”
“Well, normally he’s a sober and sleepy drunk, so, yesterday was a bit of an outlier. Happiest I’d seen him in a while, though. Especially after he met you.” He was studying you again.
“If you have something to say, then say it. I told you, I’m not waiting around for BS.”
“You’re not like the person he lost, I can tell that right away. But you’re the first person he’s shown...interest in. I guess I’m just curious about what he saw that intrigued him so much.”
“My winning personality and barbed words,” You answered, then grabbed your wallet from your purse and tucked it into your pocket, shoving the purse into the empty drawer that Hoseok had pointed out earlier. “What was the person he lost like?”
“Soft, a little...out-there, artistic, wild dreamer, adventurous, spontaneous,” Jimin listed, then shrugged. “Different.”
You paused to look at Jimin again. “When you said he’s taken an interest in me, did you mean….”
“Possibly romantically. Not definite, but there’s always a few different paths interest in other people can take us, isn’t there. If you’re anything like I’m assuming you are, you’d actually be a good match for him.” Jimin walked out. “Now, come on. We’ve got work to do.”
-----
-----
You were undercover in HopeWorld for a week before you finally were able to return and start moving into your office--having turned in a twenty-page report on your findings while working undercover.
And it was spotlessly clean this time, and there was a computer there. It was even sporting a nice, new plant in the one corner with a card that read it was from all of the other board members.
The winky-face said that Taehyung had been in charge of delivering it and writing the note.
So you set to unpacking the small box of office supplies that you were bringing in.
You were getting a corkboard and a whiteboard later, plus two more chairs so that anyone else in your office could sit down (or you could switch seats through the day if you needed to), and you definitely planned on bringing some more plants here since it got more sunlight than your tiny flat did.
So you unpacked a couple of empty binders, sheafs of paper, a few notebooks, your new pens and pencils, and your pen and pencil holders. You set a photo-frame on your desk. You pulled out a bottle of lotion and put it in one of your desk drawers.
And that’s where you found the photo of Hoseok with the person that had to be his lover.
“Of course,” You murmured, sighing, then you set the photo aside to return to him at your meeting later.
In the past week, you’d gotten a pretty good read on most of the boys, even Yoongi.
But Seokjin was distant, and kept you distant. He didn’t stick around on the days you were in what was technically his department, instead finding an excuse to be elsewhere.
Taehyung and Jimin had both shrugged when you told them that Seokjin was avoiding you.
“Don’t see why he would,” Jimin said, and you knew he was being honest.
It was fine. The boys weren’t your job anyway. Your job was to look at things practically, find problems or potential problems, and present them to people who could fix them. Your job was to question everything so that every eventuality is considered and the best product of the workers' time is produced.
“That’s not a very big box for such a big office.”
You jumped and dropped the stapler, but jumped back so that it wouldn’t staple you on accident (something that had, unfortunately, happened before). “You trying to give me a heart attack?”
Seokjin shrugged, strolling in casually and picking it up. “Not my intention.”
“Then what is your intention?” You asked, wondering what could have brought the illusive man to your office before the morning meeting. According to the others, and your own experiences, he was always just barely on time for the meeting.
He just looked at you carefully. “Can I ask you a question, and get an honest answer?”
“Fire away,” You replied, lifting an eyebrow curiously.
He moved closer so he was looking you in the eye. “Why did you take this job?”
You frowned a bit, stepping back and trying to figure out why he was asking that. But also, how to answer.
“Please answer honestly.”
“Jimin told you about my brother, the cruise ship?”
“Yes. He told all of us, Hoseok too. Hoseok had his suspicions. I don’t think they know that you were on the ship as well.”
You huffed out a laugh and leaned against your desk. “Good. I don’t need any of that nonsense.”
He nodded. “You were answering my question.”
You took a deep breath and then released it, looking at the ceiling. “Desperation. Have to pay the rent. And he seemed...optimistic.” There was something appealing to that optimism. Something familiar and comfortable. Refreshing.
“What did he tell you your job was going to be?”
“Dealing with trash that tried to get near him.”
“What’s on your resume?”
“Nothing to make me qualify for this office. And if you think I’m here because I’m taking advantage of his kindness...I can’t say that you’re wrong, but I’m also just curious about what he intends for me. Don’t think that I enjoy saying that someone is dead weight. They’re people, and they need to make a living somehow, but they need to make that living honestly. THere are people who want jobs, who need jobs, who are actually willing to put in the work.”
“So, going undercover…?”
“It was a solution that would alleviate the feelings of guilt that our boss might have felt if we hadn’t fully investigated and ended up firing someone. Besides, he strikes me as a bit of a neat freak, so I figure the janitorial staff should be top-notch. I did hear a rumor that J-Hope had liberated a cleaning cart and taken it to the top floor, though.”
Jin sighed, shaking his head. “He really hasn’t trusted the cleaning staff since your first day.”
“Lovely. Did he clean this office?”
“Gotta admire his work ethic.”
You shook your head. “So, I’m not the only person who’s almost completely in the dark about what my job actually is, am I?”
“I think he keeps rethinking what he wants for you.”
“And you’ve been avoiding me because…?”
He shrugged a bit. “I haven’t. It’s been a bad week for my nephew. I’ve been in and out of the office all week. Plus I’ve been working with Hobi.”
You both jumped as someone banged on your office door.
Hoseok threw it open with a grin, then halted, surprised. “Oh, hyung.”
“Hey, Hoseok-y. Y/n and I were just talking. I’ll leave you two to discuss y/n’s job. Because I think we’re all confused about it.” Seokjin took one of your paperclips and left.
Hoseok looked after him in confusion. “Did he ask if he could take that paperclip?”
“Um, no, but it’s just a paperclip. You read the report?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Good work on that. Sorry you were thrown into it so soon after starting.”
“You mean my first day.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. Your first day. So, I’ve figured out what your story is going to be.”
“My story?”
“Whenever a higher-up is brought in, they’re presented to the company. There are already rumors about a higher-up being brought into Mr. Jung’s board, and it’s extremely unorthodox for us to not present you within the first two weeks. So, we’ve got a couple days leeway to get you settled into your actual job.”
“I’m pretty sure that was part of my actual job.”
“Right. Anyway, I thought we might tell people that you’re the eyes and ears of Mr. Jung, and that one of your jobs is ensuring that we are at top potential.”
“Ok.”
“Which is basically what we already said, but I want to make it clear that you are in direct communication with HR and all reports go to you at the end of the day. I’m just having trouble coming up with your title.”
“Quality manager?”
He paused. “Ok, you’re really good. How have you not worked in a job like this before?”
“Hard times, big sacrifices. So, if I’m understanding things correctly, you want me to look through the reports on behaviors and such and make sure they’re looked into and that we’re paying attention, but also you want me to check in on projects and make sure we’re asking all the right questions.”
“Exactly. Quality manager is an excellent way of describing that job. But also, your job is to keep people from trying to see Mr. Jung. Mr. Jung has enough on his plate.”
You nodded. “I can do that. Shall we practice? I read through the notes on that memory core device.”
He grinned. “Sounds great. But first, the morning meeting.”
You nodded. “Thank you for cleaning my office, by the way.”
He just smiled back. “I can’t stand messes.”
“I gathered. You’ve got a pretty big one downstairs, though.”
“Yeah, I’m kind of dreading firing people though.”
“Then let me handle it. You can be there as a known authoritative figure and I’ll do the talking.”
“They might get mad at you for spying.”
“Then I trust you to handle their subsequent anger appropriately. I’ll try to keep things professional.”
“Thanks.”
“For?”
“Even offering to do any of this. I wasn’t really ready to take on the boss position. But I can’t sit by while people abuse their place in this company. I have to deal with the messes. My family didn’t build this legacy for me to let it fall apart.” His gaze was darker, but held determination to continue forward. A sternness to see things through.
The side of J-Hope that was the CEO of HopeWorld.
“I think once you get over the first trials you’ll be just fine.”
He looked at you in surprise. “You think?”
“I believe,” you amended. “I believe you are capable of being a great leader. I believe even though you are generous and compassionate, you will be able to handle the harder parts of this job for the good of the many employees who are doing their jobs to the best of their ability. Because that’s what it means when people are fired. The waste they accumulate is returned to the company and those that are still with it can benefit, or others who need the job take it and actually accomplish it. You’re improving efficiency, which makes the company prosper so you can do more for your employees.”
He slowly nodded. “That makes sense.”
You nodded. “Look at me: I could actually afford a new work outfit.”
He grinned, looking you over. “And it’s a great outfit.”
Okay. You hadn’t expected that.
“Are you implying something inappropriate?”
“Never. I just think it’s a very appropriate look and that it is very good at accentuating your good looks. You’re very good at shopping.”
You weren’t. Not really. Taehyung and Jimin had tagged along and helped you shop because you weren’t sure what would be best for the job and position. You had picked the items out, but Jimin and Taehyung had helped you style them together and decide on them.
“Sounds inappropriate to me.”
He chuckled. “Can’t you just take the compliment? It’s early.”
“If you compliment me, people might think that you’re showing favoritism.”
“Let them,” He answered easily, shrugging and holding the door open for you.
“Are you drunk again? I told you, you really shouldn’t drink.” You folded your arms.
He just laughed. “In. We’re late.”
“If we are, it’s your fault,” You replied, walking in and waving to the other men.
“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t dream of blaming you. Morning, everyone.” Hoseok took his seat. “What’s the day look like?”
“Same as yesterday, except whatever you and y/n are up to. My project is almost ready to present, Seokjin’s coming to help me today.”
“I do have my nephew today, he’s having a bad day,” Seokjin said quietly, making notes.
“That’s fine,” Hoseok said firmly, Namjoon merely nodding. “People like seeing him, and we’ve always said that kids are welcome as long as they don’t disturb others.”
“And he can come to my office anytime,” Taehyung said with a fond grin.
Seokjin nodded. “I have a meeting with my division just before lunch?”
Taehyung grinned. “We can color!”
Jimin rolled his eyes. “Work, Taehyung. He can color, you can design.”
“Right. Right. That.”
“I need Yoongi-hyung’s help on the memory-core project.”
Hoseok looked mildly intrigued, glancing at you.
“I can head down after I check on my project. Might be an hour or so.” Yoongi checked his watch.
Hoseok nodded. “And we’ll be there in about two hours so that Y/n can look things over as my second set of eyes.”
Jungkook looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “O-oh, o-o-okay.”
The others looked mildly surprised, but quickly moved on.
“I’ll be on phone meetings to organize that event most of the morning. Our employees really enjoyed the food truck war, and it’s summer, so I think it’s best to try and have enjoyable events as frequently as possible during the weeks we can’t give them 3-day weekends.” Jimin twirled his pen as he spoke, looking over something on his planner.
“I’ll leave it in your hands, just don’t go over budget.” Hoseok jotted a few things down. “Okay. Y/n and I have to deal with some unsatisfactory employees, then we’ll be down to see how things are going with the memory core. Not sure about our afternoon, but I might leave that for her to settle in. How does that sound to you?”
“If ‘settle in’ means looking over reports, then that sounds fine.”
He nodded, flipping his book closed. “Alright. Then off we go.”
You got up and followed him out, and into the elevator.
“It’ll be best to go to them since it would draw a lot of attention to bring them up. We need the head of janitorial service with us as well, and I want to apprise her of what’s going to happen before we do it. You were smart to record the conversation, I’ll present that to Chiseul.”
Chiseul had been in charge of sanitation at the company for eight years, she was kind, but firm and had no patience for slacking. When you’d worked under her, even for a day, you could tell she expected the best. She had put who she thought were her best people in charge of cleaning the top floor, but instead they had been doing very basic cleaning and actually stealing from the company.
Her reaction to finding out was silent fury. “Are you sure you don’t want me to fire them?”
“We believe that it’s best for us to handle it, that way others will know that they can’t pull anything. I’m sorry we deceived you,” You said respectfully, because you did respect her. You’d put in your report that she should get a raise.
Hoseok nodded. “We will be implementing a system to keep people accountable soon.”
She accepted that with a sharp nod and then went to call those who would be fired into her office.
Hoseok groaned as soon as the elevator doors closed. “That could have gone better.”
------
You held the ice to your face and shrugged. “Could have gone worse. Security stepped in at the appropriate time. And I didn’t fight back, which means I can’t be charged with assault should they try anything like that. There were also multiple witnesses.”
“But you got hurt,” He argued, rubbing his face. “You got hurt.”
“So, I’ll have a black eye. I walk to work, so it’s not like I’ll be driving while mildly impaired. We got ice on it pretty quickly, and I don’t think it will end up being too bad of a black eye.”
“You got hurt,” He whispered.
“And I’m fine. Hoseok, we’re on our way to look over a major project in your company. Pull yourself together.” You reached over and straightened his collar. “It’s a bruise, not a fatal wound.”
He caught your wrist, holding you in place so he could move the ice pack with his other hand and see, the whole time his expression holding worry and what might have been nausea. “Why would they attack you? I was there too. Why would they only attack you?”
He wasn’t asking. He wasn’t listening.
“Betrayal,” You answered anyway, sighing a little and forcing the ice-pack back to your face.
“Uh, you two coming out of there or do you need another moment?” Yoongi asked, an eyebrow raised as he looked between you, not seeming to care that he’d startled both of you since you’d been too busy looking at one another to realize the elevator was open. But his gaze stuck on the ice pack. “Shit, they hit you?”
“Don’t you start too,” You groaned, exiting the elevator.
Hoseok stopped you, pulling you back so he could look at your eye again. “Hyung, look at her eye.”
Yoongi frowned a bit more, but complied. His eyes widened a bit. “Uh…infirmary.”
“Thought so.” Hoseok pulled you back into the elevator.
“Oh, come on,” You groaned.
Yoongi just shushed you. “Your eye looks bloody.”
“Oh.” Well, that was special. It didn’t especially hurt, but that might be because you were numbing the area.
But Hoseok ended up taking you to the hospital for evaluation.
As the two of you walked out of the hospital, you sighed for the fortieth time. “Told you I was fine.”
“That’s not what he said.”
“He said that I should be fine and to come back in if my eye gets worse or I start having other issues. It was probably her ring that got me.” You glanced at your watch. “Man, I’m not going to experience a regular workday, am I?”
His head dropped. “Sorry.”
“Not your fault. I’d probably get bored if it got too quiet. And feeling sorry doesn’t do any good. You didn’t hurt me, so you’re wasting energy by being sorry.”
“I know, but I got you into this job—“
“Are you thirsty?” You asked, stopping.
“What?”
“Are you thirsty?” You asked slowly.
“Um, I guess?”
You nodded and pulled him into the restaurant, dragging him to the bar.
“I don’t think you should have alcohol—“
“Hi, can I get a water with lemon and a Piña colada?” You asked the bartender, ignoring Hoseok. You had no intention of drinking, but Hoseok was so tense it was making you tense.
He stared at the piña colada. “What?”
“Drink. You’re driving me crazy. You need to relax and I doubt you’re going to do it on your own. I’ll make sure you don’t end up in a back alley.” You patted his hand.
“So…if you could drink, what would it be?” He asked.
“Probably a gimlet, with extra lime. But like I said, my preferred drink is water. I like to keep my head clear. There’s less golf-ball swallowing.”
He snorted and choked on his second sip of his drink.
You patted his back as he tried to recover from choking, and he was laughing in between coughing which wasn’t helping at all.
The bartender was looking concerned.
“His wife left him for his sister and his brother in law confessed his love to him, it’s a royal mess,” you told him, rolling your eyes.
Hoseok died a little more. “Stop,” He gasped, finally just laughing.
“It’s not my fault he thinks your butt is cute.”
He collapsed off of the stool, thudding to the ground and laughing harder.
“Man, two sips and you’re already drunk. You better not ask me if I like that nastiness again.”
He got up with your help, starting to calm down. “I won’t ask that.”
“Good. But seriously, I’m cutting you off. You’re too much of a lightweight.” You settled the bill with some extra for the bartender, then guided him toward the door.
But both of you stopped at the door.
“It’s raining?” Hoseok asked, still a little breathless.
“It would appear so.” You looked up at the sky.
“Do you like getting caught in the rain?” He asked quietly, holding out his hand.
You laughed softly, taking his hand. “I actually really do.”
“Really?” He smiled as he laced his fingers with yours.
“Really,” You confirmed, looking out at the rain with a little excitement.
“You might ruin your clothing.”
“Clothing washes, as do I.” You tugged and pulled him out into the rain, giggling as the rain started soaking into you.
He laughed as well, looking less comfortable in the rain, but like he was willing to let you lead him through it.
No.
Like he would follow you into anything.
“Why did you offer me the job?” You asked.
He met your gaze with surprise.
“Why me?”
He smiled at you, stepping closer so he could be heard. “I couldn’t say goodbye.”
You tilted your head.
“I couldn’t say goodbye to you, not at that time, and I don’t know why, but I’m trying to figure it out.”
You could work with that.
Hoseok touched your cheek, then moved in.
You knew your eyes were a little wide.
He gave a slight smile and then leaned in to kiss you.
You allowed it, and you didn’t regret it as his lips met yours. It was…new. Different. Right.
Except for one tiny detail.
You pushed him away gently. “Okay. But you need a new go-to drink because I forgot to mention I’m actually allergic to coconut, so, I’m gonna take some allergy meds now.”
His eyes widened. “I like mimosas and daiquiri.”
You nodded, swallowing an allergy pill. “Great. We won’t kill me, then.”
“How allergic are you?”
You shrugged. “I should be fine now.”
“Okay.”
“So, if you want to kiss me, we can do that again.”
He met your gaze, smiling. “That sounds like a bad idea.”
You rolled your eyes, then pulled him in. “Kiss me.”
He grinned. “Man, I love your honesty.”
And in the rain, you kissed your piña colada man, ignoring what might happen in your future.
“Might not be a permanent job, my judgement might be clouded. I might show favoritism.”
“Then call me a consultant pending permanent employment and depending where this takes us we’ll…let the others decide my fate.”
“Works for me. Let me walk you home. Where do you live?”
You gestured vaguely. “That way. About fifteen minutes from your building. Work. Place.”
“When you said you were a virgin—”
“I never said I was a—walk. We’re getting soaked standing here like idiots and I hear thunder.” You started walking, keeping hold of his hand. “That or I start reevaluating what parts you really need.”
He laughed. “You know what’s funny?”
“No.”
“When you’re actually being honest, your hands relax, and when you’re bluffing, they get all tense.”
Huh.
“What is your biggest concern with the memory core?”
You considered it for a moment. “It could just be a matter of wording.”
“That’s still important.”
“The proposal suggests imprinting all of the memories of the player onto the memory core so that full immersion is more stimulating.”
“Right.”
“But it’s wording makes it sound like the game is replacing their memories. Imagine someone overwrites the data: what happens when the player tries to re-immerse themselves?”
He was quiet for a while. “That…could be….”
“Disastrous. This machine is supposed to work with your brain, but corrupted files could shut the brain down or damage it. It is incredibly dangerous if I’m understanding it correctly.”
“It could hurt people. We have to tick every box. And come up with fail safes.”
“To me, it’s not worth the risk. But that’s why I wanted to talk to them, to make sure I was understanding things.” You gestured to a building. “This is me.”
He nodded, only following when you tugged on his hand. “Are you sure you want me—”
“We’re soaked and the wind is picking up, and—” lightning flashed through the sky, “the storm is getting worse. We’ll call you a cab or something.”
“Right. Inside. Good idea.”
You ditched your shoes the moment you got in, rushing to the bathroom to grab towels so the two of you didn’t drip all over everything. “It’s a bit hot in here, sorry, my AC broke.”
“Just means we’re not going to get chilled,” He answered, taking the towel and looking around. “It’s nice.”
You glanced around as well. You’d opted for minimalism since that was the only way to make the place not feel claustrophobic. “It does the job.”
“So, you’re allergic to coconut?”
“Mostly the consumption, but I do have mild reactions externally as well.”
“How’d you find out?”
“Coconut hair treatment with my friend when I was fifteen. They had to cut my hair off because my scalp blistered and broke out and it was…traumatizing. But that was because it was coconut oil right against my skin for over an hour, undiluted. My daily allergy meds help if I happen to use, I don’t know, soap with coconut in it.” You put the kettle on the stove since you were feeling kind of chilled. “Tea?”
“Sure.” He started examining the photos on your wall (all three of them). “So, if I hadn’t been the last straw for that job, where do you think you’d be right now?”
“Dumping a scotch-neat on my boss’s head, if not down his pants, after quitting and looking for a job with less drunk people. My boss was drunk, my coworkers were drunk, everyone was drunk, except me. Do you know how surreal that feels?”
“And yet you accepted a job from me, someone who was drunk?”
“So you admit it,” You pointed out.
He rubbed his neck. “I usually only drink in the evenings, it generally makes me sleepy.”
“You had caffeine with your alcohol, then.”
“Accidentally.”
“That would explain the whole ‘why is the rum always gone’ debacle.”
He was very red looking in profile, but that could have been the lighting. “Yeah. I was embarrassed as I did it and yet I didn’t stop. Stupid.”
“If I hadn’t been having a terrible night, I probably would have enjoyed the reference, honestly. But, as you put it, you were the last straw. I would probably be applying to fast food right about now if it hadn’t been you.” You watched him studying your photos far longer than they were worth studying. “Are my photos that interesting?”
“These three were the ones you consciously decided to display, which means they mean something to you.”
You thought about that for a moment, thinking about all of the photos of families that the people you’d worked under while spying had shown you. Always the kids, always the wife, always the beloved pet.
But Hoseok had no photos in his office.
“You don’t keep any photos visible in your office, and office photos are, arguably, the ones that provide the most insight into people,” You countered, sitting on the floor with the tray of tea on the coffee table.
He joined you on the floor. “It’s a precaution. I keep the photos in J-Hope’s desk, the locked drawer. I’m surprised you noticed, though.”
“I wouldn’t have, but people kept shoving their photos in my face and if they weren’t, then I was redirecting their attention to their photos so I would get away with my snooping. People like to talk about themselves.”
He was watching you, a soft smile on his face. “You really are something else.”
You shrugged. “Don’t know what to tell you there.”
“We could hide it, you know. Us, whatever we are?”
“Professional flirtation,” You guessed, holding the mug and surprised at how cold your fingers had been. “Workday dalliance?”
“Wow, um, anyway, we could just not tell anyone about us.”
“9 to 5 lovers,” You quipped, trying to come up with more.
“Are you purposefully ignoring me?”
“Ye-es,” You dragged out, trying to think of another thing to call it.
“You don’t think we could?”
“I think the boys would figure it out before the morning meeting ended.”
“Oh, right, I didn’t mean from the boys.”
“Oh, ok, please continue.” You leaned on your hand and watched him.
“We stay away from anything unprofessional at work, with the exception of in private, and we make sure no one catches on. Then, when I officially take my position...we reevaluate where we are and adjust accordingly.”
“Officially take your position?”
“Technically, I’m not yet the CEO, my father is, but I’ve been acting CEO for about three years.”
He didn’t add that they had been the most prosperous three years of the company’s history, but maybe he was trying to stay humble.
“So, once he’s better and we finish a few things, he’ll hand over things to me officially. In front of the company.”
“Revealing that J-Hope is actually his son and everyone’s boss.”
He nodded. “Which would also be revealing that you have been working for me.”
“All of which could be potentially disastrous.”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “I bet you’d say I should have been open about it the whole time.”
“Not at all. I think this was the best course of action. Everyone respects J-Hope, they like him. They like his work ethic, they like how he listens, and they like how he cares. They like how bright and cheerful he is. They don’t know if they can trust their CEO, but they know that the board has been taking care of them and the CEO has been allowing it. They’re curious, and a little apprehensive.” You remembered all of the conversations you’d had over the week.
But one stuck out to you.
You’d been getting coffee with one of the employees in the marketing department, discussing the company and it’s leadership.
“I don’t know about the CEO. Or, well,” She flustered for a second. “I don’t know why he feels the need to hide from us. His father never did, but maybe there’s a plan. Every now and then, they have someone who sort of...scopes things out. They had me in project development for a couple of weeks so that I could tell them what I thought of the person that was testing the projects. That person was Mr. Jeon.”
You’d tilted your head, confused.
“Jeon Jungkook, he’s one of the board members, the youngest board member. He’s really good at catching on, which makes him a prime test subject for things that are about to be released. We can’t bring people in, not often, because information tends to get leaked. He’s been a godsend to the company. Mr. Jung found him, too, he’s found just about every top employee, and all of the board members--except J-Hope. He worked his way up through the company, and then impressed Mr. Jung Sr. and was given a job on the board. He looks after employee welfare and we’ve had an amazing increase in our benefits program ever since. It’s a shame Mr. Jung Jr. didn’t start out like J-Hope.”
“What’s that look for?”
You jumped a bit, refocusing on him. “All of the things that J-Hope has done are your accomplishments. You’ve improved the benefits program, upgraded the retirement package, made sure that everyone has received pay increases, and you worked your way up through the company. Your intellect lies in people, and your devotion to your job as their employer has inspired loyalty to you. I’m not saying you should go out tomorrow and reveal that you’re Mr. Jung Jr.”
“Do they really call me that?” He cringed.
“But you shouldn’t fear...telling them who you are. Yes, it could cause problems, but only momentarily. Until then, you want me to help you deal with trash and question everything so that the ship is running tightly when the official transfer happens. Right?” You asked, sitting up straight. “That way if anything happens with stocks, or the market, the company is running smoothly and will stay afloat.”
“You have a business degree, don’t you?”
“I never graduated,” You corrected easily. “But I did study some business, yes. This is what you want from me, correct?”
“Yes. I need you to tell me to suck it up when I hesitate.”
“Okay. Did you read my report on the other departments?”
He nodded slowly.
“Then I suggest you decide what should be done to those employees, and what you’re actually willing to do. Because I outlined my suggestions for each of them, but ultimately, it is up to you. You want to run a tight ship, you need to get rid of excess crew, which sounds terrible, but it’s true. If they’re not doing their job, they have no reason to be on deck. And some of them were on the wrong decks.”
He nodded. “I’ll review it once more, but we’ll probably go with your suggested actions.”
“Okay. Glad we understand each other.” You grabbed your phone, checking it. “Taehyung wants to know if I’m alive, and if I’m alive, is Hoseok alive as well.”
“Crap,” He went into his pocket. “Oh. They just wanted to go drinking. Taehyung is our usual designated driver. He’s not a big drinker like Jungkook and Jimin. I’m going to ask him to swing by and pick me up. If that’s okay.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t know how you felt about where you lived. You’re kind of hard to read.”
“I live here, I pay the rent, it’s small, but it’s mine. Or were you referring more to a bunch of men knowing where I, a single woman, lived?”
“The latter.”
“Ah, sweet of you to be concerned, but Jimin’s already seen my place.”
“He has?” Hoseok frowned.
“He dropped me off after we went shopping. None of the stores had bathrooms. Nature called.” You shrugged.
“I don’t like that,” Hoseok muttered, obviously more to himself.
“You don’t like that he had to use the bathroom? Or that we went shopping together? Because, technically, he was the only board member I was allowed to be seen with as one of his employment experiments.” You pointed out, waiting for him to pull himself together and continue texting Taehyung. “Also, you might want to text him before it’s too late.”
“That he saw your house.”
“Interesting. Text Taehyung,” You instructed carefully. “Before you have to pay for a cab.”
He did, but he was frowning the whole time.
You rolled your eyes. “Jimin was here for all of five minutes. I doubt he could even tell you what color the walls in the bathroom are.”
“Color,” He muttered, getting up and heading to the small hall.
“Um….”
“Purple. Walls are purple. Take that.”
“Oh my god, there is no way you’re even buzzed, why are you acting weird?”
“Purple. Blue. White. Three pictures.”
You rolled your eyes, and shook your head. “Weirdo. I mean, I knew that, only weird people like pina coladas--”
He caught you and kissed you again. “Don’t let Jimin in. He’s a minx. He’s a fox. That magic trickster fox that seduces you. A succubus.”
“Incubus,” you corrected. “Which is a sort of demon. Magical fox thing is a kitsune. You’re mixing your mythologies.”
“You’re so smart,” He said, but he said it in a sort of happy, sighing way while looking at you so softly and gently and adoringly….
You believed him.
He touched your cheek, then quickly pulled his hands away. “Alright. How about a rule?”
“Depends on the rule,” You replied.
“You have good judgement, and self control,” His gaze shifted to your eye, and his fingers brushed the edge of the bruising with a feather-light touch, “So, I want there to be a rule that at work, any...personal things between us are initiated by you. Which means you can shut me down at any time, anyway you feel necessary.”
“You mean, like asking you about your ex?”
“Ouch,” He muttered, looking down. “Yeah. Sure. What do you want to know?”
“Am I replacing your ex?”
He shook his head. “Not even remotely.”
“I’m in their office.”
He looked up, then shook his head. “No, you’re in my mom’s old office. Yesuel never worked at HopeWorld. Too much of a free-spirit.”
“But you loved them all the same.”
“I did. I thought I did. Love is...tricky.”
“Are you ready for another significant other?” You asked.
He met your gaze, holding it. “Do you like getting lost in the rain?”
You smiled. “You know I do.”
“Then you know I am,” He replied easily, fingers resting under your chin. “Are you going to be okay, with your eye like that? They did say it could get worse, and if it does….”
“Are you asking if you can stay? Because you’d have to borrow clothing, or live in a blanket until your clothing is dry. I don’t have much that would fit you.”
“I’m worried about you. I’ll stay on the couch.” He touched a strand of your still-damp hair. “Eye injuries are dangerous.”
“Didn’t you already tell Taehyung to come pick you up?”
He shook his head. “I was just going to walk down to work and get my car and pretend that Taehyung picked me up.”
You hit him lightly. “And if you got struck by lightning?”
“My company would be in good hands,” He answered, shrugging slightly. “But I would miss out on a few things. But you can get hit by lightning and live.”
“Not well,” You argued, frowning.
He gently ran a thumb over your eyebrow, as though to ease away your frown. “Besides, I was already struck by you. I don’t think anything could knock me off my feet like that, I don’t think anything ever has. You’re new and unique. And I want to know everything I can about you. Even if you don’t like pina coladas. Even if you are a virgin.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re addicted to it,” He replied easily, smirking at you.
And yes.
You were.
It was crazy, but you were completely addicted to the banter with him, the way he smiled while you were grumbling, the way he asked what you thought of things and actually listened. You liked his gentleness and compassion.
He brought hope back to your world.
“I agree to your rule,” You whispered.
Hoseok grinned and kissed you.
Your future was going to be crazy...but maybe the consistency of his smile was enough to get you through.
64 notes · View notes
laceymorganwrites · 3 years
Text
Shallow love
Word count: 2,128
Pairing: Nacht x reader
Warnings: SPOILER ALERT, swearing, teeny bit of gore, insecurities, I probaby butchered his character >.< I´m so sorry, baby
A/N: NACHT APPEARS IN TODAY´S EPISODE SO OMG I HAD TO POST THIS!!!!
okay so
Nacht is my second favorite Black Clover character and yes, I am currently: freaking out. also he has Dabi´s VA so: perfection. 
I will definitely post more about him in the future! I just wanted to get this out today since it just fit so well <333 I´ll be back to regular posting in April
You didn´t think that you would ever be able to feel peace again and go back to your normal life after the attack of the Diamond kingdom.
And yet here you were, in the calm after the storm.
It was weird. Everything was in chaos, the villages and overall buildings were even more destroyed than when the eye of the midnight sun attacked.
Everything was as per usual at the Black Bull´s base, nothing out of the ordinary except for Yami forcing Nacht to stay now.
You´ve known him for a long time now, being the first member of the squad, and you never could read him. He always intrigued you.
And yet he also always made you distance yourself from him.
Nacht was the type of guy who was too blunt for his own good. You appreciated honesty, but he just always made it hurt.
You knew full well that you weren´t an innocent little lamb, but who was?
What irked you most about him was how badly he thought and spoke about his own squad, to this day you asked yourself why he even joined in the first place, he could´ve just as easily denied Yami´s order.
Sure, Yami could be persistent, but that wouldn´t stop someone like Nacht.
There had to be more to the two of them but over the years you learned that you just didn´t want to know.
Every time you approached Nacht about it he just shut you off and reminded you of all your flaws again.
Like he always did. With everyone.
Except for Asta, like everyone, he took a liking to the little guy.
Though, you had to admit Nacht seemed more open and approachable after the war. And yet you didn´t.
Instead you watched him at first reluctantly, over time without any hesitation, becoming rather friendly, talking to the rest of the squad.
In all those years you have known him you always asked yourself whether you really did. You highly doubted it.
You just couldn´t figure him out. Did he just wear a mask? Were all of his infuriating smiles for show? Was it all a game to him? What were his goals?
And why…
No. You didn´t want to think about that.
What was the point anyway? Anyone got a crush at some point, the only difference was that crushes usually didn´t last this long.
Especially if said person didn´t pay you any mind unless they were insulting you.
Nacht mostly stayed to himself, making it known he didn´t want anything to do with the rest of the squad.
Though like anyone else who stayed with them for a long amount of time, he warmed up to everyone. Still, he had his moments and didn´t exactly change his opinion. Because in his world people couldn´t change, they just didn´t.
And that made you sad.
Because deep down you just wanted him to acknowledge you, to tell you that you weren´t as bad as he thought, that you were a good person.
But at one point being around him just hurt. You cared too much, thought too much about him, it kept you awake at night.
If only you went out of your room into the kitchen where he would stay because of the same problem.
Especially since that day…
You were surrounded. Everywhere you looked you saw black, greedy eyes. The devils were everywhere and all hope seemed lost. You couldn´t rely on Asta only anymore, he already went through enough. He shouldn´t fight your battles for you just because he had strong powers, he was just a little boy.
And yet there he was, fighting ferociously, once again defeating the devil that came to slay everyone that day all those centuries ago.
It was hard to keep at least somewhat of an overview, everything seemed in shambles and the screams and cries of everyone were deafening.
You really shouldn´t be focusing on Nacht right now, now was not the time. Not that there ever was an appropriate time for that anyway.
But of course you just couldn´t help yourself, your eyes wandered to him frequently even as you told them to stop.
Though in this instance it might have not been that bad. Your eyes went wide as you realized what he was about to do, everything around you faded away, you felt numb and your body moved on its own to prevent him from going through with his plan.
“Please die with me” were the last things that left his lips that shut your brain off and made you move automatically. They weren´t uttered to you, Nacht didn´t even look in your direction, it was none of your business.
Even still you couldn´t just stand by idly and watch him die, watch one of the only chances you had at winning die, watch the man you hated to love die.
The little devil on his shoulder looked scared as your gaze met him and honestly, you could understand it all too well.
You were scared too but now wasn´t a time for fear, you needed to stop him at all costs.
“That´s the stupidest thing you ever said!” you screamed out as you were still running towards him.
Finally his head turned to you, he still had that infuriating smile on his lips, though it was so sad this time.
“It´s the only way…” he replied.
“You don´t know that! You can´t know that! You can´t just throw you life away like that, it won´t change anything! In fact it will… we will lose. We will lose so much more than just the fight, don´t you understand that? You´re not more or less important than the rest of us and you´re our vice captain, so it´s my duty to stop you from sacrificing yourself!” you said, grabbing his shoulders and frantically panting, you looked at him aghast, shocked, eyes wide and searching for something...anything in his eyes that wasn´t dull.
“Then we´re all going to die, but it´s so typical of you to be so selfish” he told you, his tone as entitled as always.
“You´re selfish too, you know that?” you whispered, averting your eyes.
“You can´t just run away from your responsibilities. It isn´t right” you stood your ground, balling your fists in anger and frustration.
“It´s the only way, why do you even try to stop me?” he sighed, looking at you. He was feeling quite frustrated now too, what were you trying to achieve? If he didn´t make this sacrifice so many more people would die, didn´t you care about them? Wasn´t it your job to protect everyone? So why were you trying to desperately to save him out of all people?
“Because I care. A lot. We all do. And yes it´s selfish, you´re right about that. We´re all selfish losers and assholes but you know what? We do it best and we´re goddamn proud not to be as picture perfect as all the others. That´s what defines us. And you don´t have to agree with that, but I´m fucking stubborn so don´t think for even a second that I´ll let you go through with your stupid plan!” you looked at him with such emotion, such passion, it made his heart ache with a foreign familiarity.
Nacht never paid you any more mind than he did the others, just thinking all of you were useless. That was why he was so surprised that someone would voluntarily want to save him.
He treated you like shit, sure it was more out of a defense mechanism cause he couldn´t bear leaving people behind, having people worry about him, he already had enough guilt to carry.
But hearing your words was like a revelation to him.
Maybe he still had a role to play in life, maybe his story wasn´t over yet and just maybe could he live his life without having to fulfill anything, but solely for himself and the ones he cared about.
Maybe it was finally time to start caring more than he was ready to admit, to take a step into the unknown and discover it with…
You.
It had always been you, he realized as he saw your desperate face, your hands on his shoulders, all dirty from fighting and yet feeling warmer than any fire ever could.
“Yes, maybe living might not be that bad” he tilted his head, smiling at you.
You felt an intense amount of relief wash over you as you gave him an exhausted smile back.
That was the first time you ever smiled at him, Nacht would never forget that moment, the moment in which you broke down his walls without even knowing it.
He would have to thank you later for that, when he fully comprehended what that meant.
Asta and you were training together again outside while the others were inside going on about their daily ruckus. Some were on missions already but some, like Asta, who were wounded and exhausted still needed to rest properly.
Though it was no use. Asta would never rest like he should unless he was knocked out.
And you tried that the first week, you each took turns but eventually you just couldn´t keep up anymore and let him train like he wanted.
Nacht also kept training with him, though he himself was new to everything going on and needed time to properly accommodate to things.
You stretched a bit, sitting down to just enjoy the sun for a moment.
“I can´t wait to go on missions again! I´m as good as new, I´m ready, I promise!” Asta beamed and showed off a bit but you only sighed.
“It´s not my call, kid” you apologized.
Asta pouted and kept training.
“You got a mission” Yami announced as he joined you outside and Asta practically jumped up and down with excitement and energy.
“Just the usual, rebuilding a town and fighting some magic beasts that escaped” he explained and Nacht slowly appeared behind him.
Asta´s eyes were beaming right now, he was excited to learn even more about the devil´s powers although he got quite the hang of it and even made a new friend.
Nacht smiled and waved at you, you just looked away as always and stood up to go back inside.
Nothing had changed anyway.
Until Yami stopped you in your tracks.
“If you get going now you´re gonna return by nightfall” he said and you nodded.
Asta sighed in frustration.
“I wanna go on a mission too!” he cried out.
“Not happening” all three of you said at the same time, shutting him up for a bit.
Both you and Nacht didn´t say anything as you made your way to the town in question.
Nacht because he didn´t know how to approach you and you because you thought there was no point in it, he wouldn´t think of you any differently.
And so you started your mission, once again fighting alongside each other and even though the task was dull Nacht´s presence gave you an energy that was unmatched, you just couldn´t help but smile.
When you were done you went deeper into the town to help the people rebuild it.
“Do you wanna go on a date with me?” he said out of the blue, making you turn around in confusion.
“Why would I go on a date with a guy who hates my guts?” you asked, making him sigh sadly.
“I´m sorry if I left that impression on you. I really don´t hate you… it´s quite the opposite actually” he explained.
“Did you just… I swear I never heard you apologize in all those years I´ve known you” you chuckled, not quite processing the second half of his statement.
“I never saw the point in it. All my life I always watched from afar, I always wanted to save people but you know, I´m just operating in the shadows. I´m good at spying and gaining information, saving people. Not so much making friends with them. I never saw it as my role. After all I lived my life for the kingdom and its people and not for myself. Why would I care if anyone liked me? In fact it would be the worst thing that could happen… death was always part of the job description and I was always willing to take that risk if it meant you could live longer. But now… ever since that day, I just want to live with you” he confessed, leaving you at a loss for words, so you did the only logical thing to you in this moment: hug him tightly.
“Of course I´d like to go on a date with you, Nacht. And I will keep protecting you” you smiled.
124 notes · View notes
leilabeaux · 3 years
Text
In My Sights III
Tumblr media
Masterlist | Two
Pairing: Ivar/ Fem Reader
Word Count: 3570
Warning: None? 7 years bad luck?
Summary: A meeting with two brothers from Vestfold takes Ivar off guard.
Author’s Note: Well, this part was a long time coming. That means I will have part four ready next year.
The dining room was sparsely occupied that early afternoon with women who lunch, businessmen on lunch breaks, and their quiet chatter. The Vine had long been considered a historical landmark in Kattegat and was formerly a struggling fine dining restaurant. It had only gained popularity with the upper class once Aslaug Lothbrok, a well-known Götaland socialite who was newly married and new to the city, started to make her presence there. Though it’s popularity faded over the years, it was still preferred by the old money elite. Mostly for the staff’s discretion rather than the food and ambience.
It was for that reason why the Lothbrok sons preferred the establishment for their business lunches. Extra care was also usually taken with a generous tip to the host to ensure no other guests would be seated next to their table but today it was turning out to be a waste of money as the hushed voices from their corner of the room began to grow.
Ivar drummed his fingers against the table as he brought the cup of coffee to his lips, glaring across at his three older brothers. Apparently, the idiots had forgotten the importance of discretion as they were busy bickering over why their associates called for today’s meeting. He hoped the clinking of his cup when he set it down roughly onto the saucer would disrupt their chattering but, to his annoyance, still they continued.
Leaning back in his chair, his left hand mindlessly traced the carved out dragon on his cane, last year’s birthday gift from his dear Uncle Floki, while he scrolled through the day’s news on his phone. One particular article detailed the resignation of a Mercia diplomat after the unexpected death of her eldest son, mentioning that authorities were looking for a red-headed female who was last seen with him for questioning.
Good luck finding her, Ivar thought to himself. He had given up all attempts at trying to find you or any information about you after a year upon your meeting. After coming up empty through hacked databases and facial recognitions, he concluded that you were virtually a ghost or at least knew very powerful people who worked hard to keep you hidden. All he could do was sit and wait until he heard from you again, hoping his right hand and the memories of your last tryst would keep him satisfied till then.
He felt his slacks tighten as he got lost in a memory of you trapped underneath him as he pounded into your sweet cunt. The whines of you begging him to make you come he heard in his head were interrupted when Ubbe pounded his fist on the table, causing the glassware to shake.
“For fuck’s safe, Ivar, get off your fucking phone!” His older brother harshly whispered, checking over his shoulder at the other patrons, finally aware of the scene they were making.
“And why would I do that, dear brother?” Ivar still had his eyes turned down to his phone as he sent you the link of the article and a brief message: You’re on their radar. I wonder what you’re willing to do to make sure I don’t turn you in. Throwing his phone on the table, he raised an eyebrow as he bestowed Ubbe with his undivided attention. “So I can join you fools in biting our fingernails, worrying why they called for a meeting at the last minute?”
“They” were two brothers from Vestfold, owners of a large fishing company based out of their hometown and, most recently, out of Kattegat as well. To the public eye, it was assumed that it was hard work, determination, and a wise investment from Ivar’s father that turned the once struggling business into a multi million dollar success. But the young men currently seated at the table knew that the wise investment was generous compensation throughout the years for hauling more than just fish on their boats. Whether it was guns, stolen art and, for a very brief moment in time, opiates, Halfdan and Harald provided safe transport for anything the Lothbroks were running.
“You're not the least bit worried? What if they’re wanting to pull out of our deal? The Rus are not going to be pleased if we’re not able to deliver their shipment.” Ubbe wrung his hands as he thought of the worst. He was not looking forward to telling the Rus leader of any potential delays. The man wasn’t the most level headed or understanding and honestly, he creeped him out a bit.
Hvitserk nodded his head in agreement. “They might be. Remember, they were wanting a cut of our profits the last time we met with them but Ivar thought it wasn’t a good idea…” He pursed his lips in disapproval before cutting his eyes toward the youngest Lothbrok.
If Ivar had rolled his eyes any harder, he would have given himself a headache. “They’ve been doing the same job for our family for nearly twenty years, nothing more and nothing less, and have been paid fairly for it. Maybe a little too much in my opinion but I will honor our father’s wishes. Still they have no business being greedy. If it wasn’t for the Lothbroks, they would still be hauling fish into a sinking dinghy.”
“There are probably others who are looking for a way to transport their shit and all they need is a smug asshole like Harald to offer his services.” Hvitserk swirled his drink in his glass, taking a sip before continuing. “I think we should give them at least half of what they were wanting.”
Ivar gave an aggravated sigh and was ready to shoot down what he thought was the stupidest thing to come out of his brother’s mouth.
“I don’t know, I think Ivar’s right.” Sigurd chimed in. “They should be grateful for all our father did for them, not bite the hand that feeds them.”
The other men at the table sat in silence as they stared at him in confusion. It was thought that Sigurd would rather eat a bullet than agree with anything Ivar had to say.
“I changed my mind. Give them everything they ask for.” Ivar had joked, he would never admit out loud or to himself that he appreciated his least favorite brother taking his side. Officially done with the conversation, he picked his phone back up. He held back his smile as he read the new message: Anything you want me to do, handsome. But first, you’d have to find me.
Ubbe looked up from behind his nerve-wracked hands toward the lobby and gave a sigh. “Thank gods, they’re finally here...and of course he brought his fucking girlfriend. To our illegal business lunch meeting. Great.”
Hvitserk gave a quick and quiet wolf whistle as his eyes studied the woman on Harald’s arm, from head to toe. “Is that the same one he brought to your birthday party? Didn’t she have different hair and was a bit taller?”
“How can you not tell? I thought you fucked her while cake was being served?” Sigurd questioned.
“All I remember was the back of her head, to be honest.”
Ivar couldn’t hold back the snort at Hvitserk’s comment. Whatever smart ass response that was about to come out died on his tongue as he looked up at the woman that was being led to them. This was definitely a new girlfriend because if you were the one Hvitserk had fucked in the coat check room, he was going to have one less brother.
As always you looked like perfection to him but he knew your presence, or rather your outfit, was causing a bit of a stir in the restaurant especially among the older women who were busy clutching their pearls. From the plunging neckline of the loose dark green silk shirt to the matching miniskirt with a side-slit it was tucked into, your ensemble was far from the acceptable dress code of the Vine but the host knew better than telling Ivar and his brothers that their guest would have to leave, no matter how many complaints he’d get from the other patrons.
“Can you two shut the fuck up before he hears you?” Ubbe scolded Hvitserk and Sigurd before standing up to greet their guests. Shaking Halfdan’s hand before moving onto Harald, “Gentleman, I’m glad you could finally join us.”
Halfdan gave a frustrated sigh as he unbuttoned his suit jacket and plopped himself down on an empty seat. “Believe me, it wasn’t my fault.”
“Oh come on, brother. We didn’t keep you waiting that long.” Harald slapped a hand on his shoulder before parading the young woman on his arm. “Boys, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend Veronica.”
Ivar instantly wished he had ordered something stronger than coffee. He didn’t want to believe for a moment that you would choose to be with someone like Harald but you did warn him before that he hardly knew you.
In his opinion, the Fishmonger wasn’t much to be desired. And if it was money you were after, Ivar’s funds could have kept your excessive shopping addiction quelled more than the mere pennies the other man had. He knew he could satisfy you in that way and others.
Patiently sitting back in his chair, he watched as you politely smiled while you shook hands with each of his brothers. Hvitserk was unaware how close he was to a dinner knife to his thigh after lingering a second too long while kissing the back of your hand. Fortunately, Harald had the good sense to pull you away.
Ivar balanced his weight on his cane as he stood up to introduce himself, taking a risk and gently caressing his thumb against your hand. “Lovely to meet you, Veronica.”
Although you said nothing back, he didn’t miss the small smirk that briefly graced your face letting your alleged boyfriend lead you to your seat.
“I hope you boys don’t mind her being here. I know we try to keep these meetings to ourselves but I’ve been a little busy and this beautiful thing has been missing me.” He kissed the back of your hand, causing you to giggle. “Didn’t even want to take my card and go on a shopping spree.”
“I swear you won’t even hear a peep from me.” You promised, miming zipping your lips closed while you took a seat across from Ivar. “Harry’s shop talk ends up sounding more like gibberish to me anyway!”
Ivar had to focus to not show his confusion when he heard you speak. The words coming out of your mouth sounded as if they were dipped in saccharine and nowhere near the lower sultry tone he was used to. He hoped to himself that you would stay true to your promise and remain silent.
Unfortunately, promises meant nothing to his brothers.
“So what do you do for a living, Veronica?” Sigurd asked while cutting into his beef tenderloin.
You gave him a closed smile, dabbing the corners of your mouth with your napkin as you swallowed your last bite. “Oh my goodness! Nothing as important as what you gents do! I worked in this cute little boutique over in Vestfold before Harry whisked me away!”
“Wow, you must have made a killing in commissions.” Ivar couldn’t resist this opportunity to make you sweat, if that was even possible.
He was sure that hint of confusion on your face seemed authentic to everyone else. “No? Actually, I worked hourly...”
You were cut off by an annoyed groan from Ubbe as he rubbed his face, the food on his plate was barely touched. “Harry...I mean Harald, why did you call this meeting?”
“You couldn’t wait a few more minutes until we were done eating? I’d expect mommy to have taught you some manners.” Harald sighed and tossed his napkin on the table before leaning back in his chair.
Ivar didn’t miss you curling your hand around your knife. The tension surrounding the table definitely wasn’t missed by you.
Before Ubbe could respond, Halfdan had cut into the conversation. “Look, we know the last meeting didn’t go well.”
“Actually, you shot one of our men in the head.” Hvitserk stated, staring at Harald as he made his point.
Halfdan quickly interjected, “One of our captains went rogue. Was convinced by some mysterious buyer to deliver your last load of weapons to them. Don’t worry, we took care of the problem”
The younger Lothbrok brother stayed silent while his brothers voiced out their displeasure. You took a sip from your glass, your eyes cutting back and forth to the men surrounding you.
“Oh, did you?” Ubbe questioned incredulously. “Because there shouldn’t have been a problem in the first place.”
“Yes, we did.” Harald finally broke his silence with an emphasis on every word. “The man liked a good drink...a little too much. It was unfortunately only a matter of time until he drunkenly stumbled off his boat. I’m sure the medical examiner we paid off would attest that it was accidental drowning. As for the guns, they’re on another boat with a crew we know we can trust.”
“The buyer? Do you think it was the Saxons?” Sigurd suggested to the table.
“No, they thrive on letting it be known when they screw us over. I suspect they either are or know someone close. In either our circle or yours. I just hope our actions show that we are loyal and can be trusted.” Harald regarded that last statement to Ivar, knowing his silence throughout the exchange meant he was the one he had to win over.
The young man grinned as he sat back in his seat “You know, before you got here, my brothers were saying they didn’t think you deserved any part of our profits but I personally think a five percent cut of every successful shipment is reasonable.”
A smirk slowly spread against Harald’s face. “I think that sounds very reasonable.”
----
Ivar slowly made his way to the front of the restaurant. The remainder of lunch was uneventful other than the mindless chatter of Hvitserk and Sigurd asking you 20 questions. Ubbe promptly left after taking care of the bill and with so few words.
He rolled his eyes in disgust as he watched Harald wrap his arms around you, not even trying to be modest as his hands grabbed your ass. He had to fight the urge to not cut the man’s hands off for touching something that belonged to him.
You squealed and playfully swatted his chest. You gave a quick glance at Ivar as he slowly approached. “Baby, I’ll meet you outside. I just need to touch up my lipstick real quick.”
“Okay, lovely. Don’t be too long, we have a plane waiting on us.” He pressed a quick kiss on your lips before letting you go. He walked out of the restaurant, not even noticing that Ivar was close by.
Your heels clicked on the marble floor and you peeked over your shoulder toward Ivar, giving him a small grin before you made a quick turn into the washroom.
Ivar looked around to make sure there were no eyes on him as he made his way in the same direction as you. He didn’t expect his brothers to worry too much about him. He would’ve been surprised if one of them had waited for him especially since he took his own personal town car to the restaurant.
Before he could even walk through the door, you yanked him in by his tie then pushed him against the adjacent wall. He barely had time to react when he felt your lips against his own. He wrapped his arm around your waist and groaned when your hand tugged down on his locks.
Usually you enjoyed taking your time kissing him, teasing with a soft touch of your hand at the back of his neck, savoring every small whine he made when you nipped on his bottom lip. But today was different as you rushed to deepen the kiss. Both of you knew that if you were gone too long, Harald would come hunting for you.
When you broke away from him, you looked into his eyes, stifling a soft giggle. “Hi there, handsome.” You teased, your voice finally back to normal.
“Gods, that voice you were putting on was annoying.”
“I don’t know. Harald seems okay with it.” You pushed yourself away from him, walking over to the sink and pulled out a tube of lipstick from your clutch.
Ivar stayed put against the wall, watching as you leaned over the sink to look yourself in the mirror.
He repeatedly tapped his cane on the tile, “Is he why you said no?”
“Said no to what?” You stayed focused on reapplying the red color on your lips. You couldn’t help but laugh when you looked up and saw the annoyed look Ivar was giving you.
You smooth a finger around your lips, cleaning up any smudges. “I’m not his girlfriend, Ivar. He thinks I’m the very expensive call girl he hired to keep him company over the weekend. Just your basic girlfriend experience.” You dropped the lipstick back into your clutch before closing it with a snap.
“Your client wants him taken care of?” He walked over and propped his hip against the counter next to you. “That would save me some money in the long run. One less brother to pay.”
“No…” You looked down at the porcelain instead of looking him in the eyes. “I’m just collecting information on him by any means necessary.”
“Any means necessary?” While Ivar usually admired your dedication to committing to your undercover work, he found himself not liking the idea of you following through on this one. “Y/N, please tell me there’s a target on his head.”
You quickly glanced up at him through the mirror before turning to lean against the counter. You crossed your arms in front of your chest. “At the moment, no.”
“Goddammit, Y/N” Ivar pinched the bridge of his nose. Though the thought of someone else hands over your body aggravated him, the idea of another man inside of you incited him. “Are you going to fuck him? Have you fucked him?”
“Ivar…you and your brothers were waiting for a reason. It would have been suspicious if the hooker refused to fuck him.” You stated as if that was a reasonable explanation.
“How much is your client paying you? I’ll double it—fuck it, I’ll triple it if you just walk away now.”
“No one is paying me. I’m on my boss’s orders.”
“And who do you work for again?”
“Tsk, tsk. You already know that if I told you, I’d have to kill you and I don’t want to have to mess up that pretty face. Again.” Pressing up against him, you gently brushed your thumb over the faint scar that went across his cheek. A sweet parting gift from one of your earlier encounters with him.
“Tell me what information you need and I’ll get it for you.” He leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “Just...just don’t go with him.”
You cradled his face in your hands. For a brief moment, there was a look that Ivar had seen on your face before, a mixture of pity and sadness. You shook your head then pressed a gentle kiss on his lips before you walked away from him.
“Please don’t hate me, handsome.” Through the wall length mirror ahead of him, he saw you turn to face him after pausing at the closed door. “You can be mad and you can curse at me until we’re old and grey. Shit, you could even throw another knife at me but I think it would hurt me more if you hated me.”
You waited a moment for him to say or do anything, but when all you got was silence, you walked out of the door.
Ivar took a deep inhale to try to calm the anger that was beginning to flow through his body. He turned toward the mirror, his knuckles going white as he grabbed onto the edge of the sink. No care when his cane falls to the ground with a resounding smack.
When he was younger, he had got into some trouble after he hit a classmate with a rock. The therapist his Uncle Floki took him to after the incident told him to try counting to ten whenever he saw red.
He closed his eyes, letting out an exhale at every count in his head.
On five, he could see you.
Six, Harald slowly walking up behind you.
Seven, him taking you into his arms.
Eight, his tongue sliding up your neck.
Nine, his hand trailing down to your center.
Ten, you softly moaning out Harald’s name.
Ivar screamed out in rage and punched the mirror. He didn’t even notice the pain in his fist until his breathing evened out. He straightened out his tie the best he could with the distorted reflection in front of him. Flexing his injured hand, he reached over and grabbed one of the towels laid out on the counter, wrapping his hand in it.
If Harald didn’t have a target on his head before, he fucking did now.
——
Tags: @xbellaxcarolinax @castielsangelsx @revolution-starter @momowhoo @peachyboneless @punkrocknpearls
@love-all-things-writing @peoniesandbooks5 @spotgaai2000 @walkxthexmoon @youbloodymadgenius @trip2themoon @zo3st3rmonro3
52 notes · View notes
Text
Thoughts
So, I was typing in my (digital) journal when this came to me. It is important, and I think some of you need to read it, especially the artists out there. It’s long, but please, take the time to read it at some point. Well, here you go:
One part of me just wants to stay here forever, and another part wants to be as far away as possible, in a different universe. I wish I could just enter my own time zone where some of the stuff I want to be real is real, and I could live that life as long as I’d like. I’d then want to just come back at the exact time I left. That way, I could do both. Stay in the moment and go away. Stay and have adventures. Seek shelter from the real world and enter one with more adversities but also more fun. Break the time-space continuum and teleport elsewhere entirely. Not death. Definitely not death. The universes of my dreams, my imagination. Where time stays the same, and I can live carefree. Never grow older. Never enter a boring routine just to earn green paper. I don’t want green paper to be absolutely everything in my life. I don’t want to be controlled by it. I want to be free. Free of responsibilities. Free of pressure and oppression. Maybe those worlds from books are difficult, but they are also fun. The adventures bring fun. Life is complex but also overall fun. Why is everything we want influenced by money? We are oppressed into everyday routines that cause stress and anxiety. I want to soar free, be above this. Not everything we learn comes from school. It comes from experiences, feelings, and emotions. How did Newton discover gravity? He wasn’t in a classroom, focusing on what would later bring money. No, he was outside, by an apple tree. Did Shakespeare make poems for school? No, he poured his heart and feelings in lines and stanzas. Maybe Newton studied gravity after wondering how the apple fell and hit his head. He did this from simple curiosity, though. He wanted to know how it worked. He developed a natural sense of curiosity. Many people don’t like school. Why? Some people do. Who knows, maybe those people’s interest in school burns out from stress? Maybe the flame of motivation continues from dedication to others or through determination. Still, there are so many people out there who think school isn’t necessary. Learning some of the same things over and over throughout the years. Why does it matter to us? As children, we all felt curiosity, didn’t we? Why is the sky blue? How does day become night? How does love work, and why does it happen? We want to know more. How things work, why they are the way they are. What would happen if the world turned on its head, and it didn’t work that way? We made experiments and learned from them. Attempting to talk was experimenting a language, the feel of words. So why do many people begin to hate learning? We are forced to learn what they want us to learn. They try making us who they want us to be. Who? Society. So many people are trying to ‘fix’ or change us. Who we are. Some people’s creativity just runs out after people tell them it’s not important. Maybe they tell them to become doctors, nurses, or something of the sort. Why? Money. They think people without money don’t have lives. We cut trees, and give what we make out of it to people who ‘deserve’ it more. That’s not true. Does an actor deserve more money than a loving single mother? Just because people all over the world recognize you if you were on a piece of paper and not the mother? School. Why do we go to school? Money. Yet, you need to pay in order to get an education and get paid. Why do we shut down people who want to sing, dance, or create something so that they can receive money? Well, maybe they aren’t any good at it. How did Thomas Edison make the first working light bulb? Did he think he just wasn’t good at making stuff and give up on his dream of creating something helpful? What about Einstein? They all focused on their dreams and did what they dreamed of. They were curious. Sometimes, different people are curious about different things. Yet, we all want to teach them the exact same thing. Maybe one of them likes and is interested in the way we create color and how to define beauty. Maybe the other likes English and Math class. Yet, we almost always shut down the color kid and lean towards the kid who likes math. We give the kid who likes color a big fat F because he doesn’t like Math and English and doesn’t pay attention to them. Yet, you give the other kid an A and congratulate them. Over time, the other kid shuts down his creativity, because, hey, no one appreciates it anyways. They say he won’t get anywhere with color. Now, they have to do the same thing as the other kid. They pay attention, and get an A. They congratulate him on it. Why couldn’t they congratulate him on reaching his dreams and goals instead? On growing in something he likes? His happiness? They want him to make money. Still, these are just kids, and they don’t understand why they have to do this, isn’t money just paper? Later, they’ll get it. Will they still be happy? Maybe they became an engineer. Not that they wanted to. They would rather paint, no matter how badly it looked. It was colorful. It made them happy. Why? Why does society do this? Maybe money was created in order to organize ourselves and create a system. Those that worked hard would earn more money. Right? No. Some people are born rich. Yet, the people that need it most in order to do what they wish don’t have it a lot of the time. Wouldn’t we rather be free and be creative and curious in our own ways? Why do we need money? Why is it important? What doesn’t make you happy shouldn’t be important. Those that have money but are unhappy, why don’t they do what makes them happy? Maybe it doesn’t even involve much money. We could be generous, and give it to those whose dreams require money? Those who want to go to a four-year university to become an engineer. To those that really want to become an engineer? Is our imagination really that useless? That it doesn’t deserve any credit? That’s not right. The Wright brothers were creative. How would they get the idea of a flying machine otherwise? Do we all want a boring routine? Maybe we shouldn’t be lazy, but we should do what makes us happy without being lazy. Maybe it’s art, writing, reading, drawing, sports, inventions, math, finding out the way things work, exploring, etc. It’s important to find out who we are, isn’t it? Work on it. Don’t let anyone tell you creativity is less important than math. Do what makes you happy. Creativity is important. Stay curious. Create the universes you want. Stay happy. Become happy. Be yourself. We’ve all heard these a million times, maybe we thought they were stupid. They are important. Love yourself. Dream big. Don’t let anyone tell you who you are or what you like is insignificant. It’s not. You are important. We don’t need to rely on money for a happy life. We just need to find ourselves and the people who will always be there to love and support us. Live, laugh, love. Peace.
Thanks to those who decided to hear me out.
35 notes · View notes
heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years
Text
Craving
ShinoMitsu Week 2021 Day Four: (Time Skip, Craving, Fashion) Really could be time skip too, just a small one.
A/N: Here we are, safe to read for anyone, manga reader or not! Please enjoy the rest of the week! It’s all fluff : ) Word Count: 2,056
Shinobu checked the time on her phone, noting with surprise, that it was nearly midnight. She marked her page and pushed her heavy textbook aside before stretching her arms high above her head.
Getting up from her desk with the intent of going to bed, she only just pulled back her covers when her phone buzzed in her hand. There was only one person who would be texting her this late and she could bet she knew exactly what they were texting about.
She looked down at her phone and sure enough, Mitsuri’s name shone back at her with a simple one word question surrounded by an array of puppy dog eye and heart emojis. It read, “food?”.
Shinobu was no stranger to Mitsuri’s late night cravings by now. A smile tugged at Shinobu’s lips as she typed out her reply, “Sure. Usual?”
Almost immediately Mitsuri responded with an enthusiastic, “yes!” and even more emojis. Shinobu chuckled to herself and then headed to her closet to change out of her lounge clothes.
Every once in awhile since they had started dating officially a couple months ago, Mitsuri would text or call Shinobu in the late hours of the night to join her for a midnight meal. Something about food always tasting better when sharing it with someone you love. Shinobu was happy to go wherever Mitsuri asked, whenever she asked, but the late night excursions always left her drained and grumpy in the morning. It was worth it to her though. She was just amazed at how much stamina the older girl had. Shinobu was convinced Mitsuri was superhuman, pulling all nighters seemingly without consequence.
Shinobu finished putting on her shoes and quietly exited her home in the dead of night. Kanae already knew about the habit, having teased Shinobu relentlessly after catching her coming home in the wee hours of the morning. She just asked that her sister keep her phone and pepper spray on her for protection.
Shinobu walked for a couple blocks towards the nearby shops. Many were darkened at this late hour, but a few still glowed with promises of warm food. A little further down, she spotted Mitsuri waiting on the sidewalk, a young, disheveled man appeared to be talking to her. Her guard immediately went up and she picked up her pace.
“I’m jus’ sayin’ is not safe for pretty girls t’ be out alone at nigh’. Lemme keep all the baddies away, huh? I’ll walk ya t’ my place an—“
“Back off. She’s fine.” Shinobu put a protective hand over Mitsuri’s back, the other was covering the pepper spray in her pocket. Glaring up at the greatly intoxicated man.
The man laughed in her face, making Shinobu wrinkle her nose at his foul breath. The man had no idea who he was dealing with and tried to pull Mitsuri into what he thought would be a hilarious joke.
“Aw, are you lost little girl? We can drop you off at the elementary schaAAAHH!”
Shinobu didn’t bother with the pepper spray, instead she kicked him so hard that he fell into the gutter, holding himself tightly as he squeaked a string of expletives between wheezes.
“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Shinobu said, already moving Mitsuri away from the drunken imbecile.
“Did you have to be so harsh?” Mitsuri asked, interlacing her fingers with Shinobu’s and swinging the entangled limbs between them.
“Maybe, maybe not. Maybe he’ll learn that not every girl out on the street is there for his pleasure and remember to mind his own business from now on.” Shinobu grumbled.
“He was rather insistent. Thanks for helping me, my knight.” Mitsuri leaned over to place a kiss in Shinobu’s hair, making her cheeks become a little rosy. If pressed about it, she would have blamed it on the chilly night air.
“Next time wait inside the restaurant, okay?” Shinobu asked.
“But I was so excited to see you!”
“You would see me either way.” Shinobu rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself.
They walked into the western breakfast chain restaurant. The smell of syrup and bacon warmed the girls up immediately. They were quickly seated as there were hardly any other patrons who wanted a western breakfast so late at night. However, if a bar decided to close earlier, it would almost certain to get more lively in there. For now though, it was peaceful.
They were seated at a booth in front of the window and were given their menus. Mitsuri wiggled happily in her seat as she browsed through, trying to decide what she’d like to order.
“When I first texted you I was thinking pancakes but you can never go wrong with waffles!” Mitsuri grinned. “Now if I could just figure out the right combo order...”
“If you come up with any complications let me know, I’ll be happy to coordinate with your desires.” Shinobu smiled in return, as she glanced over the menu herself.
“I love you so much.” Mitsuri declared. “I desire you above all else, you sweet and amazing girl!”
“Love you too.” Shinobu bashfully replied. She still couldn’t get over how Mitsuri could say such things so freely. She didn’t seem to realize the gravity her words carried sometimes.
They figured out what they wanted and ordered. After a bit of talk about school, then family, and what they might like to that weekend, the conversation fell to a lull and Shinobu tried to hide a yawn in her sleeve.
“You’re tired, aren’t you?” Mitsuri nudged Shinobu’s foot playfully under the table, “you could have told me you wanted to stay in.”
“I’m not that tired. I’d rather spend time with you anyway,” Shinobu nudged her back.
Mitsuri covered her blushing face in her hands and Shinobu laughed. Their food arrived shortly after and soon the only sound beside the clatter of dishes in the background and quiet chatter, was Mitsuri’s enthusiastic humming as she sampled every item on her plate, as well as Shinobu’s.
“You’re reminding me of Rengoku-sensei right now,” Shinobu laughed, clearing her throat before taking a bite of her own food. “Tasty!” She declared, though more quietly and with less enthusiasm than the teacher would have. Mitsuri quickly caught on and giggled along.
“I love Rengoku-sensei, you know he’s the volleyball coach too, right? I guess spiking wasn’t the only thing I picked up from him.”
“He should think about switching to coaching track, Tomioka is such a bore. It’s a wonder he got the job in the first place.”
“You would miss Tomioka if he left, don’t deny it.”
“Only because he’s so fun to mess with.” Shinobu clarified.
“Of course.” Mitsuri nodded, a knowing smile forming around her fork as she savored another bite of Shinobu’s meal.
By the time they finished eating their meal and a shared dessert, it was nearly one in the morning and Shinobu was definitely feeling it. It was a good thing she didn’t have early practice tomorrow because she needed every minute of sleep she could possibly get before heading to school in a couple of hours.
Mitsuri noticed Shinobu’s fatigue and insisted she hop in a taxi with her to get home. An idea that Shinobu had no issue agreeing to, the sooner she got into her bed, the better.
It was a relatively short walk to Shinobu’s, so the drive was even shorter. However, almost as soon as they had buckled in and gave the taxi driver the address, Shinobu had fallen asleep and her head lolled onto Mitsuri’s shoulder as the taxi turned onto the street.
Mitsuri simpered, containing the squee she felt bubbling in her throat so as not to disturb her very cute girlfriend’s slumber until they made it to her front door.
When the driver pulled up, she quietly thanked and paid him before gently shaking Shinobu awake.
“Shinobu-chan, we’re here. Time to get up.” Mitsuri whispered, giggling when the other girl released a grumpy grunt and burrowed deeper into her side, trying to sap up all the warmth Mitsuri had to offer. Mitsuri directed her attention back to the driver waiting patiently in the front seat.
“Sorry, this might be a little tricky.” She apologized, undoing her seatbelt and Shinobu’s before opening the door.
“Yeah, sure.” The driver nodded. There were be worse things he could be dealing with on a Thursday night.
Mitsuri propped Shinobu back up against the seat and got out of the car, crouching over so she could pull Shinobu closer to the door. Once she was close enough, she hooked her arms under the sleeping girl’s back and knees, carefully lifting her out of the car with care and ease. What she appreciated most being as strong as she was, was how easy it was to pick Shinobu up. Even if Shinobu didn’t always like it.
“Thanks again.” She nodded to the driver, getting a grunt in response. She knocked the door close with the side of her foot and made her way up Shinobu’s stoop before realizing this was actually going to be a bit harder than she anticipated.
“Hey, Shinobu, do you think you could get your key out and open the door for me?” Mitsuri asked, adjusting her hold.
Slowly, Shinobu’s eyes peeled open though just a smidge. She looked reminiscent of a grouchy, sour child and it was the cutest thing Mitsuri had ever seen.
“Put me down.” Shinobu fussed, lightly slapping Mitsuri’s arm. “Just because you can pick me up, doesn’t mean you should.”
“But you are so cute and sleepy! I couldn’t just leave you in the back of the taxi anyway.” Mitsuri said in return, though she did as Shinobu asked and set her down.
Shinobu dug around in her bag, it’s strap hung over Mitsuri’s shoulder, silently cursing every time she picked up something that wasn’t the key to her front door. Finally, with a small noise of triumph she picked up the right item and unlocked the front door.
The sleepy track runner pulled Mitsuri inside with her before locking the door snuggly behind her. Then she sat down to take off her shoes, motioning for Mitsuri to do the same.
“Come on it's late, your parents would rather you be here than out by yourself.” Shinobu said.
“Thanks, Shinobu!” Mitsuri clapped softly. She was always excited to stay the night.
“Mhm, now hurry up.” Shinobu said impatiently, already stumbling to the bathroom to brush her teeth.
Mitsuri kicked off her shoes and followed after her. She had already stayed over frequently enough that she had her own little pack of bathroom supplies in the cupboard. They brushed their teeth together before heading to Shinobu’s room to change into more comfortable clothes.
Mitsuri claimed one of Shinobu’s large and all encompassing hoodies and after shooting her parents a text about her whereabouts, she leapt into Shinobu’s futon with a satisfied giggle.
As grumpy and tired as Shinobu was, she couldn’t help but smile warmly at the endearing girl. She slipped into bed behind Mitsuri and wrapped her arm over her. The older girl hugged the arm to her chest sighing happily. Her back pressed snuggly into Shinobu’s front.
“Did you set up an alarm for school?” Mitsuri whispered.
“Regrettably, yes.” Shinobu sighed into the back of Mitsuri’s neck.
“Thanks for coming out with me tonight.” Mitsuri spoke up again after a few minutes.
“You’re welcome,” Shinobu mumbled, pressing a small kiss into Mitsuri’s skin.
“What do you want to do after school tomorrow?”
“Mitsuri I love you, but please, go to sleep.”
“But I’ve got another craving...” Mitsuri said, a mischievous little smile tugging at her lips as she left Shinobu shuffle in the covers to lean above her.
“What the hell, Mitsu? Why didn’t you say something before we left the restaurant?” Shinobu repined.
“Don’t worry, it’s something really easy that you can give me without even leaving this bed.” Mitsuri cryptically responded, craning her head back to bat her eyelashes at Shinobu.
Shinobu released an amused huff of air from her nose, immediately understanding what the other girl wanted. She leaned down and kissed Mitsuri’s honey sweet lips, nearly making her swoon.
“Good night.” Shinobu breathed once they broke apart, laying back down fully against the futon.
“Good night indeed.” Mitsuri murmured dreamily in return.
36 notes · View notes