#Restaurant Tables and Chairs for Sale | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gretavangroupie · 15 days

Text

Goldenrod

Word count: 8.1k

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Angst, Toxic Themes and Behavior, Jealousy. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Oral M!Receiving, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Unprotected Sex, Fluff.

A/N: I blame Josh Kiszka, entirely.

It’s a nice place, with tea light candles and fresh flowers on every table. Tucked away on the West side of Nashville, far from the wide eyed tourists and the flashing city lights. It’s quaint, but always busy. A reservation here would cost you. A name or your checkbook, either one will do. You wonder how he managed it, who he knows or what he does. You’d been here only once before, strings pulled and names dropped no doubt.

The hostess led you to your table, smack dab in the center of the restaurant, commanding all the eyes and attention of the patrons around you. With a curt smile you tucked into your chair and waited for your date. You weren’t really sure why you agreed to this, but after several failed attempts on your own you finally caved. Cambry is a terrible influence and you knew better than to go on a date with a man of her choosing, but here you found yourself in a swanky restaurant at a table for two.

You didn’t put too much effort into your outfit, opting for a tight black dress and a pair of gold earrings. It showed off your figure without revealing too much. It was tasteful and sexy, everything you want on a first date.

You knew nothing of the man you were meeting apart from his name. Simon. Cambry assured you that he was perfect for you, claiming how similar the two of you were and citing you had similar taste in music. So, you agreed.

You couldn’t fault him too much for being late, the traffic absolutely horrendous as you made your way through Midtown. You perused the drink menu, placing your order for a dirty martini when the waiter stopped at your table. As you sipped at the briney drink you felt a presence behind you, and you knew Simon must have arrived.

A tall man, with long dirty blonde hair stepped up to the seat across from you, lifting his hand to shake yours.

“Hi, I’m Simon. Sorry I’m late, the traffic–”

“Was terrible, I know,” you laugh, shaking his hand. “Y/N.”

He takes his seat as his eyes dart around your face taking you in. “You got a drink I see, any recommendations? I’ve never been here before.”

“I was wondering how you were able to pull a reservation so last minute,” you answer, pushing the drink menu towards him.

“Ah, called up one of my buddies, works tickets down at Nissan Stadium. Was no trouble,” he boasts as if entry level ticket sales is something to be proud of.

You smile politely and nod your head, “I got a dirty martini, they are heavy handed on the vermouth so I order gin instead of vodka.”

“Dirty, huh?” he smirks, opening the drink menu.

You offer a clipped smile, already not liking this guy too much. His frat boy vibes are a little too strong for your liking, and quite frankly is the opposite of what you have ever been into. The waiter steps up a few seconds later, noticing that your date has arrived.

“What can I get for you sir?”

“I don’t know what all this fancy shit is, do you have Bud Light?” he asks, rapping his knuckles against the table.

“Um, no sir, I believe the only beer we have on tap is Thunder Ann from Jackalope,” he offers with a pleasant smile.

“Was that English?” Simon jokes, however, it is not well received by your waiter or yourself.

“I could bring you a sample if you’d like?”

He blows out a breath of defeat, “I’ll just have what she’s having, but make mine stronger.”

You raise an eyebrow at his demand, silently kicking yourself for ever agreeing to this.

The waiter nods and heads off and a sense of dread washes over you as you realize you are about to enter into forced conversation with this stranger.

“So how do you know Cambry?” he asks, leaning back in his chair like he's at his mothers house.

You swallow down the distaste and try to answer his question, “Cambry and I work together. She is my office suitemate.”

“Oh so you work at the little music place, too?” he asks, downplaying your career to boost his own ego.

“I don’t think Sony Music Publishing is a ‘little music place’ but I guess everyone is entitled to their opinion,” you jest.

“What do you do there?” he asks, accepting his drink from the waiter. He takes far too large of a sip before you can answer, shocking the both of you.

“I’m an account executive, so I do sales, client management, data reports, that kind of thing. How about you? What do you do?” you ask, genuinely curious about what he could possibly do that he would need to belittle your career.

“Oh well, right now I am kinda just playing the corporate field so to speak. I’ve got a few sweet options in my pocket, but uh, right now I am working down at AT&T. You know that Batman looking building. It’s pretty chill,” he says in an attempt to flaunt.

“Yeah, I know it well actually. What do you do there?” you ask.

“I’m a field sales representative,” he answers, his voice dropping a little. You feel your eyes practically bulge from their sockets.

“So, you don’t like, physically work in the building,” you confirm.

“I mean, I report there at the end of the day,” he replies, trying to blow smoke.

“So if you report there at the end of the day, where do you spend your day?” you ask.

“Kind of everywhere. I do a lot of driving around. I was able to secure a deal with a new Mexican restaurant over in Hendersonville. They want full fiber and phones. Pretty sweet, might even make a commission on it,” he says pridefully.

“Wow, a commission too? They are spoiling you,” you taunt.

“Yeah, I’m about to move up, gonna put me into commercial sales. More office time and less road time,” he says, folding up his menu. Your mind is positively racing at how Cambry thought you two would be a perfect match when he couldn’t be more different than you.

“So uh, what are you thinking you want to eat?” he asks.

“I think I might do the farmhouse pasta, the sun dried tomatoes sound good,” you answer, closing your menu as well.

“Yeah I’m gonna get a steak, I bet they are good here,” he says waving over the waiter. Your face blushes red as he makes a scene to grab his attention.

“Yes sir, we are ready to order,” Simon states, opening up his menu. “I’m gonna have the Porterhouse with mushrooms well done and can you bring a side of ketchup?”

You think that if your eyes rolled any harder you could see your brain, but alas you must keep your composure and make it through this trainwreck of a date.

“For you miss?”

“Yes, could I please do the farmhouse pasta? I will also do one more dirty martini,” you smile, hoping the waiter can sense the apology in your tone.

“Great, I will be back,” he says, stepping away with the gentle nod of his head.

The evening continues on as you listen to him tell you every uninteresting fact about himself while he dips his shoe leather of a steak in ketchup. You have a hard time finding your own meal appetizing as you watch him eat, a tiny dribble of ketchup at the corner of his lips. He barely gives you a chance to speak as he relives his fraternity glory days, telling you every close call he has ever had with the police and every famous person’s door he’s knocked on since he moved here from Mississippi.

You down your drink probably a little too fast, trying to decide if you will need another to make it through the last part of this date. You know you will never speak to this man again, and you know you will be giving Cambry a firm talking to come Monday morning.

The waiter steps up to the table with the check, placing it in front of Simon who sends him a puzzled look. “Oh, actually she’s getting the check tonight.”

“Am I?” you ask, a little confused yourself. You had no problem going dutch, but to be told you were taking the entire responsibility of the bill was a bit of a shock.

“I mean, yeah, Cambry said you wanted this date, so… I figured since it was your idea, you were paying. I didn’t bring my wallet.”

You feel your mouth go dry at the audacity of his assumption. “I have no problem going dutch,” you say.

“Yeah, it’s just I didn’t bring my wallet,” he counters, shrugging his shoulders. “I can Venmo you later or something.”

You bite your tongue as you reach for your purse, knowing there is an extremely high chance that this meal will drain his checking account.

“It’s fine, I can get it. No problem,” you say, pulling your wallet from your purse. Just as you unzip it you feel someone walk up behind you, and the sight of a hand on the waiter's arm. The person leans towards the waiter, saying something quietly in his ear as he slips a silver metal credit card into his hand.

As you look up you recognize the mass of curls and the crisp white linen. The smell of his cologne forever ingrained in your memory. Your eyes flash over to Simon who is just as confused as you are, watching the interaction. A few more words are spoken between the waiter and the man you now know is Josh. Your ex.

The waiter scurries off with Josh’s card just as he turns to face you with a shit eating grin. He then casts a lethal glance to Simon, who at this point is looking rather small.

“Don’t you know it's distasteful to make your date pay?” he asks, venom in his voice.

“And you are?” Simon snaps.

“Well, from my place at the bar I thought I was the competition, but now I’m fairly positive that is not the case. My name is Josh, and I would ask yours but quite frankly I don’t care to know.”

“Josh!” you yelp.

“What darling, you can’t deny the facts. I’ve been sitting at the bar since you arrived. Was quite the unexpected show, I must admit,” he pauses, “If I’ve misjudged your evening, which, I’m sure I haven’t based on your body language alone, please do feel free to correct me.”

“We’re actually on a date, man,” Simon speaks up, taking you and Josh both by surprise as you turn to stare at him.

Josh just snickers, shaking his head before turning to you. “Have you had enough, sweets?”

“What do you want, Joshua?” you ask, a little annoyed at his brazenness.

He cups your chin with his thumb and forefinger as he gives you a knowing look, “Is this what you want? You want me to go?”

You push his hand away and cross your arms over your chest, refusing to answer his question.

“Fuck this,” Simon spouts, pushing away from the table and storming out of the restaurant.

Josh quickly takes his seat, sitting across from you as he folds his hands on the table. “You’re welcome,” he taunts, accepting the check book back from the waiter.

“A pleasure Mr. Kiszka,” he nods, walking away.

“Mr. Kiszka? They know you by name here?” you groan, watching a sideways grin pull across his full lips. His eyes glance down to the plate of half eaten food in front of him.

“A well done steak with ketchup? My, my, darling have your standards dipped that low?” he asks, signing the receipt and closing the book. You roll your eyes and reach for your martini glass, however his hand snakes out to grab it first, tossing the rest of it back.

“What the hell,” you growl.

“You dumped me for a broke asshole?” he asks, sitting back in the chair.

“He might have been broke, but I bet he could fuck me more than once every three months,” you snap, pulling ammo from your failed past.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, “Now, now, retract the claws sweetness, be my good girl, yeah?”

“I’m not your anything, Josh, and I don’t know what you think is about to happen here, but I can promise you it’s not.”

He stabs at the olive in the martini glass, popping it between his lips. “You sure about that?”

“You completely derailed my date,” you bark.

“Oh, please Y/N. You were ready to go the moment he introduced himself, late, might I add. You were entirely repulsed through dinner, and you couldn't get a word in edgewise. It may have been a year or so since we called it quits, but I still know you like the back of my hand, darling.”

“You don’t know me like that anymore, Josh.”

He chews the olive as a hum rings through his chest, “Is that why your thighs are clenched together under the table right now, for the first time tonight? Why you can’t seem to sit still, squirming everytime I look at you? The pretty pink blush on your cheeks that happened to appear as soon as I stole his seat? Because I just don’t know you anymore?”

You shake your head and look away, pushing him out of your mind.

“Look at me, Y/N,” he demands, and instinctually you turn your head. “Own it.”

You meet his eyes and huff out an annoyed breath. “You can’t just walk up to me and think we are going to pick up where we left off. I left you for a reason, Josh.”

“Are you ready to go now that you’ve said your piece?” he asks, pushing his chair away from the table.

“I drove myself here, and I’ll drive myself home,” you quip.

“After two martinis, I don’t think so, sweetness. I’ll send for your car in the morning,” he insists.

“Send for my car? What are you, the Pope?”

“Only the one time if you remember correctly,” he jokes, offering his hand to help you stand from your chair. You take it begrudgingly, grabbing your purse and smoothing out your dress.

“Stunning as usual, love. You know I love that silhouette on you,” he says, ushering the two of you out the door and into the parking lot. He drives a different car now, which is probably why you didn't recognize it in the lot when you arrived.

“It wasn’t for you,” you gripe.

“But it was for him? Mister can’t even split the check?” he counters.

“Again, he may not be made of money, but he at least listened the few times I was able to get a word in,” you snap.

Josh sucks his teeth as he opens the passenger door, helping you climb inside. It’s spacious and smells of new leather. A string of beads hangs from the rearview mirror and a tiny crystal lays haphazardly in the center console. He joins you seconds later, starting the car and backing out of the parking space.

“Where are you taking me?” you question, although you’re fairly certain you know the answer.

“Home,” he snickers, taking a right out of the parking lot.

“You don’t know where I live, I moved,” you say, shifting your body in the seat.

“No, no. I said, I am taking you home.”

“What if I don’t want to go?” you ask, fully lying to yourself and to him and he knows it.

“I did always like it when you played hard to get,” he smiles, moving his hand to rest on your bare leg. “But your body gives you away everytime.”

“Where’d you find him?” he asks, letting his eyes flick over to yours for just a second.

“Cambry,” you answer, a twinge of defeat in your voice.

“Cambry? Come on, baby, you know she has the worst taste in men,” he groans, merging onto the freeway with ease.

“I didn’t really have a choice, and she oversold him, clearly,” you answer.

“So you’re still at Sony, then?”

“I am, though I’ve been considering a career change, maybe even a city change,” you lie.

“Had enough of Nashville?” he jests.

“The people that reside here,” you taunt.

“Fair enough,” he concedes.

His fingers trace circles into your skin, lighting little fires with every pass. “You stopped answering my calls,” he trails off.

“That is typical of a break up Josh…”

“Baby–”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap.

“What can I call you?” he asks.

“Nothing, you can take me home and send my car in the morning,” you answer.

His grip on your leg tightens, his thumb passing over your knee. You feel warm beneath his touch, a calmness washing over you. This is always how he got you.

“It was one fight, Y/N! I know I fucked up, but–” he shouts, losing his calm and cool composure for a millisecond.

“Josh…” you whine, not wanting to hash this out again.

As you pull up to a red light he turns to look at you, moving his hand from your leg and grabbing your hand instead.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. Just– come over for a little bit. Let’s talk. Catch up a little. Don’t let your night be a complete loss, you look too pretty. Let me appreciate you,” he says, squeezing your hand.

Your eyes meet his, sparkling and encased by his thick lashes. “Okay,” you murmur.

“Yeah?”

You roll your eyes and nod your head, “Yes, fine. Just to catch up.”

The light changes and you swear he did twenty over the speed limit the rest of the way to his house. He has a smirk on his lips that he can’t seem to shake, and his hand hasn't left yours.

“Why were you at the bar alone?” you ask, the gin making you feel a little more brave than usual.

“I like the food, and they make my drink the right way. You know I don’t like going into the city, too many people, and the guys were all busy tonight. I think I was right where I needed to be though. Got you out of that shitty date,” he laughs.

“It was pretty shitty,” you agree, flashing him a smile.

“Missed that,” he says, turning into his driveway. “That smile. Lights up a room.”

“Stop,” you say, playfully pushing his shoulder. “Don’t suck up now after you were all bossy and demanding at the restaurant.”

“Worked though,” he grins, shrugging his shoulders and shutting off the car.

“Did it?”

“You’re here…” he says, tipping his chin.

“To talk. To catch up,” you counter.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” he says, helping you out of the car and shutting the door behind you. He guides you up to the front door with his hand on the small of your back, shoving his key into the lock and opening the door.

You’re instantly transported back in time. A time when this was your safe place, when this was your landing pad of comfort. A home you shared together. Warm and welcoming. Until, it wasn’t. It was a big empty house with nothing but the echo of your own voice for months on end. The place you would listen to your calls ring out with no answer and texts would sit on delivered for days.

It was hard to leave him, your personal ray of light. The good times were the greatest, and the bad times were worse than the worst. You met your breaking point and all you could think of was starting over. Living a normal life with a normal job and a normal relationship.

You’d grown a little since that day, finding yourself and establishing your own roots in the city. You cut off contact completely. Josh never gave up though. He was persistent, you’d give him that. He tried to reconcile things, promised to fix it, promised to do better, but after so many failed attempts, you couldn’t do it anymore. You needed to see this through, for yourself.

It took almost a year but he did stop calling. Stopped checking in. Your heart ached for him. You wondered if you’d made a mistake. You knew you never really stopped loving him. How could you stop loving someone like him? He took your heart and cast it in gold, giving a piece of himself to you to carry when he was away, but still it wasn’t enough. You needed more than he could give you then.

“You redecorated,” you ponder.

“A bit. Just some new furniture, art and things I picked up on the road,” he says, tossing his keys on the table. “You like it?”

You nod your head, “Yeah, I do. It feels very… you.” you pause, “It feels warm.”

He walks into the kitchen, pulling two lowball glasses from the cabinet before reaching for the tequila on top of the fridge. He holds the bottle up towards you in question and you nod your head, knowing you aren’t leaving tonight.

He pours the tequila into the glasses, topping them with sparkling water and a handful of ice as you walk over to join him. He slides the glass to you and holds his up to tap against yours.

“Glad you’re here, baby,” he breathes.

“Josh…”

“Sorry, old habit,” he blushes, taking a sip of his drink.

You join him, taking a long pull from the glass letting the bubbles slip down your throat. He made it perfect, just how you like it.

“Shall we?” he asks, pushing off the counter top and making his way into the living room. You follow behind him taking the seat next to him on the couch. You settle into the leather cushions as he shoots up again.

“Wait, hold on,” he says, walking across the room. He struts across the wood floors carrying himself in a way much different than you have ever seen him. He looks confident and seems to be floating. He grabs a small remote and turns down the lights, casting the room in a much dimmer light.

“Do you always walk around like that?” you ask, sipping from the rim of your glass.

“Like what?” he asks, returning to his place next to you.

“Like…like you’re made of gold,” you giggle, letting the tequila warm your blood.

“What if I am?” he challenges.

“What, made of gold?”

“Mhmm,” he hums.

“Kinda seems like it sometimes,” you confess.

“Yeah?”

“You kinda glow,” you answer.

“Optical illusion, sweets,” he grins.

“I don’t know, you’ve always kinda been that way. Glowy…” you offer, feeling a little hazy.

“You flirting with me now?” he asks, his lips turning up into a grin.

“No,” you growl, “Can I not give you a compliment?”

“Absolutely. Please do continue, I’m quite enjoying it,” he laughs, throwing his arm across the back of the couch. His fingertips brush your shoulder and you shudder at the contact.

“Has it been that long, darling?”

“What?” you question, turning to meet his eyes. His fingers graze against your skin again, goosebumps rising to the surface.

“Oh, say it isn’t so, baby. Break my heart,” he whines.

“What, Josh?”

“You’re touch starved aren’t you sweetness,” he says, his eyes searching yours.

“No, I’m fine,” you lie. You look away, knowing he was always able to read you like a book.

“Look at me, Y/N,” he snaps. You turn your head and meet his eyes again. “Don’t lie to me again. You know that never went well for you.”

You bite your lips together as your cheeks grow red hot. Part of you wants to push him a little more, force him to make good on his threat. The other part of you knows you should leave before he sucks you in.

“Tell me how long,” he says, resting his hand on the curve of your neck.

You blow out a breath and shake your head, “It’s not important,” you answer.

“Is to me, always important to me,” he urges.

“Why do you want to know?”

“I want to know that you were being taken care of,” he pauses, “I don’t think that’s a crime.”

“It’s been… a minute,” you confess.

“Baby,” he breathes.

“It’s fine, Josh. Really.”

“It’s not,” he snaps. “How long, love? You can tell me. It’s just me.”

“God! Since we split! Okay?! Is that what you want to hear?! That I haven’t fucked anyone since you?!” you shout, burying your head in your hands. You feel his hand rest on your back, warm and firm.

“Oh, my love. No wonder you’re so feisty. Wound up tighter than a two dollar watch. My girl needs a little relief, doesn’t she,” he asks.

You turn your head in your hands to look at him, his face serious and dripping with lust. You push yourself up off of the couch, pacing around the living room.

“I don’t want your pity, Josh.”

“It’s not pity darling, you’d know if it was,” he retorts.

“Well whatever it is, I don’t want it,” you snap.

He blows out a deep breath and clears his throat, “I’ve had just about enough of your mouth tonight,” he growls. “Why don’t you come back over here and try again, yeah?”

You stare at him from across the room, arms crossed over your chest in an effort to conceal your nipples that have grown hard just from the demanding quality of his voice.

“You can drop the act, I know you want me just as bad as I want you. If you want me to beg, crawl on my hands and knees for you, you know I’ll do it, but I think your body is begging for me harder than I ever could.”

You roll your eyes, and look away.

“Am I wrong? Tell me I’m wrong.”

You huff out a breath, “No,” you whisper.

“What’s that?”

“I said no,” you answer.

A smirk pulls across his lips, “No, what?”

You feel your chest grow warm and you swallow thickly, “No, sir.”

He clicks his tongue, “Don’t call me sir, that's my brother. Try again, love.”

“No, baby,” you breathe.

“That’s better. Much better. Come back over here,” he says, motioning you over with two fingers.

He reaches for your hand as you approach him, pulling you down onto his lap. Your legs fall to either side of his hips as you straddle him, the position feeling familiar and comforting.

“There’s my girl,” he growls, leaning forward to place his drink on the coffee table. His hands move to grip at your hips, holding you in place as he sinks a little further beneath you. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t enjoying this, feeling his hands on you and the evidence of his want as it grew beneath you.

“Not yours, Josh,” you say, letting your hands land on his chest.

“Liar,” he breathes, rolling his hips into you, eliciting a whine from your chest. You hear him laugh, “Your body says otherwise.”

“My body has never been able to say no to you,” you admit.

“And that's what I love about it, baby. Mine even when you aren’t.”

A sigh falls from your lips as his thumb drags over your lips, “Kiss me, Josh,” you beg.

A grin pulls across his lips as he pulls you by the back of your neck towards him. His soft, warm lips brush yours just slightly, enough to pull a whine from your chest.

“Now who’s begging?” he murmurs. Your eyes meet his, dark and lust filled before he crashes his lips to yours. His hands grip at your head as if he’s afraid you might fly away, his fingers twisting into your hair.

His tongue slides against yours, the taste of him so sweet and familiar. There would never be anyone that tasted better, you were sure of it. His hands slid down your face and over your shoulders, reaching for your hands as they sat on his chest. He wrapped his hands around yours, linking his fingers with yours the best he could, just holding you in a way you’ve desperately missed over the last year without him.

“Josh…” you breathe.

His lips break away from yours, his cheeks pink and his lips glossy, “Yeah, baby?”

You hesitate asking your question, momentarily debating whether you truly want to know or not, but you know if this night is going to continue, you have to know.

“How long…” you pause, “How long for you?” It comes out breathless, his warm hands in yours as his lips hover over yours.

He pulls back a touch, licking his lips and swallowing harshly, “A month or two,” he answers honestly.

Your traitorous eyes fill with tears and you do your best to blink them away. You drop your head in an effort to conceal your emotions, knowing this is all entirely your fault to begin with. His hand releases yours and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“They were never you. Not a single one of them could ever be you.”

You nod your head and swallow the lump in your throat, “Then why?”

“It’s been a year, baby. I never thought I’d have you again,” he confesses.

“But you want me?” you ask, just wanting to hear him say it.

“Is that not clear? Of course I want you. I never stopped wanting you. You stopped wanting me.”

You shake your head, “I didn’t. I swear I didn’t, I just– It was too hard, I couldn’t do it anymore. It hurt too much.”

He grabs your face in his hands again, holding eye contact with you. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I know I messed up. I’ve thought of it every single day since you left. I’m so sorry.”

You can see it in his eyes that he means it this time. The urgency in his voice and the trembling of his hands against your face prove it. You decide at that moment to cast the memories of the past to the wind and fall headfirst into him, the way you’ve dreamt of for months.

You press your lips to his, smiling, “Tequila always did make you all mushy, baby.”

A smile pulls across his lips as he stands from the couch, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he makes his way to the stairs. His lips connect to your jaw, peppering kisses up and down your neck with every step he takes.

It’s seconds before you’re tossed onto the bed. The bed you’ve missed so terribly. The bed that smells of him and his linen sheets. You melt into the comforter, your body relaxing almost immediately. Your eyes close and all you can hear is the shedding of clothes across the room, and the tinkling of beads as Josh places his necklace on the dresser.

You feel his hand as it comes to rest on your foot, sliding up the length of your body and stopping just as it reaches the hem of your dress. You sit up on your elbows to look at him, standing at the end of the bed in his boxers.

His gaze is fixed upon you, devouring your every inch.

“Joshy?” you breathe.

He drops his head for a second before looking back at you, “God I haven’t heard that in so long,” he whines. “What sweetness?”

“Come lay down with me,” you ask.

He licks his lips and crawls onto the bed, laying down next to you and resting his hand on your hip. “Hi beautiful.”

“Hi baby,” you whisper, rolling towards him. You lay your head on his shoulder, listening to his heart as it pounds erratically in his chest.

“I missed this bed,” you whisper against his skin.

“I missed you in this bed,” he pauses, “Terribly lonely without you.”

“Not too lonely it sounds like,” you tease, sitting up and stepping off of the bed.

“Baby, I–”

“I’m kidding, Josh. I don’t mind. Well, not completely anyway.”

You pull the zipper on the back of your dress, letting it fall to the floor and instinctively kicking it to the chair at the side of the bed like you'd done a thousand times before.

“So you care a little?” he smirks, taking in the sight of your matching lingerie. “Jesus, was that for him?”

“If all went well,” you answer cheekily, crawling back onto the bed.

“Over my dead body,” he growls, grabbing your arm and pulling you to lay on top of him.

“It was for me. I needed a little confidence boost.”

“Baby, what? Why? You were always so confident and cool,” he asks, furrowing his brow.

“Not lately… A few failed dates will do that to you I guess,” you admit.

“No, no no no no. Don’t let a few pricks dull your glow, sweetness. You’re everything. They’d be lucky to have you.”

You push up off of him, crawling backwards down the bed as you place a few errant kisses across his stomach. Your eyes never leave his as you stop above his waistband, sliding your nails against the elastic.

“What if I never wanted them,” you ask.

He sucks in a breath as your finger dips beneath the band, slightly tugging at the fabric.

“What do you want?” he asks, his eyes searching yours.

You pull his boxers over his hips watching his cock spring free to slap against his groin. You take him in your hand, watching as his face twists up in pleasure.

“Tell me,” he growls through gritted teeth.

Instead of answering him you let your tongue lick a hot stripe from his base to his tip, tasting the bitter sweetness of his precum on your tongue. His core tightens as you take him into your mouth, swirling your tongue against his length, feeling every vein and the rapid pulse pounding through him.

His hand finds the side of your face, tucking your hair behind your ear as he watches you take him down so easily, remembering exactly how he likes it. You grip his base as you work him, hollowing your cheeks as you eyes meet his. His lips are parted, a heavy breath leaving his chest as his grip on your hair tightens. You take him farther, swallowing around his tip as he nudges the back of your throat, sending him spiraling in his own bliss.

“Fuck, baby, please…” he begs.

You pop off of him, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his length. “Please what?”

“Please let me fuck you,” he asnwers, panting as he desperately awaits your mouths return to him.

“I’m kind of enjoying myself here,” you tease, taking him into your throat again.

“Fucking hell, you’re so goddamn sexy. I fucking– I–” he stammers, groaning as you swallow around him again.

“You think of this, baby? You miss sucking my cock? My good fucking girl,” he asks, jerking his hips up off of the bed. “You think of me like I think of you?”

You groan as your tongue swirls at his tip, letting your eyes meet his.

“Answer me,” he demands.

You pull off of him quickly, a spit covered mess, “Yes, yes baby,” you whine.

“Missed your mouth, your perfect fucking mouth. Your lips, your tongue, everything,” he growls, a moan leaving his chest as you suction your mouth around him. “Pull off baby, not yet. Not ready yet.”

You do as you're told, pulling off of him and wiping your lips on the back of your hand. He grabs your chin and pulls you toward him, his wet cock laying against your panties. His lips meet yours, swollen and pink and still glistening with your spit. He’s desperate to taste you, to devour you completely. You feel his hands slide over your waist and up to your bra, unclasping the hooks and pulling the straps from your arms. He pulls it from between you in one move, before turning you to your back to take in the sight of you.

His eyes practically bulge from his head as he looks at you. “You– You pierced your nipples? When did you? Wha– Fucking Christ.”

A smile spreads across your face. It's not very often you can catch Josh off guard like this, so you’re taking this small victory.

“About seven months ago, on a whim,” you answer.

“Anything else I should know about before I have a stroke?” he laughs.

“Why don’t you just find out?” you say playfully, just wanting to see his reaction.

He pulls the elastic of your panties over your hips, tossing the lacy garment to the floor. His tongue darts out over his lips as he looks at you, as if deciding where he wants to start. Though, you knew Josh, and he would forever be a victim to his own fascination with shiny objects.

His lips wrap around your nipple, his tongue gently flicking over the golden barbell. You lace your fingers into his curls, scratching at his roots as his teeth graze the sensitive bud in his mouth.

“Josh,” you whine, arching your back beneath him.

“Mhmm,” he whines, not letting his lips detach from you.

“Missed your touch,” you answer.

He pulls off of your right breast and kisses his way to your left, treating your left nipple with the same reverence as the previous. You grab his hand and pull his fingers to your lips, sucking his first two digits into your mouth and letting your tongue twist against them.

You hear him groan against you, the sensation becoming a little too overwhelming for him.

“You okay, baby?”

He pulls off of you, still staring down at the shiny gold bars adorning your nipples.

“No, fuck no, I’m never gonna stop thinking about these,” he says through a pant.

A laugh bubbles up from your chest as his hand meets your chest, sliding down your stomach and stopping at your hip.

“You gonna let me in, sweetness?” he asks, biting at his bottom lip.

A smirk pulls at your lips as you look at him, nodding gently. His hand slides down further, his fingers dusting across your folds. Your body quivers at his gentle touch, a small grin of satisfaction on his lips.

“You want it?”

“Stop teasing, Josh,” you whine.

“I’m sorry, baby. I know you need it. I’ll give you what you want. You know that, right?”

You nod furiously, just wanting him to touch you. Needing it more than anything. “Yes, yes, I know. Please…”

He bends forward and presses a kiss to your stomach, two fingers sinking into your wetness. You jerk towards him as his fingertips press to your clit, a whine escaping your lips before you can stop it. He hums as his fingers start to circle through your wetness, his lip bitten firmly between his teeth. His eyes are dark as they stare into yours, watching your every move and memorizing every expression.

“You feel so good, baby. Missed this so bad,” he breathes, teasing your entrance.

“You could have had anyone,” you whisper.

“I didn’t want anyone. Just you.”

His fingers dip into you, finding the place they once knew so well. Your hand moves to rest on his bicep, stronger now than they once were, the muscle rounded and defined. In fact, all of him is that way. Lean and fit, stronger and more chiseled. The thought alone makes you clench around his fingers.

“Yeah?”

“You feel so– so different. Stronger,” you say.

“Needed something to fill the time,” he smiles, curling his fingers inside of you. You cry out in bliss as your stomach starts to tighten.

“So good, baby,” you cry.

“Yeah, you gonna come for me? You gonna come right on my fingers, so needy and sweet,” he urges. His fingers are moving rapidly, working you toward your release better than you could have imagined.

“Ease into it, baby. Don’t rush it. I’m right here, not going anywhere. I’m yours,” he says, his voice soft and comforting.

Your eyes meet his, desperate and lust filled, “Mine?”

He nods his head quickly, “Yours,” he pauses, “If you want, I just– I’m here, okay? Take your time, feel it. Breathe it in, savor it. I’m here.”

“I want it,” you plead.

“Have it, have me,” he breathes.

His fingers move at a relentless pace, fingertips massaging into you with such precision it’s like a year never passed. Your chest grows hot and your stomach tightens as his eyes meet yours, both of you knowing you’re on the edge of release.

“Do it. Take it baby,” he growls.

“Josh,” you whine, reaching for his hand and twisting your fingers with his. His grip is tight on you, grounding you the way you need him to.

With another flick of his thumb across your clit, you’re sent spiraling into your release. You’d never been able to replicate the way it feels when it's by his hand, and you were sure no other man could. His hand slows as your eyes open, finding his full of desire as they stare back at you.

He grins as he presses a kiss to your mound, slowly pulling his fingers from inside you. Your body is shaking with adrenaline, the want for him coursing through you like never before. You need him. You need him now.

“Josh, now,” you pant, your chest still heaving as you catch your breath.

He doesn’t hesitate. There are no witty remarks, no jokes, no playful banter at all. Just the need the two of you share for each other taking center stage. He pushes up and crawls up towards you, falling into the space between your legs. He pushes them further apart with his knees, fisting at his base as he stares at you. You swear you can see his heart pounding in his chest, and you know he needs this as badly as you do.

He lowers himself down to you, brushing his tip through your folds. Your hands come up to his face, cradling his cheeks as you press your lips to his. It's different this time, a little less desperate, more intentional. He lets himself slowly sink inside of you as his lips dance with yours, filling you so fully and so completely, the way he always had.

He bottoms out inside of you, sliding his arm beneath your hips to pull you in close. His eyes meet yours in question and you nod, letting him know you need more. He begins to slowly move his hips, rolling into you at a fairly gentle pace, soaking in every inch of you and savoring every sound that falls from your lips.

Your hands wrap around his waist, pulling him in tighter, desperate for all of him. He groans as your chest presses against his, the coolness of the metal bars against his warm, dewy skin pulling a groan from his chest.

“Baby,” he whines, snapping his hips into you a little harder.

“Josh,” you answer, more of a moan.

“I need this,” he says, moving his hand to cradle your jaw. “I need you.”

“I know, baby,” you cry out, “I know. I need you, too. I fucking need you.”

He groans as he drops his head, letting his lips connect with your neck. His hot tongue slides against your skin before he sucks the skin into a fresh pink bite. His pace quickens, his skin slick with sweat as he pounds into you.

“Tell me that you think someone could fuck you better than this,” he growls.

“Fuck, no. No one. No one but you, Josh. I only want you,” you answer, gripping your fingers into his ass.

His demeanor changes, he’s grown animalistic, grunts and groans falling from his lips as he nears the peak of his release.

“Tell me that you don’t love me anymore,” he demands.

“Josh, I–”

“Say it,” he barks.

“I do! I do love you! You know I still fucking love you!” you cry, feeling the coil tighten in your groin.

A cry falls from his chest, echoing around the room as his lips crash to yours. It's rough and desperate, and you know you just told him everything he’s been waiting to hear.

“I fucking love you, Y/N,” he pants, “Don’t you ever fucking leave me again.”

You nod your head desperately, needing to feel his lips on yours again. His strokes start to quicken, hitting you long and deep as you both teeter on the edge of your orgasm. The wet sounds dancing through the air are deafening, and the heat of his breath on your face has you dizzy.

“Josh, baby,” you whine, knowing you won't last much longer.

“Yeah? Yeah you gonna come again? Bloom like a pretty flower just for me?” he urges, knowing the sound of his voice will push you over the edge. He nods his head, and bites his bottom lip as he watches you, squirming and panting beneath him as his cock hits you right where it belongs.

“Come on sweetness, be my pretty flower, come for me,” he whispers against your lips.

His hand cups at your breast as his fingers brush your piercing, letting his thumb and forefinger pinch at your nipple. The sensation is enough to bring you to the brink, letting you dive headfirst into your release. You cry out beneath him, his name falling from your lips in succession.

“Just like that, my love. I’m here, I’ve got you,” he says, pulling you closer to him as his hips continue to work you through it. “I’m there sweetheart, tell me where.”

“You know where, I’m yours,” you plead.

He snaps his hips into you again, holding you in place as he spills inside of you, the most beautiful noises falling from his lips. He comes down, loosening his grip on your hips as he falls slack on top of you. Your arms wrap around him, your hand drifting up into his sweaty curls as he catches his breath.

“I mean it,” he breathes, “I do love you.” He props his head up on your chest, letting his eyes meet yours.

“You know I love you, Josh.”

He cranes his neck forward and kisses you again, and you can almost feel the smile on his lips. “Does this mean you’ll come home? Let me love you again?”

“Is that you asking me?” you tease.

“I’ll call the movers right now,” he taunts.

“You forgive me for leaving you in the first place?” you ask, a hint of nervousness in your voice.

“I deserved it. I know what I lost.”

“I keep my apartment,” you counter.

“But you’ll be with me when I’m here?” he asks with questioning eyes.

“If that’s what you want,” you answer.

“No more dates with assholes who don’t deserve you?” he smirks.

“No more dates, just you,” you nod.

“I’ll do it right this time, give you everything. I promise.”

His lips press to yours, soft and sweet and barely there, sealing his promise and setting your heart aflame. He rolls off of you, laying next to you as close as he can get.

“You said I’m your flower,” you pause, “What kind?”

He pulls you into his side, hitching your leg up over his waist. “Hmm, a poppy perhaps? A bright red one, maybe orange.”

You giggle at the fact he has picked such an outlandish flower. “Why’s that?”

He turns his head to look at you and raises his eyebrow playfully, “The seeds are an opiate and can provide intense pleasure to the consumer, and you, my sweets, are certainly a drug to me.”

You roll your eyes and shove at his chest, feeling him pull you in tighter. He kisses your head and lets out a sigh.

“What about me, am I a flower, darling?”

“Of course you are,” you pause, looking at him. “Too easy, you’re Goldenrod.”

“Isn’t that a weed?” he laughs, running his fingertips against your bare thigh.

“Technically, but it’s beautiful. It’s wild and free and vibrant. Thrives in the warm sunshine and sways in the breeze. They’re made of gold, just like you,” you smile, flashing him a wink.

“Although, it is poisonous,” you add.

He rolls to face you completely, cupping your face in his hand as he smiles, “You know what they say…”

“What’s that,” you question.

“The worst poison always tastes the sweetest.”

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 3 months

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If you look at the trademark application for American Riviera Orchard, you’ll see that she’s trademarking it through a newly registered in Delaware company called Mama Knows Best, LLC.

Infact when you dig into the domain names etc, it seems this was thrown together last minute aka 2months ago after KC3/ PssoW C’s illnesses were announced. They are using PR to pretend they were working on it for an entire year, but even Scobie said they had nothing or whatever they had was all over the shop and he had no idea what it would be.

His comments don’t speak to a focused vision that is researched into whatever this is.

And what’s glaring about this launch is the lack of anything to sell. Not videos or actual products which speaks to the theory that this wax thrown together very quickly.

Russell Myers from the Mirror says if you sign up to the website, you get a respinse telling you that you’ll be notified of products when they are created/ available……if this was a year in the making and with proper marketing/ PR people, they’d have products ready to go. What it is right now is a landing/ holding page ( comments turned off on IG) until it produces products.

It’s also interesting that the video is showcasing cooking which Markle tried to manifest for years while dating Corey. She auditioned and or popped up on varioys cooking shows/ fashion segments hoping to be hired. Acvording to people magazine, this launch of a lifestyle brand will have a companion show on Netflix. If Network tv won’t hire her for dream job then she’ll use her distribution deal to make it happen aka pay herself to make it happen!!!

However, one thing she revealed which tells me she has no clue about aspirational lifestyles/ branding. Her home kitchen hasn’t been updated from the dated 2000s/ early 2010s decor. It’s tye same kitchen from the sales brochure.

Infact, glimpses of their home show a distinct lack of updating from the sales brochure. The onpy room thry updated is the one with the dining table as desk and their two side by side chairs. They removed all furniture and painted it white and addedva jute rug and that california bear poster over the fireplace.

The current trend in kitchens for the wealthy is marble counter-tops and sleek designs meanwhile she’s displaying faux country/ italianate kitchen from the 90s.

The women she is cosplaying eg GOOP, Martha and Ina Garten have upgraded to the current trend in kitchens. GOOP showed off her new kitchedn in AD. Heck, JLO is showing off her sleek kitchen.

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

That they haven’t updated their house to their taste is what I laugh about the most. Are they really that cash-poor? Do they really have that much debt that they can’t afford to redo anything? Surely Markus and Soho House can cough up a few million to keep her happy, and when the Sussexes default on the loans, they can make Soho Olive Garden, a Californian spinoff of Soho Farmhouse. Win-win, if you ask me.

meanwhile she’s displaying faux country/ italianate kitchen from the 90s. ➡️ Remember, Meghan’s whole aesthetic is 90s. Of course she wants the Italian Country kitchen.

And thanks, anon. You’ve just reminded me of a house I looked at when I was moving back in 2022. The homeowners were so into that Italian Country Kitchen theme that they PAINTED the entire kitchen like it was a rustic Italian restaurant. You know you go into a family-owned Italian mom-and-pop place (not a chain like Olive Garden or Maggianos, but something like your neighborhood Italian pizza place) and it’s got that orangey-beige sponge paint that’s supposed to mimic sandstone and there’s a huge wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling mural of Italy and dusty fake vines hanging from decorative columns? Yeah, that was how this kitchen was painted. Even the cabinets. And that was not even the weirdest house I looked at by a mile.)

#submission #ask #sussexes #roop

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narcissisticmf · 1 year

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the beach | sturniolo triplets x gn!reader

description: a day at the beach ft. y/n & the triplets.

trigger warnings: mostly fluff, subtle mentions of anxiety, etc. read at your own risk.

word count: 1.1k

The sun kissed the light waves upon the salty water as well as the glistening sand, it sparkled with the reflection from the sun's rays. You sitting against a beach chair under an umbrella, a bucket hat over your hair and sunglasses over your eyes.

Sweat dripped down along the bridge of your nose, causing the sunglasses to slip down. You found yourself constantly pushing them back up as you had an opened book in your lap, earbuds were stuck in your ears as the audiobook played; it motivated you more to keep reading.

Matt and Chris were in the water, splashing around together as Nick was building some sandcastles close to where you were seated. The sounds of their laughter made you smile to yourself as you continued reading.

The wind was blowing nicely, allowing just a sliver of a moment where the sweating stopped. You flickered your gaze up to watch the three of them for a minute. They looked so happy and free. It surprised you how such a simple place could bring out the most excitement in people.

"Y/N/N, are you hungry?" Nick was asking as you paused the audiobook from your phone, taking the earbuds out and closing your book.

"Yeah, I could eat," You shrugged, tossing your book into your tote bag that was sitting against the sand, beside your chair.

"Matt, Chris!" Nick called over the wind as his two brothers looked over. "Y/N and I are hungry! We wanna get something to eat! Are you coming?"

Chris gave Nick a thumbs up as the two of them started to get out of the water. They started walking towards you and Nick, grabbing a couple towels to dry themselves off.

With the four of you carrying your beach stuff back to the car, you tossed everything into the trunk before heading to the boardwalk, just beside the beach. It was still stupidly hot as you all tried to find a spot to get some food. There were tons of people around, but luckily they were all too busy doing their own thing to recognize any of you.

"I'm in the mood for pizza," Matt commented as you all agreed. "That place looks good," He pointed down the boardwalk to the left, an open, outdoor pizza restaurant. You all decided on going there and it wasn't long before you got your food.

You and Nick saved a table for the four of you while Matt and Chris ordered your food.

"It's so hot," You grumbled.

"I know, it's kinda disgusting," Nick replied.

You nodded in agreement as Matt and Chris came back with four slices of pizza and a large basket of fries for you all to share.

"We should go shopping after," You suggested and started eating your piece. Chris sat beside Nick and Matt was next to you; you and Nick were across from each other. "Mostly because the stores have air conditioning," You chuckled softly with your mouth full of food.

"I second that," Chris nodded.

The smell of popcorn and funnel cake filled the air, mixed with the saltiness coming off the beach. Despite how hot it was, you were relaxed being around your best friends. There was a cool breeze hitting you as you were under an umbrella, it put a short stop to the sweat that was dripping along the sides of your face and behind your neck.

Walking along the boardwalk again, you were going in store after store, mindlessly looking across the things they had for sale. Some of them were smaller-run businesses, making handmade clothes or trinkets. You were with Matt looking through some of the handmade jewelry one of the stores hand.

"This ring is sick.." You mumbled as you pointed to it as it was resting inside a box, with foam along the bottom, atop a wooden table.

"You should get it," He suggested as he was looking at the necklaces.

"Mm.." You hummed thinking about it.

Across the store, something caught your attention. You walked towards it, without informing Matt, and saw that there were crystal bracelets. You examined them and their style, seeing that they were very beautiful. You decided to pick out three of them for Matt, Nick and Chris.

For Nick, you picked green aventurine. You examine the meaning of the crystal and saw it meant confidence, vitality and growth, that screamed Nick to you.

For Chris, you picked obsidian. It meant protection and got rid of any negativity. That was something you wanted Chris to always have.

For Matt, you decided to get him amethyst which would get rid of any anxiety and calm the mind. He has always opened up to you about that, how anxious he would get from time to time, so you thought it was the perfect one for him.

You made an attempt to be as clandestine as you could, buying them without the three of them knowing. Once you did, you made sure to keep the small bag hidden from their view.

"Hey, what'd you get?" Chris asked as he saw you walking away from the register with a small paper bag.

"Just a necklace," You shrugged it off with a small smile.

"Nice," He nodded with a smile.

Back at their house in Boston, you helped them unpack the van, putting the beach chairs back in their garage and unloading the cooler, pouring the ice out of it. Once you all got inside and showered, putting on some comfy clothes, you were all in the kitchen sharing a couple sodas.

"Oh, I almost forgot.." You slipped out of your chair around the counter and went into Nick's room to fumble through your tote, finding the paper bag with the bracelets in them.

"Here, I got you guys something," You smiled and reached into the paper to hand them each their bracelets. "The meanings of the crystals are on that piece of cardboard on them," You informed.

They looked very happy and grateful that you were thinking of them during a small shopping trip.

"These are so cool, Y/N/N," Chris stated with a smile.

"Oh my God, I love it. I'm gonna wear it everyday," Nick grinned and pulled you into a side hug as you returned the gesture.

"Thanks, Y/N," Matt smiled, you could tell he was truly happy.

"Of course," You grinned, "I thought they matched you each perfectly."

You ended the day watching some movies with them in their living room, on the couch with some bowls of popcorn and other candies. It was one of the nicest days you'd had in a while.

a/n: hi, angels! so here on the east coast it's been absolutely fucking HOT and i hate the heat but it inspired me to write this cute little thing! there wasn't much of a plot, i hope you don't mind, i just wanted to capture some fun platonic stuff with the triplets! i love you all so much mwah! — angelina.

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bratphilia · 7 months

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note ✧.*‎ welcome to my descent into madness aka my first attempt at actually writing something with plot (there will be porn i promise you sickos). anyways this started out as a total daydream bla bla bla yall heard me say this many times before. anyways this chapter is just lore, setup, and foreshadowing for the rest of the story. no mike or william in this chapter bc its really just a flashback.

pairing ✧.*‎ steve raglan / william afton x reader, mike schmidt x reader

cw ✧.*‎ kidnapping, drug use, basically child abandonment, paralysis, manic episode

taglist ✧.*‎ @dilfity @iikyutee @kissingrhi @jen-parker @kathxstuff @papyrus-the-poet @lowballbread @cecelovesbooks @bluebearieally @cybunii @van-van @iamunabletothinkofablogname @1ncidentdropout @ice-echo26 @officially-a-simp13 @all4kura @el-sol-sale-de-nuevo @littlexstarlightx @samlow23 @iikyutee

chapter synopsis ✧.*‎ you're fourteen when fate pushes you over the edge, and fifteen when it gets even worse.

lovelace by hoshikoe ⟶ prologue

you're fourteen when fate pushes you over the edge. freddy fazbear’s pizza, a rinky-dink restaurant geared towards kids, is where you’re forced to occupy one day in july. you’re not here for yourself — far from it — you’re here for your little sister, emmy. she isn’t the type of kid to run up to the creepy, uncanny looking animatronics while they robotically sing and dance, only to be apprehended by a tired employee, but she does love them. she loves them to the point where at least one day, maybe two, is spent at freddy’s over the summer. and guess who has to babysit her since mom and dad can’t make it everyday? that’s right, you!

anyways, back to the present. your eyes burn to stay open. the lack of air conditioning in the restaurant provides for a makeshift blanket. “em,” you say to your sister. her eyes are glued on the stage, humming along to the song the animatronics are “singing” while kicking her feet. she ignores you. “em, if i fall asleep, you need to stay right here.”

“mhm,” she murmurs back, continuing her humming. you roll your eyes. there was a part of you that knew you shouldn’t have trusted her. it was screaming at you internally as loud as it could, but the gripes of tiredness overpowered it with ease.

your eyes open for a second, in complete haze. as they open in the direction of where emmy sat, the chair is vacant. it doesn't immediately raise alarm — you're still halfway asleep — but another glance towards the hallway, the one where the employees seem to be coming from, there's the familiar back of a head walking next to a bright, golden colored character. when you finally wake up, you realize you weren't dreaming. your sister is gone. panicking, you rise up from the table and head off the only direction you can think of: down the hall. you aggressively brush pass other employees, ignoring their remarks, telling you that you can't be back there.

finally, a man forcefully stops you by grabbing your shoulders. "you can't be back here. what are you doing?"

"my sister," you say, not noticing how breathless you are until you start speaking. "my sister — she went back here. i have to find her."

the man raises an eyebrow at you. he's wearing a suit and tie, he must be an owner or something. "no one is back here except for employees, but i can help you find her if you say you saw her go back here." you nod, feeling somewhat assured. you know you saw her back here; she has to be somewhere. the man, who introduces himself to you as henry, tells you to wait back at your table. you do as he says, anxiously anticipating him to come out with your sister.

a flurry of things you would say to her flows through your head, each one more scathing the last. how she shouldn't have run off without telling you, going to a place that was obviously closed off to the public. when henry eventually returned, it was just about closing time. the restaurant was empty of patrons. an employee had asked you to leave, but you explained you were waiting for the owner to return something to you. the sunset cast an orange hue that shone through the windows.

"i'm so sorry," henry had said kindly. "i don't know where she is. i couldn't find her."

your face drops and your heart sinks. your lip trembles. "b-but i can't leave without her."

henry looks at you sympathetically. "let's call up your folks, yeah? don't want you to leave here empty handed, and i'm sure i could help alleviate the situation." you nod, tears forming in your eyes at the thought of your parents finding out about your negligence. you give henry your house phone number and lay your head down at the table. you stare at the abandoned bonnie plushie that sits on emmy's chair. you try to focus on it, its purple fur and red bowtie, instead of thinking about your parents' reaction and emmy's disappearance.

it was your dad that came. he didn't spare you a glance at first, just demanded where his daughter was. it wasn't until a sob escaped your lips that he turned to you. you'll never forget the look on his face, that look of disappointment, resentment even. he grabbed you with a tight grip on your arm and dragged you to the car. the car ride home was silent, your dad's jaw was clenched, white knuckles gripping the steering wheel.

"you useless thing," mom had snarled at you when you got home. "you ruined everything. you wanted this to happen, didn't you?"

you slammed the door and flopped onto your bed. on your side, your eyes were trained on the door to your room. you were waiting for emmy to come bursting through your door any minute now, ready to annoy you about anything she could come up with. but she never came. you stared blankly around your room that night, not sleeping, watching the shadows change and light slowly cast and darken over your room.

you started high school that year. freshman year wasn't anything that special. you actually managed to make it into a popular friend group. it wasn't all it was cracked up to be, though. it wasn't like your friends weren't nice, they were, it's just you felt so detached from reality at times that it was hard to enjoy what they were enjoying. you felt like an outsider looking in your own group. always wondering what the hype was about, wondering what other people could find so funny in the moment.

alicia, who seemed to be the head of the group, asked you what was bothering you so much. she didn't demand it out of you, and she didn't put you on the spot. something about it still put you off. "it's some shit with my family," you had told her, "don't worry about it, i'm fine. really." she looked like she didn't quite believe you, but she left it alone anyways. after that, the group treated you a little differently. you had guessed alicia told them what you said. it's not like they were distant, they seemed to be looking out for you more than usual, actually.

it wasn't until another girl in your friend group, kat, had pulled you aside, that you found a coping mechanism. you followed her into the bathroom. "i'm going to help you feel better," she declared. she pulled you into the larger bathroom stall and reached her hand out after searching for something in her bag. she held out a white tablet in the palm of her hand.

you furrowed your brow, unsure. "what is it?"

"vicodin," she told you, and again, "it will make you feel better."

you spared her a glanced and then took it, dry swallowing it. she smiled. "let's go to class, we have first period together."

it didn't kick in until about when class was over. a woozy, unsteady feeling washed over you. your head felt numb, and suddenly all thoughts about your parents and emmy were gone. that day was the most fun you had in years. you sat with your friends at lunch, completely immersed in their presence for once. you did stupid things to make them laugh, such as asking out a shy boy in your class. you wanted to feel like this everyday. you wanted to hold onto this feeling forever.

it didn't last forever, of course, and it wasn't an everyday thing. which is why you stood in the open doorway of your parents bedroom, age fifteen, in the middle of the night. they had a bathroom inside their bedroom that you planned to sneak into. you knew for a fact your mom had a container of vicodin in her medicine cabinet.

the only thing you could hear as you slipped past their bed, their sleeping bodies, is slight ruffle of your feet against the carpet and the beating of your heart. when you successfully made it to the bathroom, you carefully opened the medicine cabinet, disguised as a mirror, and used a mini-flashlight to search the labels until you eventually found a bottle labeled "hydrocodone." you were slow to take it, not wanting the pills inside to rattle and make a noise, then tiptoed back to your room.

you noticed how breathless you were. your mind raced with "what-if" scenarios. what if your parents caught you with the bottle in your hands? what would they do to you? you could only imagine your mother's harsh words, your dad's look of resentment, and suddenly you're thinking about emmy's disappearance again, and—

you freeze — no — you're frozen. you can't move any part of you. your grip on the pill bottle loosens and it tumbles on the ground. you want to reach out to grab it but you just can't seem to move. it's terrifying. your body horribly leans to the side, too. and then it stops.

you're still out of breath and wondering what the fuck had just happened to you. you abandon the pills, hiding them under your bed, you just can't do this right now. you lay down and stare at the ceiling, that moment replaying in your head over and over. you don't get any sleep that night. in fact, it's a night like the past couple nights, where instead of sleeping, you're ruminating in every little thing, every awkward moment, every mistake.

morning comes sooner than later. you're getting ready for school with your mind still racing. not just about the events of the previous night, or your fault in emmy's disappearance, but about every little thing. it's like your brain is on autopilot, though. you're doing things, putting your clothes on, fuck, even putting makeup on — something that was rare for you. reaching under the bed, you felt giddy. you couldn't wait to go to school today.

before you know it, you're at school, heart racing. you gathered your friends in the bathroom, it's cramped with the five of you in there. it was a little hard for you to get them together, you couldn't necessarily get the words out. it wasn't like you were shy or anything, it's like your mouth tumbled out all the wrong words. your friends look at you expectantly and you present them with the bottle of vicodin. only kat seems to be pleased.

"are you... okay?" alicia asked, a look of concern growing on her face.

you frowned. "i thought w-we could do this together. y'know? have some fun."

"i don't really do that sort of thing," was her response. she prompted the rest of your friends, even kat, out of the bathroom, leaving you there alone. you sunk against the wall, sliding to sit down on the floor. what just happened? you felt embarrassed, but like it was against your will, you popped two pills, and moved on.

it was as fun as you hoped it was. you were elated, actually. and you made a very important decision. randomly, you had decided you were going to go to freddy's and look for emmy yourself. she had to be there right? if no one had found her? there were big, obvious holes in your logic, but that didn't seem clear to you then in that moment. what mattered most to you was getting your sister back, getting your family back together.

you impulsively decided to carry out this plan in the middle of english class, asking your teacher if you can go to the bathroom. you catch alicia's eye as you leave. she offers you a strange look. as you walk out to the gate, someone calls your name. you turn and it's the guidance counselor on your trail.

"what are you doing?" she asked. "nevermind, come with me."

she leads you to the main office, close by the gate. she has you sit down in the waiting room while she dials your home number and calls your dad to pick you up. you barely pay attention to what she's saying until the phrase, "needs to go to the hospital, as soon as possible."

and that's how you ended up in the hospital, monitored by either a nurse or a tech. it's hard to tell, but at least two days go by in the blink of an eye. you refuse to eat, chewing desperately only at your finger nails and peeling off the dry skin from your lip; two anxiety habits you've always had, worsened by your current state of mind.

it's not until you wake up from a three hour nap, the most sleep you've gotten in at least a week, to the voices of your parents talking to a psychiatrist in the room. "...we think it's bipolar disorder. she's showing most symptoms of a manic episode."

"oh great, another thing for us to take care of," your mom says sarcastically. your dad is rubbing his eyes, looking pained. they barely even notice the fact that you're awake.

#fnaf #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's

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lilsunflower95 · 4 months

Text

Prove It: Chapter 1 ~ Time to Go

Pairing: Jimin x reader (f)

Genre: Fluff, angst

Rating: T-SFW

Word Count: 2,864

Warnings: Bad breakup with a cheater, depression (difficulty eating, and negative self-talk) a little bit of cursing

Disclaimers: ©lilsunflower95 - As this is my original work, I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms, this includes YouTube, Tik Tok, Pinterest, or Wattpad.

Summary: It's been a week since you'd broken up with your boyfriend, but Jimin is determined to show you not all Libras are bad.

m.list (coming soon)

You walked through the shopping center glowering at the Valentine's Day sales that were being advertised in almost every store while teddy bears, roses, and diamonds seemed to mock you.

“Stop being so grumpy.” Your best friend, Meiko, hooked her arm around yours and pulled you in close to her with a smile. “It’s been a week now. You’re too young and life is too short to be hung up on a guy who did you so wrong.”

“I know that.” You heaved a sigh and pulled your focus back to the group of friends you were out with. You shifted the bag on your other arm and let your head lul towards her as the scent of freshly baked cinnamon rolls mingled with the scent of musky perfume. “I just… really thought he was the one.”

“Hey, we’re gonna get food.” Namjoon looked over his shoulder at the two of you. “You two hungry?”

“No.”

“Yes. We are.” Meiko spoke over you, making you shake from side to side as if she could rid your mood with the motion. “You need to eat. Not eating is a form of self-harm and as your best friend, I can’t let that happen. We’ll go get something nice and yummy and healthy and it’ll help you feel better. It doesn’t have to be a lot, but it has to be something.”

You sighed, letting your shoulders relax as you nodded, knowing she was right and wanting to help. You knew you were lucky to have people in your life who cared about your well-being, but if you were being completely honest, all you wanted to do was be at home, curled up under your heavy blankets.

“You guys want sushi?” Namjoon looked back over at the two of you and pointed to a restaurant coming up. Meiko's eyes grew wide as she hurried you to catch up with the others.

“Ooh! Yes! That sounds delicious!”

It sounded terrible, but you didn't want to be more of a downer. You let her drag you to a long wooden table in the corner. Small black plates with neatly arranged napkins were sat at each place while white orchids made up the centerpiece.

The hostess waited patiently with a polite smile while the group sat, even when Namjoon and Jin swapped places so Namjoon could be next to Meiko, then laid a laminated menu in front of everyone. You watched her scurry back to her stand before staring blankly at your menu.

There were items that would have enticed you on any other day, but as your eyes drifted over the descriptions, nothing stuck out. You weren’t even sure you were hungry.

Your brow fell as you tried to remember the last thing you ate. You’d skipped breakfast. He would always make breakfast for you since he got up earlier. You hadn’t had a snack. He’d sit around reading while eating tangerines mindlessly until his mouth ached from the acid.

“What sounds good?” Meiko’s sweet voice broke you from your thoughts, smiling when you blinked her back into focus.

“I…,” you sighed and slumped back in your chair, “I don’t know.”

“Can I order for you then? It’ll be good, I promise.”

You nodded with a small shrug as the waitress came over with a bright smile amplified by her red lipstick. Meiko ordered for both of you, her long nails pointing to each item as she went, pausing thoughtfully as she debated between two dishes with a small hum.

You glanced up and saw Namjoon watching her, his elegant fingers drumming on the table, but not from irritation or impatience. Her bangs had fallen into her face, obscuring her eyes. You grinned to yourself as you watched him desperate to brush her locks away, but unable to do so without giving himself away.

If only he would act on his impulses or just say something.

The waitress gave another smile as she finished taking orders with a nod then breezed away, leaving you to watch your friends erupt into a lively conversation about the playoff party they were organizing for the next day.

“I can make food.”

Was that your voice?

A hush momentarily fell over the table as everyone looked at you.

You watched their faces run a gamut of emotions; some going from surprise to delight, others from delight to surprise.

“Would you?” Namjoon almost smiled as he glanced around the table to get a quick pulse on the idea before looking back at you. Would you? Was that a smart idea? “We would chip in to help pay for everything.”

“Y/N,” Meiko’s voice was in your ear again, “are you sure?”

“It would be cheaper than ordering in.” Hoseok admitted sheepishly, as though it were taboo to be tight on money.

You nodded and swallowed hard. You couldn’t back out now without disappointing your friends. A part of you wanted to make up for being in such a sour mood today. “Of course. I’d be happy to.”

You turned your attention down to the plate before you with a small smile as your face grew warm while Meiko rubbed your arm. Glancing at her, you saw her smile.

“Thank you very much, Y/N. That would be very helpful.”

“I’ll Venmo you some money.” Songwu raised his chin as he slouched against the wall, pulling his phone from his pants pocket.

“I’ll help you cook.” Meiko and Jin looked at each other, both suppressing their smiles at the idea of echoing each other while Namjoon shifted in his seat as they began to laugh.

You couldn’t help but giggle too. “Thank you both. I appreciate it.”

You sat up straighter, suddenly feeling a bit lighter as your phone vibrated with each notification you received while the waitress and a runner sat an array of dishes of varying colors and textures in front of everyone. You stared at the braised lotus roots, one of your favorite dishes but couldn’t muster the desire to eat them.

“So, um, Y/N…” You looked over to your left where Goeun sat, slowly smoothing her waist length hair using one fist at a time while the rest of the table went back to talking about the game. “How have you been doing since Ta….?” She stopped when you slouched back in your chair, the light feeling evaporating like dew drying in the sun.

For the first time in a week, you’d started to feel better, like you had been detoxed from him for five minutes but now his broad smile was right back in the forefront of your mind’s eye.

You knew she hadn’t meant anything bad by her question. She’d never been in a relationship before. She had no idea what you were going through or how something as simple as hearing a name could wreck your mood.

“Oh, no, darling. We’re not going to say his name.” Meiko shook her head, her voice soft as she reached across you to rest her hand on the younger girls’ arm. “To say his name is to welcome him back. He’s in the past where he belongs, so we’re going to leave him there.”

“Oh. Okay. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You plastered a smile on your face and gave a small nod. “Thank you.” You took a deep breath and glanced at Meiko. “It’s been tough adjusting to not having him around as much. We were practically living together. I wanted to… move in together, I mean.”

Her eyes went wide. “Did your parents approve?”

You laughed and shook your head ruefully. “No. They were very strongly opposed to the idea.”

“Nevermind that now. We should enjoy this delicious food and nourish ourselves.” Meiko looked at you when she spoke. You pursed your lips and nodded, shifting your weight.

You hadn’t even told your parents about your breakup. They would be delighted by the news.

You felt your irritation rise at the thought as you took up a sauce package from the small tray and chewed on your lip.

They wouldn’t be able to help themselves from telling you how right they were and how wrong you were. They would do it gleefully.

Goeun gave a soft hum as she slowly tore open the package of her chopsticks and swallowed hard. “It’s a good lesson, I suppose.”

Her voice was soft. You knew she hadn’t meant anything rude by it. You had been very lucky you hadn’t moved in with him. It would have made this whole thing awkward and even more difficult.

“Well, I’m sure you learned a lot from this.”

Your brain told you this was a teachable moment for her, but your pride had been wounded from your failure and was sensitive to criticism. If it had been your parents, you could have held your tongue better, but your friends were supposed to be different. They were supposed to be supportive and patient and kind. You knew you made a bad call dating him, but he was bad in all the best ways. You had to take a chance!

"Yeah, I learned to never date Libras!" You violently shook the sauce packet before ripping it open with your teeth as Jimin leaned forward to see you, his face contorted in disdain.

"Hey! Don't say that. We're not all bad!"

Boosted by your sensitivity and irritation, your eyebrows rose as a burst of confidence exploded deep and clouded your heart away from your more courageous and fragile ego. "Oh yeah?"

"Yes!" He raked his fingers through his blond hair, drawing it away from his brow for a moment before it flopped back into his impossibly warm eyes that stirred something in the pit of your stomach.

"Prove it then." Your voice would normally have wobbled at giving a command in that tone, but now it was strong and demanding. Your fingers grew cold as a shiver tore down your spine, sending a wave of goosebumps over your torso.

Where had that come from? When had you ever been so bold?

But you found yourself sitting up straighter as his brow rose and the table became quieter, the conversation turning into whispers of anticipation while everyone looked at each other then to Jimin.

He looked around before clearing his throat and schooling his face to regain a little control. He smiled at you and licked his lips as his eyes flicked over your figure.

'Weighing my worth' you thought bitterly. 'Just like the others.'

"You want me to? Because I will."

You saw his Adam’s apple bob. You knew he had to take the bet in front of everyone though. You knew that as they turned their attention to you. "You won't last a week."

"Is that a yes?" Jimin tipped his head playfully with a smile as you rolled your eyes.

Oh no. This was a terrible idea. He would be on his best behavior and sucking up to you just to try and prove a point with inauthenticity. What had you gotten yourself into?

You heaved a sigh and forced yourself to meet his expectant gaze.

“Yes.” Just another win, Y/N. Well done. "You can try and do your best. Time will tell.”

He laughed and tapped one end of his chopsticks on the table as he leaned forward. “Aw, come on, Y/N. You gotta play fair and give me a chance.”

You pulled one side of your mouth back as you slouched and plucked up a slice of the root. You’d never considered Jimin as a potential partner. He was handsome. He knew it too and was unafraid to flirt with anyone who would lend him a pair of eyes.

You glanced at Meiko who gave you a sad, doubtful gaze before you sighed and started to eat.

Maybe you could call it off later. Would anyone care if you did? You doubted it. They’d probably forget by the time they got home.

The rest of the group recovered from your outburst and was soon back into a lively conversation and laughing as everyone ate.

When it was time to leave, you waved to everyone and hugged Meiko before starting towards your car, digging in your coat pocket for your keys.

“Y/N, hold up!” Jimin’s voice came from behind you.

You looked back to see him jogging towards you with a smile. Your heart sank as your shoulders slumped. “Oh. Hi, Jimin. Look, I’m sorry for how I acted….”

“Oh! I thought you said I would be the one who wouldn’t last the week. Why are you giving in already?”

You looked to the side to watch a bird search the sidewalk for food with a sigh. “Post-eating clarity?”

He hummed and leaned against your car, his smile growing wider. “I think you like me and you know you can’t resist my charms.”

He lifted his head and wrapped his plush lips over his teeth in an attempt to conceal his smile as his dark brows rose up, daring you to prove him wrong.

You pushed him with a scoff and a roll of your eyes, making him laugh as you shook your head and crossed your arms. “You wish.”

“Let me have your number.”

Your face fell.

What?

What’s a number?

You stared into his eyes as your heart blossomed wings and flew away while your mouth fell open, working (and failing) to form words. “I… uh….”

Jimin waved his hand in front of your face, snapping you back into reality. “I think I have you under my spell already.”

“Oh!” You frowned and shoved your key into the door lock. “Oh, you wish!”

You yanked the back door open and struggled with the tangle of handles of the bags you had gathered in the crook of your arm.

His hand rested on yours, soft and warm, making you still immediately before looking up at him. “Here, please let me help.”

You nodded and watched him quickly and efficiently extract one bag at a time, setting them neatly on the floor of your car then closed the door. He turned back towards you and watched you for a moment.

“So…,” he pulled his phone from the breast pocket of his coat and navigated through the apps then looked back up at you through his lashes, “about your number?”

“It’s, uh…,” you inhaled as you trembled before giving him the number.

He smiled and entered the information then tapped a few times before pocketing the phone while yours vibrated in your purse. “Wonderful. Call me when you get home so I know you got there safely, please.”

You wanted to be snippy, just to make the challenge as hard as possible, but you looked down at your shoes for a second. He’ll get bored of me soon enough. No need to be mean.

You nodded in defeat and looked back up at him, gasping when he brushed your hair to the side, blinking at his boldness.

“Call me.” He reminded you gently as he opened the driver’s door for you. You sank down into your seat, your eyes not leaving his until he closed the door and took a step back.

“Holy shit.” Your lips parted as your heart raced while you turned the engine over and backed out of the space.

You hazarded a last glance at Jimin as he tucked a hand into his pants and waved while you put the car into gear and began to roll forward. You waved back and inhaled deeply.

The city was a blur as you drove a little slower than normal as your mind replayed the evening repeatedly.

The feeling worsened when you pulled your phone out to dutifully text Meiko, and now Jimin, but stopped when you saw the text from Jimin.

Just a simple emoji….

It was just a smiley face but it made your heart feel like it was full of butterflies.

You walked through molasses as you shuffled up the stairs to your apartment with a reeling mind.

None of this was on your bingo card.

Unable to wait a moment longer, you texted Jimin as soon as you locked your door behind you, not trusting your voice to work.

Fri, 20:03 PM

You: Hey Jimin, it’s Y/N. I made it home.

Why were you being such a fool? It was just a text. It was just Jimin. No big deal!

And yet, you’d had to correct the text three times before you sent it.

You’re being ridiculous.

Your phone vibrated in your hand, snapping you away from your pity party.

Fri, 20:04 PM

Jimin: Good. I’ll call you in the morning. 😗

You stared at the text for a long moment. He sure was taking this whole thing seriously. You swallowed hard as your eyes fixated on the emoji. What did it mean? You knew what it was, but how did he want you to interpret it? You couldn’t recall him kissing anyone goodbye. Had you missed it?

You really couldn’t remember.

You shook your head and sank down on your sofa, staring at nothing as you smiled for the first time in a long time.

Next⏭(coming soon!)

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Taglist: @courtneytheeartist; @thelyricistedan-blog; @danielle143; @sunshine-mrk; @chimthicc

I hope you liked this. I'm really excited to go on this journey. What do you think of it? Please let me know. I'd love to hear your thoughts! My asks are open if you want to be anonymous too 💜🌻

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capricornlevi · 1 year

Text

professional obligations - osamu miya x reader

summary: attending your neighbourhood's annual business awards ceremony is not exactly your idea of an ideal night out. however, the owner of a shop a few doors down from your cafe makes an appearance and, to your surprise, you end up liking him quite a bit. timeskip osamu x reader.

cw: explicit sexual content, consumption of alcohol

NSFW, 18+ - MDNI - MINORS and AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT!

wc: 5.9k

“Champagne?”

The waiter holds out the silver tray with a polite smile and no judgment in his eyes, so you take two of the flutes without thinking twice about it. You’ll need some liquid courage if you have any hope of sticking this out to the end.

If you had any other place to be on this Saturday night then you likely wouldn’t be here right now, in a mid-range hotel ballroom, attending the 25th Annual Local Small Business & Restaurant Awards ceremony with absolutely no connections to help you break the ice, and without a date by your side to keep you company.

You knock back half a glass of champagne with a grimace, hoping the waiter isn’t offended; your expression has nothing to do with the refreshments.

The champagne is actually quite delightful.

Thankfully, he’s moved on to serve the table next to you and so he doesn’t notice. You spot him chatting with the co-owners of a successful flower shop located across the street from your café, congratulating them on their win. You seem to be the only person having difficulty with small-talk this evening.

Your table has mostly been cleared except for a few coats and handbags draped over the backs of empty chairs. You watch as the guests mingle on the ballroom floor, showing off their medals and trophies and certificates.

Your own award sits proudly next to your place card – a small golden trophy bearing the name of your coffee shop, with “INDEPENDENT CAFÉ OF THE YEAR” written in tiny but perfectly-engraved letters at the base.

It’s silly. Just a trivial little token. After tomorrow’s celebratory post on the café’s Instagram account, you’ll likely forget all about it.

It’s silly, meaningless, but you feel proud nonetheless. You smile to yourself, allowing a moment of indulgence as you reflect upon your journey.

Running your own business hasn’t been easy.

It all started five years ago when you were fresh out of university, burdened with student loans and with absolutely no plans for the future, and so you took up a job as a barista in a locally-run café to pay the bills. You had zero barista experience and could barely prepare toast successfully, let alone the intricate pastries that the café was known for, but the elderly owner took a liking to you and gave you a chance to learn from her. Her wisdom and experience were unmatched.

Surprisingly, you found yourself loving almost every part of the job - baking in the tiny kitchen, brewing the coffee, chatting to customers - and just one year after joining you were promoted to supervisor. Business was never better than with you in charge and so you climbed up the ranks quickly, and when the owner retired three years later, she offered you the right of first refusal in buying the place.

It seemed ridiculous at first. You were twenty-five, had no experience in the behind-the-scenes aspects of running a business, and still had most of your loans to pay off. Even though your heart soared at the idea of making the café your own, it just didn’t seem realistic.

However the owner, only wanting to earn enough from the sale to retire comfortably, set the asking price far lower than what was typical for this area. It was still a big commitment, but it was one that you couldn’t refuse. As a result, you were able to secure a small business loan from the bank and, with your mentor’s blessing, started a complete rebrand of the café the moment your signature was on the dotted line.

The café soon became remarkably popular. It went from being a hidden gem that people tended to stumble upon by accident to a bustling local hotspot, reviewed in countless travel guides and magazines.

Word-of-mouth did the rest of the publicity for you. You only use fresh, local ingredients in your baked goods and the finest coffee beans for your beverages, and the steady line of customers outside the café every morning shows how your efforts are appreciated.

The award helps, too.

Setting aside your awkward reluctance to mingle, you suppose this evening hasn’t been a total waste. You allow yourself this moment of pride in your achievement.

“Best café, huh?” a voice calls out from over your shoulder, and you turn to face the person speaking. “Not surprised, to be honest. I had ya pegged to win it from the beginning.”

Standing to your left-hand side is Osamu Miya.

Osamu Miya, the owner of what is soon-to-be a chain of beloved onigiri businesses, is shooting a lop-sided smile in your direction, making your face heat for reasons you don’t quite understand.

He’s wearing a shirt and tie - business formal, as the dress code stipulated - but his suit jacket is slung over his arm, the top button of his shirt is undone, and his dark hair is a bit more dishevelled than it was when delivering his acceptance speech onstage.

You just stare at him for a moment.

He’s standing here as if you were expecting to see him, praising you so earnestly and seemingly without any ulterior motives. You’re very confused as to why he’s doing this.

You’ve spoken to him all of twice in your life; the first of which was to place an order at his shop to see if it was worth the hype (it was), and the second time was when you knocked on his door to ask him to sign a petition for new parking regulations to be implemented in the neighbourhood. Both conversations were brief and civil and very unexciting.

You don’t know him at all. To be honest, the only thing you have in common is that your café is three doors down from his flagship store.

And to be even more honest, a tiny part of you has been quite jealous of him for a while now.

You wish you didn’t feel this way. No part of you wants to begrudge anyone’s success — it’s not that he doesn’t work hard, he really does, you’ve seen as much from the countless times you’ve passed his shop on the way to work — but he just manages it all so effortlessly. His shop has been open for only ten months now and he’s already expanded to two new locations. He gets more publicity and acclaim than you’ve seen from any other business at this event, and every afternoon you see how the queue for his place doubles that of yours.

He has been honoured with no less than four awards for Onigiri Miya - Best Casual Dining, Best Newcomer, Most Popular Promotional Campaign, and the coveted Small Business of the Year prize - and the only times you’ve spotted him over the course of the evening have been while he’s on stage collecting a trophy or when he’s surrounded by people congratulating him on his success.

He seems perfectly nice, but some dark part of your brain worries that he’s just here to rub it in. He’s received fawning praise from pretty much every other person here – maybe he wants you to do the same?

Worst of all, you know he doesn’t mean what he said about anticipating your win tonight. He’s never even been to your café.

This is especially hurtful considering you bought not one, not two, but three onigiris when you visited his shop, yet he hasn’t bothered to even try a shot of espresso.

How rude.

He must notice the way you tense up, your lips pulling together tight, but his smile doesn’t falter even for a moment.

“Is this seat taken?” he asks, gesturing to the one beside you. Up until twenty minutes ago, it was occupied by an overly-chatty local councilman who hogged all the red wine and kept making jokes at his opponents’ expense, but from the way he suddenly sprinted outside while on the phone with his campaign manager, you doubt he’ll be returning anytime soon.

You shake your head and watch as Osamu takes a seat by your side.

“Some event, huh?” he observes conversationally, as if you two have known each other for years. “I kinda figured it’d be boring as shit, but an open bar fixes all that, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you repeat back to him.

Your delivery isn’t exactly rude - even as jealousy rears its ugly head, the rational side of you knows that none of this is really his fault - but any observer could see that you’re not returning his enthusiasm at all. You’re barely smiling, nodding along just to be polite, clearly distracted.

Still, he perseveres.

“And hey, thanks for gettin’ that petition started, by the way,” he carries on, “I’m sure ya saw already, but it’s helped business on the street like nothin’ I ever saw before.”

Damn, he’s good at this. You feel your defences drop, the hostility evaporating from your system with every word that comes from his mouth.

Still, you don’t want to give in. He’s surely here just to pad his own ego, right? What other business would he have talking to someone who he barely knows?

“Yeah?” you prompt, testing his resolve. You look his way, trying to gauge his reaction – if he’s lying, you’ll surely catch him out now. “You think so?”

Osamu nods thoughtfully, the very picture of sincerity, and passes your test with flying colours.

“Hundred percent. It wouldn’t’ve gotten anywhere if ya hadn’t put the time in. I’m only sorry I didn’t get to help ya a bit more.”

Oh, shit. You’re smiling now. You didn’t do it consciously and you’re not even sure when it started, but it’s happening. You can’t seem to stop it.

“No problem. I’m glad it worked out,” you concede, taking another sip of the champagne – finishing the champagne, would be more accurate. You hadn’t realised how quickly you knocked back that last glass.

Osamu seems to have had a few glasses, too, judging by the pink blush that’s dusting his cheekbones.

It looks sort of nice, actually.

Both the blush and his … face, in general.

Woah. That development takes you by surprise.

Osamu leans back in the chair, looking at you in a way that makes you worry you’ve been found out, but his expression doesn’t betray anything other than a fond curiosity.

“Wanna go for another?” he asks, gesturing at the empty flute in your hand. “A drink, I mean?”

You glance around the room, trying to find the friendly waiter with the tray of champagne. You can’t see him, can’t see anyone offering glasses to the crowd – the crowd which has thinned out considerably since you last checked, leaving only half the attendees standing around. It must be later than you thought.

“I can’t see any servers … I don’t think they have any more champagne.”

Osamu flushes.

“I … uh, didn’t mean from here.”

He - what?

You set the glass back down on the table a bit too quickly, hoping the gesture doesn’t come across as hostile.

“I just meant … this place is gettin’ a little tired,” he explains, his delivery remarkably confident considering the blush has reached the tips of his ears. “There’s a bar just down the street if ya wanted to go fer a nightcap or somethin’?”

Your grin is back, and you blame the champagne for the words that slip out next.

“Getting tired of your adoring public?”

Osamu clutches his chest in mock offence. “You’re tellin’ me ya don’t adore me?”

It’s getting really difficult to pretend you have no interest in talking to this man. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you flipped, how you want to say yes to his request right now. You want to go for a drink with him. You want to keep the conversation going, to maybe find out he’s not as cocky and self-assured as you originally assumed.

You bite the inside of your cheek, thinking things over.

“I might not adore you,” you begin, laughing when he pretends to slump down in his chair with despair, “yet, anyway,” and he sits up straighter, encouraged, “but I will go for a drink with you, if that helps things?”

“That’ll do fer now,” he agrees, holding out a hand to help you up after you’ve grabbed your award from the table and slipped it carefully into your handbag. “As long as we get out of here before the mayor’s staff try to corner us again.”

You cast him an amused glance. “I thought you said this was a good night?”

“Yeah, it was, when the bar tab was still open,” he scoffs. “I couldn’t subject ya to their lecture about fuckin’ urban sanitation without at least one drink in your hand.”

Once you’re on your feet, he lets go of your hand and turns to fetch his jacket and his own awards from his table, promising to be back in just a second.

You take a few moments during his absence to try and process this whole thing, willfully ignoring the pang of disappointment you feel at the loss of his touch.

This is … weird. Not ten minutes ago you were sitting alone, proud of your victory but still sulking a little, feeling an embarrassingly childish resentment for the star of tonight’s show, Osamu Miya.

But now he’s after ruining the whole thing by walking to your table, charming you out of your self-imposed isolation, and making you kind of … like him.

And you’re leaving this event to go for a drink with him. Just the two of you. Alone. Since that’s the perfect way to commemorate the third conversation you’ve shared together, apparently.

Your mind starts to race. Are you friends now? Is he going to start stopping by the café in the mornings? Will he expect you to do the same?

Maybe this is too much too fast. You start to have second thoughts, instinctually racking your brain for a decent excuse to bail out.

But then you see Osamu approach you again, his tie loose around his neck and smile still so infectious, and all those anxious thoughts disappear … only to be replaced by more exciting, more confusing ones.

Seeing him now, he’s taller than you remembered - broader, too, as shown by the way his shirt tightens against his chest as he moves - and his features more striking, with his grey eyes capturing your attention in a way you’d never noticed before.

Your integrity is taking a serious hit tonight.

Still … you’d be lying if you said you weren’t just a little bit curious as to how things will play out from here.

___

The bar that Osamu takes you to is surprisingly cosy. You’re not sure why, but you had expected something lavish - this is an expensive neighbourhood, after all - but this seems to be more of a family-run establishment, small and contained, with an open fireplace and candle-lit lamps providing most of the visibility.

The wall is lined with booths and cushioned seats, only a few of which are occupied, and the music is playing through an old vinyl player perched on the bar counter.

You much prefer this to one of the busier, fancier cocktail bars that have popped up on this street.

The bartender waves at you both as you walk inside, clearly recognising your companion as he gives him a friendly greeting. You take a seat in a booth by the corner as Osamu goes to place the drinks order.

Once he returns with two beers in hand you stop nervously fidgeting with a loose napkin on the table, instead choosing to lean back in the chair to appear more settled.

You smile, thanking him for the drink.

Osamu takes his seat but doesn’t even get to take a sip of his beer before his phone starts to ring.

“Shit, sorry,” he mutters, grabbing the phone and turning down the call. “I’ll mute it.”

“You sure?” you ask in a way that’s almost teasing, prompting a grin and a shake of his head. “It could be urgent – it could be about another award.”

“You’re tryin’ to embarrass me in my favourite bar?” he asks, as close to deadpan as you think he can get. “After I got my hopes up you were startin’ to adore me?”

You chuckle and shrug, trying the beer yourself. It’s nice – from a local brewery you hadn’t tried before. He has better taste than you’d thought.

“That was my brother callin’,” Osamu explains with a roll of his eyes as he says the word brother. “Dumbass is playin’ abroad right now - well, the game is over, so he’s technically celebratin’ - and he doesn’t have any concept of time or schedules.”

“I mean, you’re out drinking too,” you observe, prompting another dramatic eye roll.

“He doesn’t have to know that part!” Osamu objects, sliding his phone into his pocket and leaning back in his seat. Another heart-melting smile. “Plus, I’ve got company. That’s where I wanna keep my focus, not on whatever shitty drunken singalong ‘Tsumu’s gonna try an’ start again if I pick up his call.”

Your face heats. At this point, you’ve given up all attempts at staying resentful.

Which reminds you of something you’ve completely forgotten to tell him.

“Congratulations, by the way. I never said it earlier – four awards, very impressive,” you say, finding that against all odds, you actually mean it.

“Thanks,” he beams, running a hand through his hair. “But it shoulda just been three, to be honest.”

You frown, confused. Osamu was the frontrunner for every award he was nominated for tonight, and you hadn’t taken his modesty to be that extreme. “What do you mean?”

He catches your gaze, almost as if he hopes the point will come across through eye contact alone; when it doesn’t, he clarifies;

“You shoulda won Small Business of the Year.”

Your resulting laugh nearly makes you choke on your beer. It’s flattering - sweet, really - and now that you have more faith in his intentions, you can appreciate the gesture.

But you’re also a realist. That award was one you knew you weren’t walking away with tonight. “C’mon-”

“I mean it!” he objects.

“Miya, I know you’re being nice, but you opened two new shops this year alone. And hey, don’t get me wrong, I did fine. But I didn’t get nearly as much business as you did over the summer.”

“Firstly, call me Osamu,” he retorts, his expression showing that he’s clearly having a lot of fun with this. He pauses as he brings the glass of beer to his lips. “And secondly, I’m not just being nice – I voted for ya.”

You blink at him for a moment, heart fluttering in your chest as you process the admission.

It doesn’t seem like he’s lying. He doesn’t sound like he’s lying. Still, you’re baffled – there were dozens of businesses on the shortlist for the award, and you can’t imagine Osamu Miya putting your name above all the others.

Mostly because he’s never even set foot in your door.

“I - uh, thank you, Osamu.”

He laughs. “You look confused.”

“Well, I am a little,” you admit, not even sure of where to start. “I appreciate it, but I just … have you ever tried my coffee? I mean, it’s completely fine if you haven’t, I’ve just never seen you-”

“I get it every day.”

You freeze, expression shifting from confused to utterly taken aback. “What?”

“I put in a mobile order every day, around eleven in the morning. I’m usually busy in the kitchen at that point, so one of the sales assistants collects it and I give them the order number.”

Same order, same time every day …

“Shit!” you exclaim, suddenly putting it all together. You set your glass back down and clap your hands together, lifting them to your mouth as if you’ve just solved some complex mystery. “You’re the one who buys all my lemon cake!”

He shakes his head — no malice in the gesture, his grey eyes twinkling with amusement. “Is that a question or an accusation?”

“Definitely an accusation,” you answer, knowing without a shred of doubt that your assumption is correct. Of course, this also means that Osamu is telling the truth about his consistent ordering, but you’ll unpack that in a moment. “Every day I get an order around that time – the drinks change every now and then, but they always order a slice of lemon loaf cake. Always.”

“And yet, no loyalty programme for the cakes,” he sighs, “I get every seventh coffee free, but no stamps for the cake. Just heartbreakin’.”

“I’ll take your suggestion on board,” you acknowledge with a soft laugh, thinking back to how long those orders have been coming in and how many slices of cake that must equal - a lot, if your addition is anyway correct - and feel this pleasant, warm feeling flood your chest.

Guilt also starts to tug at you, but you can’t see the sense of dwelling on that emotion for too long.

Not when Osamu’s here, looking at you like that, professing his admiration for you not just as a business owner and an equal, but as a purveyor of baked goods as well.

The least you can do is buy the next round.

Two beers later and the conversation drifts back to the topic of work, but in a different way than before. This time, it’s more vulnerable; the struggles of getting started in the hospitality industry, the insecurities of your line of work, and how the ever-changing nature of the city landscape means your business plan might change overnight.

“I guess I, uh, kinda worry sometimes,” he admits quietly, looking down at the table and tracing circles on his glass with his thumb. “About this whole thing, runnin’ it by myself.”

“Worry about what?” you ask, hoping your question comes across as reassuring and not outright dismissive. “Your place is the busiest on the street from what I’ve seen. Definitely the most stable business at the event tonight.”

“Thanks,” he replies, eyes flickering up to yours again. His lips quirk upwards when you meet his gaze. “‘I ‘spose I just worry that it’s more from … name recognition, than anythin’ else. And I don’t like that.”

“Name recognition?” you inquire. “From your brother?”

He nods. “Tsumu’s - well, he’s not a celebrity, exactly, but he’s well-known around here, as much as it kills me to admit it,” he says with the ghost of a smile. “And I guess I just … don’t want people to be comin’ to my shop out of some sort of sympathy. Like they think I’m only runnin’ the place because I couldn’t make it in volleyball.”

Before you can think things through, before your brain can slow your muscles down and offer you the chance to think sensibly, you reach a hand over to rest on top of one of his. He doesn’t acknowledge it with words, but he lets go of his glass and rests the hand down on the table so you can properly clasp it.

He continues speaking before either of you has to address the impromptu hand-holding.

“And I know it’s stupid, right? Cos hey, as long as business is comin’ in, it makes no sense to complain. But yeah … that’s the worry, I guess.”

“I’ve never met anyone who thinks that about you, Osamu,” you say softly, ignoring the thrumming of your heart in your ribcage as you feel his fingers intertwine with yours. “And I certainly don’t, anyway. You’re just a talented guy who puts in a hell of a lot of hard work.”

He smiles again. “Is that why you’ve gone all mushy on me? Ya like my work ethic?”

“Shut up,” you scoff, a little petulantly, “being nice to you isn’t mushy.”

“I’m a fan of mushy,” he clarifies, tracing slow circles on the back of your hand, “if that helps things.”

It does, and you show him as much by tugging on his hand, tilting your head towards the door to show your intentions.

Osamu pays the bar tab while you collect your things. A taxi is called, goodbyes are said to the bar staff, and for the second time tonight, you leave together.

Though this time, you know exactly how it’s going to go.

___

Osamu’s hands on your waist are careful but firm, pushing you back against the door as soon as it closes behind you.

The ride to his place was only ten minutes long - all of which was spent making out like desperate teenagers in the back of the taxi - and now that you have some privacy and space to yourselves, you’re not sure how you can last even a second without touching him.

You can’t imagine a better kiss, and then he gives you a better one just moments later.

You arch into him, feeling him groan against your lips, looping your arms around his neck and pressing your chest against him to feel as close as possible.

The kiss goes from languid and passionate to heated and messy, and you let out a whimper when his tongue meets yours, licking into your mouth as you keen almost pathetically.

The varnished wood of the door feels cold against your shoulder blades and you shiver. Osamu notices, resting a hand on your nape to pull you towards him.

You fist your hands into the crisp fabric of his shirt. He smells incredible, clean and fresh, and you want to make his hair look even more dishevelled than it did after he ran his hand through it at the bar. What started as him trying to guide you away from the door has now turned into something that would be more accurately described as grinding — his hips are flush against yours, and you feel so desperately empty that you start to rock back and forth almost involuntarily.

“Do ya wanna-“ he mumbles into the shell of your ear once he pulls away, lips pink and kiss-swollen, voice torn and almost desperate, “- want to go to bed?”

You can think of nothing in the world you’d want more.

Your nod comes instantly, so enthusiastic that it should be embarrassing but it isn’t, and he takes your hand in his once again and leads you to his bedroom.

His surprisingly neat, very organised bedroom.

But you don’t have time to survey your surroundings too much because before you know it, Osamu is guiding you to lie down on his dark-grey bedspread, caging you in with his strong arms.

He leans over you, covering your body with his, peppering soft kisses to your jawline and whispering sweet praise into your ear.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted ta do this?” you hear him say, and you grin lazily as you finally run your fingers through his hair. “How long I’ve tried ta build up the courage ta ask you out? To have you like this underneath me, making those pretty lil’ sounds fer me?”

Warm, liquid heat starts to collect in your stomach, and you suddenly feel that you’re both wearing too many clothes.

You reach for the buttons of his shirt and feel his lips curl upwards against your neck. You undo his tie before starting to unbutton the rest, exposing more and more of the hard muscle of his chest. Not content to let you do all of the work, he paws at the back of your dress until he finds the zipper, lifting your back off the bed for a moment as he unties it.

Osamu sheds the rest of his clothes as you shrug the dress and your underwear down your legs and onto the floor. When he leans over you again, you notice he’s hard; you feel exactly how hard he is when his cock presses against your stomach. He grabs your tits, squeezing them and playing with your nipples as you moan more wantonly than you thought possible.

You’re not usually this vocal, but he seems to draw it out of you.

Things escalate quickly, or maybe they don’t — you can’t really tell how much time has passed. All you know is his broad frame engulfing you, the pretty words he’s whispering, and the feeling of his fingers as they dip into your underwear and run through your folds, your body growing warmer and warmer under his touch.

You gasp - gasp audibly, your voice weak and thready - as he circles your clit, feeling how wet you are and slipping two fingers inside you moments later.

Your entire body shakes, trembling as he starts to move his hand, and you can hear how he’s working you open. The thrusts are steady and careful, his fingers curling in a way that makes your words slur - a string of ‘Osamu, Osamu, right there, please, please, fuck’ on repeat until your mind stops working - and you feel yourself dripping down his wrist.

Osamu looks delighted. When he’s not kissing you or rutting gently against your thigh for some relieving friction, he’s propped up on his other arm and just looking at you, taking in every lip bite and flinch and the way your hips cant upwards when he switches to a new angle.

He looks like he’s having even more fun than you are, which seems impossible since you’re practically on fire, that ball of heat growing and burning and getting more intense until –

“Fuck, Osamu, I’m coming,” you gasp, rocking against his hand as he fucks you through it, feeling it ripple through you for what seems like hours.

Your eyes screw shut as you come but when you finally gather enough strength to open them again, you see him admiring you with blown-own pupils, his cock rock-hard and leaking against his stomach.

“Need you,” you just about choke out the words, your body feeling utterly weightless. You’re surprised at how soon you want to go again, still feeling the aftershocks pulsing from your core, but the way he’s looking at you now makes you want to lean over and take him in your mouth.

“Need me?” he mumbles, pulling his soaking fingers from your pussy with a lazy smile.

You want to laugh, smack him playfully and bite back with something like don’t let it get to your head, Miya, but your mind isn’t letting you get that far. Instead, all you can articulate is a broken-sounding;

“Need you inside me.”

Thankfully, Osamu doesn’t try and tease you any further. Your words ignite something in him; he pulls back on his haunches and grabs a condom from his bedside table before you can even blink, breathing out a low moan as you start to pump him slowly. He fucks into your fist, biting into his lower lip as he does so, hands resting on his muscular thighs.

He starts to leak into your palm and at that, he’s had enough of the touching, leaning back over you and kissing you in a way that knocks the breath from your chest.

He rolls the condom onto his length and positions himself at your entrance, the head of his cock nudging your clit and making you whimper, and gives you one last look to make sure you’re ready for him – he’s not exactly small.

You nod, certain that if he’s not inside you soon, your core will start to physically ache.

He pushes inside you in one slow but fluid motion. It fills and stretches you in a way that you’ve never felt before and your thighs spread wider for him, needing to feel that sensation again and again. Once you’ve had time to adjust to his size, he starts to move, thrusts steady and firm.

It’s unbearably hot. Every movement, every touch, it all makes you feel as though you’re burning up underneath him. Judging from his expression, he feels the same.

If he seemed like he was enjoying himself before now, it pales in comparison to the look on his face at this moment; cheeks flushed, eyes fluttering shut as he swears under his breath, lips shining from having kissed you over and over.

He tells you exactly how good you’re making him feel: how your walls are squeezing him just right, how he’s imagined fucking you before but this is somehow better, how you’re so wet he wants to stay buried in your pussy forever. You want to reply but his thrusts are hitting too deep for you to form coherent sentences.

His hands are back on your waist, manoeuvring you easily since the pleasure has rendered you utterly boneless and pliant underneath him.

However, that all changes when you see him approach his peak - you can tell as much from the way his movements turn erratic, and the swears and praise start to flow out as if he has no control over it - and you decide to take charge. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him into you, gripping his shoulders and leaving little crescent-moon indentations in his skin.

He groans into your shoulder and comes deep inside you. He keeps thrusting into you; even in his fucked-out state, he seems intent to bring you to the edge along with him.

It works – you come again without warning, the build-up from before now entirely absent as the orgasm burns through you. You cry out, the sound barely muffled against his shoulder as you spasm around his length, your quaking thighs struggling to stay wrapped around his hips.

Cliche as it may sound, it’s unlike anything you’ve felt before.

You take a ragged breath, feeling your chest move up and down, your nipples grazing against his chest. His lips are still at your pulse point, kissing you gently.

Slowly, very slowly, you start to untangle yourselves. Osamu pulls out with a soft hiss, still half-hard, and you let your legs fall back against his bed. You lift a hand to your forehead, feeling how your skin is damp and flushed, and let yourself come back to earth as Osamu disposes of the condom.

He returns a moment later, laying down next to you on the bed, giving you a smile that is surprisingly but achingly affectionate.

Your heart skips triumphantly. You’ve gone from resenting him to liking him to really liking him in the space of a single evening, and there’s no denying how much you want him to keep smiling at you like this for the foreseeable future.

He cups your face with one of his large hands, and you can easily predict what he’s about to ask you next.

“Wanna stay over?”

You hum, pretending to think it over even though, once again, you know what your answer will be.

“I mean, it’s sensible – we share a commute,” he points out, and you can’t argue with him on that one. “Plus, I heard ya make decent coffee.”

You let out a weary sigh, oozing fake annoyance. “So that’s why you brought me over?”

“Nah, it’s just yet another point in your favour.”

Before you can say anything else, he brings you in for a kiss - tender this time, soft and careful - and as strange as it sounds, you find yourself looking forward to the morning after. And maybe the morning after that, as well.

There are definite perks to working three doors down from Osamu Miya.

#osamu miya x reader #osamu x reader #osamu miya x you #timeskip osamu miya x reader #haikyuu #may tries to write #timeskip osamu has taken root in my brain #those damn compression sleeves!!!#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader

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i-am-baechu · 1 year

Text

Genre: Head chef! Seokjin, Head baker! Y/N, strangers to lovers!, Ex- Namjoon!, Yoongi is their number one shipper, Jin is very obvious, fluff, romance, little angst, comedy, and smut

Summary: Seokjin is the head chef and owner of Empathy in the heart of Seoul. Everything was perfect until his head baker retired leaving him to scramble. His head waiter, Yoongi, brings in his friend for the position and Jin hires her on the spot. After her desserts become a sell-out on the first night, Jin becomes interested in the girl. Everyone needs a little spice in their lives....

Warnings: Namjoon is an asshole!

Authors note: Very fun to write!

“Spicy beef bone soup with extra rice for table 6!”

Kim Seokjin hit the bell as quickly as he could and went back to his pan to saute his onions. It was a busy Saturday and everyone was at Empathy for dinner. Nothing new to him. He felt blessed that in his late thirties he achieved his childhood dream, well his second dream. The first dream was to get married and so far, that hasn’t happened yet. He wasn’t looking for anyone. If it happens then it happens was his mindset.

He placed the onions on the plate with the ribs and he looked up towards his head baker, Levi Cooner, “Levi, did you finish the black forest cake for table 20!?”

“Placing the cherry on now, chef.”

“Alright, is the carrot cake about done for table 2?”

“Yes, chef. In about ten minutes.”

Jin nodded and picked up the plate of ribs and hit the bell. He smiled when he saw Yoongi making his way to the plate, “Still busy, Yoon?”

“Yeah, too many people...it’s annoying.”

Jin let out a small laugh and shook his head, “You work at a restaurant, there’s going to be people no matter what.”

“Yeah, that’s the annoying part, chef boy.”

He grabbed the plate and left the kitchen with Jin seeing the tall silver doors flapping away. He let out a quick sigh and turned towards his workers with a smile, “We’re doing great this dinner rush! Let’s keep it up!”

“Yes chef!”

Jin went inside his office to check out the financial part for the day so far. He hated numbers but he didn’t want to call Jungkook for help. He always acted so smug towards him because it was clear he was good with numbers. He would hope he was good at numbers, he’s a banker afterall. He turned on his computer and went into his program with his radio playing in the background. He liked listening to the gossip in the restaurant world, it made him laugh during his down time, “And what is your name?”

“Umm...my name is L/N Y/N...”

“How do you feel about the famous pastry chef Isaac calling it quits?”

“Eh? He didn’t quit, he’s literally my mentor.”

Jin raised his eyebrow and glanced at the radio, “chef Isaac...Isaac...Oh, Isaac Kristiansen. There’s no way he would retire, he’s a teacher? That’s funny.” Jin leaned forward and turned the radio up and leaned back into his chair.

“But the rumors-”

“I mean I wished the rumors were true. He made me make these chocolate figures at five in the morning but sadly no, he’s not quitting.”

“Is this an official statement, Mrs. L/N?”

“Official statement? I just wanted to get coffee...I guess it's a statement. An official statement though, I’m not the president or the queen so no. Have a good day.~”

“Wait, Mrs. L/N!”

Jin let out a small laugh and shut off the radio. He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced back to his computer, the numbers were doing good but the desserts were lacking in sales. It was the fourth week in a row that he saw the decrease in it. He sighed and heard a knock on the door, “Come in.”

The door opened to reveal to his Executive chef, his brother with a small smile, “Why are you in here?”

“Just checking on the sales.”

Seok Joong raised his eyebrow and let out a low laugh, “Didn’t I tell you to stop doing that. You’re needed out here, worry about the numbers later.”

“But hyung-”

“No buts. Go cook.”

Jin pouted and nodded his head. He put his computer to sleep and walked away from his desk. He looked at Seok Joong with a raised eyebrow, “Wait, why are you here? You have a newborn.”

“Wanted to check on you, little bro. Also my wife wanted cheesecake and started crying for it, so...here I am.”

“Ah, okay. Hurry up and get it so you can go back to her.”

Seok Joong nodded his head and ruffled his brother's hair, “You go cook, that’s where your heart is. Not on numbers. You failed math.”

Jin glared at him and slapped his hand away, “I failed twice...that’s it. Go get your damn cheesecake.”

Later that night, everything was closed and Jin was in his office. Going through all the reports for that day. The light above him turned on and he jumped in his chair to see Yoongi leaning against the door frame with a lit cigarette in his mouth. Jin glared at him and looked back at his computer, “What did I say about smoking in my office?”

“I’m outside of it. Jimin and Taehyung are going to the bar, are you going?”

“No, I have to finish this report? Is Hoseok and Jungkook going?”

“Yeah, they are.”

“What about you?”

Yoongi let out a puff of smoke and shook his head, “No, I have to pick up my friend. She just got back from Norway.”

Jin raised his eyebrow and looked at Yoongi over his monitor, “You knew someone who went to Norway?”

“She was training there to be a pastry chef and shit. It’s been about...five years since I last saw her.”

“Is she your girlfriend?”

Yoongi choked on his smoke and glared at Jin, “No, don’t ever say that. She’s my best friend. Anyways, see you later.”

“See you tomorrow, Yoon!”

Jin waved towards Yoongi while Yoongi nodded his head at him. He watched Yoongi leave and looked down at this keyboard with a curious look, “Best friend...I never heard of her before...”

Yoongi parked his car in the parking lot of the park he used to play when he was younger. He got out of his car and shut the door, making sure it was all locked up. With his hands in his pocket he made his way into the park. He scanned the park and his eyes landed on the person he had to pick up. He rolled his eyes and made his way towards her, “Why the fuck am I picking you up here? You look homeless.”

She looked up and pouted at him. She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head, “This is where we first met, I thought it would be special if we met here again.”

“Chessy.”

“Oh but you love that.” She sat up and opened her arms wide to the man, “Give me a hug Yoongi!”

“Y/N shut up it’s night time.”

“Just admit you missed me...”

“Shut up.”

∘₊✧────✧₊∘∘₊✧────✧₊∘∘₊✧────✧₊∘

The morning sun burned Jin’s eyes, it was too early to be bright. He unlocked Empathy’s door and stretched his body. He quickly closed the door and headed to his office trying to wipe the tiredness from his eyes. He put his bags on the floor and turned his computer to go through emails. He couldn’t get any sleep last night, he was curious about Yoongi’s best friend. He didn’t have many friends so it caused him to be curious. He went through his facebook and instagram to see if there was anything about her but nothing. Yoongi was a private person and he barely posted on his accounts. He just wanted to know who she was and he didn’t really care if he looked crazy. How the hell did Yoongi have a best friend?

He shook his head and took out his water bottle from his bag, “I wonder if she's like Yoongi...oh god, having two Yoongi’s. I can barely handle one.”

Yoongi entered the restaurant as he let out a small cough. Jin immediately stood up from his seat and headed towards him. Yoongi wiped off the dust on his jacket and looked back up to see Jin looking at him with curious eyes. He raised his eyebrow at him, “Can I help you?”

“Who is she?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“How could you have a best friend?” Yoongi glared at him and walked past him as Jin went after him, “It’s just...you hate people.”

“She’s been my friend since I was in diapers, if anything she’s my sister. An annoying sister.”

Jin nodded his head and watched Yoongi place his things in his locker. He leaned against the wall and looked at the ceiling, “Is she older than me?”

“No, she's the same age.”

“Aww, so she’s your big sister.”

Yoongi felt his eyes twitch and looked at Jin with an annoyed look, “Why are you so curious about her?”

Jin shrugged his shoulders and looked at him, “I’m just shocked you knew someone outside our friend group...I was curious and then you said best friend, I had to know more.”

“She’s my best friend and she might come by today. I don't know though, she wanted to look at the local cafes, saying she needed to see the cakes.”

“Where is she staying?”

“With me.”

“Are you sure she’s not your girlfriend?”

“Jin, if you don’t move I will kick you in your nuts.”

The morning was slow but that’s how it always is. Lunch was when it almost always started to pick up. Jin was in the kitchen working on a sandwich when his phone started to buzz in his pocket. He sighed and hurried up to finish the sandwich, hitting the bell. He walked towards his office and picked up the phone, “Hello?”

“Ah, Jin.”

Jin raised his eyebrow and leaned against the wall, “Hyung, why are you calling me?”

“I’m just reminding you that next week, we’re having a family dinner. Eomma wants to celebrate Nora’s birth.”

“Eomma told you to do this, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, we all know how busy you’ve been. Anyways, see you later.”

“Bye.”

Jin sighed and rubbed the back of his neck roughly, “I forgot...shit.”

Y/N entered the busy atmosphere and her eyes widened to see Yoongi talking in a soft voice to customers. It was cute and it was rare for him to use that voice. She let out a small laugh and continued to stare at him with a teasing look. It wasn’t until Yoongi glanced at her and glared at her that she stopped staring and walked back outside. Yoongi quickly told one of the waiters what the table wanted and headed outside to see Y/N leaning against the wall.

“I’m shocked to see you.”

She tilted her head at him and raised her eyebrow, “I told you I would visit.”

“You said that you were going to look at the cakes, there’s no way in hell you saw all the cakes already.”

She let out a low chuckle and nodded her head, “You're right on that...I saw Namjoon.”

Yoongi's face softened and gently grabbed her hand, “Are you okay?”

“He didn’t see me but I saw him. He was with Eunah.”

“The fact he can walk around and feel-”

“Min-Min...”

Yoongi looked at her sad eyes and nodded his head, she hated talking about her ex, “I’m sorry. I just hate what he did to you.”

“He seems happy.”

“Y/N he doesn’t deserve happiness after what he did to you. Stop being your kind self and be spiteful for once.”

She rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms around Yoongi’s waist as he gently rubbed her back, “It’s not fair that he gets a happy ending...while I’m still affected by him.”

“Do you still love him?”

“Oh hell no. It just hurts, that’s all. It’s not because of love it's because, how could you do that to someone, does that make sense?”

“No it does...I can always call Jungkook to beat him up.”

She let out a small laugh and shook her head. She let go of Yoongi and stared up at the sky, “I need to see him. I missed my little bun.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes at the nickname (a habit that you’ve had since you were a kid), “He missed you too, trust me. Go see him, he’s probably at his apartment playing games with Jimin.”

“Bun and chicky...Okay, I’ll go see them. I’ll see you tonight at dinner? Taehyung wanted to plan it.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you tonight. Text me when you get to Jungkook’s.”

“Yes, sir.”

He watched her go back to her car and let out a small laugh. She was annoying but he sadly loved it. He walked back into the restaurant heading to the kitchen to get a quick sip of water. Jin put his noodles in the boiling water and went to Yoongi, “Where did you go?”

“I was talking to someone...”

“She was here!! And I missed her!!”

Jin went to go into the dinner room but Yoongi grabbed the back of his chef jacket, “She’s not there. She went to Jungkook’s to say hi.”

“Wait, she knows Jungkook!?”

“Yeah, she babysat him when we were younger. Jimin also loves her.”

“What the hell!? Does the whole group know her!?”

Yoongi shrugged his shoulders and placed his bottle back into his locker, “You and Hoseok are the only ones that haven’t met her.”

“That’s not fair, Yah! Yoongi stop walking away from me!”

∘₊✧────✧₊∘∘₊✧────✧₊∘∘₊✧────✧₊∘

Jin sat in his office a couple of days later, with a stressed out look. Levi, dropped a bomb on him last night. He was retiring and it was his last night. Jin was stressed (so stressed that he started cooking Italian food, something he only does when he's stressed). Today was Friday, meaning that it was going to be busy at dinner which also means, people want desserts. Guess what he doesn’t have, a fucking pastry chef or even a head baker. He now understood why Yoongi smokes.

He took a sip of his coffee and roughly ran his fingers through his hair when a knock on his door. Speaking of Yoongi, “Yoon, I can’t handle your sarcasm right now.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrow and leaned against the doorframe, “Why, what’s wrong?”

“Levi, retired.”

“Oh...that sucks.”

Jin let out a laugh and looked up at Yoongi, “Yeah it does suck. Thanks for reminding me of that.”

“I can ask my friend to come over and help.”

Jin stood up from his chair and looked at Yoongi with wide eyes, “Y-YOU WOULD DO THAT FOR ME!”

Yoongi flinched at his loudness and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Lower your voice.”

“Sorry, you would do that for me, Yoon?”

“Yeah, I can just text her right now. She’s just at my apartment playing with Holly.”

Jin smiled and walked up to Yoongi as the younger man looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Jin went down to his knees and wrapped his arms around Yoongi’s waist, “Thank you Yoon!”

“I will report this to HR in five seconds.”

Y/N entered the empty restaurant and looked around for her friend. She entered the kitchen and looked around the fancy kitchen. Everything was shiny, Isaac’s kitchen was old but damn did it cook shit good. She continued to walk further into the kitchen until she ran into a hard chest. She felt herself getting flushed and looked up to see a handsome man with warm brown eyes, “I-I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking, I was looking for Min Yoongi.”

“Oh, are you his friend?”

“Yes, I’m L/N Y/N.”

Jin eyebrow raised and tilted his head at her, she was so tiny compared to him. Her hair looked soft with the way she styled it and her eyes captured him completely. She was really fucking pretty. He let out a small cough and nodded his head as he rubbed his neck, “Yoon-Yoongi is near the lockers. Let me show you.”

“Oh thank you...what’s your name?”

“Kim Seokjin but you can call me Jin or chef.”

“Chef Jin...I like Jinnie.”

His face felt red and he quickly turned around so she couldn’t see the blush on his face, “Follow me.”

“Okay Jinnie.”

Jinnie, how can she call me that with a straight face? Jin shook his head and glanced over his shoulder to see her looking at him with a raised eyebrow. He quickly let out a loud cough and started walking causing her to laugh a bit. They walked towards the front and turned a corner where she saw Yoongi drinking from his bottle. She ran past Jin and went to Yoongi.

“Min-Min, you woke me up! Since I’m the baker for you tonight, are you going to try my stuff now?”

Yoongi raised his eyebrow and put his bottle back inside his locker, “As long as it’s not burnt, then yes.”

“I burned one cake, I was ten!”

“It was still burnt.”

Jin tilted his head at the scene before him. It was weird to see Yoongi like this. He was still his hard-headed self but he was somehow softer? The woman before him can make Yoongi softer, she has to be a witch. Jin let out a small cough and she turned to look at him, “I’ll show you the menu. Its-”

“Oh...I made my own menu.”

“Eh? Can I see the menu?”

She nodded her head and opened her purse with excitement. She took out a piece of paper and handed it to the chef, “I made it as soon as Yoongi called me. I just got so excited to come and bake.”

Jin smiled at her and looked at the paper; (Queen’s Garden) Apple tart, tart crust that has rose syrup glazed around the rims. Apples in the shape of roses in the middle with honey, lemon, and a pinch of rose. To finish it off, the plate will have rose petals on the side of the plate.

(Cloud 9) Souffle Pancakes with red bean paste; two souffle pancakes stacked on each other with maple syrup barely coating the top with a dollop of homemade honey butter. To finish it off, whip cream with two sesame seed tuile in the cream and edible flowers. Extra honey butter on the side.

(Tangy Tang) Lemon semifreddo with a raspberry curd; the first layer; pralines, the second layer (ice cream layer) meringue and heavy cream, the third layer; genoise, and the fourth layer raspberry curd. To finish it off, zest from a lemon and dried lemon slices.

(Checkmate) Vanilla and chocolate checkerboard cake; chocolate and vanilla sponge cake, chocolate ganache, and a vanilla bean whip cream. To finish it off, a chocolate rose

Jin glanced at the paper and then back at Y/N, “Isn’t this difficult?”

“It’s basically the same thing I did for chef Issac when he was my mentor.”

His eyes widened and looked at her, “CHEF ISSAC WAS YOUR MENTOR! YOU'RE HIRED”

She blinked her eyes and slowly nodded her head, “That’s why I was in Norway.”

He blinked his eyes and looked between the paper and her, “Y-Your amazing!”

She let out a small laugh as she wasn’t used to being flattered by a handsome guy, “Thank you, I do try my best.”

Yoongi glanced at Jin and let out a small laugh. He shook his head, shut his locker and started to walk away from them, “Y/N, follow me so I can show you my station.”

“Okay, Min-Min.”

Jin watched her leave and she turned back to give him a quick wave. He felt his heart beat faster at her smile. He quickly turned away and slapped his cheeks lightly, “You just met her...stop it.”

Yoongi showed her the workspace and looked at her with a small smile, “So, what do you think of my boss?”

“He’s very animated. That’s fun.”

He let out a small chuckle and nodded his head, “I guess you can say that. Is that a good thing?”

“It’s good, I like it. It’s the opposite of you.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes and looked down at her menu, “I want to try cloud 9.”

“Really? Awww, Yoongi, you want to try my food~.”

“Shut up...yes I do.”

The morning quickly turned into night and that means the dinner rush is coming. Jin was extremely nervous about this one because Y/N was here. He did not doubt her ability, it was just her being her that made him nervous. All day she was giving him bits and pieces of her dessert and they were the best thing he has ever tasted. The way it just melted in his mouth and exploded with flavor, it was amazing. The thing that made him nervous was her smile. The way she would call him Jinnie, it was fucking cute. She was cute and he couldn’t focus. So, he moved her station to be behind him instead of being in front of him.

He was cutting his chicken in the midst of the rush when Yoongi came in with a smile. Jin raised his eyebrow at him, “What’s going on?”

“I got so many orders for Y/N’s desserts.”

“What!? There have barely been orders for dinner.”

“Aren’t you happy that people want the desserts? You kept telling me it wasn’t selling and now look.”

Jin nodded his head and glanced over his shoulders to see Y/N whistling to herself while whipping cream and mixing her curd. It’s been a while since the desserts were a hit with everyone, even the staff liked them.

“Jin? Did you hear me?”

He stopped looking at Y/N and looked at Yoongi who had a small smirk, “What did you say?”

“I said, how about you tell Y/N her desserts are doing good. I have to go back outside.”

Before Jin could say anything, Yoongi walked out to the floor. Jin sighed to himself and rubbed the back of his neck. He slowly turned around and saw Y/N trying some whipped cream. He was at a standstill. The way he licked her lips as the white cream coated her lips, was a sight to see. He let out a small cough and walked up to her making her look at him with a smile, “Hey Jinnie.”

“H-Hey. Your desserts are doing good, people ordering your stuff more than my own food. Good job.”

“That’s good, I’m glad people like my desserts. Did you like them too?”

He let out a small laugh and nodded his head, “My favorite is Tangy Tang. I like the bitterness and sweetness, it’s a well-balanced dessert.”

“Thank you, it means a lot hearing it from you.”

Jin smiled at this and leaned against the counter. He nervously scratched his forehead and looked at the whipped cream, “I was wondering...next week I have a party with my family. Would...I mean can you...no, can you please make the desserts for the party?”

“A family party? Is it for an engagement? That’s the only time my family gets together.”

“My brother just had a daughter, Nora.”

She placed the dried lemon slices on top of the semifreddo and smiled to herself, “Aww, a baby. I’ll make some cupcakes for you guys.”

“Well, I was wondering if you could...if you could stay for the party with me?”

She glanced up at him and gave him a teasing smile, “Like a date?”

“I-I mean if you want...I’m not-”

“I would love to, Jinnie.”

“Really!? I mean, that’s cool. Alright, I’ll go to my side to make some chicken or whatever I need to make.”

He turned around and whispered to himself a small yes. He went back to his station and glanced over his shoulder to see Y/N already looking at him. She gave him a small wave and went back to what she was doing. Yoongi leaned against the wall and smiled to himself, at his planned work.

∘₊✧────✧₊∘∘₊✧────✧₊∘∘₊✧────✧₊∘

Y/N sat in Taehyung’s living room as she watched Jungkook and Jimin play their game. She wasn’t sure what they were playing but it was more entertaining to watch them argue than the screen. It was the third night that she worked at Empathy and everything was going well. Well, somewhat good. It wasn’t until Yoongi rushed to his locker and told her that he saw Namjoon with Eunah. She asked for the night off and Jin was nice enough to let her.

She sighed and took a sip of her water with a frown. She hated Namjoon but there was a time that she loved him. She was with him for seven years and was engaged for two. He was her college sweetheart and everything was perfect. They were even planning their wedding but it wasn’t until Yoongi walked in on a conversation between Namjoon and at the time her best friend Eunah talking about taking the money from the wedding and running away. She let Yoongi and Jungkook punch him and after that, she left for Norway.

Seeing him still made her angry but she wasn’t in love with him anymore. In the first two years of being away, she finally came to that conclusion. Taehyung placed the plate of chicken on his coffee table and looked at Y/N with a concerned look, “Are you alright?”

“I’m...thinking.”

“That’s good, especially for you.”

Taehyung sent a small glare to Jungkook and looked back at Y/N, “About what?”

“Namjoon.”

Things got quiet in the room and the game was long forgotten. Everyone looked at her with concerned looks as she looked at the water drops going down her glass, “Noona, you shouldn’t think of him.”

“I know, I just...I don't know what to do. I want to hit and scream at him but that wouldn’t do anything for me. I really want to slap Eunah though.”

Jimin let out a small chuckle and nodded his head, “That makes sense. I think we would let you do that.”

“Noona we should go out.”

She raised her eyebrow at Jungkook and tilted her head, “Where?”

“Let’s go to the bar like how we used to!”

“You guys know I don’t really drink.”

“Jin-hyung has this low-key bar we can go to.”

Y/N turned her head towards Jimin with wide eyes, “Jinnie owns a bar?”

“It’s a small bar...Also, Jinnie.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and looked at the wall, “Yes, I already gave him a nickname...would he be there?”

“I can always text Yoongi to bring him to the bar-”

“NO DON’T DO THAT!”

“I can say that Y/N specifically wanted him to be there.”

“Don’t-”

“Already did it.”

She whipped her head and looked at Taehyung with her mouth open, “You betrayed me...”

“You need dick.”

“I DO NOT!”

The group moved to the bar with Y/N sitting at the edge of the table with a nervous look. Why would she be nervous? It’s just seeing her boss in a bar, that’s a problem. If she liked her boss then this can raise concerns with HR. Hopefully this is just a dumb crush that can be easily washed away. Jin was handsome and charismatic, he was also funny. All the traits you would want in a person. It’s only been three days and he made her feel nervous but she knew how to hide that. Hopefully Yoongi didn’t notice her actions.

“Sorry we were late.”

She looked up and she stared at Jin who was already looking at her with a smile. He was wearing a suit and it made him look more mature, something she thought was hot. He even had glasses on, how could he be so hot under this bar lighting. She shook her head and stood up to give Yoongi a hug, “I missed you...”

“Are you alright? Jimin told me you were thinking.”

She let out a low laugh and nodded her head. She glanced at Jin who was talking to Jungkook, “I’m fine now.”

Yoongi followed her eyes and smiled to himself, “He missed your desserts today.”

“Who?”

“Jin. Go talk to him, since you wanted him here so bad.”

“Shut up.”

She walked past Yoongi and he let out a laugh when Taehyung came up to him, “She’s clueless.”

“Yeah, she is.”

She walked up to him and Jungkook immediately walked away so they could have alone time. Jin smiled at her and took a sip of his beer. She smiled at him and leaned against the wall, “How was today?”

“It was busy but people were sad that there was no dessert today.”

She bit her lip and nodded her head, “I’m sorry about that...”

“No, no. It’s fine. I was just wondering if you were okay.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just me giving people too much power.”

Jin raised his eyebrow and put his glass down, “Is it an ex?”

“Oh, an ex and an ex best friend.”

“Together, that’s even worse. I’m sorry Y/N.”

She shrugged her shoulders and looked down at his glass, “I’ve moved on...trust me, I have.”

He smiled to himself and glanced down at the table with a flustered look, “T-That’s good.”

The rest of the guys looked at them with smirks on their faces. Jimin looked at Taehyung with a mischievous look, “I bet you 50 dollars that they would be together by the end of the month.”

“I think three months and they won’t be together, just going on dates. Y/N likes to be courted, right, Yoongi?”

“Jimin, you're going to lose money but go ahead.”

∘₊✧────✧₊∘∘₊✧────✧₊∘∘₊✧────✧₊∘

Jin stood in his family home staring at himself in the mirror with a nervous look. He wanted to look good, Y/N was coming to head out her cupcakes and she was his date. He didn’t tell anyone that she was his date, he knew his family would make this a big deal and he didn’t want them to scare her away. He fixed his black shirt and walked downstairs to see his brother holding Nora. He smiled at the baby and opened his arms towards the baby, “Nora, want to come to uncle.”

Nora let out a small gurgling noise and showed off her gums. Jin’s brother smiled and handed the baby to him. Jin kissed her cheek and Seok Joong gave him a small smirk, “So, when is Y/N coming?”

Jin choked on his spit and looked at him with wide eyes, “How do you know about that!?”

“You do realize I have Yoongi’s number right.”

“That bas-”

“Don’t finish that sentence Jin.”

Jin turned his head to see his mother glaring at him and he felt sweat forming on his forehead. His mother took Nora out of his arms and gave the little girl a kiss on the forehead, “Dawon wants to see her baby, behave boys.”

Seok Joong let out a small laugh and watched their mother leave. He leaned forward with a small smirk, “So, how do we feel about Y/N?”

“S-She’s cute.”

“Yoongi told me you tried helping her with her cakes. You hate baking.”

Jin rolled his eyes, “I never said I hated baking.”

“Jin, you burn everything when you bake.”

“Yah! Stop it.”

Seok Joong frowned and pointed his finger at him, “If you're serious about her, you need to figure out her position in the restaurant. She’s your employee, remember that.”

Jin sighed and nodded his head, “I know hyung, it’s just a crush. I swear, it will go away.”

“Even if it doesn’t, just make sure you handle it before it gets worse.”

“It won’t get worse, hyung.” He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and he quickly took it out to see that it was Y/N telling him that she was there. Jin smiled but he quickly wiped it off when his brother gave him that knowing look, “It won’t get worse.”

Seok Joong watched Jin rush out of the room and shook his head, “It's gonna get worse, that boy is head over heels for her already.”

Jin opened his front door and smiled when he saw Y/N getting out of the car with boxes in her hand. He felt his chest get heavy when he saw her outfit, she looked beautiful. She was wearing a light pink cami dress with butterflies scattered around on the dress. Her hair was pinned back showing off her silver butterflies hoops and matching necklace. She looked up and waved at him, “Jinnie, can you help me?”

Jinnie shook his head and nodded his head. She looked beautiful but I can’t focus on that. She's much more than her beauty. He walked up to her and grabbed the boxes with ease, “You have so many boxes Y/N.”

“I didn’t know how many cupcakes you needed, so I made five boxes worth.”

“I appreciate this, Y/N. Thank you so much.”

She smiled and grabbed a colorful box, “No problem Jinnie. I get to spend time with you.”

He let out a nervous laugh and looked down at the colorful box with a raised eyebrow, “What's that?”

“I got Nora a plushie. It can be a weighted or warm plushie. I thought it could help your brother through the night.”

“Actually that could help, thank you. What kind of plushie is it?”

“It’s a teddy bear with a flower in its hand, I thought it was so cute.”

The two walked in the house and Y/N eyes met with an older woman's eyes. She looked at her with wide eyes and pointed at Jin, “You didn’t tell me you had a date.”

“Eomma-”

Jin’s mother came right up to Y/N and looked her up and down, scanning her. Y/N stood still and tilted her head at her, “Hello, Mrs. Kim, my name is L/N Y/N.”

“Oh, you're the baker that Seok Joong told me about. Very talented.”

“Thank you for thinking I’m talented, I appreciate it.”

Jin’s mother glanced at the boxes in Jin’s arms and then back at Y/N, “What’s all that?”

“Jin asked me to make cupcakes for the party and-”

“YAH! SEOKJIN! YOU MADE YOUR DATE DO WORK!”

Jin’s face turned red and shook his head, “Eomma, please don’t yell. It echoes.”

She shook her head at him and then back Y/N with an apologetic look, “I’m so sorry that my son is an idiot. Thank you for making the cupcakes, Seok Joong and Dawon will appreciate it. I see you have a gift in your hands, you're such an angel.”

Jin wanted die in that moment but Y/N let out a small giggle at her, “Thank you Mrs-”

“Call me eomma.”

“Thank you eomma.”

She clapped her hands and turned around to glance at the backyard. She looked back at Y/N with an excited look, “Let me introduce you to everyone. Yah, Jin, put those in the kitchen. We’ll pass them out after we introduce your date to everyone.”

Before Jin could say anything, they were out of his sight. He stood there blinking his eyes and sighed, “How the hell can she move that fast?”

Jin took the boxes and placed them on the counter like his mother told him. He glanced outside the window and he couldn’t help a smile appear on his face. Y/N was talking to his father while his mother was taking pictures of her. It was a cute sight to see. Seok Joong and Dawon glanced from their hiding spot and then they glanced at each other. Dawon smiled, “I think it's cute.”

“It’s cute...want to make a bet on them?”

“Of course, love.”

∘₊✧────✧₊∘∘₊✧────✧₊∘∘₊✧────✧₊∘

It’s been two months and Jin was in trouble. He liked Y/N even more, something he didn’t want to happen. He was her boss and this was inappropriate on so many levels. HR would kill him if they found out his feelings. He was having an inner battle, he wanted to date Y/N but he knew it was wrong. He was disappointed with himself because he took his business seriously and he didn’t want it to have a downfall because of his selfishness. It would ruin so many lives.

Jin sat in his car, running his fingers through his hair roughly. He couldn’t let this turn into something more, he was her boss. Also there was no way that Y/N liked him. It wouldn’t make sense. Tonight, Yoongi invited him to a club and he accepted without thinking because he heard that Y/N was going. He was annoyed that he accepted because he needed to stop being around Y/N outside of work but he couldn’t help it. She was just so addicting.

He sighed to himself and got out of his car with confidence. He entered the club and headed up to the VIP room. Hoseok always hooked them up at his clubs and this was no different. He went up the stairs and his eyes landed right on her. She was wearing a glitter bodycon dress with her hair in a ponytail, she looked hot. Jin wiped his hands on his jeans and walked up to them. The first one to notice was Hoseok, “Jin!”

The whole group turned towards them and gave him wide grins, the biggest was Y/N. Hoseok came over and gave him a bro hug, “Sorry I was late.”

“No worries, you're here now.”

He waved at his friends and sat next to Y/N who gave him a smile, “Hey Jinnie.”

“H-Hey Y/N. How long were you here?”

“Only twenty minutes, you're not that late. Want to come with me to get a drink?”

“Umm, I’m actually driving so I’ll just get a red bull or something.”

“No worries, I just wanted lemonade.”

The two left the group and headed downstairs to get their drinks. There was so many people dancing and Jin was sure some of them were fucking on the dance floor. They made their way to the bar and they sat there waiting for their drinks. Jin glanced down at his shoes, not wanting to make eye contact with her, “Jin, are you okay?”

“I’m okay. Just have things on my mind.”

Y/N placed her hand on top of his, causing him to whip his head towards her, “You can always come to me, Jin.”

I can’t tell you why, “Thank you Y/N.”

“Y/N is that you?”

She froze for a second and then she took a look. Jin glanced over her shoulder and saw a tall handsome guy with blonde hair. He was dressed in expensive clothing and it was clear he had an ego, “Hey, Namjoon.”

“I haven’t seen you since-”

“Since you tried taking my money and cheated on me. Yeah, that’s what happens when you're a piece of shit.”

Jin glanced between them with an awkward look. Namjoon let out a deep chuckle and leaned forward towards Y/N, making her lean back into Jin’s chest, “You can’t let that go? It happened years ago, are you that obsessed with me?”

Y/N scoffed at this and she wanted to spit in his face but she held back, “Obsessed? I’m not Eunah.”

“So you remember my wife.”

“You're married? I guess you two truly belonged with each other. Two pieces of shit.”

Jin let out a snicker causing Namjoon to glance at him, “And who's this?”

Without a beat Jin wrapped his arm around Y/N’s waist and brought her closer, “I’m her boyfriend.”

Namjoon scoffed and shook his head, “I doubt it. She can’t get another boyfriend after me.”

“And why is that? Cheater.”

“She was in love with me, there’s no way she could move on.”

Jin wanted to punch him but he ignored that feeling. His hand rested on her hips and spun her around to have her face him. They looked into each other's eyes and the music in the club went silent. It was just them in the room with the lights dimmed. Y/N glanced down at his lips and he did the same, the two knew what they wanted. They slowly leaned in and Jin didn’t know who leaned in first but he didn’t care. Their lips connected and she cupped his cheeks as she turned her head to make the kiss deeper. His hands roamed down her back letting his hands touch her lower back. When they leaned away, they both looked into each other's eyes and she gave him a small smile.

A small cough brought them back and Jin looked at Namjoon with a smug look, “What?”

“That was inappropriate to do in front of someone.”

“Dude, you have a wife. Go to her instead of bothering my girlfriend, you look pathetic.”

Namjoon glared at him and scoffed at them both before leaving. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled, “Thank you...you know I’ve been waiting for you to kiss me.”

He looked down at her with wide eyes, “Wait what?”

“Yeah, I’ve been waiting for you to kiss me or I don’t know, ask me on another date.”

“Y-Your serious?”

“Very...”

Shit, “Are you saying...that you like me?”

“Yes, Jin. I do like you.”

“I-I...fuck. Y/N we can’t be together.”

Her eyes widened and let go of him by taking a step back, “You're not interested in me?”

“No! I mean no it's not that. I’m very interested in you. The problem is, I’m your boss. It would be bad for the restaurant, bad for business in general.”

“I understand...”

He wanted to grab her hand but he knew he couldn’t after his speech. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be sorry. I understand. HR would hate us. I’m going to head back upstairs, okay.”

Before he could say anything she basically ran from him. He glanced down at the counter and felt worse because she didn’t even take her drink. He cursed under his breath and took a sip of his red bull, “Fuck.”

Jin felt like shit. He felt like fresh dog shit before someone stepped on it. Y/N acted completely professional with him and he hated that. It’s been a couple of days since their talk and things were sad, well for him it was. Y/N was acting the same with everyone else but him. She would become stiff and call him chef or Seokjin, he fucking hated it but this is what had to happened. If he wanted to be selfish, the restaurant could’ve been shut down and everyone working there would struggle.

He was at his office typing away his reports when his door slammed open. He jumped in his seat and glared at the person, “Yoongi, what the hell?”

“I should be the one saying that, chef.”

Yoongi leaned against the door frame and let out a puff of smoke. Jin sighed and looked back at his computer screen, “What do you want and why do you seem angry with me?”

“You broke her heart.”

Jin stiffened at this but it was only for a second. He hoped Yoongi didn’t notice but he knew otherwise. He sighed and looked back at Yoongi, “I can’t go forward with her Yoongi. She’s my worker, it's wrong.”

Yoongi let out another puff of smoke and glared at him, “So, you were just leading her on?”

“NO! I would never do that...I just remember my position in power and how wrong it is. I really do like her Yoongi but it’s wrong.”

Yoongi nodded his head at this and sighed, “So...if she didn't work for you..you would date her?”

“I-I mean that would solve the problem...but yes I would date her. I doubt she would do that, she loves her job here and I’m not going to force her to do that. It’s wrong on my end to expect her to do that.”

“Okay...I’ll see you later.”

Jin blinked his eyes and watched Yoongi leave his office. He stood up from his chair and ran out, “Th-That’s it?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jin stood there in confusion and let out a deep sigh when Yoongi closed the front door. Jin rubbed his temples roughly, “Fucking hate my life.”

∘₊✧────✧₊∘∘₊✧────✧₊∘∘₊✧────✧₊∘

It was strange not to see Y/N at work. It felt like something was happening and everyone knew it but Jin. He didn’t want to ask Yoongi where Y/N was because that would be inappropriate especially since he knew his feelings towards her. He continued his routine but he couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder to look at her empty station. Jin was closing the restaurant and was heading to his car when he heard a soft voice. He whipped his head and saw her, “Y/N?”

She smiled and clapped her hands, “Hi Jinnie.”

“Y-Your calling me that again?”

She let out a small laugh and nodded her head, “Of course I am...I can’t call you chef anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t work for you anymore.”

Jin dropped his keys and his bag. He looked at her with wide eyes and mouth, “What are you talking about?”

“I gave my resignation to your brother and it became official today.”

“No, I won’t let this happen. You had a job-”

“Jin, I already started working at this bakery.”

Jin looked at her with shock, “What bakery?”

“Songbird.”

Jin's eyes sparkled and he ran up to her wrapping his arms around her waist, bringing her into a tight hug, “I’m so proud of you. That’s for elites.”

“I guess your girlfriend is elite.”

He backed away and looked at her with hope in his eyes, “You want to be with me still?”

“Of course I do...that’s why I left. I want to start something with you, Jinnie.”

Hearing her say this made Jin snap. He grabbed all the items on the floor and took her wrist. He ran to the restaurant unlocking it with his key and headed towards his office. Y/N let out a small giggle when Jin tossed his stuff on the floor of the kitchen as he kicked his door open. The giggle quickly turned into a whimper as her back hit the back of the door, “Do you really want to be with me?”

“Well, I wouldn’t just leave my job for nothing. I think you should consider yourself lucky.”

“You're lucky you're cute.” He pulled her into him by her hips and bent down to place his forehead against hers, “Would you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes but we should act like we're not dating in front of the guys because I overheard them making a bet on us.”

“Deal.”

He backed her up slowly to his couch until the back of her knees touched the soft fabric. He gently laid her down on the couch and he was glad he bought that extra large couch now. He hovered over her and smiled, “My girlfriend.”

He stared down at her with his dark brown eyes as she looked at him with a smile. He brought his hand up to gently cradle her face and Y/N gently nuzzled her head into his hand. He bent down and gave her that long awaited kiss. He moved down to her neck and gently nipped at her skin, leaving little marks. Her hands went straight to his broad shoulders, gripping on them like her life depended on it, “Can I take this off?”

“Might as well, I have nothing else to do.” He let out a small chuckle and threw the shirt across the room. His hands went down her skirt and looked up at her, waiting for permission. She smiled at this and sat up to palace a kiss on his forehead, “Yes, Jin. I really want to fuck you.”

He tossed the skirt somewhere and looked at her with a soft look, “You're so beautiful.”

His fingers barely touched the laced bra and she felt herself getting flustered. He leaned forward, pushing them both onto the couch. He placed kisses on her breasts and lightly licked her nipple through the fabric. She let out a small moan and gripped his hair gently. His fingertips touched her covered clit and she let out a small whimper, “Does that feel good?”

He pressed a little harder and she closed her eyes at the feeling, “Y-Yes.”

His large hands guided her underwear down her legs as she felt the cold air hit her skin. He kissed the inside of her thigh and up to her core before pressing his fingers on the outside of her pussy. He entered two fingers into her entrance and she let out a small whimper. He glanced up to her making sure she was okay and she gave him a sheepish look, “I-It’s been awhile.”

“Sorry I’ll be gentle.”

“No, just be yourself right now. You can be gentle another time.”

He nodded his head and started thrusting his fingers. She gripped the soft fabric as he continued his speed, “You look really hot, Y/N.”

He rubbed his thumb on her clit, pushing her to the edge but right before she could come, he moved his hand away. She let out a frustrated sigh and looked down at him, “You can’t play like that.”

“Sorry I just want to feel you around me.”

He stood up and took off his shirt and Y/N tilted her head at his body. She wasn’t expecting him to be so fit, I mean she shouldn’t be shocked she loved looking at his arms. He looked back at her with a smudged look, “You like what you see?”

“I do, I’m mad that you’ve been hiding this from me. You're sexy.” His face turned red and looked away from her, causing her to laugh. He took off his pants and underwear as Y/N watched with a small smirk on her face. She glanced down at his member and let out a low whistle, “Nice.”

“Yah! Don’t do that!”

He bent down kissing her again and at the same time unhooking her bra. He tossed the bra on top of his pants and spread her legs for him, “You know...You look hot like this.”

“Like what?”

“Under me.”

“That's good because I’m going to be under you a lot.” He rolled his eyes and lowered himself to give her small kisses on her neck. She rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him in, chest to chest. He felt how wet she was and let out a low goan as she rubbed his erection between herself, “Hurry up, chef.”

He entered her slowly, not wanting to hurt her. She threw her head back a bit and gripped his shoulders when he finally bottomed out, “You okay, Y/N.”

“Yeah...you're lucky I have that IUD.”

“Oh shit. I’m sorry Y/N-”

“Hey, just fuck me.”

Jin kissed her jawline and let out a groan when he started to thrusting. She closed her eyes as the pleasure took over, “Fuck, you’re so big.”

He thrusted in and out faster making her clench around him. She moved her head and gave him a deep kiss as she moaned into his mouth. He hovered over her and looked down to see her thighs jiggle around him and the sweat forming on her body. He looked back up and his hand traveled up her neck. His fingers went around her neck and he applied a light pressure. He continued to fuck her with the light pressure around her neck, “Fuck I’m almost there.”

“J-Jin, m-me too...”

She let out a loud cry as she came around him and feeling her walls clench around him caused him to come as well. He collapsed onto top of her as he kissed the side of her neck. They stayed like that for a few minutes until Jin let out a small chuckle, “Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck is right.”

He looked up at her and kissed the tip of her nose as she let out a small laugh, “My girlfriend.”

“My boyfriend~.”

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts jungkook #bts namjoon #bts seokjin #bts taehyung #bts jimin #bts yoongi #bts x reader #bts hosoek #Bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #seokjin #kim seokjin #seokjin x reader #bts seokjin x reader

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lawsend · 10 months

Text

Murder at Vista Heights Chapter 4

Series: Law’s End

Episode 1: Murder at Vista Heights

Fandom: The Royal Romance (loosely, there’s not much canon in here).

Pairings: None yet

Word Count: 3,070

Rating: MA

Warnings for series: adult themes, any given chapter may contain murder, violence, language, drinking, drug use, etc.

My other stuff can be found on my main blog @angelasscribbles here is the Master List.

The Italian Lighthouse restaurant wasn’t crowded yet and they were seated almost immediately.

“Thank you so much for meeting with us, Mrs. Haltom,” Riely greeted the older woman as they followed the hostess to their table.

“Oh, please, call me Stella!”

“Stella?” Riley slid a mirthful glance at Max, “Is that short for Estelle by chance?”

Stella lit up, “It is! How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.” She raised her eyebrows at Max.

Max shook his head, his cheeks pinkening a little as he pulled the older woman’s chair out, “I think Estelle is a lovely name.”

“It is a lovely name,” Riley chuckled as she sent a quick text. And an old woman’s name told ya!

Max was staring down at his phone as Stella introduced her granddaughter, Miranda, “We call her Mandy for short!”

“Ohhh,” Riley cooed, “Max and Mandy, I like it!”

“That’s-“ Max fumbled his phone onto the tabletop.

“Oh, no…we….we just met!” Mandy objected.

“Give him a chance, dear, he seems like a nice boy!” Stella patted her granddaughter’s hand as she leaned closer and stage whispered, “And he has a good job!”

Mandy’s eyes met Max’s with a long-suffering sigh, she mouthed, “Sorry!”

Max leaned back in his seat as he gave her a reassuring smile.

Once they had given their orders to the waiter, Riley started questioning Stella about what she had seen and heard, “Did you see anyone else with him today or yesterday?”

“Oh yes, dear!” Stella lowered her voice and in a disapproving tone told her, “That man always had a woman coming or going!”

“So, someone else was there today?”

“I can’t be sure about this morning, I left early to help organize the church rummage sale and then I had brunch with a few friends, but there was a young lady there last night.” Stella nodded as if she’d just delivered a great revelation.

“One you’ve seen before?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Do you know her name?”

“Not that I can recall. Mr. Hayes wasn’t very social with the neighbors,” Stella sounded deeply offended by this.

“Is this the woman?” Riley pushed her phone across the table to the other woman, open to a recent photo of Katie Sloan.

“No,” Stella shook her head, “That’s not her.”

“Oh! Well, can you describe this other woman?”

Stella launched into every detail she had ever noticed about the woman from her nail polish to her footwear as Riley furiously scribbled notes.

Meanwhile, across the table, Max and Mandy were conspiring in hushed tones on the best way to diffuse the situation with Stella.

“I’m sure you’re a perfectly nice man,” Mandy whispered, “but I’m already in a relationship.”

“You are?” Max yipped in surprise, his eyes flying to Stella before lowering his voice again, “Then why don’t you just tell her-“

“I’m in a relationship with another woman and I just haven’t figured out how to come out to her just yet. She can be a little….judgy….”

Max lifted his eyes again to take in Stella as she finished giving Riley the rundown of the woman’s attire and her opinion on it.

“I can see that,” he smirked, “So shall we just tell her we have a date next weekend then later you can tell her I was a total jerk or that I stood you up or something?”

“Oh, I like the way your mind works!” Mandy laughed.

Both conversations continued until the food arrived.

“…did you tell any of this to the police?” Riley asked as the waiter set a plate of manicotti in front of her.

“Oh dearie, no,” Stella gestured dismissively, “They only asked about the man shouting threats. No one ever asked me about the parade of young women that came and went.”

“Would you be willing to come down to the station and talk to the sketch artist again?”

“Oh, absolutely!” Stella agreed happily as she watched her granddaughter getting along with that delightful boy from the paper. Maybe if that didn’t work out, one of those friendly detectives was single.

Back at the seventh precinct, Leo sauntered into the room like he hadn’t a care in the world, “Hey little, bro. What’s up?”

“Take a seat please,” Liam gestured to the chair across from him then beckoned his partner over, “Flynn and I have a few questions for you.”

The smile on his face never wavered, “Ohhh, sounds serious!”

“It is serious, Leo! Could you please treat it that way?” Liam leaned across the desk and hissed, “I’m trying to help you!”

“What do I need help with?” Leo asked as he dropped into the chair and kicked his feet up on the edge of Liam’s desk.

Flynn knocked Leo’s feet off the desk as he walked by, “Trenton Hayes was found dead in his apartment earlier today.”

Leo locked his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair, “So?”

Flynn stood with his arms crossed glaring down at the blond man, “So witnesses overheard you telling him you were going to kill him just hours prior.”

“Oh, yeah,” Leo’s blue eyes twinkled with humor as he laughed, “I meant that shit too!”

“Leo!” Liam slammed a fist down on his desk, “You’re not helping yourself here!”

“So, you admit to threatening him?” Flynn pressed.

“I admit to threatening him,” Leo agreed.

“Jesus!” Liam exploded, “How can you be so cavalier about this?”

Leo’s eyes shifted from Flynn’s face to Liam’s, “Because I didn’t actually kill him. I only threatened to! Which you already know. Lying about it would make me look guilty, which I’m not! My DNA will be at the crime scene, but I’ve already admitted to being there, hours earlier! If I were going to kill him, why wouldn’t I have just done it then? If you have the murder weapon, my prints won’t be on it. If he was shot, which is the most common method of murder, the ballistics won’t come back to me.”

“Nice speech. Now back to the questioning,” Flynn checked his notes, “You told him to back off. What did you want him to back off of, exactly?”

“That’s between me and Trent….I mean, it was!”

“Well, he’s dead now, Leo,” Liam flipped a crime scene photo across the desk, “So you can see how that makes you our prime suspect…”

Leo shrugged expansively, “Yeah, Li, I know how it works. I was a cop, remember?”

“A corrupt cop, Rys,” Flynn gritted, “doesn’t exactly help your case.”

The smile faltered for the first time as Leo sprang to his feet and jabbed a finger at his brother’s partner, “Fuck you, O’Malley! You have no fucking idea what it’s like to be undercover in vice for two fucking years! I did what I had to do to survive!”

Flynn shoved him, “Your actions lead to a good cop getting killed!”

Liam bolted around the desk getting between them before things could escalate any further.

Leo tried to surge around his brother as he yelled, “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about dickweed!”

Flynn scoffed, “I know the two big rules are don’t use the drugs and don’t sleep with the target and you did both!”

“She wasn’t the target!”

“No, she was the target’s wife! You think that’s better?”

“Heather had nothing to do with-“

Bertrand’s voice boomed across the room, “What the hell is going on in here?”

“Nothing!” Liam shoved Leo away from Flynn and lowered his voice, “Stop!”

Leo threw both hands up in the air as he took a step backward, “I’m cool, talk to your fucking partner, he started that shit!”

Bertrand barreled down on them, the mayor right behind him, her white-blonde hair swept into an elaborate updo, a jade green dress hugging her curves, and her Louboutin heels echoing like gunshots as she easily matched his stride.

Leo’s face broke out in a wide-open grin when he saw her, “Hey there, Mads!”

Madeleine Amaranth colored from the top of her head to the tips of her toes at the all too familiar voice that both grated on her nerves and still, infuriatingly, sent shivers of desire down her spine.

She managed to control her face as she clipped frostily, “Leo.”

“That’s it? Leo?” He spread his arms wide, “No hug for your favorite ex-fiancée?”

“You’re not my favorite anything, Leo. Not anymore. You gave that right up when you went rogue.”

“Yeah, right, I remember. Your public image and political career over my little squabble with the CCPD concerning their false allegations and my wrongful termination.”

Madeleine shook her head, “I don’t have time for this. Bert, can we discuss the case in your office?”

“Certainly, right this way,” He glared back over his shoulder as they left, “I want an update in ten minutes!”

“Hey Flynn,” Liam gave him a pointed look, “Why don’t you go check with forensics and see if they’ve made any progress?”

Flynn’s gaze darted to Leo then back to Liam before nodding his head, “All right.”

Leo watched Flynn walk away, “Sorry, Li. I just don’t like that guy. He’s a dick.”

“He’s a good detective, Leo and he’s just doing his job. I had to beg to stay on this case. Everyone thinks you did it. I know you’re not a killer though so please help me prove it! I’m trying to help you, Leo! Give me something!”

Leo slumped in his chair with a resigned sigh, “What do you want to know?”

“What were you arguing with Trent about this morning? Were you fighting over Katie?”

“Not exactly…”

“Are you sleeping with her again?”

“What? No! Listen,” Leo ran his hand through his hair with a sigh, “She isn’t sleeping with me, and she wasn’t sleeping with Trent. He was blackmailing her…that’s what I was threatening him about! I wasn’t actually going to kill him; I just wanted him to back off!”

“What was he blackmailing her with and how did you find out about it? And why insert yourself in the middle of it in the first place?”

“I found out because she told me.”

“Katie told you she was being blackmailed?”

“Yeah, she came to me for help, and I wanted to help her out. You know, for old time's sake.”

Liam pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, “Why do you always let your dick get you in trouble, huh?”

“Hey!” Leo protested, “Katie and I are friends now!”

“Friends, right. What was he blackmailing her with?”

“Okay, so she was cheating on her husband…just not with me. Trent somehow found out about it and was using it to blackmail her. She paid him at first, but he kept demanding more and more. She was worried it was never going to stop.”

“So she came to you.”

“So she came to me.”

“She came to you because she knew you’d do anything for her,” Liam shook his head as he tried to control the inner turmoil seething inside him.

His half-brother came across as a self-entitled prick most of the time. It was a misconception that he actively fostered for some reason. The Rys money conveyed privilege and opened doors, but the Rys name, which had once commanded respect, had become synonymous with corruption, entitlement, and misconduct thanks to their father’s thirty-four-year stint as the most corrupt Sherriff in Lantano County history. For some reason, Leo tended to lean into that image.

Liam knew that his brother was actually soft-hearted, generous, and loyal to a fault. If he cared about someone, he would go to any lengths to protect them, and Katie Sloan had used that to her advantage.

“Listen, Li. I know you never liked Katie, but she’s not a killer! She didn’t do this anymore than I did!”

They were interrupted by Flynn’s return. He dropped a file in front of Liam as he perched on the edge of his desk, “Money transfers, big ones, into his account from one Katie Sloan.”

Liam picked up the manilla folder and flipped it open as he asked, “How many?”

“Four of them over the last few months.”

“That tracks with what Leo just told me about Trent blackmailing Katie.”

“Yeah?” Flynn raised an eyebrow, “Over?”

“She wasn’t cheating with him,” Liam said, “but she was cheating with someone, and Trent knew it.”

“Who was she cheating with?” Flynn asked.

“I don’t know,” Leo answered, “She never said, and I never asked.”

Liam’s eyes narrowed. He was lying. Turning his attention back to his partner he asked, “Did you find out who Maxwell Beaumont is doing work for other than The Ledger?”

“Looks like he has cashed a couple of checks from Walker and Sons Investigations,” Flynn answered.

Turning back to Leo, Liam said, “We can pull Drake or Jackson in for questioning, or you could just tell us who she’s sleeping with.”

Leo shrugged, “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A lab-coated man with warm terra-cotta skin, black hair, and deep oak eyes approached the trio, “I was told I needed to test a suspect for gunshot residue, and I have the ballistics report.” He handed a sheaf of papers to Flynn and turned toward Leo, “Wait…you’re the suspect?”

“Hey Rashad, what’s up?” Leo grinned as he extended his hands, “Yep. These idiots think I killed somebody.”

“The test will help exonerate you, Leo,” Liam said tersely.

“Right,” Leo’s eyes went to Flynn, “Because O’Malley is so interested in proving my innocence.”

“I’m interested in the truth,” Flynn told him as he passed the test results to Liam.

Leo scoffed, “You and I both know that if I did it, I’d have had ample time to wash my hands.”

“True,” Flynn agreed, “But I wouldn’t be much of a detective if I didn’t test my prime suspect for gunshot residue, now would I?”

Leo ignored him, focusing instead on the man carefully swabbing his hands, “How did you end up at the seventh precinct?”

“Transferred last year,” Rashad answered as he added the swab, and several drops of diphenylamine to a test tube.

“To be closer to your mom?” Leo guessed.

Rashad nodded as he held the test tube up to watch for any color change.

Leo’s attention moved back to Liam, “So what does the ballistic report say?”

“Nothing we didn’t already suspect. Nine millimeter matches the gun found at the scene. Registered to the vic.”

“The idiot was killed with his own gun?” Leo snorted.

“Yes,” Flynn replied, “And the gun was wiped clean so we couldn’t lift any prints. Something a former cop would know to do.”

Leo rolled his eyes, “Something any idiot who ever watched one episode of any crime show ever would know to do.”

“No gunshot residue,” Rashad announced, “Do you need me for anything else?”

“No, you can go. Thanks,” Flynn waved him off.

“Told you,” Leo smirked.

“Doesn’t prove you didn’t kill him, Rys.”

“Sure doesn’t prove I did!”

Bertrand’s voice cut through the argument, “Rys! O’Malley! I need that update now!”

“Coming, sir!” Flynn yelled across the room. Jerking his head toward Leo he asked, “What about him?”

“We have to cut him loose, Flynn, we have no real evidence and I’m vouching for him. He’s not going to leave town,” cutting his eyes to his brother he demanded, “Are you?”

“Nope,” Leo used his index finger to draw an x over his heart, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Fine,” Flynn grunted, “But see to it you don’t.”

Leo took to his feet and stretched, “Well boys, it’s been fun but-“

“Sorry to interrupt-“

All three men turned to find Riley striding toward the desk.

Liam was visibly startled, “Riley! What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to let you know that Mrs. Haltom saw a woman with Trent last night and it wasn’t…” she trailed off as her eyes landed on Leo, “the suspect we discussed earlier.”

A smile crept across Leo’s face, “Wow, the homicide detectives are much better looking at the seventh precinct!”

“Not a homicide detective,” Riley extended her hand, “Riley Brooks, investigative journalist.”

“You’re a reporter?” Leo’s grin broadened as he took her hand.

Liam audibly groaned, “No, do not make friends with her!”

Leo’s eyes tracked back and forth between Liam and Riley in amusement, “My brother talks to reporters now?”

“I do not talk to reporters!”

“You’re the brother?”

“You’ve heard of me?” Leo sounded pleased.

“A little. And don’t let him lie,” she leaned in and lowered her voice, “He talks to me.”

“I’ll bet he does.”

Riley shifted her attention back to Liam, “Any updates about the case?”

“If there were, I couldn’t tell you and you know that.”

“I, on the other hand, am free to discuss whatever the fuck I want. One of the benefits of being a civilian.” Leo interjected.

Riley’s head snapped back to him with renewed interest, “You have details about the case?”

“Leo!” Liam warned.

Bertrand’s office door opened again, “Flynn! Liam! I said now not next week!”

“Shit!” Liam pointed at Leo then Riley, “I mean it. No discussing the case!”

Riley watched as Liam and Flynn retreated to Bertrand’s office before turning back to Leo, “So…you have information about the case?”

“I do. And I’ll give it to you if you tell me what’s going on with you and my brother.”

“What makes you think anything is going on between me and your brother?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that flustered before.”

“All right. I was on my way to The Beat. It’s a bar where all the cops hang out.”

“I know what it is. Share a cab?”

“No need. My ride is outside circling the block. We couldn’t find a parking spot.”

Inside Bertrand’s office, Flynn answered the mayor’s questions as Liam glanced over his shoulder through the office window. His jaw clenched as he watched Leo drop an arm across Riley's shoulder as he ushered her out of the office.

He still had her number, didn’t he? He’d call her after the meeting was over. To find out what Leo had told her and to ask about the woman the witness had seen. Not because he was worried about his brother flirting with her. Not because Leo had a way of getting every woman he smiled at into bed.

He didn’t care about that at all. Right?

#trr au #trr au fanfic #writeblr #crime drama #angelasscribbles #Law's End #laws end #cordonia city #maxwell beaumont #liam rys #drake walker #riley brooks #trr fandom #trr fanfic #the royal romance #no canon #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

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inspiredwriter · 4 months

Note

Leonardo :*parado en el restaurante*(pensamientos💭) vamos Leo este día de San Valentín deber ser especial para Stefany 😊😁💖💘💞💗*mira su reloj* ya pronto será a las ocho Espero que llegue😄🥰⌚💕💝❣️

Stefany :*se acerca a Leo* hola tortuguita me arregle bien para nuestra cita el día de San Valentín🥰😊👗🩷💞💘💖

Leonardo :*mirá a Stefany y se sonroja* ¡Wooaah!~😳😍💓💘💝💞 te ves muy hermosa como siempre gatita 😏🥰💖💕❣️

Stefany :*se sonroja* jajaja pues gracias Leo tú también eres hermoso 😄😃💗💞💓💘* besa a Leo en la mejilla* Muah~😚💋💕💝❣️¿Qué hiciste para nuestro día especial? 😄🤭💓💕💘

Leonardo :*abraza a Stefany en la cintura* bueno reserve una cena en el restaurante de sushi para nosotros 😏😘🍣🥂🏪💖💞❣️es el lugar más romántico de la ciudad 😊😉🌃💝💕💘💗

Stefany : Oh que dulce de tu parte Lee 🥰😍💖🩷💕💝* abraza el brazo de Leo*(pensamientos💭) Espero que entremos quiero darle tu regalo especial para ti ☺️😀🎁💝💞❣️💕

***

Miguel Angel :*se detiene en el apartamento de Anastasia*(pensamientos💭) me alegra Donnie me prestó su auto para llegar a mi princesa a un lindo paseo por la ciudad 😏😁🚗🏙️💕❣️💞💖*toca la bosina*¡Ooooh nena tu príncipe está aquí~! 😄😉💗💘💕

Anastasia :*sale del apartamento* ahora mi príncipe estoy lista Para nuestras citas de San Valentín 🥰😃💘💖💕💞

Miguel Angel :*se sonroja con la boca abierta* ¡¡Oh concha~!!😳😍🌋💘💖💞💗 tú no eres Anastasia eres una diosa del amor que ha caído en el cielo por mi 😍😇💕💓💝

Anastasia : Gracias mi apuesto apuesto príncipe 🤭🥰💗💞💓💘*se sube el auto* bien amor A dónde nos vamos? ☺️😀💖💕❣️💗

Miguel Angel :*acaricia la pierna de Stefany* bueno nena vamos a dar un lindo paseo por toda la ciudad😏😘🚗🌃💕💖💝 susurra e Anastasia del oído*luego vamos lugar privado para hacer el amor en el auto 😈☺️🚙💓💘💞💖

Anastasia : Sin palabras cariño vamos😃😍💘💖💕💗* acaricia a Mikey en la mejilla* cuando lleguemos tengo un regalo que te gustará pero no puedo decírtelo🤭😉🎁💝💞❣️💓💕

@inspiredwriter

*At the evening*

*In a restaurant*

Stefany: My God, Leo, it's magnificent that we're having a romantic dinner on the roof😃😍🍣🥂💖🩷💘💞 *Sits down at the table*

Leonardo: *Pushes the chair* All the best only for you, my love😘🥰💓💖❣️💕 *Kisses Stefany on the cheek* Muah~😚💗💝💞 *Sits down at the table*

Stefany: *Wipes fork with napkin* Bon appetit to you, hunny😄😋🍣💗🩷💕 *Eats sushi*

Leonardo: Same to you, kitty😄🥰🍾🥂💘🩷💞 *Pours champagne into two glasses* (Thoughts💭) She doesn’t know yet that I booked a separate hotel room for us🤫😈🏩💘💓❣️💞

*In the forest*

Michelangelo: *Drives up on the hill and stops the car* Well, we have arrived at our destination, my love😄🥰💗🩷💖💕 Here we will admire the stars, eat party cake and..~😁😏💓💘💞 *Caresses Anastasia's booty* Do fun things~😈🥰💖💓❣️💕

Anastasia: *Blushes* Ah, Mikey, this is wonderful😳😍💗💝💞 How did you find such a beautiful place?😄💓🩷💖💕

Michelangelo: Well, when my brothers and I were on patrol in the forest, I found this hill and thought it would be a great place for a date with my beloved girlfriend😗🥰💘❣️💗💕 *caresses Anastasia's back*

Anastasia: *Snuggles up to Mikey's chest* Mikey, you're the best🥰🤗💖🩷💝💞 *Kisses Mikey on the lips* Mmmmuah~😚💋💓💘💞 Let's get out of the car and admire the starry sky😍😘💝💗❣️💕

*On the river*

Donatello: *Stands by the river* Where is my little mermaid?🤔🤨 I want this evening to be special for her😟🌌🌊✨

April: *Approaches the pier* Donnie, I'm here, my love😄🥰💖💝💘💞 *Takes Donnie's hands* Sorry for the delay, it took me a while to find the best outfit😅😘👗👡💗🩷💕

Donatello: *Blushes* Wow, darling, you look so brilliant that you just blind me with your beauty😃😍💓🩷💖💘✨ *Kisses April on the lips* Mmmmuah~😚💋💖❣️💝💕 Are you ready for a romantic boat ride?😏🌌🌊🚣‍♂️💗💝💓💞

April: Of course, sweetie😍🥰💖🩷❣️💕 *Holds Donnie's hand and gets into the boat*

Donatello: (Thoughts💭) I'll take her to the far shore, where there is a beautiful waterfall and we'll make love there😏😈🌅🌳🍃💗💘💕 *Unties the boat from the shore and takes the oars* We're setting sail, beauty~😁🥰🌊🚣‍♂️💖💓💞 *Sails away from the shore*

*At a rock concert*

Candy: *Jumps up with arms in the air* Woo, haha!🙌😙😃 Rock is alive!🤘😆🎸⚡ *Speaks to Raph in ear* Raphi, I think we have a slightly unusual date for Valentine's Day!😉😄💝💘💕

Raphael: *Hugs Candy's waist* It's not bad, the main thing is that you are happy my little pepper😏🥰💗💖💓💞 *Speaks to Candy in his ear* Besides, this is not the only surprise for tonight🤫😈💝🩷💕

@swagreecrow

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years

Text

The Bookstore 2

Warnings: None as yet.

Summary: A mysterious strangers comes to your bookstore.

Character: Jorah Mormont (Modern AU)

This is for my Jorah Bean, they know who they are ;) and to anyone else who likes this teddy bear. Darkness to come, promised. As well, as usual, as I so desperately beg of you, please let me know what you think. Love!

Cardinal’s Cafe is busy as you wait in line for your noon time cappuccino. You hoped to take a longer break from the store as your eyes were starting to get tired from squinting at your weekly sales spreadsheet. You could just go upstairs to your apartment above the shop but that only made it harder to go back.

You step up and take your mug from Doris. You forgot you said ‘for here’. You’re stuck now and there’s nowhere to sit. You back up and look around, drawn by subtle movement to your right. You glance over as your name lilts off the man’s tongue.

“I’ve a seat available if you don’t mind the company,” Jorah offers as he stands, an open palm towards the other chair at the table for two.

“Only if you don’t mind,” you answer sheepishly, “it’s packed in here, huh?”

“Please,” he comes around and pulls out the chair for you. It’s not entirely peculiar in the town of retirees.

You place your cup down and sit as his fingers unintentionally brush your sleeve. He steps around you and resumes his seat across from you, framing the saucer beneath his cup with his long fingers. You warm your hands against the sides of the porcelain mug and sniff as you look out the window.

“I was on my way to the shop actually,” he intones, drawing your attention back, “I finished the books. I think I underestimated my free time.”

“Oh? Any good?”

“The first was a fun romp but the second… not entirely a satisfying end,” he takes a sip of his black tea, “do you know if the food is any good here?”

“That’s kind of a subjective question but I don’t mind it. I tend to go more for the bakery but… I’m cutting back on all that.”

“Sweet tooth?”

“Deadly,” you confirm and dare a sip of your cappuccino, carefully not to singe your tongue.

“How about Medley’s? The restaurant?”

“It’s not bad,” you nod, “I mean, there’s not much choice around here, is there? As long as you have a strong stomach.”

“Oh?”

“It’s also the deli and they butcher their own meat. They’re hardly shy about it.”

“Ah, I will keep that in mind.”

“Pretty slow everywhere here,” you say, “I hope you’re serious about retirement.”

“Slow is nice. Safe,” he says as he leans back and fixes his lapel, “how did you end up here?”

You smile, “how do you know I’m not from here?”

“That could be an answer.”

You take another drink and eye the coffee cake in the display, wondering if it’s worth it to get up and order. “My grandmother owned the shop before me. Put my name on it herself. She needed a caretaker and I just finished uni at the time.” He listens intently, planting his elbow on the table and steepling his fingers beneath his chin, the soft fuzz grazing along his fingertips, “she had a couple years left but they were rough.”

“I’m sorry,” he says mournfully, “I know how hard loss can be.”

“It’s life,” you swallow your emotion. “I’m sure you know. What about you? You got a family in tow? A partner?”

His cheek dimples and he pulls his hands apart, showing his left and wiggling his bare ring finger, “never got to that part. Just me. Lonely old man.”

“Free,” you correct him, “means you can just do whatever you want.”

“And you? Are you… free?”

Your brows nearly meet as you consider his question. It’s harmless. At least twenty years between you, he’s being polite. Like Ruth does when she asks about your love life. If you can call it that.

“Was in something long-distance for a while. Didn’t wanna leave the shop so that’s that,” you tap your fingers on the handle of your mug, “so guess I am too.”

“We should start a club,” he kids, “we don’t have to quilt or anything.”

You can’t help but chuckle and give another longing look to the case of cakes and pastries. Your mouth waters and you drown the temptation with a taste of espresso.

“Looks good,” he comments and you guiltily retract your stare.

“What?”

“The cake.”

“Like I said, cutting back.”

“Yes, you did, but it’s okay to still have some.”

“Don’t tempt me, please.”

“Ah, but it’s fun,” his blue eyes gleam.

You shake your head, “really, I’m not–”

“Oh, you must be the new one,” you’re interrupted as Diane blusters over from the counter, “well, look at you. How dashing, you are!”

You look up as she gives a flirty smile and slurps from the plastic lid. Diane’s the type to fill the shop with her voice as she recounts the filthiest gossip. You glance at Jorah as he maintains a courteous veneer.

“Hello,” he says evenly.

“But I see you’ve already hopped on the young one,” she sneers, “bit old, aren’t ya?”

“Di,” you warn, “we’re just talking.”

“Right, right, I’ve not even introduced myself. Diane. I run the local book club and the founder’s lodge.”

“Founder’s lodge?” Jorah wonders though hardly sounded interested.

“Yes, very exclusive. We arrange local events. We’ve had art installations and the like. We also run the Christmas market.”

“Fun,” he muses dully and empties his cup.

“You didn’t tell me your name, handsome?”

“You’ve not stopped talking about yourself long enough to let me,” he stands and wipes his mouth with a napkin, “if you’d excuse us, we were having a conversation before you waltzed in. I’m certain you’ve got some important task to do for the Founder’s Lodge or what have you.”

“Why I– Oh, feisty.”

“If you would,” he gestures past her, “I’d like to get through.”

“I am being polite, sir, the least you can do is tell me your name,” she says, aghast.

“Polite isn’t interrupting a stranger, now if you would kindly move, I would like to claim that last slice of cake,” he waits only a moment before stepping around her decisively.

She juts her jaw out at the affront and scoffs. Her eyes fall on you and she sniffs, “hm, he must be rich, eh? Just like nana.”

She spins, spilling some coffee on herself as she storms towards the door. There’s some chatter as the door chimes and you peek over at Jorah as he stands unaffected in line, coolly taking out his wallet as he moves up to the till. Well, you don’t expect you’ll be hosting any book club meetings at the shop soon.

#jorah mormont #drabble #dark jorah mormon #jorah mormont x reader #dark!jorah mormont #game of thrones #au #dark drabble #dark!drabble #modern au #series

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gloryride · 6 months

Text

WIP WHENEVER

I was tagged by @alphanight-vp @chevvy-yates @just-a-cybercroissant @rosapexa thank youuuuuu !

I have things but not visuals, just ideas and talking.

>> VP

I have anything to show, the last big project was the CP Birthday and took all my energy. I cleaned up my vp idea and i have ... 72 lines XD If you want an idea (sorry it's in french) :

>> WRITING

I'm in mood for writing, but it's chaotic, i have many MANY drafts on my phone and pc with some paragraph, just idea, a dialog, nothing full. But i can show you one of them

So, just another snippet of Virgile/Eve fic, i really need to finish this chapter, but translation takes lot of time (i can't full write in english)

"You never asked me what's my job." He coughed several times under the glare of the other disdainful customers before catching his breath, avoiding her look. This must have made him suspicious in the eyes of the woman in front of him; he always looked like a child caught at fault when confronted with moments like this. Virgile remained silent and Evelyn resumed, resting her elbows on the table, not giving up. "Because you're not interested? Or you know and you don't want to talk about it?" More than red, he was turning crimson. His gaze was on the restaurant's décor, the sleek modern style, the chrome accents to underline the white walls where hideous gaudy pictures were hung to make it look like art … everywhere but on her. Unable to escape, trapped by his chair and his lunch, he finally took a breath, and whispered, "I already know". She didn't seem offended, quite the opposite. "Thanks to NetWatch or…?" He cut her off with a firm gesture, finally turning his gaze towards her. "I would never use my job to get information on someone. We're adults, we can… talk." He sighed, his leg trembling and his hands twisting as if he were telling a shameful secret. "Because I've been to Clouds before and met you there." He thought he'd never have this conversation, Evelyn talked little about her private life and he'd hoped she'd continue to do so without having to justify anything. His heart raced and his hand caressing the back of his neck betrayed his nervousness. For her part, she continued to smile, almost amused, then took on an air of conspiracy as she moved a little further forward. "And you're ashamed of something?" Her steady voice sought information, perhaps she was imagining what they might have done. Virgile had difficulty swallowing before answering, his gaze shifting. "I don't know," he replied. "Is it wrong to take advantage of someone's unconsciousness to get rid of problems?" "By get rid of your problems, do you mean … sex?" Virgile's face froze and he opened his eyes wide. With a sudden movement, he almost spilt his drink. "What? No! No ! " He saw her laugh as he tried to calm down. "I never wanted to… with a doll."

>> MODS

I have ... 5 XL mods waiting to finish XD 2 old mods i port in XL, 2 clothes and 1 thing. I don't like to talk more about it bc they're not finish, not much pics And now i'm done with npv commissions until february, i can mod for myself. So i need to :

update NPVanessa (new tattoos, new clothes, new hair)

update NPV Oscar (new clothes - young version)

redo NPVirgile (with his style i created for him)

redo NPV Isao (i borked him and now he has a wardrobe)

redo NPValentin (new body with Gymfiend, new clothes)

finish NPV Mieko

Would like to finish Enzo's scars on his hands too, and so update his npv too. I also want to finish my custom npcs for Eve for example (maybe release it ? idk) i want to learn to do props, i failed for CP bday, i found a plan B I want to learn to port clothes, i bought some because they were on sale but that's it I want to learn custom poses bc i have ... 3 sets in mind ! ... i will never have time until february XD

tagging (no pressure of course !) : @breezypunk @medtech-mara @cybervesna @nananarc @mhbcaps and anyone who wants !

#wip wednesday #wip whenever #many things but nothing finish ><

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autumnbrambleagain · 1 year

Text

Yhelm p14 - readmore for full

"We can never tell Afternoon Sale," Latti said firmly and in all seriousness.

The five of them were not gathered in Afternoon Sale's cafe. The absolute scandal of it had Yhelm, Latti, and Madrigal, her regulars, on edge. What punishment awaited them when the god of coffee discovered their infidelity?

But this was for Bodo and his boyfriend, Latyzell, so it made sense to have this in their home territory.

Which was a very nice sit-down restaurant-cafe in Upper Retlayn style. This meant no chairs, all thick sitting-pillows and low tables covered in dark-patterned cloth, beneath high vaulted ceilings that felt SO much more far away all the way down here on the ground. All the lighting was dimmed lanterns hanging from walls done in night-blue mosaics. It almost felt like being outside in nighttime.

It was a good aesthetic, Yhelm felt, settling into her pillow-seat. She'd forgotten how much more extra everything was in-city.

"It does me glad to welcome you here today," Latyzell said. He was maybe sixteen, seventeen, around Bodo's age, but tall and lanky to Bodo's short and stubby. Where Bodo was dressed in his universal lawclerk uniform, Latyzell's dress was distinctly ethnic, dark-patterned layers of mantles and skirts that made him look draped in carved stone. Where Bodo looked uneasy, defensive, on guard, Latyzell was absolutely delighted.

"Well!" Latti said, and she was dressed in her best too, lacey and tight-stitched, "it's wonderful to meet you, Lat--Latyzell?" She stumbled over the name just a little bit. "I'm Latti, I'm Bodo's oldest sister."

"Han," Latyzell agreed happily.

Oh, were they doing introductions? They were doing introductions. "Al mat myr svitch darit," Yhelm said, because she wasn't NOT going to Style over everyone and keep from using the Retlayn she'd learned in college. "We met outside the courthouse, I'm his other sister. Yhelm."

"Han," Latyzell nodded seriously. "You have very good Retlayn!" He looked down to Bodo, smiling. "She has very good Retlayn! You need to catch up!"

Bodo's face was caught in a terrible mixture of conflicted emotions that Yhelm wasn't even going to try to start figuring out right now.

"I'm Madrigal," Maddie said, with a little wave. "I'm Yhelm's partner."

"Han, it gives me delight of it," Latyzell said.

Bodo finally said something. "Look, none of you can tell mom and dad, okay?"

"Obviously," Yhelm agreed.

Latti looked between her siblings, having gotten somewhat lost between them. "Why not?"

The incredulous, grumpy little stare on Bodo's face sent Latti spiraling even further away from the page Bodo and Yhelm were sharing.

"W--what?" she asked.

"You remember when I started dating Maddie?" Yhelm said. "How excited mom was about that."

"Oh!" went Latti, with a little purse of her lips. "Well, that was because Madrigal is a phanteasel. She was still angry even after--you know--after Maddie became--I suppose became any gender they want? Is that the way to say it? She wasn't angry that you were both girls then, so, why should it matter if Bodo and Latyzell are both boys?"

"Yeah she was upset Maddie was a phanteasel because that meant I couldn't give her grandkids. Well no she was upset I wouldn't be punished with motherhood like she felt like she was, but hey you know same diff."

Bodo nodded along seriously. "If she finds out I'm in a relationship that won't--go anywhere--I don't like saying it like that but that's how she'll say it."

"Yeah," Yhelm said, "and it isn't like you're in a hurry to give her grandkids either, Latti, so, you know. She finds out about this and it's all, oh I'm being betrayed, oh nooo, you know how she gets. Hey Bodo look at us on the same team isn't this weird?"

All Bodo gave her for that was an annoyed sigh, from way deep in the lungs. You know what she'd take it.

Food came out, in the wounded downtime of conversation. In proper Retlayn fashion there were no menus to pick this-or-that from. Food came in endless plates, a dozen varieties, in spicy curries and cream-thick pastes and teardrop shaped rice and crunchy flatbreads waiting to have all of the above piled on them. It was delicious. Afternoon Sale forgive them for taking family time somewhere else today.

"So how did you meet?" Latti asked the all-important question.

"Ah--as it becomes," Latyzell said. "I was troubled by immigration paperwork at the courthouse. Bodo helped me fill it out!"

"I was just doing my job," Bodo said. "Someone needed help. It was just." He said it with this little mixture of self-depreciation and embarassment. It was adorable. Look at Yhelm's little brother, the stupid little nerd.

Madrigal asked, "How long ago was that?" before sealing their lips shut with a particularly sticky mass of rice.

"Autumn?" Latyzell asked.

"Almost a year ago," Bodo agreed.

"Wow! Congrats!" were the words Maddie was probably trying to say over the food gluing their mouth shut.

Bodo's face flirted with appreciation but decided to turn the other way and go into a grumpy little frown. Well, that wasn't surprising. This was the first time Bodo'd interacted with either Maddie or Yhelm without shouting five minutes into things. This was impressive, honestly. If this was a sample of the influence Latyzell was going to have on her little brother, well, no worries there, then, huh?

"What brought you to the City of Love?" Yhelm asked.

"Ah! Family all came over from Upper Retlay. My mother and father are both now at an Argent temple employed."

"What do they do?" Latti asked.

"They are priests. I am a priest, too."

Woops some hunk of food caught in Yhelm's throat at that. She had to rush some spiced fruit drink down her mouth to clear it out, and Latti beat her to asking, "Oh! An actual propitiant?"

"Of which interpretation?" Yhelm managed to add.

"Mercy. By the Night-Eye's grace we are honored to heal the sick and harmed."

"Dang. Impressive." Yhelm pinged Maddie over their Love connection. ♥Imagine mom finding out Bodo is dating an actual holy-doctor only for him to be the wrong gender.♥

♥Your mother would find something wrong with him anyway,♥ Maddie sent back.

"I have a great love for Argent," Latyzell continued. "She has accepted such a, a burden, to be so many things to people. There are many gods to worship, but of all, Ardent-Argent become visible daily. No one does not know her, and so she must contain so much patience and understanding for every interpretation. Ato, so many do not even think of her, she does so much but it is, it is, inherited freely?" He looked between Bodo and Yhelm for help with the idiom.

"Fraitif absolt?" Yhelm asked. "Uh, taken for granted."

Bodo's face darkened again. "Where did you even learn Retlayn?"

"I told you, in the Cazirizahd." Bodo kept staring so Yhelm kept talking. "Upper Retlay has a really strong magic culture. There were a few foreign language courses they offered and Retlayn magic theory was the one I hated the least, so I thought, well, might as well go with that. It's dialectally not super diverged from dead-point pupil, either, there's been a lot of idiomatic usurpations but outside of that most of the basic vocabulary shares the same etymology. Grammar's mostly the same too, but the structure's more specific where you can put the verb and it declines by case like, half the time and knowing when is annoying but still."

"Also you were dating someone from Retlay there," Madrigal added.

"Right, I was also dating someone from Retlay, so it was an easy cheat."

Latyzell's ears were all perked up curiously behind his fuzzy antlers. "Magic? Are you a wizard?"

"I'm a licensed academage," Yhelm said.

"She's a criminal," Bodo said.

Ah, there it was. There it went. Now the mood of the table died. Latti paused, flatbread dripping golden curry-slime onto the plate below, mouth half-open, breath held. Madrigal was shaking their head and on a neck as long as theirs it really stood out as a point too. Yhelm just crossed her arms, the leather of her jacket squeaking in the newly born silence.

"What?" Bodo asked. "Do you think I'm not going to tell him? Do you think I'm going to just forget? What happened to that gaitsbird you were taking away the last time we saw you?"

"I'm not talking Guild business here."

Bodo snuffed, with a little angry nod of his head, as if to say, well, there you go! to Latyzell. "The Guilds are professional criminal organizations. They've been around for millenia like a bad mold no one can get rid of. And my sister and her partner work for them. They're criminals."

"Ah yes!" Latyzell agreed happily. "I did not want to perform assumptions but I saw your religious dress."

"Oh?" Yhelm said. There was a definite dissonance between Latyzell's excitement and Bodo's glowering and Yhelm was not going to make any guesses as to what it was about just yet.

"Do you worship Bad Boy?" Latyzell asked.

Yhelm choked a laugh that tried to squeeze its way out of her throat, but she caught it, gave it a good throttling and sent it right back down into her stomach. "I'm the only adversary in a family of freepeople. So, yeah."

Latyzell nodded in a good red satisfaction. "I thought so I thought so. The leather jacket is the religious dress of Bad Boy, ato you said you were a greenlight. You are both! Very exciting!"

If Yhelm was a heartless monster she might have relished the delicious look on Bodo's face, that ear-fold of near betrayal he had going on right this moment. "Lotter, she's a criminal, though. She does--she does crimes! Probably bad ones! My parents spent so much money on her education and instead of doing anything she--she became a criminal!"

Latyzell's smile lost its excitement but remained in place with a gentler understanding. "Ah, yes, yes. But when the Heirs made the world, they decreed, everyone should have a place. This city is oversaw by the Heir of Love and Indulgence, so what is better place? The gods provide a space for everyone to be themselves. Farit, those without a place, Bad Boy and Blessed Fiddle said, let things be soft, that those with the will can their own place make, where they can find none already existing. Those words were in the first spoken into the world as it awoke."

Bodo snorted, that sort of angry stag snort inherited from the beginning of the world, and he looked down at his food and pouted.

Yhelm sent a nudge to Maddie. ♥Haha, I mean, I really like this kid but I hope they don't break up right here at the table over me.♥

♥I don't think it's likely,♥ Maddie sent back.

♥Why not?♥

♥They aren't talking, but look at the mood of the table. Look at Latti. She looks stuck in the awkward silence, but you and I, we're talking non-verbally. Now look at Bodo and Latyzell.♥

Yhelm did risk a long look, and oh, oh no. Neither was talking but the silent shifts of weight, the inconsistant eye-contact, the rare bite of food, oh no.

♥They're talking right now aren't they?♥ Yhelm sent. ♥They're doing what we're doing.♥

♥Which means their relationship is strong enough they can communicate along the Love element,♥ Maddie sent. ♥I mean, I could be wrong and this might be the breaking point, but…♥

♥… but you don't get to talk in someone else's head unless the relationship's strong on both ends, yeah. Wow. It's weird to see my little brother like this, you know?♥

♥Growing up?♥

♥Who said he gets to be grown up he's my little brother. Shoot, hey, Maddie if he's becoming an adult then what am I? Am I old? Please tell me I'm not old.♥

♥You're younger than Lils, aren't you?♥

♥Fuck now that Belham's on-board with plan 'Get Lils Out Of The House' I gotta actually introduce you don't I?♥

♥I'd love to see Afternoon Sale figure out a coffee a half-dead can enjoy.♥

♥She'd DO it, too, don't even mess with her.♥

♥She can never know we came to this restaurant.♥

♥Meadoe preserve it.♥

"Yhelm," Bodo said. He was looking up at Yhelm, now, and Latyzell was, too, and they were doing it together, with this sense of Together, and even if he was a little shit sometimes it made Yhelm's heart swell to see the dumb kid had someone he could make a team with, you know? "Have you ever killed anyone."

The immediate adversary instinct was to give a dismissive, cheeky answer, but no, this was a serious moment, wasn't it? Bodo and Latyzell had come to some kind of conclusion in their heads, hadn't they? "I haven't killed anyone, Bodo."

"Have you ever--raped--"

"Apat-in-Flyhh, seriously?" Yhelm said, maybe a tad too loudly.

"And," Bodo kept on going, Latyzell was probably feeding him the lines, encouraging him on, Yhelm thought, "have you ever mugged anyone or stolen anything?"

Shit. "Guild actually takes exception to mugging," she said, diplomatically. "It is literally my job to beat the shit out of people who go around mugging tourists in our territory." Guild-sanctioned pick-pockets were a different story she wasn't going to mention. "If you're asking if I break into people's houses to steal their life savings, no, I don't steal shit either. If you're asking me--as family only, and not as a lawclerk? Under redlight that this isn't under redlight? If I've ever stolen anything?" Yhelm tapped a chunk of flatbread on the table. Tappa tappa tappa. "There are situations where appropriation of possessions are sanctioned Guild responses to those recalcitrant of Guild Laws."

"So you've--"

"Yes if some idiot is ignoring Guild rules and not listening to warnings I'll take their shit, the same as you do in the courthouse. Look if someone's under Guild Law then they're under Guild Law, it's a Law element it's not even an Authority issue we have actual rules--" she stopped because Bodo had that distracted look that meant Latyzell was probably talking to him in his head.

Bodo sighed. It was the most reluctant, pouty sigh Yhelm had ever heard but it was a sigh. "I'm never going to be proud of your career but I can let it go as long as you don't become a villain."

"Not gonna do anything Bad Boy wouldn't approve of," Yhelm offered.

Bodo took a long moment of thought, or maybe silent conversation with Latyzell. "Deal."

"Deal!" She gave Bodo a little thumbs-up, and shared it around with Latyzell and Latti too. Latti looked like she'd been holding her breath this entire time and just now finally relaxed enough to take another.

"… haven't you been dating Madrigal for over a decade?" Bodo asked sullenly, and with a sense of 'I just remembered one last thing' even though it was too late, they already said deal on it, they already said it!

"Yeah?"

"So were you cheating on them when you were dating a Retlayn in college--"

Yhelm couldn't stop this laugh, no this one made it all the way out and all over the table.

"It was pretty hot," Madrigal said, over her laughter. "When you two develop your relationship more, you'll be able to share senses too."

Bodo squeezed his ears and groaned. "Aaah! No, no thank you ew nevermind!"

Latti risked a smile. "Well, welcome to the family, then, Latyzell. This is what it is."

"I am very glad," Latyzell said, smiling again.

#autumn draws things #autumn writes things #series tag yhelm #yhelm 14 #fiction #fantasy writing #how do you tag shit on tumblr

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