#in the three years I’ve spent away from retail

[lionfanged]

anyone else go into a slow rage after listening to one too many christmas songs or has retail broken me

#I haven’t listened to a Christmas song (at least more than one if I can avoid it) #in the three years I’ve spent away from retail #but today I didn’t bring my iPod to play my store music and I am dying #the radio is only playing Christmas music and I am full of violence #help me

[dearsnow]

RETAIL THERAPY (2)

- your mall trip with patrick turns into something even sweeter than a slushie (patrick verona x gn!reader, part of the summer before senior year series)

word count: 2,356

TSBSY: School is finally out for the summer, leading you to discover all that the sunny months have in store for you and your best friend, Patrick Verona.

a/n - the second installment is here!!!! i absolutely love the mall, so this was a must for the series.

You’re standing in a crowded mall as the air conditioner beats off the mid-summer heat. You need some retail therapy on a day like this, a day where going outside means melting the soles of your shoes to the pavement. It has been three weeks since you got out of school, and you have spent almost every moment with your best friend. Midnight store runs, countless movie theater trips, and the occasional picnic filled the time as you soaked your skin in the sun. This summer, though, things feel different.

It’s less like you’re just going somewhere with a friend and more like you’re spending time with someone special. It doesn’t make sense, and you know it, but you can’t help but feel that this summer holds something extraordinary. Something you’ve been wanting for a long time, even if you’re unsure as to what it is.

You reach for your phone, feeling a familiar buzz in your pocket.

“I see you.” The text reads, from no one other than Patrick. Like that isn’t creepy at all. You smile at it, turning in a circle to try and spot him. It should be easy, really, considering that he doesn’t exactly fit into a crowd. As you turn around, peering past every corner and plant in this goddamn mall, he appears behind you. You jolt as you see him, so close you can almost believe he purposely snuck up on you.

“Patrick! Jesus Christ, that was terrifying. If you were anyone else I would’ve thought I was getting kidnapped.” You touch his arm lightly, and he looks down where you brushed him with an expression you can’t quite place. It had always confused you, those glances. It’s almost like your every touch burns him, and every stare quenches the fire. You have no idea what it means, if it means anything at all.

He breaks away from the moment and gives you a wolfish grin. “You should be careful with who you trust. How do you know I’m not a kidnapper?” He grabs your arms, pulling you towards him as you gasp and struggle in his grip.

“I think I would’ve been kidnapped by now if you were ever going to.” You say, a laugh creeping its way out of your mouth. He lets you go with a shake of his head, and you rub your thumb over where he touched you. His touch was gentle, even as you were pulling against him. Just as he always is with you. 

He moves to walk in front of you, walking backwards with his hands in your pockets as you follow him. “I could snap one day, you know. I’m an escaped criminal, who knows what I’m capable of?” He shrugs. There’s a familiar look in his eye, one you know so well you can spot it from a mile away.

“Yeah, you’re just a big bad asshole. Maybe I shouldn’t even be here with you at all.” You state, raising your eyebrows. “Maybe I should just leave you to your own devices.” You don’t want to. You would never want to. If he isn’t by your side, something is sick and twisted in the world.

He scoffs lightly. “Nah, you’re stuck with me.” He smiles. “You’d get lost in here if it wasn’t for this big bad asshole.”

You open your mouth, offended. “I’ve lived near this place for way longer than you have. If anything, you’re the one that would be getting lost.” You side-step a bench, just narrowly missing the edge of it. Patrick looks at you with a skeptical expression.

“Oh, my mistake. Carry on.” He speeds up his walking pace, dodging any passers-by as you try to keep up with him. 

“Hey, come back!” You voice, slightly louder than you would’ve liked, yet your words seem to fall on deaf ears as he continues his path. “Patrick, I’m serious.” Once again, he ignores you. This boy is going to be the death of you.

When you finally catch up to him, he’s standing in front of a Victoria’s Secret with a shit-eating grin on his face. He looks at you, then the mannequin in the window. You shake your head vigorously as he points. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. Wanna get sexy with me?”

“Absolutely not.” You respond. Your cheeks are on fire just thinking about stepping into that store with him. Even the idea of picking out lingerie with Patrick is mortifying. 

He shrugs then steps into the store, leaving you to make a choice- follow him or keep your dignity intact. Of course, you choose the option he knew you would choose. With a sigh, you walk in behind him.

Immediately he picks up a skimpy pink bra and holds it to his chest, looking at you questioningly. “Would this look good on me?” He asks, eyes wide and innocent. This man is more insane than you ever realized. You groan, deciding to just fuck it and join in on the fun.

“Nah, you’re not a pink girl. This, however, would look amazing with your skintone.” You pick up a light blue bodysuit, complete with scandalous cut-outs and lace. His irises light up with a smile.

“I’ll be sure to try it on.” He says.

You spend more time than you initially would’ve liked in that Victoria’s Secret, but it’s fulfilling in a way you never could have imagined. Messing around with him is so incredibly fun, no matter the location. You’ve never helped a guy pretend to model lingerie before, and it’s a lot more freeing than you thought. For once, you are focused solely on him, not the thoughts of the people surrounding you. Of course, their thoughts are probably malicious because you’re two teenagers making fun of clothing, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

When you first met him, you wouldn’t have pegged Patrick as the kind of guy to do these sorts of things. He was incredibly flippant, and though he joked around a lot, as a freshman he almost never did anything that could be considered “cringy”. As you got to know him, though, looking deeper and deeper into what made him him, you discovered something. He has a penchant for making you laugh. And a penchant for getting into trouble, although it isn’t always his intention.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave if you’re not going to buy anything.” The store attendant calls, a grimace on her face. You pause mid-laugh, but Patrick only laughs harder. “I’m serious.” She says. “I’ll have mall security throw you out.”

Patrick shrugs. “Ooh, I’m so scared.” You jab him in the side with your elbow, and he pretends to double over.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am.” You respond, voice sugary sweet. She looks at you skeptically. You absolutely do not want to be kicked out of your favorite mall today, so you grab Patrick by the arm and hightail it out of there as he snickers.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am.” He mocks, “I didn’t mean to make you mad!” 

“That’s not even close to what I sound like.” You snort. He’s tried to mimic your voice many times in the past, and each one is worse than the time before. He smiles, eyes squinting beautifully in the artificial light. “Let’s get out of here before that lady threatens us more.” You start walking in a new direction, and this time, he is the one to follow. 

As much as you hate to admit he’s right, you don’t really know where you’re heading. All you can think of is how nice his voice sounds and how intoxicating being near him is, much to your dismay. He’s like his own stupid addiction to you. If he was a cigarette, you know damn well you wouldn’t be able to put him down.

You visit a few stores, joking around with Patrick once again. You don’t stay in any one place for very long, though. You wouldn’t want to repeat the Victoria’s Secret situation, but the look in his eyes is begging you to.

You keep walking, making idle conversation before he pulls you to the side. “Why don’t we get a bite to eat?” Patrick suggests, pointing to the food court. “My treat.”

“I could go for some food right now, but you don’t have to pay.” You protest. “I brought money.” 

“I just got paid. It’s no problem.” He says, walking over to your favorite food stand. Curse him for knowing your favorite item, curse him for ordering it for you and him to share, and curse him for pulling out his wallet and paying before you can push him to the side. 

You frown. “I’m gonna pay you back one way or another.” You mutter as he collects your food. He turns to you, a sparkle in his gaze.

“How about with a kiss?” He grins. Secretly, he hopes you do. You scrunch your nose, seemingly in disgust. You shouldn’t want to kiss him, but the thought tickles your lips like a feather. 

“Fat chance, Verona.”

His lips quirk up at your response. “C’mon, not even a little one?”

You look at him with an expression that makes his stomach turn. You seem slightly disgusted, a little curious, and just a tad bit sad. He takes it as a definite no, turning his attention to the bench he spots just outside of the mall. He briskly walks away, gesturing at you to follow. His silence at your words and look makes you bite your tongue.

He sits on the bench, holding the food out for you, and you sit next to him. The outside air is vaguely warm, and the wind smells like him.

You share the food, making sure he helps you eat the thing he bought. After a minute, when you’re mid-chew, he wipes a crumb off of your lip with the tip of his thumb. Your heart gives a mighty flutter as you gape at him. You pause, and he pulls back his hand like he didn’t know what he was doing. You finish your bite, hesitantly, waiting to see if he’s going to say anything. He doesn’t, and you brush off the butterflies in your stomach. It was an accident, probably. That’s what you tell yourself. 

The silence stretches on as you finish your food. You’re a little worried now- Patrick may be quiet when unprompted, but this is the first time in a long while that he has seemed at a loss for words. You’re his best friend. If he’s going to be silent around someone, it has never proven to be you.

You decide to break the silence. For the second time that day, you think “fuck it” and open your mouth. You might regret it, and you might decide to play it off as a joke, but you must say something.

“You know, back at the food court, I really did want to kiss you.” You voice simply, leaning into his shoulder. He looks at you, not wanting to hope. Not wanting to believe that this is real, that this is happening, and that he can have the thing he’s been craving for years now.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks, putting his arm around you. The sun is setting, but it feels like no time has passed at all. 

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and steeling your nerves. You consider the other choice, the one that plays his emotions like a fool. You can’t back out of this now. You can’t hurt him like that, even if he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings. He doesn’t deserve it. “I like you, Patrick. I think I might even love you. I just don’t know what to do.”

There’s a beat of silence as he processes your words. His heart is so alive that he feels like it might jump out of his chest and dance while he tries to keep the excitement to a minimum. You feel the same way. God, you feel the same way.

“We’ll figure it out.” He states. You look up at him.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You shift uncomfortably. Did you just fuck up your relationship with your best friend? Worry floods your veins, pushing past the comfort that the feeling of his arms around you brings. You can think of nothing else but the possibility of rejection.

A ghost of a smile lies gently on his lips as he looks out at the orange horizon. “It means I love you too.” 

You sit up, eyes widening. “Do you mean it?” Your voice comes out slightly breathy, as you repeat his words over and over in your head. It worked out. Like so many things, this worked out. You have never been happier than you are right now. The birds flapping overhead call, and your body feels as light as them.

“I mean it as much as you do.” There it is, that small hint of insecurity. That little pinch that tells you he’s as afraid of messing this up as you are. Luckily for him, there is absolutely nothing that he can say or do right now to make you love him less.

“I mean it. I really mean it, Pat.” You murmur. He reaches out to touch the side of your face with his palm before kissing your forehead softly. The pressure of his skin on yours explodes your mind with colorful fireworks. If you died right now, you would die happy. You love him beyond words.

He looks at you, dark eyes shining in the dimming light. “I do too.”

You sit like that for a long while. The sun gives you the last glimpses of its dying rays, lighting you both in a special kind of fire. There are no words exchanged and no breaks of the heavenly silence, but you feel him. You know him. He knows you. And now, you and he can grasp the breadth of each other’s feelings. For this night, and all nights to come, your friendship will never be the same.

Taglist: @skeletonfromthecloset

#tsbsy ; patrick verona ☀️ #patrick verona x reader #patrick verona #patrick verona imagines #10 things i hate about you #10tihay #ten things i hate about you #x reader #heath ledger #fanfic #fanfiction

[poorshadowspaintedqueens]

what was your college experience like in terms of academics? becoming a doctor?

Hmmm, that’s a rather broad question. If we’re talking about undergrad, those were four amazing years, particularly from an academic standpoint. I was very fortunate in that my parents were paying for my education and I was attending an enormous land-grant university at in-state rates, which meant I was able to take full advantage of opportunities not available to a lot of students. Mostly in terms of taking extra classes every term and participating in three different study abroad programs. I started off double-majoring in English and History, and ended up with a triple-major in English, French, and Medieval & Renaissance Studies (which, until I started undergrad, I had no idea was even a field of study).

I knew I wanted to go into academia so I did what people were supposed to do in those circumstances, namely apply to graduate school. I applied to 9 programs the first time round and only got into one, so that choice was comparatively easy. It was a one-year M.Phil. in European Literature and Culture at the University of Cambridge, and while I was there, I determined that I wanted to stay on and do my PhD on the French Romantics and their relationships with and reworkings of English Renaissance drama. Alas, the two examiners on my master’s thesis had a disagreement, and my thesis did not received the necessary marks, so I ended up having to go home, get a retail job, and reapply to graduate schools for the following academic year.

When I reapplied with an M.Phil. to my name, I got into three graduate programs. I made the deeply questionable financial decision to take an unfunded place in Oxford because it had been my dream since I was a kid to study there. But also this was in 2006 and things were very different. I was told by plenty of people, including my academic advisors, that it was worth the risk to have a PhD from Oxford behind my name.

From a financial standpoint, it was probably the worst decision of my life. However, the three years I spent in Oxford were probably amongst the most intellectually fulfilling I’ve ever had. It’s probably all for the best that I was still at a point in my life where I was capable of ignoring racist microaggressions, and that I was in a stable and committed long-term relationship notwithstanding the three thousand miles of ocean between us, because aside from the intellectual fulfillment, those were rough years. I took out a mountain of student loans and I lived like a hermit, working up to three jobs at a time to afford my monthly rent. My department put me through the wringer, and I nearly quit at one point because they’d almost convinced me I wasn’t good enough.

To some extent, I finished out of spite, to show everyone who’d doubted me that I could actually do it. I then turned my D.Phil. thesis into a book in less than two years because I was convinced it would get me a job.

Narrator: It did not get her a job.

I am now 14 years out from my PhD. I have worked for everything from Ivy-League-adjacent private colleges to a rather notorious for-profit university that happened to be located ten minutes away from where I was living at the time. And the entire structure of academia has changed--or, at the very least, stratified to a point where it is practically impossible to get any job at all, let alone one with a decent salary and benefits. So if this question was posed with the intention of finding out how to succeed, I’m afraid you’re asking the wrong person.

This is not to say that I don’t recommend that people go to graduate school if they want to and have the resources to do it. Especially if you come from a minority or marginalized group, because academia desperately needs those important voices. But if you do, know that the system is rigged and that it takes an enormous amount of resources, effort, and struggle for comparatively little reward. Know that if it doesn’t work out, it is not your fault. And always--always--have a backup plan.

#vanitas vanitatem et omnia vanitas #academia #academics #graduate school

[kats-chaotic-wonderland]

The tiny town of Merin Falls [Part 1]

(this is repost of my original reddit story so it's still structured for reddit. TW: mentions of blood, violence, gore, assault, and stalking. Nothing too graphic, but this is the set up for a horror story.)

Today had been a pretty slow day, so when I eventually found myself on Reddit, I whittled away my shift by reading through some of the posts in this particular sub. As I was on some post, about fifteen stories in, my coworker pointed out that some of the stuff we've seen would probably be interesting for some of you here. He suggested that I put a few of the more...bizarre? Creepy? I guess horrific? Stories about weird shit that happens in our small new England town.

So, as I'm sure you've heard before, I'll start by saying I live in a small town. It's settled in the northeast, a ways up from the Bridgewater triangle, and on the hill above a small bay. It's old, and has a history of witch trials and war battles. If you've ever seen a horror or Hallmark movie you've seen a town just like it. From calm summers to colorful falls, with old Victorian homes settled in old neighborhoods, complete with soccer moms and honor roll kids. This place is chock full of the American dream.

For context, we're small for this area. Like really small. One school, town square, a few neighborhoods, some mom and pop shops. We have a few docks down at the bay, but nothing bigger than a small motor boat. We do have one guy who lives on his boat, but it's a single room ship. Officially our population is about 1000-1500 on a good year. Unofficially, we stand about 2000 consistently. We'll talk about why at a different time, for now I just wanted to put it in your mind how small we're actually talking.

This place looks and operates like a normal New England town on the surface. Of course, I wouldn't be here if it actually did. There's a lot wrong with this tiny town of Merin Falls.

I spent a while today rolling around in my brain for what story really works for a start. See, we get a lot of weird, dangerous, unexplainable stuff out here. But starting off with true horror is a bit of a challenge. After six years, and for some other reasons, I’ve become a bit numb to some of what happens here. Not all, but some, and the ones that stick with me really aren’t something I want to dredge up just yet. But after some thought, I settled on one that I think will serve as a good look into what living here is like.

The day in question was a pretty typical day, maybe four or so years ago? I had gone into work, had a total of four customers. I remember because Iian still has a polaroid of each one tucked away and dated in his portfolio. This is one reason I started to hang around with him, his need to take way too many photos means I have easy access to memory triggers. But we’ll talk about that on a different day. For now all that matters is I had four customers. Holly Baker, came in the early hours right at open, she bought three binders, a sharpie, and a roll of yellow duct tape. I rang her up with no issue, my coworker Iian took her photo as she was checking out. She left and we were dead until around four o’clock. That was when Mrs. Miller came in with her rat dog and her spineless husband.

Mrs. Silvia Miller, is a rather irritating thorn in my side. From my first day working here she’s come in at least once a week in order to make snide comments about my appearance or moral choices, and make laughably bad attempts to return items she never purchased. She’s every retail worker's nightmare. (And no, unfortunately this is not the story about her being a horrible monster) Her antics have gotten so bad over the past six years that we have rules specifically for her. I’ll explain them in more detail in a later post, but she’s not allowed to shop when it’s just me on shift. We do not accept returns from her. Ever. And all of her receipts have a stamp that says “Non returnable. All sales are final.” These rules extend to her husband, a short stumpy man who looks like a frog next to his witch of a wife. As well as her kids, on the off chance they take the time to visit the old crone.

I remember this interaction clear as day, without the need for a trigger. Silvia had come in ranting and raising holy hell about some folders she had purchased from Arthur, on a day when I wasn't working. I listened to her diatribe as she gestured rapidly with her free hand, her faux pearl bracelet looking like it was going to snap off her knobby wrist. After five or so minutes I just stopped her, took her receipt, and pointed at the massive hot pink stamp that was glowing in the black light. With a look that I can only describe as, complete and utter entitled bitch bafflement, the look a Karen gets when the manager doesn't give them free stuff. She turned up her crooked hooked nose and snatched the receipt. Then she turned on her heels, a cheap pair from the thrift shop, of which she had painted the soles red with what I can only assume was cheap spray paint. Then with the fury of a western wind, headed for the door in a huff. Her shaking bug eyed rat and amphibious husband in tow. The former clutched in her cheaply manicured claws, and the latter being dragged by the scruff of his threadbare suit. The Millers are what you would call high class white trash.

The third customer was a guy I can't remember, but since Iian has a photo with the same date, I'm gonna assume he was there. From the photo, I can see he was an inch or so taller than me, gaunt face with some dark stubble, thin lanky limbs, and curly dark hair down to his shoulders. He was wearing some casual shorts and a tee shirt, and….round Ozzy Osbourne sunglasses indoors….for some reason. What strikes me as off on this one, is we have a lot of photos of him, but Iian doesn't remember ever taking them. And, for my weird memory issues, I can't bring up a single image of him in my mind if I'm not looking at a photo. It's like he just blinks from existence when we look away. There's a lot of photos of him actually….I wonder if he’s a regular? I’ll check the cameras for him at some point.

The last customer came in just before close. I call her Thelma, but I don’t actually know her name. She’s not local, but she is a regular. For whatever reason she drives out to this podunk to buy her music sheets from us. Thelma is always dressed in a similar outfit, just different colors and patterns. Always a top with 3/4 sleeves, a skirt that fits her closely but not tight that ends at the ankle in a ruffle. Sunglasses, sometimes she keeps them on. And her wiry gray hair is always up in some clip ponytail, updo thing. The top is always solid or stripes, and the skirt is always some kind of floral. Her shoes are either sandals, heels, flats, or sneakers. I wish I had more to say about her, but she never says much. Just comes in, wordlessly gets her blank sheets, checks out, pays cash, and bails. She did the same thing that day. Not a word more than needed, sunglasses on the whole time. Have I mentioned my store is lit up mostly by black lights? Yeah she makes no sense to me. But she doesn’t cause problems so I like her well enough. After Thelma left Iian and I cleaned up, locked up, and he headed home. We waved as I was taking my key from the door. We go in opposite directions, save for the off day when he walks my way with me so he can stay with Ryan for the night. That night was not one of those nights.

So there I was walking alone. It was a warm night and I was in a pretty good mood after everything that day. I’d made it a good six blocks when a car pulled up next to me. They rolled up real slow and kept pace with me. I didn’t give them any attention. Instead the hand on my opposite side was reaching for the knife I keep on my belt. I have a few on me at all times, I lived on the road for a while before I landed here. You figure out a lot about how to keep yourself safe in places like truck stops and roach motels. My knives won't save me from a bullet, learned that the hard way. But guns are rare in this area, instead kidnapping and other person on person crime is higher. But when they rolled their window down and I heard a whistle, my eyes just rolled.

Travis Heartly was the star of the football team back when he was in high school, now he was a community college drop out who could not understand the word no. Or fuck off. Or I will stab you and not feel bad in the slightest. He’d taken a liking to me just a few weeks after I had moved to Merin Falls. Unfortunately for him, I had sworn off guys. Not love, just guys. After getting abused three times in a row, I realized that me and guys romantically just don’t work. Travis didn’t get the memo apparently. He would come into my shop, near daily, and ask me out. Waste my time with his small town bragging. Act like a general Neanderthal. When Luther finally had enough and banned him from the store, he just started waiting outside for me to leave. Wait in my favorite coffee shop, bar, library, you name it he stalked it. His car was an old beat up sedan his mom gave him. He cleared out the back and put a bed in there. Needless to say that didn’t help his case when he busted into the shop excited to show me his new ride.

This car he was in however, was a rather nice Lexus. He was still beside me, calling out for my attention. I of course would not be giving him any. So he opted instead to move up the block and park right in the next street I needed to cross. Because of this move, the idiot gave me enough time to pull my larger blade from my boot. It's a good three inches longer than the belt knife, and an inch broader. See, my boots are clunky steel toed work boots. I don’t really need them, but old habits die hard, and hold big knives. I stopped a few yards away as he got out. We were close in age, though he had a good two years on me, but I had about six inches on him so I guess we're even. Still, after his flunk out, he’d taken up booze and dropped his work out. So his once toned body was slowly fading into the start of a beer belly and unkempt stubble.

He closed the door and leaned against the car,”Hey! How was work?”

“Leave me alone Travis.”

His expression dropped,”Come on, what did I do? Was it the roses? Look I just thought maybe-”

“Oi.” I cut him off, ”Shove it. I’m not interested. Now beat it.”

“Come on Am.” his voice was pitiful. He had his choice of girls when I moved here. He was pretty, young, fit, and locally famous. But when he clung to the freaky new girl, they all moved on after a year or so. A fair amount of his classmates were hooked up with someone new. Iian liked to gossip about his school a lot at work. In a small place like this most of the kids never really leave. But, his problems weren’t my issue.

“Move.” I ordered

He was looking at me like I’d just kicked a puppy.

“Fine.” I started to cross to the far side of the street. He panicked and ran toward me, closing the distance in a moment as he grabbed my upper arm. He'd learned not to try and grab my forearm. I always hold my knives down, with the bunt to my arm, blade out. In the event I need to block, or get grabbed from behind it's quicker to defend myself. Think Rambo or Hunter from the bad batch. Say whatever you want, but it's saved me more times than I want to admit.

“Wait!” he pleaded,”Please just one chance! I promise, I can-”

I ripped my arm away and rounded around with my free hand. The fist collided with his nose, I felt a crunch and heard a bone snap. Travis stumbled back and grabbed his now gushing nose. Tears welled and fell in rivulets as he looked at me in shock.

“I told you not to fucking touch me.” I spat and stepped back several feet. I kept my eyes locked on him and my guard up,”Try that shit again and I’ll do worse than break your nose. When a woman tells you no for two straight years, believe me she is not going to change her mind dumbass.”

He just looked at me, tears and blood running down his face. I’d always told him no. No maybes, no waffling. Always a direct no. And I’d put up with his stalking, but he’d never touched me before. This time he crossed a line he hadn’t realized was there. The look in his eyes was either rage, or passion. And I really didn’t want to know which. He’s the kind of guy who wants a woman to ruin his life. I guess he thought I would fit that bill.

He was right, but not in the way he wanted.

This standoff lasted for maybe a minute before headlights came slowly up behind us. Travis made the connection before I did. He saw the red and blues and bailed off into his Lexus. I watched him peel out from where he had been. I didn’t move until officer Lison parked and stepped out of his car. I lowered my knife and slid it into my boot as he walked over to me.

“Amber? Was that Travis I just saw?” he asked, he sipped on his coffee, getting a few drops caught in the edge of his salt and pepper mustache.

I turned and rubbed my hand, it was bruising from where I had punched him,”Yeah. He tried to grab me when I went to walk away this time.”

“Shit.” Lison chuffed with a bushy browed scowl,”What an ass.”

His reaction was so flippant, I just...I busted out laughing,”That’s all you got Boris?”

“What?” he asked confused,”He is. Plus he’s getting thrown in lock up tomorrow anyway.”

This made my laughter stop, it was my turn to be confused,”What did he do now?”

Another sip of his coffee,”Grand theft auto.” he shrugged,”Lexus was stolen from a lot east of town. That's why I stopped.”

“You’re kidding.” I asked slack jawed.

“Nope. I don’t think he even realized he was on camera.”

“So what? He just took it in hopes of a date night?”

“Looks like it if he was here for you. He’s a desperate man.” he shook his head,”Wanna lift home?”

I thought about it for a second,”Sure. Thanks Boris.”

We hopped in his cruiser, and made light conversation for a few blocks. Three blocks from my house though, a call came over the radio. Some mix of cop lingo and garbled static that I couldn't really understand. He did though, Boris looked concerned and stopped the car. He gave me a look I couldn’t really place,”Look, kiddo. I gotta respond on this one, but it’s back that way,” he gestured behind us,”It’s an all night type deal. Are you good for the last few blocks?”

I nodded,”Yeah, you go do what you gotta man. Thank you for the help, and the ride.”

“Any time Amber.” He nodded, his face looked a bit forlorn,”You should be safe from here, but be careful.”

“Always.” I smiled as I slid out of the cruiser, my boots hit the pavement and I walked behind the car to the sidewalk. Boris took off a moment later, back down the way we had come.

I should have asked how he knew Travis wasn’t around. I know now that's what he meant when he said I was safe. The look in his eyes should have clued me in, but I just figured it was part of whatever call he had gotten. I was right. Doesn’t make it easier for him though.

He’d get six calls of the same nature that night. And he wasn't the only one, a total of twenty eight similar calls came in one after another. None of them could be explained. He still blames himself for the two that survived, and the rest that didn't.

Boris Lison had lived in Merin Falls his entire fifty seven years of life. And he’d known Travis for all twenty one years of his. He’d been close with the football star's grand dad. But after his spiral, the officer just felt bad for the kid. That made it hard for poor Boris to pick him up off the pavement that night. The official story was that he crashed the Lexus into the retainer wall because of his erratic behavior. Some of the officers even insinuated that it was on purpose after my rejection and breaking his nose. That he had finally snapped and tried to end it all. Claiming mental illness was easier than trying to explain the gaping hole in his chest. Or how he had been dragged out of the car through the back windscreen. How he ended up a good half mile from the car. Or why he was frozen almost cryogenically with his heart yanked halfway out of his ribcage by the time Boris had found him. How he survived for the following week is beyond all of us. Not that he was any help in explaining anything. By the time I was ready to leave the hospital myself the following week, Travis tried to use his bed sheets and window for his own way out. I can’t say I blame him. I probably would have done the same after what happened. He spent the next two years in the Merin Falls psych ward. His time there was a horror show of its own.

What happened that night scarred a lot of people in this town. Unfortunately, myself included, both physically and mentally.

Boris had just gotten out of sight and I started making my way down the block. My body was still on high alert from my encounter with Travis. Every noise, flash of headlights, each passing car made me freeze. I'm not a skittish person. Anxious sure, but it's a quiet anxious. Not jumpy. Something in the air had me on edge. It felt like each step dragged me through a slurry of static and shaved ice.

My feet trudged onward. Alarm bells flagged in my brain, each thud of my heart sent a scream from the back of my mind. They all called me to turn and run. But….I didn't.

I should have.

The further I went the worse the feeling of unease got. Then, after a block, I saw something. A dark figure crossed the street ahead of me. I watched as it moved from my side to the other, then back again. Stopping in my tracks, my brow furrowed. It was like looking at something dipped in Vantaa black. My brain wanted to warp around it, like it was a void between two images that should be touching but weren't.

The way it moved, it wasn't….it wasn't right. Like a shadow blinking in and out of existing, but never moving all at the same time. I was frozen the moment my eyes caught it. My skin prickled as ice slinked in a slurry through my veins. I could feel the sludge crawling up the back of my neck as the thing turned to me. Whatever this was, I wasn't supposed to have seen it.

Thoughts raced in my mind, 'I've dealt with weird shadows before, if I tell it to leave it should right?'

'No wait, why isn't my mouth moving?'

'Hold on why can't I mo- wait is it getting closer!?'

A scream was lost in the void of my throat as I realized that the creature was moving in static flashes toward me, or was it? It was close, then it was miles away, a few yards, miles and miles, feet, then inches.

‘Shit!’

Freezing blood pounded in my ears as this...this thing...I couldn’t form a real thought as it neared me. What should have been it's face, instead just a chasm of inky blackness, was inches from mine. If it had eyes I couldn't see them. But I could feel them. It felt like a numbness trailing over me as it tried to understand what I was. Panic clutched my chest as the numb feeling hovered over my heart. The ice in my veins rushed to the center of where it was staring. A choked groan seeped from my throat as I felt the muscle in my chest freeze to a halt.

'How am I even still breathing?'

'Wait...am I?'

I couldn’t tell anymore.

It’s arm moved as it flashed back several feet again. Looking at this thing hurt. Like I was watching a game character glitch in and out as it tried to move. Just rapid, glitchy, morphing, shapes of shadow. It looked humanoid, but entirely not at the same time. Raising its arm I felt cold static touch the skin over my heart. My top was probably fucked, but I quickly didn’t care as I felt it slowly pushing it's claws into my flesh. I couldn’t scream. Gods I wanted to. I wanted to cry out in pain and terror. This creature was ripping my chest open. Claws in the shape of a perforated circle were digging, boring their way to my heart. Determined to remove the icy lump of muscle and sinew from where it was caged in bone.

Silent tears rolled down my cheeks, so hot they burned like flames as they fell. As they left blazing trails, it occurred to me as the heat faded, I couldn’t feel anything but the pain in my chest anymore. A sickening ‘*CRACK’* sent a new wave through my body. White spots floated and flitted around the edge of my eyes. Like sick fairies drawn to the scent of blood. This thing was taking it's time.

It enjoyed watching me suffer. Frozen in fear and pain.

The next thought that crossed my mind was so horribly clear,’I’m going to die here.’ I wish I could say I had some awakening and I snapped out of it. Or that in that moment my life flashed before my eyes and I saw the error of some choice in my life. But no. In that moment, alone with that thing, it’s claws reaching for my frozen heart, I just wished for one more moment. The image that did come to my mind just as the white began to take my sight wasn’t something deep, or wise, or heroic. It was a smile. A smile I knew would never look the same if I died. From that day on it would be tinged with sadness. Of not knowing what happened. Maybe she would think I just left. I prayed, for the first time in so many years, a silent thought,’Please, let her hate me. Don’t let her linger. Don’t let her search. Forget me and be happy.’ And that was it.

Everything went white.

I woke up two days later in a hospital bed. The nurse beside me was changing an IV bag. His eyes caught mine as they fluttered open, with a professional manner he told me I was in the hospital and to not move. After calling the doctor and running a few tests. Things like asking me for information, grip strength tests, stuff like that. They told me what happened. Just as I passed out, before I was gored by a shadow thing, Ryan had found me. He said I was just collapsed on the sidewalk cold, with a ring of stab wounds on my chest. He called 911 and they rushed me to the hospital. I had a few cracked ribs, and they said it was nearly impossible that all of the stabs had missed major arteries. But it wasn’t. That thing wanted me alive to the last second. Ryan found me two hours after I left the shop.

It had frozen me there for two hours.

I was in the hospital for recovery for a few days. Iian and Ryan checked in on me every day. Arthur and Luther came by a few times too. They even paid for my bills. I really love them so much. I don’t know where I’d be without them all. Once I was released, Iian stayed with me till he believed I wouldn’t keel over. Within two months I was healed up, a perfect ring of five exactly matching scars, centered right over my heart. As soon as the doc cleared me, which took a bit, she’s a thorough woman. I was in the tattoo parlor the next day getting a new piece to accent my new scars. That thing tried to kill me. But, I’m no coward. I was scared shitless, I’d only felt fear like that once before that day. Despite that, I lived. Somehow. So I’m owning it. Just like the one on my back. My shoulder. The bullet scar in my thigh. And the bands around my wrists.

Each scar is a memory. Each tattoo, a way to take back control in a small way. Every horror story leaves a scar of some kind. Mine were physical this time. Next time maybe we’ll look into the ones on my mind. But for now Iian is bugging me to check in, I didn't realize how long I've been typing. I’m Amber Haze, and I’ll be back soon with more from the tiny town of Merin Falls.

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Part 2

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[cardenasmcfarland63]

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The short version: We had a serial thief at the flower shop. She’s retired recently and I think that due to Covid she really means it this time. 

The long version? hoooo boy, here we go.

This story, and others, are viewable on Tablo

There are rules and there are rules.

In dealing with shoplifting in retail, there are rules on how one engages with a thief. The handbook, if there were one, would consist of a single word. 

Don't. 

Don't pursue, don't interrogate, don't accuse. Let them take the merchandise, let them get away. Let them return the Cricut machine for an equivalent amount on a gift card to be exchanged once again for drugs. 

Let them. 

There is no handbook on how to handle Flower Thieves. Prior to working in a flower shop, I never thought that this was a problem. 

Life is surprising. 

 I'm sure some of you have figured that out by now. 

The Flower Thief is notorious, and she has a system. There are days when you simply know that she's going to be in. 

"Break the heads off the flowers before you throw them away," Grandpa will say. "She's going to be here tonight, I think." 

And sure enough, she would be. At 6:45, a quarter til we close- the Thief would announce her arrival. Loudly. 

"Heeeeey, baaaaaaby!" 

The very first time I encountered the Flower Thief, she came in through the back door. 

"Oh Hiiiii, Darlin'- ain't seen your face around here: you must be NEW! I'm Wren, you know- like the bird? Well, Kyle and I have an agreement that I come and work for y'all sometimes. You should take out this trash, it stinks to high heaven. Anyways, nice talkin' to ya, see ya later." 

I may only be a little bit psychic, but I've spent enough time around liars to know insincerity when I see it. Kyle, at the time, was the manager of our store and I have it on record that he's tried to throw her out of the building once or twice. 

While I was taking out the trash, her pile of purchase became so tall it towered over her. I watched Clark massively undercharge her for the sake of getting her to go away. 

She has a pattern.

She comes in during the design classes because she knows that when there's twenty people in the store, there's not enough people to watch her and make sure she's not stealing. "There's a class today," she asks as if it's not literally every Tuesday. "Don't worry I know you all wanna get out of here on time." 

The Flower Thief announces her presence in a grand way and then makes her way to the back to grab a trash bag or an empty box and then proceeds to bury any spare parts she finds in the cooler in the trash bag, hiding them under the things that she's actually buying. 

After that, she checks the garbage cans for things we might have thrown away that will last another three days and stuffs them underneath her other ill-gotten goods. 

Just when you think she's finished, she'll go through her pile of flowers and say: "You know what? I don't need this eucalyptus." And she'll go back into the cooler with it, stuff it in her purse, and walk back to the register. 

And when she's all done being sneaky, she asks one of us to come ring her out. 

This is the part that no one wants to do. Because ringing out the Flower Thief means haggling with the Flower Thief. 

"Oh baaby, you know I don't pay those prices." 

"Oh baaaby, I only pay $19 for roses." 

"Oh baaaaaaaaaby, those carnations were on special." 

She'll talk you down to under $100 with a sob story: 

"Oh baaaaby, you know I'm donating this spray to the family. It's for that woman you know- you know the one. She got herself murdered a couple nights ago? Two children and she was pregnant too! Pregnant! Can you believe it? Who murders someone with child? What's the world coming to? So I need a good discount to make sure we treat this family right because they got a looooong road ahead of them." 

"Oh baaaaaaby, you know this one's for that car crash over on Cleveland Avenue? I hear he was taking care of his dying father himself, so it's such a shame for him to go first like that." 

"Oh baaaaaaaaaaaaaaby, this is for that little boy that shot himself, isn't that sad?" 

Thank you, Sister Mary Loquacious. 

And you nod because you don't want to come off as an uncaring sociopath. And while you're nodding and adjusting the price for her sad, sad consequence and mulling over how good she is for donating to these people in their time of need, she steals some greens from the trash can and sticks them in her bag. 

She hands you crisp $100 bills. You check them and she makes jokes about how she printed them this morning. They're legit. Counterfeiting isn't why she went to prison. 

What she went to prison for was drug trafficking. 

"Do you need some help," you ask, trying to be a good citizen. 

"Oh no, I got it," she insists. "I'll make it in two trips. I'm stronger than I look!" 

And don't you dare get caught looking to see what she put in the bag or she will give you one hell of a lecture. 

By the time all of this has passed, the class will be over and there will two minutes left in the work day. She's spent thirty-seven minutes in the store. Your register is unbalanced because now you don't have enough small bills to balance it and only have one $100 bill to get you through tomorrow. 

And that's why there are rules. 

On occasion, a new person will break the rules not knowing that there's rules. One such occasion was when Clair decided to be helpful. 

"You know what? I don't need this eucalyptus," Wren said. 

"Oh! I'll put it back for you," Clair suggested. And before Wren could protest, it was out of Wren's hands and nowhere near her purse. 

It was mentioned to Sage, who only worked for us one summer, that Wren had failed to pay for something and she immediately chased her out into the street. 

Wren drives very fast. 

If you cross her too many times, she'll make sure you never forget it. One day, she stomped her way in through the front door, angry. 

"You ain't treated me better than a damn THIEF," screamed the Flower Thief. 

Grandpa, who was helping Blue make a wedding bouquet at the time, departed from the desk. "Beg pardon?"

"A thief! You been treating me like a thief ever since they made you manager and I'm sick of it! I see you bringing in your henchmen, following me in the cooler, chasing me down the street. Treat me with some damn respect." 

Words were exchanged. They were not kind. We thought we'd seen the end of her. 

But she was back one week later, doing the same damn thing. 

So now there are rules. 

If you make something and there's an excess of flowers left over from the pack, you have to make something out of the leftovers or she'll pick through them and stuff them in her bag. 

If you cannot make something out of them, you must throw them out. 

If you throw them out, you must break the heads off first. 

The trash cans must be emptied every night before 5:00. 

We do not keep trash bags in plain sight. 

Break down all empty boxes, or she will use them in place of trash bags. 

Do not leave any food or drink where she can find it. 

Do not leave any half-used rolls of floral tape where she can find it. 

Do not let her know anything about you- lest she use it against you. 

If you speak of a Thief, you summon a Thief- speak quietly, and never her name or you invite trouble. 

The basic rules one makes when dealing with pests. Or fairy-folk.

There are rules and there are rules and there are rules. 

If you want to keep a pest away, you make these sorts of rules. But if you want to get rid of a pest indefinitely, you have to remove their food source. And Wren's food source was her discount. 

You start exercising your right to say 'no' to a customer in small ways. 

She saw a bunch of carnations in the trash and said: 

"Oh baby, these are still good! I'll take them off your hands for you!" 

"They've been sitting without water for hours." 

"They're still good!" 

"They were out in the sun." 

"Oh baby, I've been working with flowers for 40 years and I know that these will still be fine for a couple of days!" She picks a bunch of them out of the trash and shoves it in my face. "See, it's still stiff- it's still good!" 

"Okay," I said. And before I could stop myself: "Full price."

Her eyes just about popped out of her skull. If it were just a little bit colder, I would have been able to see steam coming out of her ears. 

We stared at each other for about a minute, waiting for the other to flinch. She took the bunch away from my face and threw them back into the trash. While she was in the cooler, I took the liberty of snapping the heads off of them and burying them further into the garbage. 

And so began a war between the flower shop and the Flower Thief.

She came in: every single night. And each night, she got me. 

Again.

"Oh no, baby! These carns are supposed to be 39 cents a stem. I can bring up the email." 

"Sure." She brings up the email. "I see that they are 39 cents but... this was for Saturday." 

"Yea, and I bought those carns on Saturday and you charged me full price!" 

"Saturday." 

"Yeah." 

"You didn't buy these on Saturday. You bought them Friday." 

"Well I didn't know that they'd be on sale, so I need them for that price because I didn't know they'd be on sale." 

"The sales are one-day only. I can't adjust a sale from Friday to reflect Saturday's sale... on Sunday." 

She made a noise that reminds me somewhat of a cement mixer. 

 And again.

"I got a bad banner last time, can you print me a new one?" She shows me the banner in question. It's white. The 't' and the 'h' in 'mother' ran together. 

"Sure." 

"Okay, I need it to say 'Beloved Mother' and I want it in pink." 

"Sure." 

I print it. I ring her up $5. 

"Oh baaaaaaby, no, that one should be free." 

"Grandpa said- banners start at $5." 

"Oh, but you sold me a bad one last time." 

"We haven't sold you a banner in three weeks. How long have y'all had that body sitting in your cooler?" 

She grumbled, and paid. 

 And again. 

"I swear you been workin' every night this week! You must be tired," she said, nerves plain in her voice. "When do you get a day off?" 

"When the work is done." 

"That ain't what I'm askin'. When's your next day off, baby?"

"I stop working when the work is done, Wren." 

She narrows her eyes, which is a fun change from them bugging out of her skull like a fruit fly. "You don't ever get any days off?" 

"When the work stops, I rest."

 And again. 

"I'll be in and out, I know y'all want to get out of here on time," she said- announcing her presence to the entire class. She piled her stuff across the register counter and Grandpa began ringing her up. 

"Oh baby..." 

"No. We're doing away with the discounts." 

There are twenty people in the workshop for the class and Grandpa doesn't want to make a scene. She pulls her into the back, and I choose to make my instructions louder to mask the sound of them yelling. 

"So you're going to take your hypericum berries and you're going to cut the stem to about ten inches-" 

"How can you do this to me?" 

"And you're going to slowly fill the vase with these berries to kind of set the shape of the arrangement." 

"After all these years and this is how you treat me?" 

"Fun fact- you might know hypericum berries as their more common name: St John's Wort! St. John's Wort has been used as a medication for depression prior to modern medicine." You see- I, too, have taken notes from the Chattering Order.

"You can't do this to me," Wren said, stamping her feet like a toddler.

"But I wouldn't recommend eating them. However, they do smell somewhat like baked brown sugar." 

Stamp, stamp, stamp. 

Wren threw herself into the cooler and began putting a bulk of her flowers back. 

"This is robbery," I heard her say to Grandpa at the register. 

"Is it now?" 

 And again. 

She came in and immediately reached for a half-empty box of oasis bricks (the green sponge material that we use to hold flowers.) She said few words to me, few at all. She talked to Carrie about how she was going out to the country for awhile, to take care of her nephew's property. She needed to stock up. And oh- don't worry about it, she knows what she's doing. She's part of The Family.

She is in no manner of speaking, a member of The Family that owns this shop. Not even a third cousin. 

I saw her beeline for a rose I'd set in the trash. I picked it up, opened my mouth, and bit the head off of it. She stood in the middle of the workshop, absolutely stunned. 

Rose petals have the vague texture of arugula, by the way. Slightly sweeter, though. Tough to swallow in one go. 

She ran back into the cooler and didn't talk to me. 

I began taking down numbers. 

27 bricks of oasis. One pack of roses. Ten calla lilies. 1/2 pack of assorted greens. 

I punched the numbers in to the register. As if sensing something was amiss, she emerged from the cooler. 

"$54? What do I have that's $54?" 

"The oasis. They're $2 each." 

"Oh no baaaaaby, they're $1." 

"I can text Grandpa and ask her." 

"... that won't be necessary. Why are you charging me $22.50 for roses? You know my prices by now!" 

"22.50 is the price for a pack of roses." 

"22.50 is everybody prices." 

"Welcome to 'everybody.'" 

"I ain't paid a price increase in 7 years!" 

"The price of milk went up, Wren. So does everything else." 

She was seeing red, I knew it. There's a vein in her forehead that pops out when she's angry and it's the same shape as the river that runs through my home town. She sized me up, as if wondering if she could take me. 

I'm 256 pounds of 4H beef, and I have a knife. Try me. 

"I'm gonna call Kyle on this." 

"Do it." A lifetime of retail has made me immune to 'I'd like to speak to the manager.' 

She grumbled and put things back. Carrie offered to watch her, I held up my hand. 

"Can you do something for me  on these carns? They're the last pack in there and they're lookin' kinda ratty." 

"9.50." 

"9.50's the regular price." 

"Regular price is $14." 

"No it ain't." 

"Is today. You're taking our last pack and we need those for funerals." 

She put them back. 

She gave me a credit card. It seemed fake, but it ran. Every time I see here, she's got a different card. Did she print this one this morning, too? At least she stopped trying to sell me on Bitcoin. As you can see, it made her incredibly wealthy. 

She gathered her things and left. "Guess I'm getting the rest of my flowers from KROGER!" 

There are things you want to say. Like... I hope they enjoy your company just as much as we do. Or: Haven't graced them with your presence in awhile, huh? But at the time, it was better just to watch her leave with her minuscule bunch of flowers. I get a choice in where I loan my voice. 

Not here. 

Is it over? Nah. She'll be back for another round. But one day she'll finally retire in the way that she's always threatened to. And then? Then it can be as over as it ever will be. 

It is shocking to come from a history of retail, where you're not allowed to even hint at the idea of a customer being wrong, where you have to override every single price change to get the scores up, where you have to just let them steal your things and pull the wool over your eyes... 

... to flat-out telling someone 'no.' 

"No." 

It's such a great word. 

There are rules and there are rules. 

And there are thieves that the rules are made for. 

And there are words like 'no.' 

And all those things are magic in very human ways. 

[jiminrings]

umm maybe this is me projecting bc i am messaging you during my break but for a drabble request, yoongi in a retail setting???? 😐😐😐😐 oc could either be a co-worker or a regular customer who asks too many questions 😔😌

retail-type beat

drabble week: day three

drabble week masterlist

pairing: customer!yoongi x retail worker!reader

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: "hi! almost thought you were hiding from me for a second. anyways, is this sweater wool or cotton?"

feedback + support mean the world to me!!

the last time you checked, work doesn’t start until nine

you kNEW it doesn’t start until 9 in the morning, so clearly that’s why you’re just wearing slides instead of your sneakers

the company uniform is either black or purple (it has to be from what the store is selling though so you can get to choose) with of course!!!! a lanyard!!!!

and you know this, because you’re still wearing your slides from home because it isn’t opening time yet

“goddamn it, i forgot to bring my slippers,” jin moans the moment he walks to see you, looking down on your feet that only reminds him he’d be stuck in his cool yet painfully uncomfy sneakers

he’s probably the only co-worker that you’re truly close with, not feeling the urge to sell him just to get a free day

“i told you to get the sneakers that nurses use!!”

hands-down one of the best purchases you’ve ever made

retail’s hard and it’s not exactly the best-paying job!!! thankfully the franchise owner is a bit more generous so that’s why you get slightly-higher hourly pay

“i would if they looked a little more seasoned,” jin snorts and stubbornly crosses his arms, “i might sacrifice my pride and buy some compression socks.”

OOOOOH THOSE ARE GOOD TOO

makes you feel like ur walking on air

but lol no seokjin isn’t ready to buy those just yet

he’ll settle on some blisters and putting salonpas patches because they look cooler that way, thank u very much <3

jin yawns, talking about finding a steam iron somewhere to replace a blowdryer so he could break in his shoes

“you wipe the glass this time.”

oh right he absolutely hates wiping down the glass — even before opening!!! even when there aren’t any grubby kids that would soil it instantly with their equally as grubby hands

you don’t mind it honestly

you might honestly like it

you prefer wiping the glass a hundred times over than steaming clothes

there is nOT a single thought in your head when you spray on the solution to the glass, rag and squeegee tucked between your fingers when-

maybe you should’ve hOLY FUCKING SHIT

it’s not opening!!!! it is nOT nine o’clock in the morning!!!!

you know that the shop you’re working in is pretty fucking famous and it’s located on one of the most populated streets ever BUT THERE’S ALREADY SOMEONE

although the bucket hat seems familiar from a distance and-

oh it’s just yoongi

yoongi?

yoongi’s already here????

:O

yoongi, the guy in question, is an always customer!!

no, not a regular customer — an always customer

he comes every week and maybe even twice within that period

he’s a nice talkative customer who likes asking questions and even occasionally guides the other customers on what to buy and where to find it

he’s yoongi!!! of course that’s expected of him

he’s been going here long since you ever started working here, and jin keeps iNSISTING that he’s been here more frequently since you started like a year ago

but doesn’t he come at eleven in the morning?

“woah, yoongi’s already here? — doesn’t he come at eleven in the morning?”

?!!?!!

“i was just thinking the exact same thing.”

jin bangs the glass with his fist and you automatically wince and frown

you dO like cleaning the glass panes!! you didn’t say you liked cleaning them a second time :(

“YOONGI!”

“YES??”

you push jin’s fist away to wipe at the smudge his hand left

“IT’S NOT OPENING YET!”

“I KNOW!!”

wow they’re uh

they’re really loud

sometimes you forget how seokjin could be since it’s been awhile since you heard him yell

lol no one’s been shoplifting recently so you haven’t been hearing him

a mind-blowing idea is for jin to come outside and talk to him in a normal talking voice, so your ears would stop ringing

“HEY! WHAT IF YOU JUST ENTER EARLY IN?”

“REALLY? IS THAT EVEN ALLOWED??”

"YOONGI, EVERYONE ON THE FLOOR KNOWS YOUR NAME. NAMJOON EVEN GAVE YOU A CUSTOMARY BIRTHDAY GIFT, AND WE DON'T GIVE CUSTOMARY BIRTHDAY GIFTS TO ANY OTHER CUSTOMER!!"

namjoon, who technically should be called mr. kim because no one really thinks to call the franchise owner with their government first name, is actually pretty cool

but he's too busy these days and haven't been visiting because he's too busy tending to his newly-opened coffee shop

as if the money he earns from opening his franchise in a day alone isn’t enough :0

"IF YOU SAY SO?"

you’re the one who hikes up the roll-up door in the slightest, enough for only yoongi to enter and not encourage anyone else to nOT enter when it’s still not opening time!!!!

he only has to crouch a little but he still has to dust his thousand-dollar pants as if he crawled through mud

his cream-colored slacks with a large black hoodie that has a giant bear embroidered on the middle of it and mules

... you don't hate his outfits

pretty cute, actually

it's yoongi!!

you'd never catch him lacking!!!

you don't even have to envision him rocking the shit out a paper bag

one time, he came in the store wearing the WRINKLIEST brown linen jumpsuit that no iron could possibly fix and he still pulled it off

toon-teen-ten!

oh god that’s the sound of the intercom

and the sound of the intercom equates to jungkook

... as in jeon jungkook who’s the floor manager and his constant top one goal for every month is to endearingly annoy seokjin

he’s young and mischievous!! but if you were to ask him, only you and jungkook are the people in this floor he’d actually get drinks with outside the shop

“seokjin come to the lingerie department right now, please.”

you see the thing is :D

“now this is just funny

there’s walkie-talkies for everyone here!! jungkook likes intercoms, and seokjin like yelling!!

“WHY ME AGAIN?? I’VE ALREADY FOLDED-“

“there’s a literal rat and i need yOU to catch it!! you know that i hate rodents!!”

him and jungkook are forever gonna be on this eldest-youngest brother dynamic and while jungkook pouts and shared the extras that he gets, jin is the one who kills the bugs :D

10/10 totally fair

fine then!! he’ll catch that goddamn rat

that leaves you and yoongi. alone.

“why did you come so early this time?”

you ask out of courtesy, genuinely baffled too because you know that yoongi’s a creature of habit

yoongi’s eyes pop out, head fervently shaking no

“i’m typically not the type to do that, no.”

???

is he-

are you-

are you both talking about the same thing

yoongi’s face flushes in embarrassment, his mind just then registering what you were actually saying

“o-oh! it’s because last night, i dreamt of the sweater i saw here last week!!"

oh right

typical :D

"need me to find it for you or do you already know the aisle?"

you align the folded shirts by the corners as you pass, looking at yoongi briefly while he trails behind yoh

“not unless you pulled it out already."

he's hoping that dear god you haven't

the black sweater with the moon aND buildings on it and when you turn on the flash, the windows of said building reflect it right back???

he SHUDDERS just by thinking about it

it’s gonna go with everything!!! an instant boost of serotonin every time he sees it

"for you, yoongi?" you shake your head, a small smile on your face that he only sees every once in a while, "i'd comb through the entire stock room."

wait

that’s sweet :((

“i’ll hold you to that.”

you know what??? you're less cranky when it's only him, and a couple of hundred people less

your smiles aren't for customer-service and you don't have misplaced clothes hanging from your shoulders and your walkie-talkie isn't talking in latin

or when no one’s asking you to reach something from the top shelf

or when you’re on the way to the intercom because a kid got separated from their mother

or when someone’s approaching for a refund for a shirt who has a stain that’s 100% no doubt customer error

his feet immediately move on its own because he’s memorized the outline of this too many times

there it is!!!

the sweater he’s dreamt about is already on his hands, only a handful few left

the piece is considerably more expensive than majority of the items here, so that’s why they’re all spaced-out instead of being clustered altogether

yoongi rarely goes to the dressing room, regardless if it's a full-house or not!!

he could just look at an item and immediately tell that it’s made for him ta know

he's beyond sure that this sweater fits him perfectly, but he may want to be here a little longer

yoongi may have say inside one of the fitting rooms and spent a little time in it just to sit on the chair inside, not fitting the sweater at all

he's gotten his item SO quick and he wished he could've just walked slower or pretended to not know where it was!!!

he wants to spend a little more time here

you don't hate yoongi!!! but sometimes he could just be... yoongi

he's quite talkative and strikes it whenever, making you unguarded

he could be overbearing but like an overbearing kind of nice

yoongi’s nice!! he’s the type to ask a lot of questions sure, but he’s also the type that would point the other customers what to buy and where to find it

he’s the type to find an obvious faulty stitch on a shirt, but he’d just quietly exchange it instead of asking for the manager

he’s the type you wouldn’t want to stand behind in line because it would take a long time for him to finish, but he’s also the same one who buys giftcards with generous amounts for family and friends

yoongi’s kind of cool and that’s cemented on your mind

"what do you got for me?"

he materializes out of nowhere, spooked because you thought he already ringed up and was out of the store already

it just happens to be ten minutes before opening and you’re doing last-minute arrangements on a new spread

well, yoongi most certainly is still here and his attention’s piqued

“we have... a new collection."

you clear your theory, awkwardly gesturing because you’re more than aware that yoongi hasn’t seen this either

“yeah, i know that. but like, what's going on??" he gestures to the displays and racks, squinting his eyes, "what's the theme? what's the material?"

:O

uhm you haven't read the brief about this

you aren't even sURE if there is one!!

doesn't everyone make up something on the spot in retail

or atleast that’s what seokjin tells you

“the theme," you clear your throat, scratching your temple before gesturing towards the full rack, "is everything."

“everything?

yoongi’s eyebrow is raised, not expecting that answer at all

you look back to the new feature, and nOW that you think about it,, there's no cohesion at all

“y-yes. the shop was going for the theme of uhm, everything... all at once — yeah, that's it. everything all at once."

it’s a nice way to put it when not one bit of the new collection goes together

“hmmmm. i like it,” yoongi nods solemnly and tilts his head, “and the material?"

"the material?"

you repeat, eyesight not the best so you can’t really tell anything off the bat or uh aNYTHING really

"t-the material is shirt."

they're all shirts!!! that’s it

yoongi grimaces in disgust, the first time you’ve seen of it

“what?? you can't say that.”

he outsretches his hand to the nearest article, holding it up by the hanger

"this, right here, is satin. see how it shines like silk, but doesn't feel like silk?"

uhm yes

you have a gist of what he’s saying but yes

yoongi picks up a pink button shirt this time, flipping it inside out

"this, is silk charmeuse. look at the inside, is it smooth?"

okay where is he going with this

he urges you to put your hand on the fabric and uhhh you didn't sign up for this???

it looks smooth, sure!! end of discussion

"yea-..."

“it's not. it's rough. it is smooth, but it's dull. silk charmeuse is still silk, but the backing it has is different from the lustrous part."

okay yoongi

you’re starting to feel uncomfortable and it has to do something with the tone he’s using on you

“can't believe you didn't know that!! how about this," he plucks out a shirt with a tiny print at the middle of it, "cotton or polyester and rayon?"

"i don't-"

there’s an itch in your neck that you want to scratch, a tell-tale sign that you just wANT to remove yourself from this situation

“come on!! it's a dead giveaway!!"

:((

why is he being like this?

toon-teen-ten!

“y/n, panty section please. jin almost got bit by a mouse and he needs comforting. two minutes until opening, people!!"

jungkook speaks at the right moment, and jin’s little incident is enough of a reason for you to bolt

yoongi's still looking at you but you can't afford to embarrass yourself further

“bye. happy shopping."

huh?

yoongi’s face falls when you leave as cold as that!! typically when you were going to show him out (when it’s regular shop hours), there’d be a smile :((

there's not even a customer service smile :(((

yoongi goes to the only cashier that's open so far and it happens to be far away from you and a teary seokjin

seokjin's fine he didn't even get bit!! that much he could say

but are you okay? uhhh you kinda went cold on him by the end and he thought he started on a good note

yoongi doesn't visit for another week and you don't find yourself counting the days until you meet him again

you did not have a devil wears prada moment where anne hathaway has an epiphany for fashion knowledge

you just felt belittled at a job that isn’t exactly what you wanted anyways

needed, yes. but wanted? not exactly

you know that basic knowledge about clothes is required in a retail job like this and you have it!! you do!!!!

you’d know more if only there were actual available resources for employees to know!!! nobody besides yoongi asks anyways

you’d know if you have time to yourself and aren’t working two jobs trying to make ends meet and tHEN you could pull up a book or something!!!

you’d know if your life is as lax as yoongi’s and could have the budget to buy new things for yourself every single week

“jin, i need to ask you something.”

he hums as called, looking at you briefly until you get on with it

“do you know the difference between silk and silk charmeuse?"

he shrugs casually while you're sitting inside one of the closed-off fitting rooms to catch a break, sharing a burger because the store’s packed-packed

why did you ask him? it’s too easy

“one's made by worms, and the other's a pokémon."

that,.,., could not possibly be righti* it brings you a laugh and you honestly don’t even try to correct him

it’s 11:15 and you kNOW it’s time to resume your shift, straightening your shirt because atleast one (1) person would hound you when they see a familiar red lanyard

oh you’re hounded alright

“hi! almost thought you were hiding from me for a second.”

yoongi????

oh

you haven’t seen him for a week and you don’t know what to feel in all honesty

"anyways, is this sweater wool or cotton?"

wow

you're quite speechless as he holds up the item

really?

this thing all over again???

why are you even surprised

the only thing that yoongi gets your customer service smile, fishing your hand from inside the sweater to show him

“70% wool."

that's it???

NO GOOD MORNING????

you're mad at him, aren't you?

he knew it :((

he knew something was wrong but he just didn’t know what

he’s gonna fix this!! he will

which is why the very next day, he takes the day off from his work and comes to the store at a time he knows you’d surely be there

you're on cashier duty and you like it actually :D

you have an option to sit and the way you’re just gonna scan pricetags (and occasionally enter the code if it doesn’t work) is really appealing

“good morning!"

you’re about to grab the items from the basket laid on the counter and your eyes could only see the very familiar hand

the same one you’ve seen go through racks and racks

yoongi??

he sets his items one by one, buying himself more time

the first one is the same exact sweater he came to wait for before opening

“you already bought this."

you tell him even before you could hold it back, looking back at him briefly before you scan the tag

“i know. i just wanted to see you."

oh

oh

yoongi threw a bunch of other items (individually) so it would be a longer talk, but you scan each item quickly that he’s grabbing things from the counter

hand sanitizer!!! hair ties!!! keychains!!!! yeah he needs them

“i'm sorry that i tend to spring shit on you most of the time. you don't need to know the difference between silk and silk charmeuse."

you only chuckle then, a meek smile on your face

"it's okay, yoongi.”

“it's not."

... it’s not?

yoongi fidgets, opening and closing his mouth like he’s nervous!!! he’s never had his credit card cancelled but he could only feel that this type of jitterness is more than the former

“can i make it up to you? no lanyards, no baskets, no customer service?? i don't wanna fuck things up with you."

“don't feel obligated-"

“i know i could be a condescending ass who expects people to automatically know fabric and whatnot, but i wanna make it up to you."

alright yoongi’s a really good apology-maker

you mIGHT be even flustered a little

“you're holding the line, yoongi.”

“i cleared my schedule."

“i haven’t!!!!!” - guy in the back

“dinner at my place at 8. i-i promise to make your hard-earned break after your shift worthwhile!!!"

hmmm

maybe that wouldn’t hurt

“okay. just because you're holding the line."

“fine by me."

:))

yoongi transfers all the items he bought, all but one, to his tote bag

he hands back the paper bag to you, scribbling his address on the back of the receipt before he does

he lingers a little while at the counter, the people behind him ALREADY switching lanes to the one seokjin’s just opened beside you

it's the sweater that he has too

yoongi scratches the back of his head, this time being the meek one

“what? m-matching sweaters for our first date. s'cute."

#drabble week #yoongi imagine #yoongi imagines #min yoongi imagines #yoongi oneshots #yoongi oneshot #yoongi drabble #yoongi drabbles #yoongi au #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fanfiction #min yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi oneshot #min yoongi scenarios #yoongi headcanon #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst

[watchmegetobsessed]

The best present - Harry Styles

Sequel to UPDATE

on demand, this is a fluffy little sequel to update, hope you’ll like it! tagging the people who asked for said sequel: @urdadbtch​ @f-vasquezp​ 

word count: 3k

masterlist

Harry has a soft spot for surprises. Especially if he is the one planning them for a loved one. The overflowing joy he sees in one’s eyes upon receiving a carefully planned surprise just gives him a different type of satisfaction in life, one he couldn’t live without.

His life has taken a pleasant turn ever since Y/N entered it, virtually and in a real dimension. It hasn’t been the easiest with his hectic schedule and her anchored life in Spokane, but with some time paid to adjusting to the situation they managed to make it work. He wouldn’t have settled for anything else, because he just simply couldn’t imagine his life without her anymore and luckily she felt the same way.

Harry fell in love with her quicker than what it took for the weather to turn cold in the fall. It felt like the most natural thing that has ever happened to him, to fall for her whole being, everything that’s her on the inside and outside. Harry often caught himself thinking what he did in life to earn such a beautiful person in his life. He hasn’t figured that one out yet.

Y/N was like a warm summer breeze on a hot august evening, easily charmed anyone and everyone Harry introduced her to. She slowly but surely met some of the most important people in Harry’s life and he just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that it felt like she’s been part of his life since forever even on the first meetings.

“She is wonderful, I love her,” his mother told him when they finally had the chance to meet upon a weekend they spent in New York. It was a lucky time when both his mother and Y/N were free and he took the chance to cook up a mini vacation in the city right away. Anne was thrilled to meet the woman that had her son wrapped around her fingers even before meeting.

Harry felt like he was on the top of the world when he saw the two women get along like they’ve been friends for years, it filled his heart even more.

The situation was quite the same with Gemma, in just a blink of an eye they were making plans on their own not including Harry, which hit him a little hard in the chest, but he was happy knowing they found the common ground.

“You amaze me so much,” he once told Y/N when they were spending the night at her place, one of those weekends when Harry flew all the way to Spokane just to spend less than 48 hours with her. Even with the long flights and hustle that came with the traveling he wouldn’t have done it any other way. If he could see her smile for just ten minutes he would have travelled days.

“I do?” she asked smirking up at him, putting her book aside as she rested her chin on his tattooed chest.

“Mhm,” he hummed with a quirky smile. “In so many ways.”

“Write a song about them so I can listen to it,” she told him as a joke. Little did she know that not even a week later that’s exactly what Harry did. It was another addition to the endless list of songs she inspired.

December creeped its way around the corner faster than they were expecting and in a blink of an eye every store was filled with Christmas ornaments and wrapping papers, the most iconic Christmas songs were played everywhere, making those who work at retail want to throw Michael Bublé and Mariah Carey right out the window for every having the thought of recording Christmas music.

Harry and Y/N had plans for the holidays. They agreed on spending three days from 22nd to 24th with his family and then fly to Portland to be with her family from the 25th to 27th before they head to New York City to spend the last few days left from the year together and celebrate the new year at a party Harry was invited to.

These plans were set in stone right until Harry decided to surprise his lover with the best gift he could think about. It was a tough call and took him weeks to arrange but Harry was able to get Y/N’s brother to leave for the holidays earlier, on the 21st instead of just the 26th.

“Why are we changing it again?” Y/N asks curiously as she sits on Harry’s lap when they are changing their plane tickets so they could start the holidays at her family instead of his.

“Mom is not going to be home until the 24th,” he lies and then adds: “Gemma is also gonna only arrive on the 23rd. Figured it would work better. We would be at your parents’ from the 21st to the 23rd, go to the UK from 24th to 26th and there is an early flight so we would be in Portland by the time your brother arrives.”

He had spent a long time figuring out how to manage the dates so she wouldn’t be suspicious. Seemingly, it worked, because Y/N nods as she stands up and walks over to the kitchen.

“Alright. But isn’t that too much of a hustle to go back and forth two times?”

“Not that horrible,” Harry smiles in her way, his fingers moving fast on the keyboard to make the right changes for their trips before she returns and sees that the dates are not exactly the same as he told her. Luckily, she hops onto the kitchen counter as he finishes up and closes his laptop feeling ecstatic about the surprise he has planned for her.

“It’s gonna be busy,” she points out as Harry walks over to her, placing his hands on each side of her on the counter.

“But we will be busy together,” he grins leaning closer to steal a kiss.

As the days pass by Harry is growing more and more excited about the surprise. He almost slipped a few times upon talking about the holidays, but managed to save the situation just in time. Y/N had no idea what he had in store for her.

“That’s all your stuff for our trip?” Y/N asks when Harry arrives to her place with his decent, normal sized suitcase that has his essentials for the next about seven days while they will be on the road. He glances down at his bag before walking inside and setting it down in the hallway.

“Love, I’ve learned how to pack in a smart way,” he tells her teasingly before pecking her on the lips while he takes his coat off and hangs it in the hallway.

“Yeah, but it’s an entire week. I’m going with twice this much.”

“’Cuz you are packing for New York as well. We’ll be staying in my place, remember? I don’t need stuff for that time,” he reminds her and he is right, but she is still amazed at how he managed to fit everything he needs into just one suitcase.

That night Harry lies awake with her sleeping form next to him. Looking around the room he thinks about how this is the same place he fell in love with her, but it was through just a screen. All the plants, the furniture, the bed he saw behind her in the videos are now his reality as well and in just a few short months they have grown so close to each other, he couldn’t imagine his life in a different way.

“What’s the matter?” he hears her groggy voice coming from next to him and looking to the side he sees that she is blinking at him in the dark.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, turning to his side to face her, noses almost touching on the pillow.

“Then why aren’t you sleeping?” she asks, sneaking a hand to his back under the covers and she starts to gently stroke his skin with his fingertips, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Just… excited about the holidays,” he whispers with a shrug. He can’t tell her that he is excited to meet your family, especially your brother since he is kind of the reason you ever got the chance to meet. He feels like he is too worked up about meeting her parents and cousins, but he can’t wait to feel like he is part of her family. What he doesn’t know is that she already sees him as part of it, has been since she realized how deeply in love she is with him.

“Mmm, excited about your gifts?” she teases him with closed eyes, but her fingers are still moving on his back. Harry lets out a soft chuckle.

“Especially about those.”

He brings his arm around her frame and pulls her to his chest as they make themselves comfortable under the covers, legs tangled, her face resting on his chest as he gently strokes her arms, soothing her back into sleep.

“I love you,” he whispers thinking she has already fallen back asleep. It wasn’t the first time he has said the words to her, but tonight just feels a little different.

“Love you too,” she mumbles back pressing a kiss to his naked chest before she sighs and lets herself fall back into sleep.

 Her family knew about the change in Sammy’s arrival, but Harry made them promise they won’t say a word to Y/N, keeping it as a surprise.

Her mother welcomes the two of them with warm excitement, the house already smelling amazing from all the different cookies she’s been baking, the dinner is also in the making on the stove.

“Finally here!” she hugs both of them, even though she hasn’t officially met Harry, only talked to him on the phone about Sammy’s early arrival. “Come on in!”

The two of them get rid of their winter attire before Harry turns to her mother holding out a hand to make their first meeting official.

“So nice to meet ya, I’m Harry.”

Instead of taking his hand her mother pulls him into another tight hug that he returns with a soft chuckle.

“I’m so happy you are finally here! I’ve heard so much good about you,” she tells him with a sly, knowing smile while Y/N is not looking. “I can tell you are a blessing to the family already.”

“Thank you,” he nods smiling.

Harry meets Y/N’s dad and two of her cousins who have arrived earlier and they all gather in the living room just talking at first, then soon enough they start playing board games. They get stuck on Activity, the pairs are Y/N and Harry, her mom and dad, and her two cousins. The competition is burning up the house, Harry can tell they all take the game very seriously.

Through the game Harry keeps glancing out the window, waiting for a car to park at the driveway. He has sent a car to pick Sammy up, but since he didn’t have his phone on him just yet he couldn’t let Harry know when he would be arriving exactly.

Just after he is done drawing in one of the rounds he sees the black car pull up at the house. Harry pretends to get a call and he can see the excitement grow in her parents’ eyes as they already know what this means, while Y/N is oblivious to anything that’s about to happen. Harry quietly makes his way out of the house hoping he didn’t draw her attention, and that’s when Sammy gets out of the car thanking the driver for the ride. As he turns around Harry is stunned to see how much the two of them resemble. He sees her eyes in his, their ears curl the same way and he has the exactly same hair color as her. There was no doubt the two of them were related.

“Harry, right?” he asks holding his hand out firmly that Harry takes smiling.

“Yeah. Sammy, I supposed.”

“The one and only,” he chuckles holding his bag’s strap over his shoulder.

“I would love to chat more, but I think we should move inside first,” Harry suggests and Sammy follows him up the few stairs that leads to the front door.

“Harry! Come on, we are up next!” Y/N calls out from the living room as the two guys walk inside.

She is seated on the floor, her back to the hallway so she doesn’t see when the two men walk in, grinning from ear to ear. She only notices something is happening when she sees her mother gasp happily at the sight of her son.

“What—“ she starts but turning around her words disappear as she stares up at her brother who she hasn’t seen in what feels like ages.

Harry overflows with joy when he sees how shocked she is, in the best way possible. He watches her leap to her feet and jolt right at Sammy, throwing herself into his arms as he lifts her up, twirling her around in excitement.

“Hi there, little sis,” he chuckles still holding her close as she is fighting with her tears upon the surprise she just had.

“How… What are you doing here early?” she asks in total awe as she tries to comprehend that he is truly here, in her arms.

“Ask you boyfriend,” Sammy chuckles looking in Harry’s direction. “He arranged an early leaving for me, I don’t know how, but he did,” Sammy adds letting go of his sister.

As her parents make their way to their son Y/N moves over to Harry, still in complete disbelief that he did this.

“How?” she asks, arms snaking up around his neck while his hands get a hold of her waist.

“I have… connections,” he shrugs shyly and she just shakes her head laughing before she pulls him down for the sweetest thank you kiss.

“I can’t believe you,” she sighs pecking his lips once again.

“What I can’t believe is that he could keep it a secret this long,” Sammy speaks up.

“Wait, how long have you known this?”

“A couple weeks. Got it finalized early December,” Harry admits, feeling proud that he could make this happen.

“So this is why we had to change the tickets!” she gasps in realization. “When do we have to leave for real then?”

“We are staying until the 25th, our plane leaves in the afternoon,” he smiles warmly as he sees her eyes light up. According to the original plans they would have had only two days with Sammy at home, but this way it’s almost four entire days. “This was the most I could get, Love,” Harry adds, feeling a bit guilty that they are leaving to see his family, but Y/N shakes her head.

“This is absolutely perfect. You gave me the best present,” she smiles cupping his face in her hands as she pulls him down for another kiss.

This Christmas goes down as the best one she has ever had. The time they spend with her family holds a special place in her heart, especially because she loves seeing her family and Harry get along so well. She now knows what he felt when she met his mother and sister. Seeing him be so kind to her mom and have loads of things to talk about with her dad and brother warms her in a way only Harry can make her feel.

The feeling doesn’t change when they arrive to his home. She feels like she is part of the family just as much as he is. They spend some splendid days with his extended family, enjoying the spirit of the holidays and she is almost sad when it’s time for them to leave.

“Come back soon, Sweetheart,” Anne tells her when they are saying goodbye at the airport.

“I will, if he is okay with bringing me next time,” she chuckles glancing at Harry by her side.

“Oh I sure am, Love,” he smiles kissing the top of her head.

Those couple of days they spend together in the city holds memories they will surely never forget. They finally get to spend time together without anything interrupting them, just enjoying the little moments, falling deeper in love with each passing day.

The last day arrives in a fast pace and neither of them can believe the year is ending so soon. They spend the day in bed mostly before it’s time to get ready for the party one of Harry’s friends is hosting in Manhattan.

It’s a nice way to end such a wonderful year, they mix and mingle with the guests but keep each other close, especially when they reach the last minutes of the year left. Harry takes her hand and pulls her out to the balcony to have some privacy before the countdown.

“Crazy how we are here,” he sighs as his arms are wrapped around her figure, warming her body as much as he can in the New York City winter time.

“Who would have thought?” she chuckles placing a sweet kiss to his jawline.

“Not me,” he admits laughing. “But I’m glad it’s my reality now.”

Y/N smiles up at him with gratitude in her eyes, just when the countdown starts inside.

“Have you ever had a New Year’s Eve kiss?” Harry asks as he pulls her closer, if that’s even possible.

“Sadly, I have not.”

“Then can I have the pleasure to be your first?” he smirks down at her and she just nods biting into her bottom lip.

“Three! Two! One!” the guests call out inside as the whole city erupts at the same time, fireworks go off and cheering echoes through the building, but it all fades into nothing as Harry leans down and kisses her sweetly. They spend the first couple of moments of the new year melted together until they pull back for air. The crispy winter air has turned his nose red quickly and she is lost in how adorable but handsome he still manages to look.

“Harry Styles,” she sighs feeling defeated by her own feelings. “You are one wonderful creature, you know that?” she wonders, as if she was saying her inner thoughts out loud. Harry chuckles as he presses a kiss to her forehead.

“That makes the two of us, Love.”

I’m opening a Harry taglist, let me know if you are interested in being on it!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n

[fallen-in-dreams]

Rumours

Also on AO3. Pairing: Gaara/Sakura. Summary: Sakura overhears a spicy rumour about her relationship with Gaara and their friendship will never be the same again. GaaSaku. Canonish. Prompt: Week 1: Dating. Rated: T. Words: 4,433. Status: Complete.

Author note: My first of the weekly prompts for the tumblr GaaSaku Events. *Cross your fingers that I can do all of the ones I'm trying to finish.* Enjoy. ^_^

Warnings/tags: Just some mild angst and mentions of ShikaTema.

This is for the 2021 GaaSaku Event @gaasaku-fanfests​. I seem to be posting for events late or barely on time this year. Sorry. :)

.

  .:.

“Sometimes your heart sees what your eyes can’t.”

.

  It was supposed to be just another harmless outing. Sakura often took Gaara with her when she went shopping for presents. He was so hopeless at remembering birthdays and holidays like Christmas that she was doing him a favour by dragging him around with her.

And picking out gifts from both of them.

She hadn’t really thought there was anything wrong with that. Or that anyone would read more into it than it really was. Of course, the Kazekage spending time with a foreign kunoichi would get everyone’s attention, but like all exciting new things it would get old, and they’d soon move onto other things.

This was why, all these months on from their first public shopping outing, Sakura was still brushing off the curious glances as she pulled Gaara along, by the sleeve of his work robes. Twelve months she’d been in Suna. Six were spent aiding in a joint training of medical personnel as a part of a healing exchange program to further relations, and then eight weeks as the head of the hospital because Gaara was adamant nobody was doing it better. The last four months had been her lazy months, which consisted of her usual physical training regimen but also acting like a tourist and dragging Gaara along for the ride. So just what she’d been doing before, minus the teaching and hospital visits. Sakura had already achieved what she’d set out to do in this mission, but it hadn’t even crossed her mind to cut her time here short.

And she was finally used to being a constant source of scrutiny for the people of Wind. So here she was, for the second time this week, dragging Gaara out of his office on the rare occasion that he didn’t have either a shit load of paperwork or overdue training of his own to do.

The retailer looked up at them as they stepped into her shop, then smiled and bowed lightly.

“Welcome, Lord Kazekage. Haruno-san.”

“Kitana-san,” Sakura addressed her quickly before tugging on Gaara. He obediently followed and as usual, she did not notice the knowing smile of the elderly woman as she led the redhead around. Her eyes perused the rows of trinkets instead. They were supposed to be getting an engagement present for Temari and Shikamaru. It had been three weeks since the date for their party had been announced and nothing seemed to be good enough.

“Maybe we should get them each a present,” she thought out loud. “What do you think, Gaara?”

His eyes widened slightly. “One from each of us?”

“No, I mean one each from both of us.” He still looked confused. “A total of two presents,” she added, and he nodded. She didn’t remark on how he had stiffened and then relaxed at her words. Gaara was just weird like that.

“Ino got them a weird sex toy,” she said, rubbing her cheek with her finger as Gaara’s face turned pink. “Uh, and I think Hinata said she wanted to get her some wind scrolls.” Her friends’ letters had been all over the place. Everyone was excited that Temari and Shikamaru had finally gotten official and were moving their relationship forward.

“I…uh.” He crossed his arms over his chest, which was actually more of a nervous habit for him these days. “Well… we can do better.”

She giggled and locked arms with him. “Of course. I was thinking,” she said as they moved through the shop slowly. “Temari’s always gotta pretend to be this tough, warrior woman. But I’ve smelled the candles coming from her room. I was thinking of bath salts, but it isn’t a good gift for Shikamaru. But that was before this whole individual gift idea.”

Gaara thought that Shikamaru could use a decent salt bath. They could use it together. The idea of it made him blush and he pointedly avoided eye contact with Sakura as she babbled on about clothes accessories. Apparently, Shikamaru had once confessed to her that he thought belts were interesting.

“Maybe bath salts and candles.” Gaara said, interrupted her gushing about the embroidery on a handmade belt. “His & Hers style.”

Sakura squeezed his arm affectionately. “Brilliant idea.”

She pulled him along gently, not needing to tug too hard because he was fine with following her lead. This shop was mostly popular among young women and older couples. Their wares ranged from scented candles to antique dolls and handmade clothes.

“What do you think about this one?” Sakura asked, taking a strange bust off a shelf. Maybe his mind just went to stationery too quickly, but it just looked like an oversized paper weight to him.

“No good?” She asked when Gaara didn’t respond. He sighed and she tossed it aside. “Okay, next odd little smelly thing.”

He let out a light chuckle at that. Gaara pointed out a few more ideas and they half-heartedly argued over them. They picked up a few bath salts anyway, since Sakura was interested in some for herself, before leaving the story without a present for his sister and future brother-in-law.

“We’ll just have to keep looking,” Sakura said, nodding to herself as they made their way through the crowds of the downtown market. She was oblivious to the interested stares and giggling children.

Truth be told, Gaara was fine with letting Sakura make the decision for him. He hadn’t had to worry about choosing gifts for almost a year and he was happy with that. Growing up with no childhood had ensured he had little experience in the matter, but she was a good teacher when it came to social situations.

They agreed their last chance for a good gift would be the ninja resource store on the edge of the market. Such a place would normally not be in the civilian district, but the proprietors were very good at preventing civilians from buying shinobi utensils. Gaara bought an ornate spear from them two years ago that had been imported from the Land of Iron. He’d started collecting special weapons and suggested to Sakura that they have something ordered in.

It would solve the problem and save time. Not that he wasn’t enjoying himself. Gaara looked forward to these outings more than he was willing to admit out loud.

“Geez.” She hip-butted him. “You’re full of great suggestions today.”

Sakura watched as he blushed and mumbled about looking for something for himself in the shop and as he wandered away, this gave her the perfect time to sneak away. She knew full well he was collecting unique weapons and had one in mind for him. It wasn’t a gift for any special occasion, and she didn’t bother guying things for his siblings unless it was for something in particular, but Sakura couldn’t help herself with Gaara. Her friendship with him was on another level compared with Kankuro and Temari.

When it came to birthdays, Christmas, or just her wanting him to have something special, she’d long ago stopped agonising over the “what does one even buy a kage who doesn’t seem to want anything?” question. Personal gifts that showed she knew him were always well-received. He still had the katana shaped candlestick ornament that she’d bought him for his birthday, sitting in his study. Temari said he never lit it up, which to anyone who knew him, meant he loved it. It would never get used and therefore last.

Sakura kept one eye on where Gaara was in the shop at all times, and the other on the aisle of antique weapons as she perused. That was how she ended up standing in an aisle listening to two gossiping kunoichi. She’d just been minding her own business, looking over a row of ornamental kunai, when the voices carried over to her from the other side of the shelf she was leaning toward.

When she heard her own name being uttered, Sakura peered through the gaps in the shelf. They were a couple of chunin and either had below average sensory skills and didn’t notice her or didn’t care that she was eavesdropping. Sakura didn’t recognise them, so they definitely weren’t a part of the medical units she’d trained, nor did they frequent the hospital. They were also both staring off in the direction that Sakura knew Gaara to be.

The blonde giggled. "Lord Kazekage dotes on Sakura-san, it’s so cute! They just have to be dating!"

The brunette nodded. “Of course. But why haven’t they announced it?”

“Because they’re shy, silly.”

“Yeah right.”

“I’m serious. Minamo said everyone’s talking about it.”

“He’s probably still innocent I bet.”

Sakura rolled her eyes. It was so weird to hear people claiming she had a romantic relationship with Gaara while discussing whether or not he had sexual experience. But it was just a couple of awe struck chunin (and the claim of some random friend of theirs). She decided to turn away but stilled at the next line out of the blonde’s mouth.

“Maybe Sakura-san took his v-card,” the girl snickered, much to the appreciation of the other chunin. “Can you just imagine?”

Sakura flushed from head to toe, struggling to hold her composure. She didn’t want to imagine that. Her heart might just explode. Sure, Gaara was… attractive. But would she have sex with him? He was her friend. They’d never been anything other than friends.

Not that I would want more, she told herself, holding a hand to her chest.

“I bet he’d be a tender lover,” the other girl said, sighing deeply. “Haruno-san is so lucky.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” the blonde said, a devious look on her face. “I think Lord Gaara’s hit the jackpot too. Sakura-san has all that medical knowledge about the body. Imagine what she could do with it.”

“Like what?”

“Get his blood pumping. Warm him up. You know,” the blonde waggled her eyebrows and they both giggled. “She’d have him hard in no time!”

They giggled again and the brunette snorted before covering her mouth, mortified at herself.

Sakura stood there like a stunned mullet as they turned away from watching Gaara and started giggling and whispering among themselves. What the hell had she just heard?

“Sakura.”

She spun on the spot, startled. She hadn’t noticed his approaching chakra, engrossed in the conversation she was overhearing. Sakura turned beet red. He looked concerned when she opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. When he made to move toward her, Sakura went into panic mode, charging at him and grabbing his arm. She ushered Gaara away, hoping he hadn’t heard any of that conversation. Knowing him, he wouldn’t even realise what they were talking about.

Gaara leaned in to whisper in her ear, “I found something special for you” and Sakura let out an involuntary sound she’d never heard before.

“Are you okay?”

Am I okay?

Two random chunin had just inserted mental images of her having sex with Gaara into her head. She was not okay. But she nodded anyway, not wanting to explain why her heart was now thumping. Blood rushing to her head. His hand fell to the small of her back. The warmth of his touch had never been more prominent than it was right now as he added a slight pressure to steer her toward the front counter. He wasn’t pushing her. Gaara never pushed her. He was always kind to her. It was so stimulating when he did that.

Feelings she’d kept buried for almost twelve months started bubbling to the surface and Sakura wasn’t prepared for the onslaught. How could she have forgotten this? Suddenly, she remembered the first time his touch had affected her. They’d known each other for years and two weeks into her long-term mission to Suna, she’d been lonely and exhausted when quite suddenly, Sakura realised those warm and fuzzies she’d been feeling were directed at a certain Kazekage. Her twenty-first birthday had come and gone, and she didn’t have any life goals other than revolutionising the medical world. It was a great goal. Professionally.

But after an innocent comment from Hinata about her love life, her birthday had gone from celebrations of “I have my whole life ahead of me” to morose “I’m going to die alone” thoughts, which were reflected in her spending the rest of the night drunk and being shadowed by Ino who was worried she might bring down a building or two, in her destructive angst.

Gaara continued to watch her as she worked through her mental problems but said nothing. He didn’t need to tell her he was concerned. It was written all over his face. It was just another thing she loved about him.

“Let me take you home,” he said. That deep voice of his made her shiver. Sakura felt her body flush again when she heard giggling behind her. (Were those girls following them now?) There was no way they hadn’t heard that.

After a few moments, he started rubbing her back in what he obviously thought was a soothing manner and she blinked heavily at him. Right. She needed to get out of here.

She cleared her throat. “Sure,” she said, her voice a little strained. Out of habit, she wrapped her arm around his. He was a lifeline as she tried to sort out her dysfunctional thoughts. The chunin girls’ conversation had opened a can of worms and she didn’t know how to put them back in.

Sakura glanced backwards in time to catch the women whispering behind their hands and staring at her and Gaara unabashedly. When had her outings with Gaara started such salacious rumours?

And more importantly: why did these people think they were dating?

  .:.

  “Gimme a screaming orgasm!”

Kankuro took the seat next to Sakura as she made her order to the bartender and chuckled.

“You might want to tone that drink down a little,” Kankuro said with a wink. “Gaara might get jealous.”

“Ugh!” Sakura groaned. “Not you too!”

“Whatever do you mean?”

She pointed a finger at him. “You all are talking about me behind my back. Starting rumours and talking about my sex.”

Kankuro snorted. “Your what?”

“I’m a joke, Kankuro-chan.”

“Please don’t call me that.” He grimaced.

She sighed. “What are you doing here?”

Kankuro waved a hand at the bartender. “Another screaming orgasm, please.”

Sakura snorted. “You’re getting more than I am, then.”

He chuckled. “Never delved into the local cuisine since you got here?”

Well, there was this one guy she danced and flirted with the first weekend after she started this mission, but her burgeoning feelings for the Kazekage wouldn’t let her do anything more. She wasn’t a slut and she appreciated that Gaara wasn’t one of those guys that slept around and used their testosterone to excuse it, either. So, she’d been able to settle into routine with him. Friends who gravitated toward each other. Friends who had dinner with each other (alone) quite often. Friends who decided important decisions together instead of alone. Friends who rarely had eyes for anyone else. Friends who didn’t have lives outside of each other...

She groaned and dropped her head on the bar. The awareness of her situation was painful. She wished she could go back to being oblivious. Because it was clear now that Sakura had been accidentally dating Gaara for almost twelve months. Did he know? Or was he as oblivious as her? Everyone had noticed apparently, according to two chunin and their friend. Did Kankuro and Temari know.

“I’m secretly but not secretly dating Gaara,” she mumbled. “And I didn’t know.”

Apparently, even though her face was pressed into the bar, Kankuro had heard her.

“I didn’t know it was supposed to be a secret.”

Sakura groaned again. “We’re not dating!”

“Uh-huh.” He clearly didn’t believe her. “Going back and forth then. You’re in denial.”

“Why are you here?” He didn’t respond and Sakura lifted her head up slowly. “Kankuro?”

“He’s lonely,” he said, staring into his drink thoughtfully. “I know everyone thinks Gaara’s put together and doesn’t need anything more in life than family and friends. But I know that under that oblivious and calm exterior that he’s a romantic at heart. He wants what you two have. But he just doesn’t know how to go about getting it.”

She frowned at him. His seriousness was giving her a bad feeling. Everything had come together so quickly, and she wasn’t even sure what to do with her feelings yet, let alone whatever Gaara might be feeling.

“He’s a bit clueless.”

That was an understatement. Sakura used to think he wasn’t clueless, since he often said things with such confidence that she believed he was more aware than he let on. But then moments like that day in the shop with the chunin girls and Gaara seemed completely oblivious to what was going on. She had no idea what to think of him anymore.

It was why she’d been ignoring him. She couldn’t handle the idea that he might actually return her feelings. She was a coward.

Kankuro put his drink down and patted her on the back. “Just… don’t hurt him, okay?”

Right. Easier said than done.

  .:.

  There were many things Gaara was good at. And so many things he sucked at.

He was proficient with multiple types of weapons and political nuances. But in matters of the heart, he found that he still hadn’t learned anything. He had no idea why Sakura was avoiding him and why his siblings were being more careful about how they talk to him. It felt like it had been back when he housed Shukaku and went on rampages.

The knock on his door startled him and Gaara debated ignoring that chakra signature out of spite but gave in and called her in.

“Gaara?”

He looked up and the slight drop in her smile told him that she’d seen the hurt in his eyes. She’d been avoiding him, and they both knew it.

“I need to tell you something.”

Gaara swallowed heavily and braced himself. Her contract in Suna had only a few weeks left but since the particulars of the mission had already been fulfilled, she was free to leave at any time, if she wanted to. This made his hear race. More than anything he didn’t want her to go. He enjoyed her company and valued her friendship. What he truly wanted from her was more than that and it had taken him months of going along with her intrusion into his life for him to realise what that “more than that” meant for him.

Gaara wanted to date her. He wanted to be doing all the things with her that Temari did with Shikamaru and that Kankuro was currently trying to do with Matsuri. And for that to happen, she had to stay in Suna.

Temari and Shikamaru are dating and he’s still living in Konoha, he begrudgingly reminded himself.

But he didn’t care.

Gaara sat back in his office chair as Sakura closed the door behind herself and shuffled her feet, twiddling her thumbs. She was nervous. And worried about his reaction. He attempted to smile and shift his body language to put her at ease. It seemed to work and before he knew it, she was approaching him with a sad smile and sitting down across the table from him.

“Gaara…”

“Does this have something to do with why you’ve been avoiding me?”

She nodded, biting her bottom lip. “I, uh… found out something. And kind of overreacted to it, got drunk, and took it out on Kankuro.”

Gaara couldn’t help the snort that accompanied a chuckle. “Story of my life.”

She smiled a little wider now. “It does seem easy to do that.”

“Did you hit him?”

“A little. In the training grounds,” she added quickly. “He’ll be fine.”

“Okay.”

She went back to twiddling her thumbs.

“You wanted to tell me something.”

Sakura nodded. “There’s no easy way to say this so I’ll just come right out and say it. The whole village thinks we’re dating.” She paused to see his reaction, but he just stared, stone faced at her. “And uh… we kind of have been.”

“All the outings and joint gift giving.” Not to mention how he treated her so preciously in public.

Sakura frowned. There was no question in his voice, just his usual factual tone. He wasn’t surprised. “You knew?”

Slowly, he nodded.

“Why… why didn’t you say anything?”

He blinked heavily and lowered his gaze to the table. Parchments were lined neatly across it as he rarely let them fall out of place. The only matter in his life that Gaara let get messy were his relationships. They were inherently messy, so he had no problem dealing with them as such. Which was why he was so anal about everything else.

“Gaara?”

Gaara didn't seem to want to explain himself.

He didn’t want to deny or confirm that he may or may not be dating the Fifth Hokage's protégé, to the public. He let the rumours spread and did nothing to quell them. Gaara had even played up to them which he’d known was wrong but couldn’t help himself. There was no way that admitting this to Sakura would go well for him. Perhaps he could inform her over time, but right now the realisation of what had been going on was too raw for her.

And she could see his hesitation for what it was. Avoidance of setting the record straight. Sakura frowned. Was it because of appearances? Or something more personal? It could be embarrassment. She knew he’d grown up with little human contact, none of which would’ve prepared him for adult relationships. It left him in the lurch for so many important social interactions.

But why wouldn’t he want to fix this? It would look bad for the village if the Kazekage was pretending to date someone. Especially since she was going home in a few weeks. Her heart clenched at that, and she had to close her eyes to stop herself from losing control. Sakura had only just allowed herself to remember and acknowledge that she’d developed feelings for Gaara months ago, she didn’t want to break down in front of him now.

Why didn’t he tell me?

What was he playing at?

Maybe it was because he liked her? Sakura felt her skin flush at that. No. It was probably pride or indolence. Likely, he didn’t fully understand the ramifications.

“He’s a bit clueless.”

Had Kankuro meant that romantically? Or sexually? Or perhaps socially? She bit her bottom lip as Gaara turned his head away. The skin along his neck was tinged pink and his face looked slightly flushed.

All of the above, then.

Maybe he really was too embarrassed to push back at the rumours. Gossip was a poison though. In order to successfully rebuke it, you had to do so fast. And with the truth, not silence or denial on their own. Sakura knew this from experience back when she was still listening to Ino’s ramblings about Sasuke. This rumour had run its full course and nothing short of a very public breakup would get them out of it.

“Is it…” he started slowly, breaking her out of her thoughts. Gaara looked up to catch her gaze. “Is it really so bad?”

Is the idea of us really so horrible?

She heard that unsaid question loud and clear.

Sakura stood up and circled the table to stand in front of him as he swivelled on his chair to face her. “No.”

Gaara smiled. But it didn’t reach his eyes.

“You want this?” She asked.

This was the moment of truth. He could lie and revert their relationship to the way it was before, except with them being more conscious about not appearing to be a couple. Or he could take a hold of her and ask for the one thing that had been plaguing him for months. He swallowed heavily and she watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed. Was it weird to be turned on by that?

“Yes,” he said huskily.

Desperately, yes.

She didn’t react for a moment, just scanning his face. He held his breath, waiting. Then Sakura leant forward, closing her eyes as his widened. But he didn’t pull away as she pressed her lips to his gently. His hands went to her hips as she rested hers on the arms of his chair, caging him in.

Gaara deepened the kiss, making her gasp and then plundered her mouth. He’d never done this before, that much was obvious to her. So, she took control, slowing their pace and sucking on his lips gently when he tried to hasten her. Sakura fell into his lap, her hands tugging at his hair as he wrapped his arms around her waist. As she straddled him, she lost herself to the feel of his body beneath hers and Sakura moaned.

The sound broke their reverie and the Kazekage bit her lip. Without pulling out of their kiss, he sent his sand out to lock the door and knocked everything from his desk with no concern for their wellbeing. Fuck caring about that right now.

Sakura grinned into their kiss as he pushed her back onto the table. This had been the right choice after all.

  .:.

  Sometime later, Sakura emerged from the Kazekage's office to find his siblings nearby, like they’d been waiting to find out the result of her talk with Gaara. She knew she needed to reprimand them, but she was too happy right now to care.

Kankuro raised an eyebrow at her. She looked dishevelled. Like someone had snogged the crap out of her. He fought to keep himself from grinning like an idiot.

“Sakura?”

She cleared her throat and stared down at him. “You’ll be interested to know that Gaara is no longer clueless.”

Temari groaned as the Leaf kunoichi sauntered out of hallway. Kankuro waited until Sakura was out of earshot and gave his sister a shit eating grin then stuck his hand out expectantly.

“I won,” he said.

She scoffed. “No, you didn’t.”

“Hey! I said they’d end up dating!”

Temari shook her head and took a sip of her drink to hide her smirk, then said, “you said they’d sleep together within an hour of resolving this. They clearly just made out.”

“Temari!” Kankuro pouted.

“Not paying up,” she sung, before following Sakura’s lead and sauntering off.

He huffed. Siblings were evil.

  .:.

#GaaSaku #gaasaku-fanfests #2021 GaaSaku Events #Dating #fanfiction #my fanfiction

[jungshookz]

ok anyway build-a-bear employee!jin who meets y/n bc she comes in to make a new friend after a breakup and he teases her for being an adult by herself in the store and after she starts tEARING UP he’s like okok no!!!! and helps her make the cutest lil guy and records a cute message to put inside

➺ pairing; kim seokjin x reader

➺ genre; employee!jin, i brought you to build-a-bear so obviously this is going to be very floofy (sfw!!) 

➺ wordcount: 4k

➺ what to expect; “…turning twenty-two soon and you’re buying yourself a teddy bear?”

➺ note; when i told u guys that jin always gets the cutest drabble requests i wasn’t LYING!!! i have my own bear from build-a-bear named blu (he’s dark blue with white stars!! at the age of eight i was not very good at coming up with creative names) so obviously i had to write something for him and his homies

                                         »»————-　🧸————-««

jin has a love-hate relationship with his job

you would think that working at build-a-bear would be pretty fun - and it can be, sometimes! - but jin can confirm right here right now that it’s not aLL that great

on one hand, he loves the dramatics of build-a-bear because he’s given the chance to act like the whole store is whimsical and that the tiny little heart that he stuffs inside of the bear is full of magic and hope and happiness (he majored in acting in university so his degree is surprisingly very useful here)

but on the other hand… he works at build-a-bear.

this isn’t where he thought he’d be!!! not at all!!! 

he’s basically almost thirty and he works at a frickin build-a-bear

this wasn’t part of his plan!!!

his plan was to graduate from university, get famous from acting in a small commercial because of his devilishly handsome face, and then immediately get signed onto some fancy hollywood acting deal and become internationally known

but, no!

he graduated from university, didn’t get any roles in any small commercials, and had to find a way to make money so had no choice but to find work at his local mall

and to make things worse, his boss is literally five years younger than him

he has this bratty little twenty-two year old constantly up his ass and he haTES it

“you forgot the whipped cream on my frappuccino.” jungkook looks up at jin from where he’s sitting behind the counter before raising his drink, “am i blind or are you just bad at listening to instructions? where is the whipped cream, seokjin? WHERE?”

jin clenches his jaw before leaning forward, “they were busy, i guess they just forgot. and i’m not your slave. i only got you that drink so you’d give me a day off tomorrow.”

“well, since there’s no whipped cream on it, you don’t get a day off.” jungkook kisses his teeth before shrugging

“wha-“ jin resists the urge to reach down and wrap his hands around jungkook’s neck, “are you kidding me right now?? i spent forty-five minutes out of my fifty minute lunch break lining up at starbucks to get that for you! forty-five minutes!!!”

“i don’t know what to tell you,” jungkook hums as he kicks his legs up onto the counter and leans back against his chair, “now get back to work. and remember to smile! after all, build-a-bear is where best friends are made-“

“the new slogan is ‘the most fun you’ll ever make’.” jin raises a brow, “you don’t even know our slogan! how did you become the manager?”

jungkook takes a slow sip of his drink while maintaining direct eye contact with jin

sChLuuUuRrRRRr

jesus christ

his life sucks

jin rolls his eyes before turning on his heel and heading back to the main area of the shop

today’s saturday, so the store is a little busier than it usually is - which is great, because jin works off commission and he thinks he’s pretty good at selling teddy bears

on his best day he managed to sell thirty-eight bears in one day

he also convinced most of the kids that their brand new furry friends needed new clothes and a personalised recorded message in place of the usual little red cloth heart

he doesn’t like looking at the parents whenever he’s egging their kids on to buy even more things because they always look at him like they’re going to kill him

anyways

he could’ve ordered like forty frappuccino’s from the money he made on that day

before he left for lunch today he sold eight which really isn’t that impressive

but, to be fair, the mall usually gets busy after lunch, so now is the prime time to make some sales

jin lets out a breath as he scans the store for any newcomers or anyone who’s noT already being bombarded by his co-workers

he can’t help but snicker to himself when he notices yoongi at the stuffing station conducting a heart ceremony

“-and now you can go ahead and give your heart a little kiss-“

he looks up for a split second and jin takes the chance to blows a sweet little kiss at him

he snorts to himself when yoongi’s eye twitches

yoongi hates giving heart ceremonies but he’s actually pretty good at it!

he’s good with children whether he wants to admit it or not

alright, enough making fun of yoongi >:-)

time to hunt down a new customer…

jin sucks his bottom lip into his mouth as he walks around the store slowly

ooh, a little boy and his family just walked i- aaand they’ve been swept up by jimin

okay, no problem!

how about those twin gir- nope, too late, taehyung’s approaching them

damn

that would’ve been a good sale, too

it’s fine

he’ll get someone!

oh, wow

build-a-bear has really upped their game since the last time you were here

to be fair, the last time you were here was like more than ten years ago, so you’d hope that they make some changes to the store

…are those star wars themed teddy bears??

that is most definitely a princess leia teddy bear

and she even gets her own little light sabre!

wow

this is a whole new world

“excuse me, sorry…” you manoeuvre your way through the crowd as you continue looking through your options

is it weird that you’re in here by yourself?

the thought of trailing behind a random child in order to blend in with everyone else crosses your mind for a split second

although… a grown woman creeping behind a child they don’t know probably isn’t going to sound good to the judge when you’re standing in court, so maybe you shouldn’t do that

okay

you know what

it’s fine

it’s totally fine that you’re in here by yourself!

stuffed plushies are for people of all ages!!

it’s not just a kiddie thing

you’re FINE

and you have a perfectly legitimate reason to be in here

the only reason why you’re even in here is because…

well, the short and sweet version is that you got dumped two weeks ago.

which means that you’ve been cooped up in your apartment for the last fourteen days

which means your bedroom was starting to smell a little ripe so you thought it’d be good to air out the place and give your poor bed a break  

(also, please, for the love of god, remember to wash your sheets when you get back home later today.)

anyways

you thought that a trip to the mall for some retail therapy would make you feel better!

so far you’ve only been the food court but you helped yourself to a cheeseburger, some onion rings, and a vanilla milkshake

food always makes you feel better

you could honestly go for another round of onion rings right now

there’s nothing quite like the pain of having your heart broken nudge you towards the direction of binge-eating the pain away, is there?

you were about to head into a victoria’s secret to splurge on pretty panties (that no one but yourself will be seeing for a long time) but this build-a-bear caught your eye

a cuddle buddy you could ugly-cry into for the simple price of $35?

obviOUSLY you had to come in

the only issue now is that there are way too many options to choose from

who do you want to take home??

pawlette the bunny?

toothless from how to train your dragon?

you could even take pikachu home if you wanted to

“timeless teddy…” you mutter to yourself as you dig out a teddy bear skin (also, it’s very unsettling that they’re called ‘skins’. like, you know that’s what they technically are, but the phrase ‘i’ve picked out my skin!’ just makes your skin crawl.)

you lean forward a little to read the label on the wall

teddy bears are a timeless way to share love with every hug! timeless teddy is a classic teddy bear with shaggy brown fur and an adorable smile. personalize this classic teddy bear with outfits, sounds and accessories for a huggable gift they'll cherish forever!

hm

perfect!

a classic teddy bear sounds perfect

there’s nothing wrong with going back to basics

also, you’re assuming the ‘they’ll’ they’re referring to here is a child

…

nO

you are doing this

you will buy this teddy bear!

your other option was to go and adopt a cat from the shelter but you can barely take care of yourself right now so that wouldn’t be a good idea

“hello!” you jump three feet into the air when you’re suddenly being greeted by one of the bright-eyed workers, “can i help you find anything?”

you turn around quickly while clutching your teddy’s skin (gag) to your chest with wide eyes, “h-hello!”

oh

hello indeed

you feel your heart drop a little when you realise that you probably look disgusting right now

you weren’t expecting to bump into a veRY attractive super handsome boy today!!!

very attractive super handsome boy with sweet brown eyes and soft-looking hair and the poutiest lips you think you’ve ever seen in your entire life-

thank god you decided to wear the sweatshirt that doesn’t have any stains on it, right?

the one thing you remember from your previous build a bear experience (once again, 10+ years ago) is that the workers here are usually overly perky sixteen year old girls

this guy is not an overly perky sixteen year old girl

well

maybe he’s the perky part

but everything else??

wowie

he smiles brightly at you before tilting his head, “hello. i’m jin!” he points at his name tag, “i’d love to help you out today. were you looking for anything in particular?”

“hi! hello, jin. i’m, um, i’m y/n. i was, uh-“ you clear your throat, “i was actually just browsing, so…”

“oh, perfect!” jin claps his hands together, “let me tell you all about our collections. there’s the summer fun collection, the rainbow friends, the promise pets, the heartables, the classic build-a-bear collection-“

yeah okay

he’s definitely nailed the perky part of the job

“-DC comics, dr. suess, marvel, my little pony, how to train your drag-“

“you know, i-“ you smile sheepishly after interrupting jin, “thank you so much, but i’ve actually already made my decision, if that’s alright.” you hold your teddy’s limp, hollow carcass up before pressing your lips together

“of course that’s alright!” jin takes the skin from you before shrugging lightly, “i figured i’d just let you know of all the other options in case your younger sibling wanted something more extravagant than just our timeless teddy. follow me to the sound station!”

you don’t get a chance to say anything before jin spins around swiftly to head to the back of the store

he thinks this bear is for your younger sibling

okay, you can work with that!

you can pretend like you’re in here for your non-existent younger sibling and certainly not for yourself

“you can choose a pre-made sound from here,” jin gestures to the bins of plastic hearts (there’s a sound option for an ‘into the unknown’ snippet from frozen 2 which is insane), “or we can go ahead and record a personalised message. what’s your sibling’s name?”

you look up at him immediately

“wha- um, why… why do you need to know my sibling’s name?”

“oh! i was just asking so i could give you an example.” jin hums as he tosses the skin over his shoulder and places his hands on his hips, “like, you could say, hey there… sibling’s name, it’s me, your big sister! i love you! or something like that.”

“ah, right!” you nod to yourself, “that makes sense! my sibling’s name is totally normal information that i have no problem giving to you.”

jin raises a brow when he notices you continuing to ramble about how your sibling’s name is something that you will be telling him soon because you definitely know the name of your younger sibling whomst’ve this bear is for

hm

you’re cute but you’re a little odd

“-my younger sibling’s name is… paulette!” you catch a glimpse of a pink pawlette bunny being stuffed before looking back over at jin, “yep. that’s her name. sweet, sweet paulette. sweet little angel.”

“hey, our iconic bunny is named pawlette!” jin beams, “wouldn’t you want to get paulette her own pawlette? instead of a bear?”

the smile immediately drops from your face

oh god

you’ve never been very good at lying

one time in middle school when you wanted to get out of PE you told the teacher that you were in pain and that’s why you couldn’t do anything on that day

and when he asked you what hurt, all you said was ‘…bleeding out of my butt?’

you don’t even know why you said that!!

you could’ve told him you had a headache or something but nO

you told your teacher your asshole was BLEEDING and that’s why you couldn’t participate in baseball

so yeah

lying has never been your forte

but you don’t want pawlette!!

you want this bear!!!

although, it would make sense to get paulette her own pawlette because that’d be an adorable coincidence…

what are you-

what are you even sAYING

PAULETTE DOES NOT EXIST

“okay, you got me!” you raise your hands in defence and jin’s eyes widen in surprise, “paulette isn’t a real person. i don’t have a younger sibling. i’m in here for me. the bear is for me. the timeless teddy is mine.”

“oh…!” jin purses his lips before nodding slowly, “alright! totally get it. the bear is for you.”

why has everyone he’s ever been attracted to turned out to be a little cuckoo?

the expected demographic of build-a-bear are children aged 3-10 (a child aged below three isn’t interested in stuffed teddies because they don’t really do anything but sit there and a child aged over ten isn’t interested in stuffed teddies because… they don’t really do anything but sit there.)

and you… well, unless you’ve experienced some kind of insane growth spurt, you certainly don’t look like someone aged 3-10 years old

“phew! it feels good getting that off my chest.” you breathe out as you lean over and place your hands on your knees, “there was a lot of pressure there to keep lying to you but-“

“how, um, how old are you, by the way?”

jin doesn’t mean to sound like a judgy bitch

he’s just genuinely curious as to why a 21-23 year old would willingly go into a physical build-a-bear store to buy themselves a stuffed plushie

you could’ve purchased one off the online website

also, aren’t there better things to spend your money on?

like… literally anything besides a stuffed plushie??

“turning twenty-two soon!” you get back up onto your feet, “why do you ask?”

“…turning twenty-two soon and you’re buying yourself a teddy bear?” jin snorts before raising a brow, “i mean, really? didn’t you graduate this year?”

“ah, well…” you reach up to scratch the back of your neck as you feel the tips of your ears beginning to heat up, “i mean, yeah, but like…”

“i’m not judging! some people go on grad trips to party and get wasted after they graduate, and other people go to the mall to build themselves a $35 teddy bear-“ jin laughs to himself before turning around to plop the skin down on little counter attached to the stuffing machine, “anyways, were you thinking about choosing a sound or recording something?”

he spins back around and his eyes widen when he notices that your eyes have gotten red and are starting to water

oh

uh oh

what’s going on?

what’s happening??

are you…

are you crying??

why are you crying??

he was totally kidding!!!

that wasn’t supposed to be mean!!

that was supposed to be playful banter!!!

“oh- oh, god no- wait-“ jin immediately walks over so that he’s standing in front of you and jungkook won’T be able to see that he just upset a customer, “don’t cry!! i was kidding!! i have, like, ten plushies on my bed! i’m twenty-seven and i work at a build-a-bear, if anything, i should be the one crying-”

“i just-“ you reach up to wipe at your eyes as you begin to blubber, “my boyfriend of one year b-broke up with me two weeks ago and i- i just th-thought that a teddy bear would make good company because god knows i’m not in the right mental state to be taking care of a real animal-!”

jin winces when you let out a particularly loud sob and he quickly drags you over so that the two of you are behind the stuffing machine and out of sighT from everyone

crap

he doesn’t even have any tissues on him!!!!

maybe he can pull some fluff out from the machine and you can dab at your tears with that

actually, the cotton might stick to your cheeks if you try wiping your tears away with a fistful of stuffing, so maybe not

“i-i know it’s stupid and humiliating for a grown-up to be in here buying a stupid teddy bear for herself but there’s so much in my life that’s just out of my control right now a-and making this teddy bear seemed like the only thing i could control and i just-“

“y-yes, of course!” jin pulls you into a tight hug (your sobbing is getting a little loud and people are starting to notice so this is the only way he can think to muffle your crying) and strokes the back of your head comfortingly, “i’m so sorry, i had no idea! that makes total sense, of course you can get this teddy bear for yourself…”

he continues to hold you until your sobs reduce to little hiccups and gives a warning look when yoongi mouths whether or not they should call mall security on your ass

when you pull away your eyes are a little puffy and the tip of your nose is red

if jungkook asks, maybe jin can get away with saying that your allergies acted up in the middle of the store

you don’t look like that because he made you burst into tears

not at all!!

“how about we… record a special message for your new friend?” jin digs through the tub to pull out an electronic heart

“i-“ you hiccup, “i don’t really h-have anything i want to say…”

jin purses his lips in thought

hm

stuffing the bear with a heartbeat heart seems way too basic

this is an important bear!

ah!

“why don’t you let me take care of it, okay?” he reaches over and rubs your shoulder gently, “you wait here and i’ll take care of everything. for his stuffing, would you like a soft cuddle bear or a plump one?”

your bottom lip starts to quiver again and you let out a light laugh, “a soft cuddle bear sounds really sweet.”

“then a soft cuddle bear it is.”

“and this is for you.” jin hands you the box over the counter and you take it from him with a grin, “thank you for your purchase! and… sorry about making you cry-“

“oh, god no-“ you snort, “i’m sorry for bursting into tears and loading all of that on you-“

“it’s totally fine!” jin shakes his head, “you’re definitely not the first person to start crying in a build-a-bear, so there’s absolutely nothing to feel bad about.”

“right! right, of course.” you nod and press your lips together, “anyways, thanks for helping me out today, jin.”

“of course! it was a pleasure.” jin clears his throat

it’s pretty clear that the two of you want to continue talking to each other, but…

jin doesn’t usually practice his flirting skills when he’s at build-a-bear, so pardon him for being a little rusty

“so… see you around!” you chirp, “i’m just gonna-“

“wait, uh-“ jin wipes his hands down on the back of his pants, “i… i don’t know if maybe this is a little too soon for you or… and it’s totally fine if you don’t want to, but… maybe i can treat you to an apology corndog or something sometime? i don’t know. this mall doesn’t really offer fine dining, so a corndog is really all i can-“

“yeah, i would love that!” you nod enthusiastically, “an apology corndog with you sounds great. i mean, a regular corndog would be fine too, but- d-do you… want my number?”

also

this isn’t you rebounding or anything

this is the first time in two weeks where your mind hasn’t been clouded with thoughts of your ex-boyfriend

this is the first time in two weeks that you’re actually happy

jin seems genuinely sweet and you wouldn’t mind getting to know him :-))

also you’re glad that hE was the one who asked

because if you were the one who asked, it’d probably make you look that much more pathetic

and you’ve already made a fool of yourself once today!!  

you sigh happily as you slam the car door shut

you’re about to shove the key into the ignition when suddenly you remember that your bear has a personalised message inside of him

“oh, right!” you reach over to open up the cardboard house that he’s been shoVed into

!!!

you wonder what soundbyte jin picked out for you!!!

you pull him out and smile fondly at the sight of his chubby arms dangling over your hands

cute :-))

this was money well spent for sure

okay, now how do you activate the sound…

there’s a bit of squeezing and poking but you manage to find the little heart inside of him

you perk up when you hear a muffled crackle

“hi, y/n! it’s me, your furry friend… uh… jin bear! if you’re listening to this, it probably means you’re super sad… cry into my stomach to muffle the sound of your violent sobs! …oh, god, probably shouldn’t have said that- anyways, um, i hope you feel better soon! and remember to give me plenty of cuddles - i promise it’ll make you feel better!”

hA

that was actually a pretty good message

(you hope jin texts u soon)

“okay, jin bear.” you murmur quietly as you buckle him into the passenger seat, “time to take you home.”

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

#requested drabbles #jin drabbles #jin fics #jin fic recs #jin writing #jin fluff #jin fluff recs #jin #kim seokjin #seokjin fics #seokjin fic recs #seokjin fluff #bts #bts fics #bts fic recs #bts drabbles #bts fluff recs #bts fluff #bts smut #bts smut recs #jin smut recs #bts jin #bts seokjin #bts au #seokjin #bts gifs #seokjin au #kim seokjin au #jin au #jin x reader

[bold-writing]

The One With Whiskey Eyes || 7 || Simplicity in Normalcy

Warnings: Swearing.

Words: 3700+

Previous || Next

~7~

Iris tried to support the basket that was draped over one of her arms; the weight of her groceries was making her wish that she had decided to get a cart that she could push instead. Trying to take some of the weight off, she leaned the basket against her hip as she looked at the display of crackers. A snack of cheese and crackers was on her list of cravings at the moment, and she was really hoping to get home quickly. The weather report was calling for thunderstorms and Iris did not want to worry about running home through a downpour while hauling bags of food.

 Finally selecting a slightly pricy brand of vegetable crackers, Iris turned to head further down the aisle for the coffee and tea section—she was so stocked up on tea that she was desperate to get something different and Barry told her he liked sweet coffee so she was planning to get some just in case he spent the night again.

The thought of having him over caused a blush to rise to her cheeks, so Iris hurried down to the coffee section and looked over the shelves to try and find the tin of coffee that she had bought in the past. A huffing sigh passed her lips when she noticed that it had been raised up to the top two shelves, making it impossible for her to reach even when on her tip toes.

 Taking a step back for a better reading on the height difference, she only ended with another sigh. It was probably just out of reach of her fingers if she stretched.

 “Damn.”

 “You look like you could use a hand, Sweetie.”

 Gasping in surprise and turning quickly, Iris nearly dropped her basket as the words that were across her back were spoken in a deep, accented voice—was that a Southern accent?—that was shockingly familiar. A hand darted out to catch the basket as it slipped precariously on her arm, nearly losing some of its contents. Iris’s attention lifted to the familiar face of her soulmate, but one brief glance confirmed her assumption that this was not Barry.

 A pair of slightly worn black jeans and a soft looking blue shirt was exposed through an open leather jacket, startling Iris into leaning back slightly. Having the image of Barry still quite fresh in her mind, she hadn’t really been prepared for the appearance of another personality. This one was more casual, less focused on fashionable clothing while still looking extremely attractive in what he was wearing.

 “Wow, hello,” Iris blurted out before she could think of her words. Her cheeks immediately grew hot as she realized what had come out of her mouth, while the man before her laughed heartily, the laugh lines on his face more prominent than they had been with Barry. Iris immediately pushed the thought of Barry aside, feeling bad that she was thinking of him while another soulmate was standing in front of her now.

 “Hello to you, too, little one. So, need a hand?” he motioned to the coffee tin that she had been stretched for a minute ago, causing Iris’s eyes to finally flick away from him as she glanced back to the shelves.

 “Oh…yes, please.” Ducking her head in embarrassment, the man deeply chuckled before he stepped up beside her and easily grabbed the tin and offered it to her slowly, as though he didn’t want to startle her.

 “Iris,” he began carefully, taking the encounter very slowly. Did she look like a frightened animal? Those whiskey eyes finally looked up at him, the soft rose in her usually pale cheeks making his smile grow. “I believe I have you at a disadvantage. My name’s Luke,” he introduced, holding his hand out to her. Iris dropped the tin into her basket and reached out to shake his hand as a timid smile touched her lips.

 “Nice to meet you, Luke.”

 “That looks heavy,” he commented as he motioned to the basket. “Give it here, Sweetie. Barry’ll have my hide if I make you carry that.” Surprise must have shown on her face, because another laugh sounded from him as he gently extracted the basket from her hold. “He makes sure we all stay in line, and he’s absolutely smitten with you.”

 He must have enjoyed watching Iris blush because he was on a roll at this point. “Well, do I need to bring up that you were following me or is this a coincidence?” Iris retorted, courage in her words showing more confidence than she actually felt.

 Luke, however, seemed greatly amused with her comment and the smile on his face grew. “Rest assured, Sweetie, this is a complete coincidence.” Luke motioned behind, turning the small woman’s attention over to where there was a shopping cart piled with food. “I haven’t done the groceries for a while, so I was forced out today.”

 Amusement flittered across Iris’s face as she took stock of the cart. There was such a mixture of things that it was easy to tell it was for many different people’s preferences. “Wow, that’s a lot of candy,” she commented offhand, noticing the amount of chocolate and sugary goods that were piled at the foot of the cart.

 Luke rubbed the back of his buzzed head bashfully as he nodded in agreement. “I wasn’t given a list, so I kinda just grabbed everything that I’ve seen in the place before. Hedwig’s gunna be running around like a lunatic, though, so Patricia’s gunna kill me when she finds out I bought all this.” The introduction of two new names made Iris look back at him with shining eyes, filled with curiosity.

 “Hedwig and Patricia?” she repeated. The way he spoke about them made Iris all the more curious about the many different personalities within this body. Hedwig sounded like he was much younger than Barry or Luke, and the fact that Patricia was distinctly female was another interesting thought.

 “Yea, they’re quite the pair. You’ll understand when you meet them,” he dodged, looking mildly worried that he had said more than he should. “So, are we finished or do I need to rescue anything else from top shelves for you?” he teased instead, walking them over to the cart that he had stocked full.

 “Nope, coffee was the last thing on my list,” she answered easily. She technically needed more, but she never bought too much at once since she always carried it home. “What about you? As someone as small as me, I can make it easier to get things from the bottom shelf.”

 “Aren’t you clever today? I was just gunna make a stop in the cereal aisle, then I’m off.” Placing her basket of food in the top section of the cart, Luke began to push it as Iris stuttered behind him. Was he actually holding her groceries hostage? “You did offer your help. For all I know, Hedwig’s cereal is on the bottom shelf!”

 “You’re terrible,” she stuttered, hurrying to catch up to him.

 Admittedly, Iris had researched Dissociative Identity Disorder after she had found Dr. Fletcher’s articles and essays on the topic. However, she hadn’t been sure what to expect when it came down to actually meeting someone who had many identities for one body; especially now that she knew for certain that Kevin’s body housed men, woman and possibly children. Barry and Luke were already drastically different, so it made her a mix of excited and nervous to meet the other soulmates that she was sure was ten-fold what normal people felt when meeting their soulmates.

 This was one face, twenty-three different ways.

 The twenty-forth mark hadn’t developed any further since it first appeared, stuck as a blurry one-word mark that looked like a black smudge beneath her collarbone. While thinking of the mark, Iris’s hand came to rub over the spot subconsciously.

 “Hey, you alright?”

 Luke’s sudden question drew Iris from her thoughts as she looked up at the concerned blue eyes that were level with hers. She’d stopped walking mid-aisle and was staring into space, prompting Luke to turn around and bend in front of her so they were the same height. “Yea, sorry,” she mumbled out while dropping her hand from the mark. “Just got lost in my thoughts for a second; I used to worry that I was…broken, or there was some kind of mistake with my marks and I would never actually meet any of my soulmates. Now, in little more than a week, I’ve met two of you and learned the truth of why I have so many. It’s very…”

 “Overwhelming?” Luke supplied with a soft look of understanding in his eyes; seeing that look relieved the tension that had built in Iris as her thoughts progressed.

 “Yea,” she breathed.  “But I am happy, so that definitely makes it worth it.”

 Luke’s expression immediately brightened before he was reaching for Iris’s hand, tugging her after him as he made for the cereal aisle. Iris went silently this time, her expression growing soft as Luke began to rant about how much he hated when he was the one who had to go and get groceries. She listened closely the entire time, wanting to absorb all of the information that she could about the alters.

 “And Barry, love the guy, but he is so picky,” he groaned, snatching box of Lucky Charms—even though it was on the bottom shelf and he had to bend to get it. Iris was half surprised that he hadn’t followed through and made her get anything that was lower on the shelves.

 “He didn’t seem picky when I was with him,” she admitted, “But I’m not the one who’s lived with him so long,” she added a moment later, absentmindedly adjusting some of the items on the shelves near her—something she’d picked up from all of her years of retail.

 “Lucky you,” Luke retorted with a snort, glancing up and down the aisle as though to make sure that he wasn’t forgetting anything.

 “What about you? If I asked Barry, would he say you were picky?” Iris asked in return, pulling at her sleeves as she glanced back to him. With Barry, she had allowed herself to relax when it came to her marks, but that was in her home. Now, in an open place, it was very different. She wasn’t wearing gloves, so it made things very different about her comfort level and who was looking at the mark on the back of her hand.

 Even if people thought it was her only one, there were still unmarked out there who would be violent or rude toward those with marks.

 Luke didn’t seem to notice the movements, beginning to push the cart—and her basket—toward the cash registers. “Oh, I’ll eat anything,” he admitted with a broad grin. “Patricia’s happy about that, at least when it’s good food; isn’t always happy that I’ll go for just about any junk food out there.”

 “I don’t blame her,” Iris admitted. “Please tell me you don’t eat fast-food.”

 Turning to look at him with a slightly desperate look in her eyes, Luke opened his mouth as though to deny it, but then snapped his jaw shut and looked away sheepishly. Iris’s eyebrow quirked up as she paused at the end of the aisle, while stepping aside as an older woman squeezed past them to get into the cereal section.

 “Only sometimes,” he finally admitted quietly, peaking at her from the corner of his eye.

 “Mhm,” Iris hummed in understanding, though still sounding doubtful. “Barry might be picky but you’re junky,” she blamed, pointing at him while turning the corner to continue on without him. Luke’s jaw dropped as she walked away, somehow not having expected her to actually tease him. As someone who had run off when Barry first met her, he hadn’t thought she would be so comfortable with the rest of them right off the bat.

 Following after her, he fought a smile as he saw a flash of her true colours. She was definitely a quiet person and much more timid than either him or Barry, but there was a bold streak within her that he definitely wanted to see more often.

 Glancing down at the basket of her things that was still sitting at the front of his cart, Luke wondered if that was really enough for her. She’d told Barry that she didn’t have any food left in her apartment, and this sure as hell didn’t seem like enough to fill a kitchen. Knowing as little about her as he did, he could definitely say she was a practical person, so she was probably only getting enough to get by that she could manage to carry.

 He barely knew her, she was very new to having people to rely on, so he wouldn’t say anything about her meager shopping. There was a specific way she was used to doing things. Barry had said that she may seem underweight, but she was actually just really skinny; her arm was rather muscular beneath the skin. Looking at her, he found it somewhat hard to believe, but Barry wasn’t known to lie. Sometimes, he was brutally honest.

 When he turned the corner to find Iris, she was standing in front of a display of flowers that were already prepared in individual bouquets. Her fingers traced over the petals of one, feeling the silky texture as she looked over the pale violet of the bloom. He didn’t even know what the flower was, looked like some kind of daisy, but it brought a smile to Iris’s lips as she took in the details and feel of the delicate plant.

 “Any chance your favourite flower is an Iris?” he asked as he came up behind her, leaning over her shoulder to see the flower arrangement better.

 The woman in question laughed, releasing the bloom from between her fingers. “No, I think those flowers look rather strange, if I’m being honest. I used to like lilies most when I was younger, but then I successfully grew marigolds and they kinda got a special place in my heart.”

 “Aw, still room for the rest of us, I hope,” he teased, leaning on the handle of the cart.

 Iris’s cheeks flushed at the question while she looked back at him over her shoulder; even leaning as he was he still had a couple of inches on her. “No one else is so close to me,” she answered softly, looking up at him with those whiskey eyes. It damn near melted his heart. “I was made your soulmate for a reason. Maybe that’s why my heart’s been kept empty for so long; to provide more room for more people in my future.”

 Luke’s expression softened as he just watched her for a moment. There wasn’t heartbreak or sadness in her expression as she spoke of her lack of family, or love in her life, but it still pained him to know that she’d been alone for so long. Barry had chosen not to share all that he knew with everyone, saying that it was her story to tell. And in time, when she met them, she would tell them, too. So, Luke only knew basics, but it was easy to know that someone with her timidity and fear had been through hell. Abused by parents, as Fletcher had suspected, was something they were aware could leave serious damage behind.

 Reaching out for her, Luke wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew in her against his chest. Iris looked surprised at the suddenness of the action, her head tipped back to look him in the eye. “Sweetheart, I promise your heart will never be empty again.”

 Her somber expression faded with a smile as she leaned into him just slightly, accepting his embrace. “I’m coming to understand that truth.”

 Giving her another tight squeeze, pulling her in close to his chest as her tiny form nearly disappeared into his leather jacket. “So, let’s go check out,” he offered instead, not one to stick to serious topics if he could help it.

 Nodding in agreement, Iris stepped reluctantly away from him.

 Luke and Barry may have shared a body, but they definitely were different people. Even their smell was different, and she knew that it wasn’t because of differing brands of cologne. Barry had smelled clean, like crisp clothing and a fresh shower. Luke had more of a musky smell to him, like leather and wood-smoke. It was an interesting comparison, yet it suited their personalities perfectly as well.

 Luke didn’t let her wonder too far away from him, instead he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and drew her in closer to his side as he pushed the cart with one hand. Even though a blush warmed Iris’s cheeks, she was relieved to be near. Being with to a soulmate was the greatest comfort she could ever have; that anyone could have.

 “You stay close to me, Sweetie—you’re so tiny someone could carry you away from me.” Somehow, Iris wasn’t surprised that he combined a tease with a protective action and statement. Even having only been around him for a few minutes, the backwards complement/tease was right up his alley.

 “I haven’t blown away by wind yet, so I’m sure I’ll be okay,” Iris teased back. The laugh that she received in response warmed her heart and had a smile blooming across her face.

 Luke smirked down at her and squeezed her shoulders as he parroted, “Yet.”

 “Oh, shush you,” she laughed, nudging his side with her elbow as she turned her attention ahead of them to see which of the check-out lanes was free, or almost free. “Come on, so I can have my groceries back.”

 “I dunno, those crackers are calling to me, I might have to-”

 Before he could even grab them from the basket, Iris’s small hand snapped up and slapped the back of his with surprising force. He jerked back and stopped walking as he looked down at the small woman in shock—the back of his hand actually stung slightly with the suddenness of her slap, and the force behind it. Her cheeks were still flushed but there was a faint upturn to her lips that made her look like she was smirking coyly.

 “No touching my crackers.”

 “Yes, Ma’am.”

 Luke was definitely looking forward to knowing Iris better over time; and if how relaxed Barry had been when he’d returned the night before had been any indication, she was going to be good for all of them. Her judgement of his food already reminded him of Patricia, but much less…scary. Even though her eyes held a haunting past in them, he was sure that they were all going to make one big weird, perfect family. Hedwig was already spending most of his time out of the light raving about her, but they all knew that he wouldn’t meet her until she was comfortable enough to come to their home—body of a man or not, they would never allow a nine-year-old boy out on his own. Regardless of how badly he wanted to meet Iris.

 “Although, I may have to hold your groceries hostage a little while longer,” Luke continued a moment later, pulling himself back to reality as he snatched Iris’s basket before she could.

 “What?” the small woman stuttered in surprise; she had not been expecting him to continue the whole charade now that they were checking out.

 “Until I have safely walked you home, I will not let you have your groceries.”

 Iris frowned faintly at him. “I can’t let you do that, Luke. You have a ton of things yourself, and I’m just down the block. I’ve done this a million times before.” Her eyes scanned over the cart, knowing that Luke was going to have several more bags than her and as strong as he seemed, she didn’t want to cause any trouble for the man.

 “Well, good thing I was planning on calling a cab—and Barry spilled the beans, I know that your place is near that little café that Jade loves, which means you’re on my way home. So, we’ll take a cab and both of us are saved from that.” As he finished speaking, he pointed to the front window of the store. Iris followed the direction of his finger and gasped at the sight of the absolute downpour that was happening outside. The few people out there had umbrellas or bags over their heads and they were madly rushing for the nearest cover. It was enough that she nearly missed his mention of another name. Jade.

 “Oh, no,” she grumbled, already dreading the simple thought of walking through that.

 “By that tone, I’m guessing I win,” Luke whispered dramatically, bent forward so that he was right next to her ear. Iris sighed while her shoulders dropped, defeated. “Ha! Victory!” he called, celebrating.

 Iris couldn’t help but to laugh at his antics, shaking her head while she moved forward to place a divider on the cashier’s belt, then reach out for her basket with a strict, no nonsense look that was usually reserved for rowdy children that were brought into her store. Luke grinned somewhat sheepishly and finally returned her basket so that she could empty it out onto the belt, placing another divider to separate their things.

 The simple, everyday routine allowed them both to relax after the initial excitement of meeting. Luke had nearly fled the aisle when he’d first seen her, having thought that there was no possible way that it could really be her. He’d never had such amazing luck before, but it seemed that it was finally his time because she’d been just as Barry had told them.

 The mark on the back of her hand, and the trace of another on her wrist like Fletcher and Barry had explained, just confirmed everything.

 Iris, on the other hand, was already reeling from having spent time with one soulmate, who even slept over at her apartment, and now she was meeting another. It almost made her dizzy, especially since they wore the same face but had such differing styles and personalities. It made her wonder if it would get easier with each of the identities, or if she would always feel that strange mix of familiarity and nervousness that boiled over into timid excitement when she met them.

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#Split #Split Movie #Barry Split #Barry #Dennis Split #Dennis #Barry/OC #Dennis/OC #Barry Imagine #Split Imagine #Dennis Imagine #Split Fanfiction #The One With Whiskey Eyes #Hedwig Split #Patricia Split #Luke Split